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#emmett smut
kiss-me-cill-me · 3 months
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It's Always the Quiet Ones
Pairing: Emmett x Reader
Word Count: 4.4k
Summary: After spending a few days holed up with a rugged stranger, you finally can't take the tension anymore. Things get a little more complicated when he walks in on you.
Warnings: Smut, masturbation (f), Emmett walking in on you, quiet sex, biting, begging, one fleeting thought about breeding, some fluff, light angst
A/N: Emmett was honestly the start of my whole descent into Cillian Murphy madness, so I'm really searching for my people with this one lol. He's my sad, scraggly boyfriend and I love him <3
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
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It’s strangely beautiful, in an overgrown way. Vines hang off of the chain-link fence as you push carefully through the jagged gap, just big enough for a person to pass through. The long grass reaches well above your ankles, and plants seem to spill out from the negative space of every structure littering the lawn.
The air has a cool, muted hue; it looks like rain later. Eyeing the building in front of you, you decide to stop here for the night. 
One step, and then a pause. Something feather-light brushes against your ankle. You look down to see a tripwire, and back away slowly in the direction you came. Interesting. It has been a long time since you’ve seen anyone else alive out here. Though the owner of the tripwire could be long gone.
You take a second look at your surroundings, this time scanning for any sign of a human presence. It’s quiet, but of course, everywhere is quiet now. Delicately stepping over the tripwire, you continue on your path toward the large building. Its looming, brick facade is featureless except for long stalks of ivy tumbling from broken windows, and as you advance you can’t help but feel that the building is watching. The sensation of eyes on you is made even more unnerving in the silence.
You pick your way across the lawn, careful to avoid shards of broken glass and open bear traps. This abandoned factory is quite the fortress, if anyone actually lives here. You reach the end of the grass, and step through a huge, weathered green door, left open on probably-ancient and squeaky hinges. The air here smells of cobwebs and must.
Inside, dripping water echoes faintly, somewhere from deeper inside the building. It’s cold by the open door, and it doesn’t get any warmer as you walk down the hallway, still keeping a careful eye out for anything waiting to meet you.
You turn a corner, and there he is, unexpected. Unexpected to you at least; the man in front of you seems quite prepared as he levels the sights of his rifle.
Instinctively, your hands fly up. The man’s face is covered, except for his eyes, which look to be the only part of him that’s still alive. Even his handling of the gun seems driven by muscle memory, as if he’s a sentry with no programming beyond, simply: “Defend.” You don’t breathe as he looks you over; relaxes a bit as he realizes you’re a lone woman, unarmed except for the hunting knife at your belt. He doesn’t look friendly, exactly - it’s hard to when you’re pointing a rifle in someone’s face. But he also doesn’t look like he really wants to hurt you. More that he just wishes you weren’t here in the first place.
As a show of good faith, you point to your knife, and then to the floor. You nod at him, questioning. He nods back. Slowly, you lower your hands to your belt and unclip the knife. The faintest click of steel against concrete is audible as you lower it to the ground. Straightening, you point to the man across from you; his gun.
Now you.
Just as slowly, the man lowers his weapon to his side. You point at your knife on the floor, expectantly.
Go on…
He’s reluctant, but after a moment of tense silence, his gun joins your knife on the ground.
You smile; hope that you look thankful and not threatening, like he’s just fallen squarely into a trap you’ve set for him.
Thank you, you mouth.
Beneath the bandana that covers his mouth and the hat that shadows his face, the man’s expression is impossible to read. His eyes, piercing blue even as they regard you more casually, move over your whole body once again. Checking you for weapons, though you don’t have anything else on you. When he’s done, you take a gentle step toward him.
Stop.
The man’s right hand flies out in front of him, fingers splayed. You freeze in your tracks. Desperately, you want to tell him that you mean no harm. You just want a place to stay for the night. There’s a cold fear soaking in the corners of his body; you can feel it all the way from here. You hold out your own hands, palms forward, telling him to stay calm. Nobody's going to get hurt. Keeping one hand in front of you, you reach around to your back pocket, intending to pull out the pad of paper you keep on you for the rare occasions you need it to communicate with someone.
Suddenly, your back is against the wall. There’s a strong hand clamped around your wrist; an arm pressed flat against your chest, restraining you. And the man’s face is inches away from your own, his eyes wild with panic.
The dust settles around you, and the echo of your body being slammed on the bricks fades away. You drop what’s in your hand and nudge your head to point at the pad and pencil, showing him. The man’s eyes roll into the back of his head when he realizes - maybe exasperation at you, or maybe frustration at himself for reacting so recklessly. He starts to move away from you-
Click.
A familiar sound comes from just outside the factory door. It’s one of them.
Shit.
The man mutters something, barely audible through the bandana, and then he’s running. Deeper and deeper into the building, his hand in a vice grip around your wrist, pulling you along after him. You feel like a mess of  awkward limbs and flapping skirts as you try to keep up. The thing behind you is in the building now, crashing carelessly through the hallways in its pursuit. Your weapons are both forgotten - not that they would be any more useful here than they are back on the ground where you left them. 
Ahead, the man has let go of your wrist and is now running at a dead sprint, trusting you to either keep up or be killed. He clearly has somewhere he’s going. You blindly follow him, out of any other options and brain too high on adrenaline to think about where he’s taking you. The hallway has opened out into a room, and now you’re weaving through huge pipes and tanks. Your lungs are about to explode. You can’t keep up with-
Suddenly, the man veers sharply to the left and smoothly jumps into a metal structure. Just like that, he’s gone. Nothing to do but follow. You breathe deep and hold it to stop from screaming as you jump in after him.
Dust. It’s in your throat and your eyes as you fall into whatever is piled at the bottom of the drop. You need to cough, but you fight hard not to. Before you can get your bearings, you’re yanked to your feet and thrust in a direction that seems random, until you reach the lip of the metal tank. The man all but throws you inside even as he’s climbing in after you, and then the heavy metal door is shut and the only sound is of two people breathing.
He tears off his hat and bandana. You watch, mesmerized, as the man’s chest rises and falls, struggling to push enough air into his lungs. Then, he utters the first word you’ve heard him say clearly.
“Fuck.”
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The man’s name is Emmett. This you learn as you sit, huddled together but separate, in his makeshift bunker. 
You also learn that he doesn’t want you here.
“Please.” 
Your voice feels tight and painful; jagged around the edges from disuse. It catches sharply in your throat.
“No,” he replies.
The timer on his watch goes off, and Emmett opens the door. His chest is still heaving.
You both step out, listening carefully for any noise above you. The creature, thankfully, seems to have moved on. Emmett stands a little straighter as he turns to face you.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t stay here.” His voice is a whisper, and has the same rusty, unused quality as your own.
“I just need a place for one night.”
You beg with your eyes, and Emmett turns away. He won’t allow himself to be swayed by you.
Later, when it’s - almost- sure to be safe, the two of you go together to collect your discarded weapons. The sky outside has turned an awful gray, and sheets of rain pound into the earth. The sound is louder than anything you’ve heard in months, and the wind howls from all directions. 
Emmett sighs heavily, though he makes no sound. He looks up, seeming to question who would have the audacity to do this, and then turns to you.
One. Night. he mouths, holding up a finger for emphasis. 
He looks at you seriously, and you nod seriously in return. You follow him back down to the lower level, and settle in on opposite sides of the room.
One night, of course, turns into two, and then three. It’s nice to have company. Even Emmett seems to soften a little as the days go on. He doesn’t mention anything about you leaving after that first night, and you take care not to prompt him to. Emmett teaches you how to hide in the huge metal tank; explains the timer and watches you try it with your own alarm a few times to make sure you can do so safely. You busy yourself with mending a few things - broken backpack straps and holes in his old sweaters. He thanks you softly as you hand them back to him.
You catch Emmett looking at you a few times, barely getting a glimpse of the strange expression on his face before he turns away. You catch yourself looking at him too. It’s been so long since you’ve seen another person, but even if it hadn’t been, there’s something magnetic about him. His eyes are like spots of fresh ice against his weathered face. 
“I have something,” you say, over the meager dinner you’re sharing.
You go to your backpack and rustle around, moving slow so as not to make any noise. Finally, you pull out a bottle, its dark glass glowing faintly in the dim light.
“Cream soda,” you whisper, with all the thrill of a child showing off an ill-gotten prize from her mother’s cupboard.
The bottle hisses as you open it, and you both perk up, quickly alert for any sound of a threat above you. Safe. You pass the bottle to Emmett, offering him the first sip. It’s simple, but a rare treasure in this broken world.
“What’s the special occasion?” he asks, the barest hint of a smile drifting over his lips.
You watch as his mouth wraps around the bottle's opening, and as he gingerly tips it back to drink. He takes two quick swallows, his throat bobbing twice, then hands the bottle over to you. You take it, fingertips brushing against his for just a moment, and take a quick swig before you can think for too long about how his lips were just touching the rim.
“It’s just nice to have a treat sometimes,” you reply, shrugging. 
You hand the bottle back and Emmett takes it by the neck, letting the edge of his hand linger against yours for several seconds. You make no move to pull away. 
“It is,” he agrees. “Been a long time since I’ve had anything sweet.”
In the very back of your mind, you wonder if he’s still talking about the soda. No - stop that. You don’t need to go ruining the good thing you have going.
You had asked Emmett, on the morning of the second day, if he was alone. He’d paused for a moment before answering.
“Yes… Well, I mean… Yes.”
You'd decided not to prod any further. 
Now, as you look down at your hand ghosting against his, you notice again his wedding band, firmly wrapped around his finger. It's hard not to notice, and it's even harder to ignore the dozens of sketches that litter the room, pinned and draped on every surface. All of them show the same young boy. He could be a son, or a nephew, or just some random kid that something terrible happened to - you haven't wanted to ask. Everyone is beyond traumatized in this new world, and far be it from you to question whatever brings anyone comfort. Suddenly feeling guilty, you let go of the bottle and look away as Emmett takes another sip.
"Hey," he whispers. Your head snaps back up to look at him. "I have something too."
Emmett puts the soda down between you, methodically clears the table, and pulls out a very weathered deck of cards.
"You ever play Gin Rummy?"
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The next morning, Emmett is up early. You stay in your sleeping bag, pretending that you haven't woken up yet, and watch him pull on his hat and boots. He slips on a pair of heavy leather gloves. You stir, "waking up," and Emmett walks over to you.
"Gonna go check the traps," he explains, kneeling down. "I'll be back."
You're struck by the way the moment feels almost domestic; as if he's promising you he'll be home for supper. Your eyes trail over him lazily, taking in the firm shape of his bare arms and the way his hands are abruptly covered by the work gloves. The thought of him roughly grabbing you by the waist flashes through your mind; the material rubbing your skin as his fingers sink into your sides. You swallow heavily; blink a few times.
"You should wear a jacket," you whisper.
Emmett has already started to walk off, but he turns around and smirks at your words. For a moment, it seems like he's about to say something. But it passes, and then he continues in the direction he was headed, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair.
Once Emmett is gone, you have the place to yourself. Scant sunlight filters through the opening in the ceiling, giving you just enough light to read by. You pull out a well-worn book from your backpack, and settle into the chair Emmett's jacket was on to read it.
Quickly, the words start to swim on the page; falling forgotten into the margins. You can't get your mind off the image of Emmett leaving, blue eyes barely visible under the brim of his hat as he looked back over his shoulder. Had there been a teasing look to them, or was that just you imagining things again? Your mind flashes to an image of Emmett giving you his jacket, wrapping it around you, tight and safe. Pulling you close to him, and-
Okay, time to be honest. Emmett has been driving you crazy the past few days. And not in a bad way, but in an "imagining him tangled between your legs" kind of way. You know you shouldn't think like that. Your relationship with him is undefined and shaky at best; you shouldn't go risking it. But it's getting harder and harder to stop yourself from reaching out and snaking your fingers through his hair; against the tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve; sliding them down past his belt and-
Stop.
You practically have to bite your lip as you beg yourself. You listen for a moment to the silence. Emmett should be gone long enough. And under three feet of solid concrete, you feel safe to relax a little. You desperately need to let out some frustration.
But still, it feels too open out here. Too exposed. Even if you are alone, you just want some more privacy.
Your eyes drift to the steel bunker.
Okay, you can be quick. You have your watch and can time it and be careful. With how horny you are, this shouldn't take long at all. And in the worst case scenario, Emmett will be back soon and can let you out if you get stuck. This is a perfect idea.
You climb inside, set your watch, and close the door. Keeping your head by the entrance in case you need to rush the exit, you don't waste any time getting started.
You touch yourself, shocked at how wet you are already. Might as well take advantage of the sound-proof tank. You hiss as you slide a finger between your folds, finally not bothering to keep quiet.
"Oh, fuck, Emmett."
You desperately wish these were his fingers instead of your own. You plunge two inside yourself immediately; revel in the delicious sting. Legs squeezing together, trapping your own hand, rutting up against your palm. You imagine him hovering over you, blue eyes staring into yours as he watches you fall apart.
"Oh, fuck!"
Above your head, the door swings open. You freeze, hand still plunged sinfully down the front of your pants and hips bucking halfway off the steel floor. Next to you, your watch alarm beeps, calling more attention to your shame.
You look up, and suddenly Emmett staring back at you isn't a fantasy anymore.
"I'm… uh," you stammer in a hissed whisper, searching for any words. But the power of speech has left you. It seems to have left Emmett as well.
His mouth is practically hanging open, and after a moment of shocked panic, he quickly tears his eyes away. 
Taking the opportunity, you sit up and try to arrange yourself - although it's impossible to look presentable after you've just been caught fucking your own fingers to the thought of the man standing in front of you. 
"I'm sorry," Emmett whispers, frantic. He’s pacing; tears off his work gloves and throws them to the ground. Tosses his hat onto a table and runs a hand through his hair. "I thought something happened, and I wanted… well I didn't think - not that it's anything to be ashamed of. Everyone has urges."
"Do you?"
The sound of your voice shocks even you, despite the low volume you're speaking at. Your legs are dangling out the open door of the bunker, and you watch as Emmett stops in his tracks. 
“What?” he whispers.
“Everyone has urges,” you echo, placing your feet on the floor. “Do you?”
“I don’t know what you…”
You stand up, taking a bold step toward him. Emmett takes a half step back. His eyes are blown wide, fear and confusion, as you take another step. This time he stays.
You place a hand on Emmett’s chest. It’s crazy, but you can feel his heart pounding; the heavy rise and fall of his breath.
You’re only inches apart. One more step and your body would be pressed flush against his, just like you’ve been thinking of these past few days. From this distance, you can hear the shakiness in his breathing. 
“Tell me to stop.”
It’s a dare; a challenge; a bald-faced lie. You look up at him, pleading with your eyes for him to stay quiet. To not stop you. To keep going. 
“Tell me to stop.”
You’re on your tiptoes now, lips hovering right in front of his. Emmett swallows hard, and you can feel it reverberate through his whole chest. Looking you right in the eyes, he shakes his head.
No.
Emmett pulls you the rest of the distance. His lips scrape against yours, parting so you can slip your tongue inside. Your lungs have left your body, leaving a hollow space in your chest, making it impossible for you to breathe. You feel lightheaded. But oh, the way he’s biting at your lips; tangling a hand in your hair and pressing against you like you can stop him from drowning. His leg is between your thighs and you practically melt on it. Emmett has to hold you to keep you from falling to the floor. 
Gently, he eases you down. You’re desperate, pulling at him, trying to bring him to you faster. Your legs open to wrap around his waist. God, you’ve needed this. 
Emmett is scrambling to take off his jacket, and even though it only takes a few seconds, it is an eternity. To exist without his body pressed against yours. You hastily unbutton your pants, and Emmett tears them the rest of the way down.
There’s a pause, and you look up at him. Emmett is transfixed, but seems to quickly snap out of it when he notices you - embarrassed. You lean up on your elbows, but Emmett stops you, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. He brings a finger to his lips; fixes you with a gaze that shows he’s serious. 
Be quiet.
You throw your head back and close your eyes. If you look at him for another second, you’re not going to be able to stop yourself from moaning. Even with the simplest gestures, he drives you crazy. You feel Emmett straddle you; reach his hand down between your legs. 
Oh, fuck.
His fingers are even better than you’d imagined. Two seconds in and he has you gasping for breath. If you were wet before, you’re positively dripping now. You dare to crack open your eyes. Emmett’s face is stoic with concentration, and you can’t believe how incredibly turned on it makes you. He bites his lip slightly, and you think you might pass out. Looking was a mistake, but you can’t tear your eyes off him. 
After teasing your entrance for a moment, Emmett slips a finger inside you. There’s that weightless feeling again; it’s like being drunk. You could ride his fingers until you forget your own name, and you already feel the coil tightening inside you.
Desperate, you scramble for something to hold onto. There’s nothing on the stone floor. Emmett is your only lifeline, and you grab at the hem of his shirt, pulling him to lean down over you. He kisses you. Rough and sloppy and frantic. You let out the smallest whimper into his mouth as you cum, hard, clamping your legs around his fingers. 
Panting. You’re actually panting as he pulls out of you, instantly missing the way his fingers curled up inside of you. You’re still holding onto his t-shirt for dear life, and he gently removes your hand. You can’t see straight, but there’s the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle being undone, and a zipper loosening. When you look up again, Emmett is hovering over you, his body planted between your legs.
He puts a hand on your waist to steady you, and you feel him line up with your entrance. It takes everything not to scream as he slides into you.
The stretch is intoxicating. You haven’t even recovered from your orgasm, but just the sight of him pausing after he’s plunged into you, needing to collect himself, breathing hard. It’s enough to make you ache.
“Please, Emmett.”
The fingers on your waist tighten, digging into your side. For a second, you worry you’ve upset him, but then he looks up at you, eyes blazing with lust. He looks like a man about to lose himself, and you smile as you move your hands up to his chest, gripping at his collar to pull him close as you whisper again. 
“Please.”
Emmett is pounding into you, careful at first to stay quiet, but getting sloppier every second. He can’t pull out all the way for fear of slapping too loudly against your thighs, but the result is an incredible friction that has you soaring. You don’t think you’ve ever been fucked this good. You grab at his shoulders, his neck, and Emmett lets you. When the pleasure has you tear open your eyes, you catch him watching you again. Enjoying the way you fall apart on his cock. It makes you clench around him even harder, and you catch the faintest whisper of a curse fall out of his lips as he leans forward, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. 
“Fuck, Emmett.” 
You whisper in his ear, breath brushing the strands of hair that fall around his face. Emmett brings his own lips right to the side of your cheek; his words tickle as he continues to fuck you.
“You know, you have a dirty mouth,” he tells you. “And here I thought you knew how to stay quiet.”
You whimper, and a hand is slapped over your mouth, the side of it slotting just under your teeth. Your heart pounds as Emmett leans in to whisper to you again, devilishly. 
“Bite down if you need to.”
Fuck, he’s going to be the death of you.
Emmett is grunting, softly, as he fucks into you just a little bit faster. The sound of him coming undone is enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut and bite down onto his hand, muffling the sound of your cries as you orgasm. 
If he’s hurt, he doesn’t show it. Emmett continues to rut into you as you bite the side of his hand, trying desperately to stay as quiet as you can. You want him to hold you down, breed you, spill everything into you with no care for the consequences. Emmett pulls his hand away and plants it on the ground, trying to balance himself.
“Where do you want me to cum?”
His words are breathless; you love hearing him like this. You bask in them, arching your back against the floor, not answering.
“Where do you want me to- Fuck!”
Emmett pulls out of you, trying and failing at the last second to cup a hand around himself. Cum gets everywhere, dripping from his fingers to the floor, coating the insides of your legs. He looks down at himself for a moment; shakes off his hand before wiping it on his pants, still halfway on in his rush to be inside you. 
“Now you decide to be quiet, huh?”
He’s leaning over you again, whispering teasingly in your ear. He pinches your waist and kisses your cheek before pulling away, showing you the mischief in his eyes.
Somewhere above you, there’s a crash followed by a loud screech. Maybe you weren’t as quiet as you’d thought.
“Shit.” Emmett yanks his pants up and pulls you both to your feet. The sounds of something getting closer are clearly audible. You should be scared, but instead you’re excited.
“Let’s go.”
You tug at Emmett’s wrist as you lead him toward the bunker. Two minutes and thirty seconds - that’s how long you have before the timer goes off. You tumble, pulling him in after you. The door closes behind you with a soft thud.
You want to hear him scream.
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slut4thebroken · 10 days
Text
Second Chances
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Emmett x reader
Summary | Emmett takes advantage of your kindness and hospitality.
Warnings | Smut, 18+, non con, emotional manipulation, praise, guilt tripping, very large age gap, painful sex, first time, breeding, crying, bro has hella trauma fr.
Words | 2.5 k
Notes | Direct result of my Emmett brain rot (Also two fics in one day??🫣)
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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“Here you go.” You smiled, handing the steaming mug to him. 
“Thanks.” His voice was quiet as he took it from you and held it in his lap. 
“What’s your name?” You asked, sitting down next to him, hoping you weren’t intruding too much. He paused for a moment, seemingly debating if he actually wanted to make conversation with you and give you “personal” information about himself. 
“Emmett.” He finally said. 
You gave him your name and watched as his eyes dragged down your body, taking in every inch of you. With a blush, you cleared your throat and looked away for a moment to gather your thoughts. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else? Are you warm enough?” He looked over you again with a neutral expression that made you squirm a little. 
“Actually I’m still a little cold. Is there anywhere I could go that’s inside?” 
“Oh- yes! Of course.” You said quickly as you got to your feet. “My parents will be out of the house for another couple of hours so you can use some extra blankets and maybe lay down on the couch for a while.” You smiled. He didn’t return the expression as he stood up and followed you for a couple minutes until you finally walked up a porch to the front door. 
“Okay, let me just grab another blanket and then I’ll start the fire place as well.” You ran off to retrieve a blanket and when you came back, he was sitting on the couch looking around the room. 
He gave you a small “thank you” after you handed him the blanket and you could feel his eyes on you as you walked forward, then kneeled down in front of the fireplace. “You live here with your parents?” He suddenly asked, almost startling you. 
“Yeah. Since there’s three of us, we got our own place. A lot of other people had to share.” He hummed in acknowledgment and you finished up with starting the fire before turning around to face him, finding his eyes already on you. “Can I get you anything else?” 
“This is more than enough.” He said softly. 
“Okay… Well, I’ll let you rest. If you’re hungry I can try to make something?” You offered with a kind smile. 
“Actually I’d rather talk with you.” 
“Oh-” You said, eyes widening in surprise— He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would want to make small talk with a stranger. “Are you sure?” 
“Yes. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to someone like this.” You hesitantly got up and sat down next to him on the couch. 
“Like what?” You asked curiously. 
“So loud… and about things other than survival.” His voice was still quiet, but this time there was a bit of a solemn undertone to it. 
“Oh.” You bit your lip, trying to think of what to say, but not really knowing how to approach this. “You never… had anyone to talk to about normal stuff? Surely it wasn’t all survival.” You can’t even imagine what he must have experienced. When he suddenly looked away and clenched his jaw, you realized that you might’ve over stepped. “I’m sorry, that was— I shouldn't have pried…”
“It’s fine. I had a family, but they’re gone now.” He still wasn’t looking at you. Taking one last sip from the mug, he leaned forward, then placed it on the coffee table. 
“God, I- I’m so sorry.” You said quietly. 
“It’s silly, but… I miss being able to hug them— to hug people.” He finally looked at you again, this time with a sad smile. “I remember the last time I felt someone’s touch… 11 weeks ago.” That must have been when his family died…
“Would you like a hug?” You offered nervously, hoping you weren’t too bold again. He studied you for another moment before nodding. 
“That would be really nice.” Once you had his approval, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around him, letting him do the same even though his wet clothes were starting to dampen yours. He let out a quiet breath and relaxed into the embrace. “Thank you… I’ve been so lonely.” He whispered, making you frown. 
“You won’t have to be anymore. The people here are very kind, you’ll make plenty of friends.” 
“I can tell.” His voice was a little amused now and he pulled back just enough to look at you. “If it’s not too much trouble… could I hug you a little more?” 
“Of course.” You said instantly, then let out a startled sound when he lifted you onto his lap so you were straddling his thighs. You thought he meant more as in for a longer period of time, not.. this…
“Thank you.” He said again, pulling you closer and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You were stiff for a few seconds, still trying to process this new development, but finally you relaxed into him and hugged him a little tighter. “I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like.” He whispered against your neck. 
“To hug?” You wondered, trying to understand. 
“Yes. But also the gentle touch of a woman.” A blush took over your face and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “You know, my wife… I was with her when she passed.” He said quietly. You were already dreading where this was going, not sure you could handle learning about any more of the pain he’s suffered since the start of everything. “I had a really hard time understanding and accepting this… but she said she wanted me to move on. To be happy again.” One of his arms stayed wrapped around your upper body, but the other moved a little lower, pulling you closer so your hips were also flush with his. 
“Emmett…” You said quietly, trying to pull away, but he just tightened his grip and you finally felt the bulge pressed up against your heat. You tried not to gasp at the realization.
“Shh… It’s okay. I just— You look so much like her…” You had no idea what to say. You’ve never been in a position like this before. “I’m sorry.” He suddenly pulled away and you stared down at him in confusion. “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve this. Not after everything I’ve done— everything I didn’t do.” Your lips parted, but no words could come out for a moment.  
“You deserve feeling safe and cared for. Everything you had to do was for the sake of staying alive.” At least you assumed it was. Honestly you have no idea what he’s done. “And it’s not your fault— what happened to your family. You did everything you could.” You said softly and he started shaking his head. “Yes. You can’t blame yourself, Emmett. Maybe that’s why your wife said that to you before she passed… because she knew how much you’d struggle with it.” 
“You remind me of her so much.” He said through a choked sob, making you freeze. You had no idea he’d get so emotional. Not knowing what else to do, you just pulled him back into the hug and held him tightly. “That’s exactly the kind of response she would’ve given.” He croaked. In response, you just hugged him even tighter. 
“It’s okay…” You whispered. “I’m so sorry, Emmett. No one deserves to go through what you have.” 
“It hurts.” He cried, making your heart ache for him. 
“Tell me what you need. How can I help?” You said quickly, not wanting to see him like this any longer. 
“Can I— can I kiss you?”
“What?!” You choked out, making him pull back to look at you. The tear tracks on his cheeks were far less than what you thought they’d be, but maybe they just wiped off on your dress. 
“Please. I miss her so much and… god you look exactly like her.” He whispered, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. 
“I…” You’ve never kissed anyone before. Are you really about to give it away to a stranger you just met less than an hour ago? “Emmett…”
“I know I don’t deserve it— I know. But I just… it hurts so bad, I can’t take it.” He all but whimpered, making your hesitant expression melt into something softer and more sympathetic. 
“…I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You admitted quietly and you swore his eyes darkened, but it was too hard to really tell. 
“I know I’m asking far too much of you— I know I don’t deserve your kindness,” 
“Stop saying things like that.” You frowned. “You deserve kindness, you deserve to feel loved, just like everyone else.” He stared at you for a moment, his eyes still glossy with tears, then he was suddenly leaning forward and capturing your lips in a kiss. You let out a muffled sound of surprise and brought your hands to his chest, trying to push him away. In response, he snaked his hand around your head to grasp your hair, holding you still as he moaned quietly. 
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled against your lips. You let out another startled sound when he suddenly threw you off of him so you were laying on your back on the couch. Before you could move away, he was crawling over you, kissing you again as his hands roamed your body. 
“Emmett-” You tried to say as you continued pushing his chest, but he was too strong. “Stop!” 
“I know.” He panted before snaking his hand down your stomach all the way to the apex of your thighs. He slipped under your dress easily and roughly cupped your sex, making you whimper. 
“Emmett, please stop.” 
“I will. I will— I just need this. I haven’t been with a woman in so long…” He whispered. “I promise I’ll be fast.” 
“Please don’t,” You whimpered, already feeling tears brimming in your eyes. 
“I know. I’m sorry.” His hand suddenly left your body to open his pants and free his cock, then he was pulling your panties to the side and lining up. 
“Please! I- I’m a..” You sobbed, trying anything to get this to stop. 
“I’ll be gentle.” He promised, then faltered and added, “At least… I’ll try to be.” When you felt the head of his cock drag through your folds, your body went completely rigid. 
“Please! Emmett, please don’t,” You cried, still trying to push him away. 
“Shh…” The blunt head of his cock was against your entrance now, pushing as hard as possible, trying to fit inside you. When he finally breached your opening, his hand slapped over your mouth, muffling your shrill scream. “Oh— fuck… I'm not gonna last.” He moaned loudly, letting his head drop down for a moment. The tears in your eyes were finally falling and you sobbed almost violently behind his hand. Your crying only got worse though when he continued pushing in. 
“Almost there.” He whispered and you let out an anguished sob in response. It felt like you were being ripped open as he continued pushing deeper, a lot farther than what you could comfortably take. “Good girl… Just a little more.” Your body was trembling from the pain and you started clawing at him, trying anything to get this to stop. But he was undeterred. When he finally bottomed out, he let out a low groan that was overshadowed by your cry of pain. 
“I know… I’m sorry. Fuck, you feel so good. Just like how she felt.” He whispered. “I think she’d be happy that it’s you.” He gave you a small smile, then slowly pulled out until only the tip was inside before forcing it back in. 
“Please!” You cried, the word coming out muffled from behind his hand. 
“God- your cunt is so good.” He groaned, picking up the pace, making you cry harder. 
“Stop! Please…” You whimpered brokenly. 
“I know, baby. I’m almost done, I promise.” He said breathily. You tried kicking your legs, thrashing under him, pushing him away, but he was too strong. “Just a little longer, you’re doing so good.” He removed his hand, but before you could scream, he was kissing you again. This time, he shoved his tongue passed your parted lips, licking into your mouth in a desperate, almost feral manner. That, along with the fact that you couldn’t focus on this kiss because of how hard you were crying, made it incredibly messy and sloppy and wet. 
He snapped his hips into you, chasing his orgasm as he kissed you like he’d never be able to kiss anyone ever again, making it feel like you could barely breathe. Mostly because of the kiss, but also because of how overwhelming the pain of the stretch was. He continued kissing you and his facial hair felt scratchy against face, only furthering your discomfort. 
“I’m close.” He whispered against your lips. At least it was almost over. “I haven’t filled up a cunt in over a year.” He practically growled, making you stiffen again. 
“N-no… Emmett, please don’t. Please pull out.” You begged desperately, trying to speak coherently through all of the crying. 
“I thought you said I deserve this? That I deserve to finally be happy after everything.” He frowned, making you falter. 
“I didn’t mean… this.” You choked out, not sure what else to say. 
“I know…” He said quietly, letting his eyes flutter shut. “I’ll try to pull out.” 
“Emmett, please. You have to,” He leaned down and cut you off with another kiss as his thrusts became even rougher. 
“You’re such a good girl…” He murmured against your lips, breathing heavily as he neared his release. “So good. I’m gonna make you mine. I’ll take care of you, just like I took care of her. But we’ll be safe this time...” You shook your head, unable to do anything else. “No monsters, no illness— It’s gonna be perfect. We’ll even have some boys, yeah?”
“No,” You sobbed, quickly feeling defeated. You couldn’t stop this no matter how hard you tried. “Please, Emmett… I just turned 18, I- I can’t…” He moaned quietly when you said that. 
“Shh. Yes you can. I’ll help you, baby, we’ll do it together.” You shook your head in disagreement as you continued to cry. “Fuck,” He choked out, eyes closing again. “Ready?” 
“No— no, Emmett… please. Please pull out!” You yelled, making him curse under his breath. With one final groan, he forced his cock all the way in, pushing up against your cervix uncomfortably. 
“Oh, good girl.” He moaned, lazily rutting into you as he rode out his high. “So fucking good. So tight… milking every fucking drop.” He said proudly, making you cry harder at the verbal reminder that he just came inside you. 
“Emmett…” You whimpered, feeling his cock twitch inside you. 
“Thank you.” He said through a breath. “Thank you so much.” He almost sounded like he was about to cry in relief and that made you falter. This man has been alone for weeks, just haunted by the memories of his family with no real outlet or source of comfort. So when someone finally offered him some… he jumped at the chance immediately. You probably would’ve done the same, had you lost your entire family. 
“And I meant what I said. I’m going to keep you safe this time, I promise.” He said quietly, reaching down to feel where his cock was bulging your stomach— where a baby would be growing soon enough. “All of you.” 
340 notes · View notes
beastofburdenxo · 4 months
Text
Awakening: Hypothermia part 2
here it is, the much-awaited part 2! Emmett realizes what he did in his sleep, how will he fix this?
2.8k words. MINORS DNI tags: fingering, first time, p in v sex, unprotected sex, first orgasm(?) Praise, language
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Emmett stirs in his sleep, his heart pounding. “Oh no, did I dream again?” he wonders to himself. Feeling the front of his pants, he has his answer. “Shit.” He turns back towards you, hoping he didn’t disturb you, putting his arms back around you. He notices you slightly shaking, you can’t possibly be cold. He's right by your side, then he notices that your pants are gone. Your panties are all bunched up, slightly damp in the back. “Oh god, what did I do? Did I hurt you?” He sits up in bed, pondering if he should flee when you turn towards him. “Emmett, you awake?” you mutter in the darkness feeling him move. He's speechless, hoping that he didn’t do what deep down he knows he did. Hoping that you are innocent and clueless to his inappropriate behavior. “Emmett, talk to me. I know happened.” Emmett feels like he’s about to be sick at your words, his worst nightmare coming true. You grab his shoulders, knowing he’s going to want to bolt. “I’m not mad Emmett, you were asleep, had no idea what you were doing.” His chest feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself. “Did I hurt you? Did I-”  
“No Emmett, you didn’t hurt me I’m fine.” you assure him, “Nothing big happened, you just moaned a little in my ear and...” You trailed off, suddenly embarrassed at what you were about to disclose to him. Emmett put his head in his hands, “And what? What else happened?” You clear your throat, how do you put this politely? “Umm, well, you kind of humped me a little. Held me tight to you and uhm,” you stuttered this last part, “Groped a bit, and you sorta, used me to get off.” Emmett made an angry sound, “Damn it, I'm so sorry. I understand if you can’t stand to be around me anymore. I'm an animal. Over here having wet dreams about my dead friend’s daughter. Rutting against you like a pig.” You shush his displeasure, “I don’t think any less of you Emmett, you can’t control what your body does when you're asleep.” Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “And besides I didn’t hate it. It's the closest a man has ever gotten to me.” Silence fills the room as Emmett digests this information. “What?” you feel his eyes on you, “You enjoyed it? Enjoyed pretty much being molested by a man twice your age?” Your face reddens in the dark. “It felt kind of good honestly, I didn’t want you to stop.” You curse yourself at letting this secret loose.  
“Well, I'm glad I stopped when I did. Hope you got your fill, because this will not happen again. I knew this whole thing was a bad idea.” He turns away, stoney and cold towards you. Silly little tears fill your eyes, you didn’t want Emmett to be upset. You should have kept your mouth shut. “Little girl doesn’t know what she’s saying,” Emmett thinks to himself, “She enjoyed it? The fuck? I used her and she liked it?” He rubs his eyes, “She enjoyed it because it’s all she’s ever had. You are all she’s ever had.” A small voice in the back of his head tells him, “Poor thing doesn’t know any better. Show her there is better to be had.” If he could shut the voice off, he would, “No, it’s wrong. She’s too young. I literally watched her grow up.” “And now she is grown,” the voice replies, “She is an adult Emmett, a poor sexually deprived and innocent woman. Listen, you made her cry.” In the silence he hears your sniffling. “Dammit, I didn’t want to upset her. How do I make this right?” He turns back towards you, nervous that you would blow up in his face. “Hey,” he whispers, “Don’t cry. I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself, you did nothing wrong.” His warm hand caresses your shoulder. “Look at me, please.” You refuse. “Come here, hey, come here, don’t cry.” His arms snake back around you. “Hey now, don’t cry sweetheart. I’m sorry I upset you.” 
He makes you turn towards him, his blue eyes dark with concern. “Let’s forget this ever happened, okay? I don’t like seeing you like this.” His thumbs wiping away your tears. “it’s over and done with, water under the bridge alright?” You finally meet his gaze, “I won’t be able to forget, and you won’t either. I don’t want to forget.” With shaking hands, you reach for his beard and try to pull him closer. “No, no, stop sweetie. You’re confused. You really don’t want to do this. Let's just go back to sleep, okay?” With a new determination in your eyes you reply, “You said my name in your sleep, I heard it. Deep down you want this as much as I do.” Your lips are now ghosting over Emmett’s, just waiting for one of you to make up for the distance. “Emmett,” you whisper against his lips, “It’s okay Emmett, please. I trust you. Emmett.” In an instant your lips finally meet, not knowing who finally broke resolve. His lips are soft and tender against yours, not trying anything further. Nice and gentle, like he’s second guessing himself. He holds your face, eyes studying you, like he’s looking for any sign of hesitation. “Are you sure? We can stop right here, no pressure at all.” You put your lips on him, back where they were as your answer. The kiss deepens, his grip on you tightens. You breathe each other in like you were the last source of oxygen. He moves down to your neck, sucking softly on your skin. “I can feel your pulse,” he chuckles, “Excited, are we?” you avert your gaze in embarrassment. “It’s alright sweetheart, mine is the same way. I've wanted this for so long, you have no idea.” Emmett whispers in your ear.  
You reach behind you to undo your bra, but Emmett stops you, “Let me.” In one fluid motion, his rough strong hand has the clasp undone, slowly pulling it off your body. Eye contact is not wavering the whole time, like he’s making sure you’re okay. Half of you is completely exposed to him now, your skin slightly pink with nerves. “You are so beautiful, you know that?” His words just deepen the flush. He bends down to explore this new exposed flesh; your hands automatically go to his hair. Like you're using his scalp to ground yourself, this is not some naughty thought or dream, this is real and now. Emmett takes his time, no need to rush this. His warm mouth finds your unguarded nipple, and you jolt in surprise. He looks up from his work, slight grin on his face, “You good? Not used to that are you?” You lightly slap him upside his head, “No I’m not, but it feels nice. Keep going Emmett.” You don’t have to tell him twice. While his mouth is on one nipple, his hand is working on the other. Eventually trading up. The familiar feeling of suspense returns, like when you were all defenseless against him rutting up against you. But this time, you knew there weren’t going to be any interruptions. You both are panting; he can feel your thighs clench around his waist from being wrapped around him. His hands go to your waistband of your pants. Looking up at you he asks, “Would you like these to come off?”  
Shakily with desire you respond, “Yes, please.” Emmett softly moans at that response, “So polite.” He removes your legs from around him stretching them out straight. With his electric blue eyes on yours, his hands grab your hips, “Up for me sweetheart.” You oblige him, raising your hips to get your pants off easier. He slowly pushes them down, panties with them, eye contact never wavering. “Breathe, it’s okay. You are doing so good.” Goosebumps hit your exposed skin as the fabric is slowly removed from your legs. Part of you wants to just yank them off in frustration at his extremely slow movements, but you don’t. Emmett wants to do this right, knowing your inexperience. Finally, after what feels like forever, you are completely naked in front of him. You want to curl up in a ball, not used to being naked in front of anyone, much less a man. Emmett slowly strokes your exposed legs, “Are you okay?” he asks you. You nod in response, but that’s not good enough for Emmett. He lies down next to you, hand going to your cheek. “Are you okay with this?” he asks again, “I need to hear that you are okay.” You softly grab his hand that is on your face and kiss it, “I’m okay Emmett, just feeling a little exposed right now. It's not fair that I'm the only naked one here.” He smiles at that, running his hand up your thigh, “This is all about you right now, we’ll get to me later.”  
A shaky breath leaves your lips as you realize just how high Emmett’s hand is on your leg. Creeping closer and closer to where you both want him to be. He kisses you deeply again, gently climbing on top of you, his knee between your legs. “Can I look at you baby?” Your eyes get big at knowing what he wants. “I won’t touch unless you let me. Can I see just how pretty my girl is?” You gulp, wanting to please him but still skittish. “Breathe Babygirl, let me see you.” Time stands still as Emmett waits for your answer, not daring to go forward without your consent, still rubbing your legs. Finally, you decide to let him look. “Okay,” you whisper, “Go ahead, I just hope it’s what you're expecting.” Emmett kisses both knees as he gently pulls them apart, exposing you fully to him. His normally crystal-clear eyes turn muddy with lust, “Oh my sweetheart, it’s what I expected and so much more. You are so stunning and..” he comes back up to your face, “And so very wet for me. Just how I want you to be. Perfect.” You turn away from his words, trying to hide your face with your hands. Emmett is not having that, taking your hands in his, “it’s true, don’t hide from me. Get used to me talking like this, because I will every day until you quit shying from it. So pink and dripping for me baby, so pretty and small. Can I touch you baby? I won’t enter I promise, just let me feel.”  
At his words, you feel your body respond even more. Not knowing that it’s possible to be this wet just from his explicit compliments. All you want is Emmett to touch you, anywhere and everywhere. You take his hand in yours, finally doing what you thought about earlier when he was asleep. His warm hand finally reaches its destination. Both of you moan as his fingers explore your warm folds. “There you are beautiful, is this okay?” His index finger finds your clit, slowly rubbing, eye contact never wavering. “Emmett yes.” you manage to choke out, pleasure building at his movements. “I’m okay with one finger if you want to.” He kisses your neck in response, “Are you sure? Don't let me hurt you.” Watching your pleasure ridden face, He slowly enters one digit inside you. You are so wet it doesn’t hurt, just feels unusual having something inside. “Oh baby, you are so tight.” Emmett groans, “So warm for me, you are doing so good at taking my fingers.” In and out his finger goes, watching you the whole time. Emmett loves that he is the one who makes you feel so good. “More,” you cry out, “Please add another finger.” Your request is driving Emmett crazy, “Only because you asked so nicely sweetheart. Tell me if it is too much.” 
Emmett feels like his dick is going to explode any minute as another finger goes inside you. You are doing so good for him, accepting the second digit without much protest. Your thighs begin to shake. “Breathe sweetheart, don’t forget to breathe. I know that feels so good, doesn’t it? Two fingers inside you while my thumb is rubbing that little clit of yours, yeah?” Your voice goes out on you wanting to answer him. That familiar feeling that you had when he had you pinned on your stomach slowly returns. You just hope and pray that it happens this time. “Oh yes, you are so close I can see it in your eyes. Come for me baby, let it go. I’ll take care of you this time. I got you.” Emmett raises you up and holds you close as you orgasm for the first time ever. You cry his name repeatedly into his shoulder, body limp and trembling in his arms as he takes you through it. “There it is, there you go. Yes, good job sweetheart.” he coos, silent tears of relief slide down your cheeks. You wipe them away before he notices, not to worry him. He gently puts you down on the bed again, inhaling your remaining whimpers and moans. One hand goes down to unbutton his pants, finally freeing himself. He sighs in relief. You look down and notice what’s happening as your high starts to fade. “Shhh, I was just uncomfortable is all. Nothing is happening without your say so.”  
“Can I touch you?” you ask him. Curious as to how he feels. “If you want to,” he answers, “But remember, this is about you.” You kiss him passionately as you reach down, fingertips lightly grazing his dick. You feel him twitch at that slight touch. “it’s okay, it does that sometimes. Your hand is so soft, sweetheart. You can grab, it doesn’t bite.” Emmett guides your hand around him. He's so thick you can barely get your hand around it. “Oh, this soft skin is going to be the death of me.” he moans as you slowly start to stroke him. “I don’t know how much more I can take; I want to be inside you so bad.” Between kisses, you stop stroking him and pull him back on top of you, “I want you too, Emmett.” He grabs his dick, sliding it between your folds, “Are you sure? This might still hurt even though I tried to stretch you.” Your eyes close at the feeling of your clit being touched again, “I know, it’s okay. Just go slow.” Emmett’s forehead touches yours, eye contact steady as he lines himself up to your entrance. “This can stop anytime you want it to. Don't lie there and let me hurt you.” You feel the head slowly entering you, as Emmett tries to distract you with kisses. At first you just feel really full, nothing too bad. And then it’s like he hit a wall, your body refusing him any further. You start to whimper in pain, “Shhh, it’s okay. I'm almost all the way in sweetheart. You are doing such a good job” His hand goes back to stroke your clit, “Easy there, that’s it, you can do it. Focus on the pleasure baby, not the pain. It'll go away soon.” And it does, your body responding to his touches, it lets him through. “Oh fuck,” he grunts, “There it is honey, I'm in. Oh, you feel so good. Are you okay?”  
You grab onto his shoulders at the massive intrusion. “Yeah, I'm alright. Just move please, it’s starting to hurt again.” With a deep kiss, he slowly starts to move. Your hands go back to his hair as he continues to talk to you, “Breathe, don’t hold it in. Oh, this is better than I could have ever imagined, you feel so good around me. Oh shit, so tight baby. Just for me huh?” Emmett gets a good rhythm going in and out at just the right speed, sending you to heaven again. “Yes, just for you Emmett,” you manage to squeak into his ear, “Just for you.” At hearing your confession, his hips start to move sloppy. “Oh sweetheart, I can’t last much longer. It's been so long. You just feel too damn good.” Your nails start to dig in his back at the pleasure. “it’s okay, come for me baby, come for me.” you moan. Emmett buries his face in your shoulder, your name coming out of his mouth like a chant. That familiar growl unleashes from his throat as he finally hits his peak, quickly pulling out of you and spilling on your thighs. “Oh yes, like that.” he mutters to no one in particular, “Look so good covered in me.” You shakily sit up and pull him into a kiss, leaning on him as you have no strength left. “Are you alright baby?” he asks. “I’m perfect,” you answer, “That couldn’t have possibly gone better.”  
With a tired chuckle Emmett responds, “Let’s just not wait for another freezing night to do that again, okay?”  
“Okay I'll give you 20 minutes.”
340 notes · View notes
cillianhead · 5 months
Note
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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ssweetleaf · 2 months
Text
smarty.
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emmett (a quiet place ii) x reader
you break one of emmett’s rules and go outside alone. he makes sure you are never to do it again.
warnings: spanking, thigh riding, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, reader is implied to be younger, praise
Intoxicated.
That was how you felt— completely inebriated and already a little dumb from the way he rocked you back and forth, back and forth on the tensing muscle of his thigh. Strong and rugged underneath you, tinged with sweat and blood, the smell so familiar now, consoling you further and you pressed your nose against his neck, eager to have him surround you entirely.
“Look at me,” he grunted, holding your chin between a thumb and forefinger, face so stern and eyes so blue when they bored into your own. “you gonna tell me why you went out on your own?”
You were playing dangerous, or maybe it was the stars that clouded your mind when your clit bumped against his thigh— coy to his question, the welt upon your cheek stinging still from the alcohol he had pressed against it, the skin around your eye already starting to swell…
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, daddy.”
Fuck.
There it was, that- that name. A singular something that drove him absolutely insane, causing his cock to swell and his jeans to tighten — you had him wrapped around your little finger, whether he liked it or not.
Emmett sighed, squeezing his eyes shut before wrapping a hand loosely around your throat.
“Last chance, baby-” he spoke slow, almost mockingly, “why did you break my rules?”
Silence. That was your response against pouted lips, you knew what was coming next and he’d have the reason sooner or later.
“Come on then, over my lap— you know what to do,” you whined at his command, but obeyed, your ass arched nice and pretty over his lap, the only barrier being the cotton of your underwear and you inwardly mewled for the sting of his palm. “atta girl.”
Rough palms kneaded at the globes of flesh, pulling the saturated cotton taut against your clit before inflicting a sharp slap to your poor cheek— the skin simmering, the weight of his palm still there, even after he pulled away to spank the other.
“Daddy, please-!” Another one, the force behind it enough to have you jolting forward, though the pain was enough to keep your mind off the wounds that stippled your pretty face. “It hurts!”
You were whining, unable to struggle in his tight hold and your pussy was soaking, dripping onto his jeans and smearing all over your thighs from the constant clenching— clit throbbing furiously, just aching to be touched and played with.
“I know it does, sweetheart- supposed to,”
Smack. Smack. Smack.
Three quick blows, hard enough to leave a print, stinging the backs of your thighs before smoothing his harsh hand over those pretty welts.
“But it’s for your own good.” Joel’s fingertips inched closer and closer towards your pussy, slipping between your thighs to press the warmth of his palm against you, just barely grazing your puffy clit. “If y’woulda just stayed inside I wouldn’t have to punish you, silly girl.”
Fat tears ebbed over your waterline, glistening down your cheeks to leave them all puffy and red.
“M’sorry-” you hiccuped, mindlessly arching into his palming hand, even through that immense humiliation that circled the pit of your stomach.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, girlie- y’know that—” once again, after the warmth of his fingers disappeared from your pussy, he cut his speech with another spank— this time with enough force to have you shift up the length of his lap, leaving your eyes to swirl around, all dumb and compliant now.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
You cried out, various babbles falling from your puffy lips, slick with spit and swallowing your tears— so frustrated from the lack of touch to where you needed him most, your clit throbbed and begged to be pressed and rolled between his callused fingertips, arousal still dripping down, the wet spot on his jeans a massive indicator to how badly you needed him to sate your clenching pussy.
“P-please!” Your throat crackled from all the constant whines and mewls, reaching a hand behind your back for something, anything to hold onto, but only resulted in him grabbing at your wrist and pressing it tightly against your back, keeping it there, a silent command; no touching.
You felt so sore, the backs of your thighs victim to his blows, skin so soft and fleshy, just begging to be kneaded and smacked.
“Emmett! Daddy please, I-I’m sorry!”
“I know-” he cooed, his unoccupied hand smoothing over your forehead and petting at your hair. “Just a few more. Gotta make you learn.”
Your ass was searing once he had finished, palm smoothing over the hot skin, no more anticipation, just soothing circles into throbbing flesh.
“Come on, up you get— let’s dry those tears, hm?” You shifted, trying hard not to put pressure against your bruised backside when you straddled his lap, his callused thumbs careful when they swiped away the tears that managed to slip before cradling your face between his palms. “Y’gonna give me a smile, sweet girl?”
You pouted before cracking a little smile, your hands gripping at his shoulders, something to ground you.
“There she is,” Emmett cooed, smoothing the soft wisps of hair out of your face, thumbs rubbing circles over the apples of your cheeks. “Y’know I care about you, baby— don’t want you gettin’ hurt.”
“I know,” you sighed, leaning forward to nuzzle your nose against his, “and I love you for it.”
“I know,” he repeated, he didn’t have to say it back, you just knew, you could tell with the way he held you, looked at you, surrounded you.
“I need you, daddy,” you whispered, continuing your shifting and grinding upon his lap, “please can I have it?”
He knew what you were asking for and he’d let you have it till the end of time.
He unbuckled his belt, popping the button to his jeans and pulled out his cock, hard and leaking at the tip, your mouth started to water, pussy clenching at the idea of having him inside you once again.
“Come on, lay down for me.” You nodded, shifting around in your shared bunker, heat rising and causing your skin to perspire.
Emmett pushed your panties to the side, no more, nothing in the way now, just sweet, hot pleasure.
The blunt head of his cock tapped crudely against your clit, before he swiped it teasingly along your folds, getting it nice and wet before inching it inside your opening— the pillow that was stuffed beneath your hips, along with your sopping arousal had him sliding in with little resistance.
“There ya go,” he hummed, bottoming out completely— you could feel the heavy drag of his balls against the throbbing skin of your ass when he pulled out just to push himself back in, his thrusts so hard it had your mouth watering, brain struggling to keep up, instead just letting mindless babbles slip. “Good girl.”
DaddyDaddyDaddyDaddy.
A constant mantra fell from your spit-slick lips, nothing else coming to mind, not while he fucked you into the stained mattress— so dirty and obscene, it had your eyes practically rolling to the back of your skull.
You were close already, clit throbbing and pussy clenching, all creamy and wet, sticking to the wiry thatch of hair at his base.
He knew you were close. That’s why he stopped his thrusts, leaning in close and squeezing at your cheeks with a large hand, lips jutting into a pout.
“Know you were close, sweet girl,” he cooed, mocking your pout with one of his own, chuckling at your desperate whines. “but daddy’ll only let you cum if you promise me you’ll never go outside alone again.”
sorry i’ve been away again, please forgive me.
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pedropascallme · 3 months
Text
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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queenshelby · 7 months
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THE FUTURE (PART TWO)
Pairing: Emmett (A Quiet Place) x Original Female Character
Warning: Age Gap, Forced Procreation, Past Sexual Abuse, Angst
Words: 2,677
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Emmett brooded alone in his rustic cabin, his weathered face contorted in a scowl. Evelyn's plea weighed heavily on his mind, an oppressive burden dragging him into the depths of frustration. "Why should I bring a child into this forsaken world?" he muttered to himself, the words escaping his lips as a hushed whisper. It wasn't just the lurking danger beyond their sanctuary that deterred him; it was the guilt that haunted him from his past.
As if on cue, Evelyn entered the room, her wide eyes searching for Emmett's gaze. She understood his mood without the need for words, instinctively sensing the turmoil within him. "Have you made a decision?" she asked, eager to know if Emmett was prepared to be paired with Caitlyn for the program.
"Yes, Evelyn, and the answer is no," Emmett replied firmly, causing Evelyn's eyebrows to furrow in concern. "I understand," she said, taking a seat beside him, her presence a comforting balm. She watched as he shook his head, her empathy flowing freely.
"Do you truly understand?" Emmett questioned, a flicker of anger igniting in his eyes. "Bringing a child into this world... It's a perilous gamble. I lost my family once, and I cannot bear the thought of losing another. Pretending to go along with the program while secretly abstaining will only result in Caitlyn being paired with someone else after months or even a year of fruitless attempts." Emmett's words were laced with painful truth, and Evelyn knew he had thoroughly considered this choice.
Evelyn's expression softened, and her hands reached out to gently touch his arm. "That's why I understand, Emmett. I am grateful that I am too old to participate in this program. But, despite the odds, we have a chance to create something beautiful here."
Emmett met her gaze, realizing the depth of her understanding and compassion. "I will inform the Council of your decision," Evelyn finally said, leaving Emmett to his solitude, knowing he desired it.
Meanwhile...
Caitlyn stood alone on the edge of the island, her heart heavy with the weight of her resolve. She had made her choice. Like Emmett, she couldn't fathom bringing a child into this harsh and dangerous world. It seemed a futile endeavor, only amplifying the vulnerability of the human race. And so, she had decided to leave.
With determination in her eyes, Caitlyn hastily scribbled a note explaining her intentions. "I cannot remain here," she wrote, the words stark against the paper. With a sigh, she pinned the note to a prominent post, aware it would be discovered soon enough.
As luck would have it, Evelyn stumbled upon the note during her leisurely stroll back from Emmett's cottage. She usually took the scenic route, collecting naturally growing food along the way. Her eyes widened as she read the words, her heart pounding in her chest. "Dear God!" Evelyn cursed, hastening her return to Emmett's cottage.
"Emmett!" she called out upon approaching, her voice echoing through the lush landscape. "You won't believe what I found!" Emmett came running towards her, rifle in hand, fearing the worst.
Startled, Emmett's rugged face etched with concern. "What is it, Evelyn?" he asked, worry creeping into his voice.
Evelyn caught up to him, the wind whipping her hair around her face. "It's Caitlyn," she said breathlessly, thrusting the note into his hands. "She's gone."
Emmett's eyes narrowed as he scanned the note, the words sinking like stones in his chest. "I'm not surprised," he muttered, a mix of anger and worry brewing beneath his gruff exterior.
"Nor am I, but I must find her, Emmett. The boys need her, and she has already endured so much," Evelyn pleaded. However, Emmett shook his head, his mind made up.
"No, I will go after her. You are needed here," Emmett declared, his voice a solemn whisper. With a determined glint in his piercing blue eyes, Emmett embarked on his perilous mission to find Caitlyn and bring her back, regardless of the cost.
***
Meanwhile, Caitlyn had already found herself on the mainland, her footsteps silent against the cracked pavement. She had always been a daring adventurer, but this was an entirely new level of peril.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she cautiously navigated the desolate streets. Her deafness was both a blessing and a curse in this soundless world plagued by creatures drawn to noise. Caitlyn couldn't afford even the slightest sound. She had witnessed firsthand the horrors these creatures were capable of, and those memories haunted her dreams.
As she walked, Caitlyn's thoughts drifted to Emmett and Evelyn, both of whom she considered dear friends. They had always been there for her, a steadfast pillar of support. Emmet, in particular, was a mentor and friend to her, even if he was twice her age and had a tendency to be grumpier than a bear with a toothache.
It was for the better this way. Caitlyn knew that Evelyn and Emmett would look after the boys for her, and she knew that she had made the right decision, namely to leave. She couldn’t even imagine the heartache of having a family would bring to her in this unkind world and forced procreation with someone she despised was even worse. It was Caitlyn’s worst nightmare. Much worse than the creatures themselves.
***
Meanwhile, Emmett trudged onward, his face etched with determination and worry. He had always been a protector, but this felt different. It felt... personal.
Days passed, but Emmett never faltered, following Caitlyn's inadvertent breadcrumbs. He had a hunch that she was heading to the abandoned factory in the heart of the town. With his survival instincts guiding him, he navigated the dangerous path, avoiding the roaming creatures that lurked in the shadows.
As he approached the centre of the dilapidated worker's township, the silence grew deafening, and fear hung heavy in the air. The creatures ruled this place, and one wrong move could mean certain death.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Emmett spotted Caitlyn in the distance. She stood frozen amidst the ruins of a forgotten city. Relief washed over him like a cool wave, but he knew better than to rush to her side. He had to be patient, cautious - the silent hero.
Emmett approached Caitlyn with utmost care, his eyes never straying from the lurking creatures. Caitlyn turned towards him, her eyes widening in surprise, her hands trembling slightly. She had hoped someone would come for her, but seeing Emmett now, a mix of emotions flooded her.
"I didn't expect you to come," Caitlyn signed softly, her fingers uncertainly grasping at the air.
Emmett offered her a small, understanding smile. “We're friends, remember?" he signed, a confession he had never made before. In his world, he believed he had no friends.
Caitlyn nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. Never had she valued friendship more than in that moment.
 “Come, I know where it is safe,” Emmett motioned for Caitlyn to follow him. She nodded, knowing he had a plan to keep her alive.
From the moment she met Emmett, she had been captivated by his resourcefulness and resilience. He understood the creatures' nature, communicating through sign language that he had learned from Regan.
As they walked side by side, silence enveloped them. Each step was cautious, every breath held in anticipation. In their world, noise was the enemy.
Finally, they reached the edge of the dense forest, where Emmett had established a hidden sanctuary during one of his supply runs.
Emmett led Caitlyn to a small cottage, but before they could reach safety, a sudden crack of a branch shattered the silence. Fear gripped Emmett's chest, his heart skipping a beat.
“Hide!” he gestured frantically, urging Caitlyn to find shelter. He pulled her towards safety as the creatures charged through the vegetation, their terrifying presence shaking the very foundations of their being.
"Quiet," Emmett mouthed, his hands steady. Caitlyn held her breath, her wide-eyed gaze fixed on the creatures as they passed, their instincts focused on the noise that had momentarily disturbed their stillness.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the creatures moved on, unaware of Emmett and Caitlyn's presence. Caitlyn released a shaky breath, her body trembling with fear. Emmett reassured her with a pat on the shoulder, relief evident in his eyes.
***
Eventually, Emmett and Caitlyn entered the cottage. Every rustle of leaves, every whisper of wind made Emmett's heart race, fearing the return of the nightmarish creatures.
The events of the past few days had left Caitlyn physically and emotionally drained. She needed rest before continuing her journey, and Emmett understood that.
For hours, they sat on the cold ground, Caitlyn lost in fragmented memories. Fear, pursuit, and the haunting faces of the creatures consumed her thoughts. But amidst the chaos, there was a glimmer of hope - Emmett, her beacon of strength in this relentless nightmare.
“You have two choices now, Caitlyn," Emmett signed, guiding her face towards his.
“We can venture to the factory together, leaving the safety of the island behind for good, or we can return to the island where it's secure," Emmett signed, allowing her the space to process the overwhelming events and emotions.
 “I cannot return to the island, Emmett!" Caitlyn signed, as a gentle rustle of leaves outside caught his attention. He turned to face the sound, his heart quickening once more.
“Yes, you can. I'll move in with you, and together, we can pretend to comply with the authorities' quest to repopulate the planet," Emmett joked, eliciting a smile from Caitlyn, though she shook her head.
Caitlyn scrutinized his countenance, searching for even the slightest trace of deception, yet all she discovered was an unwavering honesty etched into every crease. Reluctantly, she replied, "And what reason do I have to place my trust in you?"
Emmett's hand quivered imperceptibly as he clenched his fists, his words intermingling with the distant roar of creatures. "Because I am present here and now, am I not? Despite everything, I have morals that prevent me from allowing the Council to coerce you into something you do not believe in," he whispered and expressed through his hands to the best of his abilities.
A heavy silence descended upon them as Caitlyn contemplated Emmett's proposition. She weighed the risks, the potential for security, and the immense responsibility of bringing another life into this daunting world.
Breaking the stillness, Caitlyn signed, "If we feign our alliance, what will happen if we are discovered? The consequences could be catastrophic."
Emmett nodded, fully comprehending the gravity of her concerns. "It will be risky, yes, but perhaps my willingness to partake in this charade will grant you some respite, at least until we can find a more viable solution."
A faint smile curved Caitlyn's lips, her hands conveying both apprehension and hope. In the eerie hush of their surroundings, Emmett's offer lingered in the air, awaiting Caitlyn's decision. The weight of their future bore down upon them, threatening to shatter their fragile aspirations.
Caitlyn's hands moved deliberately, contemplating her response. With each measured gesture, her decision began to take shape. Finally, she signed, "I will accompany you back. For now."
Relief washed over Emmett's face, though it was tinged with caution. He knew their journey to the island would be arduous, and their trials far from over. Yet, together, perhaps, Caitlyn stood a fighting chance.
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cillmequick · 11 months
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So this was supposed to be a one shot for @lilybabe as part of my 6 month writing anniversary based off the song Ideal Woman by Celeste, but I’ve had an idea and now it’s a series (why am I like this?? 🙈). I’m still plotting it out so I’m not sure how long it’ll be - and like with Betrayal, I expect it’ll be guided by how much interest it gets from you lot. So if you want more, please interact! 🤍 It’s also my first actual OC (decided it was time I stopped pretending they are ever really x readers 🤭) so I hope you like her!
Pairing: Emmett AQP2 x Holly Matthews OC
Summary: Months into the invasion, Holly has abandoned the city for the comparative safety of a small town. Living each day like it might be her last creates friction with risk averse local, Emmett, who just can’t seem to avoid her. The difficulty is, he just can’t seem to stop fucking her either.
Warnings: 🔞 Riddled with smut from the very beginning. Bad language. AQP2 spoilers.
Word Count: 3464 SERIES
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Part 1: Peaches
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Her face was pressed into his pillow to muffle her sounds as his hips snapped behind her, driving relentlessly into her dripping core. She’d lost track of the number of times he’d already made her cum, her thighs slick with it, a damp patch formed on his sheets. He was almost brutal in his need to unravel her over and over again until she could barely breathe, her limbs heavy yet weightless with the dizzying, overwhelming sensation.
Down here in the concrete encased cavern below the foundry they didn’t have to be so quiet, but old habits die hard as she muffled another scream, another orgasm tearing through her. His eyes screwed shut at the delicious squeezing of her cunt around him, willing himself not to follow her over the edge. Not yet ready for her to leave, which she always did, just as soon as she’d gathered the breath to move.
He pushed forward, running his fingers down her spine and she arched up into his touch, before wrapping her hair around his hand and pulling, not quite gently. She groaned and her pussy clenched around him; he knew her well enough by now to know how far he could push it. How much she enjoyed a little pain with her pleasure. As he pulled harder she pushed herself up on her hands, teeth buried in her lower lip as she tried to contain the whimpers of him so deep inside her. Shifting position, he wrapped his other arm around her middle, pulling her back flush against his chest.
“Cum for me again,” he murmured against her ear, his beard scratching against her neck as his free hand roamed, cupping her breast, teasing her sensitive nipple. “Can feel you dripping down my cock. Give me another.”
Her face scrunched with pleasure as the angle of his thrusts perfectly grazed the spot inside her that made her see stars.
She couldn’t help but ask herself why she always ended up back here, when above ground, in the ‘real world’ they hated each other’s guts.
“Be a good girl for me,” he growled, his finger trailing down to her clit, drawing tight, quick circles over it as he dragged her to the edge again. She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her cry as she began to unravel once again.
Oh yeah, that was why.
This time the tight press of her velvety walls around him was too much. She gave a little yelp of surprise as he unceremoniously pushed her back down to the mattress so he could slip from her, fisting thick white ropes over her ass and lower back.
The last thing either of them needed was a baby in this horrific new world they lived in.
*****
The first time, it seemed to come out of nowhere, but looking back on it she could see it had been building for weeks. She didn’t even know his name but the crack of electricity between them was undeniable.
This wasn’t her town, in the time before, but life in the city had become too frightening after the invasion. It had taken her almost a week to make it this far, only travelling during the day, being forced into hiding for prolonged periods. And it wasn’t just the creatures she had to hide from, or that she had been running from. The city was a lawless place now and it wasn’t somewhere a single woman could consider herself to be safe.
She had taken over an empty house on the outskirts of the town. Where its previous inhabitants were now she knew not, but she was grateful because they had kept a small vegetable patch that even she, the least green fingered woman in the world, had been able to cultivate. When supplies ran out, being able to grow crops herself was going to be essential.
In the time before she would have hated living somewhere like this. Too much like the small town where she grew up and couldn’t wait to escape. But now it was perfect. Well not perfect - every day she woke up she knew she might be dead by bedtime - but at least here, the chances were much more in favour of it being by a creature and not one of the city’s roving gangs who would undoubtedly not let her go to grave without spending a number of deeply unpleasant hours in their company.
But living in the city had made her resourceful and, in Emmett’s opinion, reckless. Fuck what he thought though, she was just trying to get through the days with enough food to eat and the occasional luxury that if you looked hard enough, could still be found. They were all just playing for time anyway - the creatures would get them all eventually.
Unfortunately for him, they just couldn’t seem to stop running into each other as they searched and scavenged to survive. As a single man she was immediately on her guard, but after a couple of weeks she was comfortable he was no threat. In fact, on the rare occasions when he wasn’t wearing his characteristic frown of disapproval, he was actually quite attractive.
In fact, even when he was wearing it, he was still striking - moreso even, his pale eyes studying her broodingly above the fabric he usually wore over his mouth to muffle the sound of his breathing.
It was the day they nearly both got killed though that his disapproval finally bubbled over into something else.
In her defence, it shouldn’t have been a big deal. It wasn’t the first time she’d climbed up to reach something - this time, the last can of peaches - she’d seen from afar, lurking at the back of the top shelf in the store. She had it entirely under control until he decided to sneak up and startle her.
She was concentrating hard on her balance, straining to reach the can, pushed right to the back of the uppermost shelf, when she felt the draft of someone or something close behind her. Panicking, she shifted, upsetting the delicate equilibrium of the metal shelf she was standing on, bringing the whole lot crashing down.
He caught her as she fell, both frozen stock still as the unnatural screech of the creatures echoed towards them, almost immediately followed by the shattering of glass as one of them burst into the building.
He snapped into action first, catching her by the elbow, dragging her into a run with him. Ducking and weaving through the aisles, moving as quietly as possible, he vaulted over the counter and she quickly followed suit, pulled by him underneath the old dispensary. He held his finger to his covered lips and she rolled her eyes in response - as if such a thing couldn’t possibly have occurred to her.
After a few minutes of silence he beckoned her and they slowly slunk from their hiding place. But before they could make it to the open fire escape at the back, the creature suddenly appeared from nowhere, blocking their way and horrifically close. She instinctively stifled a scream and he grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the open door to the stockroom.
Her back hit the wall as he tucked them into a space furthest from the door, his hand clamped over her mouth as they both listened to the bowel-loosening scraping and clicking of the creature as it searched for their sound. If she hadn’t been so distracted by their impending death she would have noticed that she could feel the warmth of him, the rough fabric of his jeans against the bare skin of her legs, clad only in tiny denim cut-offs due to the oppressive summer heat.
Suddenly a crash from somewhere outside diverted the terrifying assailant’s attention and they heard it race away with a screech, smashing once again through the storefront.
They waited for another few minutes to be sure it hadn’t left a companion, but he loosened his grip on her mouth - why he thought it was necessary he silence her at all, she wasn’t sure. But if she was honest, underneath the terror of facing imminent death, it was kind of hot. With no other telltale sounds coming from the store he pulled away and eased the heavy door shut, pulling down his face covering, panting slightly.
She stayed where he left her, head dropping back against the wall, the exhilaration of still being alive pumping through her veins. She was sure it meant there something was very wrong with her, but there was something borderline addictive about the adrenaline rush of survival.
She opened her eyes as she felt him suddenly back in her space, pinning her to the wall by her arms.
“You almost got us both killed for a can of peaches! What is the fucking matter with you?!” he half whispered-half mouthed at her, brows knitted together in anger, his warm breath hitting her face. She struggled slightly in his grip, head still spinning slightly with the buzz of being alive.
“Me?!” she mouthed back, incredulously. “That was your fault!” She poked him hard in the chest, eyes blazing. “I had it under control until you snuck up and startled me!”
His frown deepened. “That’s a funny way of thanking me for saving your life.”
“I didn’t ask you to save me, and we wouldn’t have needed saving if you hadn’t made me fall!” she shot back in the same barely there manner.
They glared at each other for a full fifteen seconds before he crashed his lips into hers, catching her completely by surprise. But only for a moment before she leaned into his unexpectedly soft lips, even though his kiss was hard and insistent. She tried to run her hands through his dark locks but he grabbed them, pinning her by the wrists above her head and she bit his lower lip in response.
Pulling back slightly he saw the lust he felt echoed in her eyes and he ran his tongue over where she had nipped him, feeling the slight coppery swell. With a slight shake of his head he caught her mouth once more, this time his tongue sneaking past her lips. They clashed, lips, teeth and tongue battling for dominance as she pushed forward into him, straining against his grip around her wrists.
He let go, allowing himself to roam her body instead, lips trailing down her throat, her pulse jumping quickly against his tongue. She could feel him pressed hard against her hip as she let his hands slip under the loose thin vest she wore, greedily cupping her breast through her bra. He could feel the stiff bud beneath the fabric, tracing it with his thumb, flicking a glance as she bit back a moan.
“If you make a single sound we’re dead,” he breathed against her ear, fingers easing the cup of her bra down just enough to run his thumb over her nipple. “Tell me stop and I’ll stop.”
She shook her head quickly. For all that he was basically a stranger, she suddenly needed this, dragging his lips to hers as he ran his hand down her stomach and over her denim-covered crotch. He pressed his fingers against her, feeling the heat of her cunt through the fabric as she desperately ground against his hand.
Wasting no time, he popped the button and pushed down into her clothes, parting her pussy with a thick finger. She jerked forward as he slid it into her waiting heat and she felt a low rumble of appreciation in his chest as he discovered how wet she was already.
She pushed harshly at her shorts, shucking them down her legs along with her underwear so she could give him more room to work. Her head hit the wall as he hooked a second finger into her, expertly finding the soft spot that made her dizzy with desire. His lips attacked her exposed throat as he pumped into her, feeling her tight little cunt clench around his digits as he nipped the delicate skin of her neck. Her hands fumbled with his trousers, his teeth grazing her again as she delved into the front to stroke him, slender fingers wrapped around his thick shaft. Her other hand snaked up into his hair, pulling his head back sharply so he locked eyes with her.
“Fuck me.” She made no sound but he heard the command in her absent tone all the same.
With ease he lifted her to his hips, legs wrapping around his waist as he gently pushed his way into her. Her forehead dropped to his shoulder and he felt her teeth bite into his shirt to stifle the moan that longed to free itself from her throat. He was so big and it had been so long… stars burst behind her eyelids as he began to thrust, large hands gripping her ass to bounce her on his cock, like she weighed nothing.
Later, in private, he couldn’t believe what he’d done with this stranger, this woman who was nothing but aggravation, but in the moment all he could focus on was the sweet press of her fluttering walls around him. Her hands pulling at his hair and gripping his shoulders so hard it hurt, leaving bruises he kept catching sight of for days to come. Branding each other in lieu of being able to vocalise their pleasure.
She came without warning, unraveling fast around his arrowing cock. It had been months since he had been with anyone and he couldn’t hold it as her cunt gripped him, pulling him over the edge with her. Belatedly he tried to pull out but as he did, he could see the trail of milky white leaking out of her.
He set her back on her shaky legs and she looked at him in horror. “The fuck?! Did you just cum inside me?!”
He looked sheepishly at her as she pulled her pants and shorts back up, shooting him the filthiest of looks.
“I’m sorry..”
“Save it,” she snapped in a whisper before carefully easing open the stockroom door, looking all around. Seeing and hearing nothing, she slipped out and picked her way back towards the dispensary.
She heard him follow her as she scanned the shelves, searching for what she needed. He touched the small of her back to make her turn and she saw regret in his eyes. Ignoring him she moved away, finally spying the box she was after. Only a few left, she noted with a twist of her lip. Hardly surprising though; no one wanted to bring a baby into the world nowadays.
“What is it?” he whispered as she helped herself to two boxes - always good to have a spare, just in case, she rationalised.
“Morning after pill. See you around.” She moved to push past him but he caught her by the arm.
“I’m sorry. I mean it.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s fixed.” She waved the box in his face as she shrugged herself free. This had been such a mistake. She was better off alone. And she didn’t even like this man and his condescending sadboy manner.
As she tracked her way back to the fateful aisle to recover her backpack and rifle, it struck her that she didn’t even know his name.
Oh well, it didn’t matter. It was never going to happen again, she thought, spying the tin of peaches several feet away. Tucking it along with the tablets into her bag, she set off for home without looking back, feeling his sticky seed between her legs.
*****
He cleaned her up gently with a rag and she twisted to face him, automatically reaching for her clothes to leave.
“Why don’t you stay a while?” he asked in a low voice. She so rarely heard his actual voice, their interactions usually conducted in barely there whispers, swallowed moans and breathy commands.
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“You’re not usually one for cuddling and conversation.”
“And you are?”
She sighed, foregoing her bra to pull on her tshirt and rooting on the floor for her underwear. Slipping them up her legs she crossed the room to where she had abandoned her belongings when she arrived, discarded by the pillar he had immediately shoved her against. Pulling out a packet of cigarettes she offered him one as she lit up but he declined with a wrinkle of his nose.
“Don’t start. This is a treat. I’m usually too scared that the scratch of the lighter will get me killed but they can’t hear it down here.”
He pulled a face but resisted passing comment as she dropped into a chair across the room, pulling her legs up to hug them in front of her.
“What’re you doing all the way over there?”
She frowned. “Are you seriously suggesting cuddling?” He chuckled quietly, relaxing back against the pillows. “Besides..” She waved the cigarette at him, “I assumed you wouldn’t want this near you.”
He regarded her for a moment, long dark hair that she usually wore tied up out of the way, loose around her shoulders, coral pink toenails winking in the low light. Funny how even though the world had effectively ended, she’d made the decision to still paint her nails. Nora had given up on those things early on - too far gone in her grief for their boys, lost on the first day, and then crippled by illness.
He swallowed at the memory of his wife, dead almost eight months now.
“This is a great conversation,” she commented blithely, reaching the last few drags of her smoke, looking around for somewhere to stub it out.
“I’m out of practice.” Her lips twitched in response. “Use that mug, it’s already dirty.” With a silent salute of thanks with the butt of the cigarette, she put it out. “Tell me something about yourself. All I know is your name and that you live in the Thompson’s old house on Claremont.”
She grimaced. “Why?”
“Because we’ve been fucking for a month and it’s starting to get weird.”
“Fine..” she sighed. “What do you want to know?”
“Where are you from?”
“Somewhere you’ll have never heard of. Buttfuck nowhere.” She paused, a cheeky smirk playing on her lips. “Like here.”
He raised an eyebrow and she felt her insides flutter. He really was infuriating.
“Try me.”
“No. Next question.”
“Well I’m guessing you didn’t choose to swap one buttfuck nowhere for another, so where were you before this?”
“The city.”
He cocked his head at her lack of elaboration. “Why’d you leave?” he asked when it became clear she wasn’t going to volunteer anything further.
She let out a long sigh and got up with a shake of her head, pulling on her shorts - the same tiny cut-offs she’d been wearing the first time, in the stockroom. He didn’t consider himself the kind of man to ogle but frankly, he was only human and she had fucking great legs. He could feel himself stirring again. He climbed off the bed and went to her, stilling her movements with his hands on her hips.
“Where’re you going? I thought we were talking?” She looked up into his weatherbeaten face, his blue eyes soft and imploring. From nowhere, she had the overwhelming urge to slap him.
“It’ll be getting dark soon, I need to go.”
One of his hands slipped round to rest on the curve of her rear as the other slowly skimmed lightly up her side. He saw the shift, the darkening in her eyes and boldly let his thumb trace across the stiff peak of her nipple pressing against her shirt. She bit back a gasp as he did it again, his other fingers pressing into the flesh of her ass.
“Or you could stay,” he mumurmed, breath ghosting across her lips.
She should leave. She never stayed the night - it was one of her rules. But his lips brushed lightly across hers, his beard tickling against her skin and her usually solid willpower deserted her. She ran her hands up the bare planes of his back, nails dragging lightly across his skin and he hissed as he pulled her into a searing kiss.
In moments she was naked again, his warm mouth buried against her still slick cunt. She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him still so she could grind her clit against his talented tongue.
Tomorrow she would end this. It was dangerous to get this close to someone when it could only end in disaster.
He pumped two fingers into her tightness and within minutes she came, muffling a scream against her hand.
But until then, she might as well enjoy tonight.
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PART 2
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I told you it was smutty 😂 This man… does things to me, I’m not sorry 😉 I’m desperate to know what you thought - do you actually want more of these two? Please come scream at me in the comments, DMs and my ask box 🤍
Masterlists: CILLIAN | SERIES | MAIN
Tag list: @zablife , @look-at-the-soul , @buttercupsandboys , @notyour-valentine , @valentinabloom , @elliotshelbyjones , @shelbydelrey , @theshelbyclan , @theshelbyslimited , @pintofsweets , @flyingjosephine-blog , @christinasyellowflowers , @midnightmagpiemama , @l1-l4 , @allie131313 , @star017 , @lespendy , @heidimoreton , @dragons-are-my-favorite , @raincoffeeandfandoms , @cillianmxrphy , @alessioayla , @lyarr24 , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @forgottenpeakywriter , @kittycatcait219 , @cybernuttragedy456 , @babaohhhriley , @watersquirtpewpewboomm , @stevie75 , @padfootdaredmetoo , @moral-terpitude , @shaddixlife , @peakyscillian , @majesticcmey , @rangerelik , @guenievresworld , @margew76 , @camilleholland89 , @woofgocows , @cilliansangel , @cljordan-imperium , @elenavampire21 , @elk96 , @esposadomd , @grapejuiceblues , @throughgoeshamilton , @polishcrazyone , @shjjpm , @duckybird101 , @maeleeme , @scorpiussage , @cillixn
If you want to be added or removed from this list please just let me know.
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unveranosinseb0514 · 2 years
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I need to confess that one of my guilty pleasures is DEFINITELY Cillian as Emmett
I don't even know what it is!
The vibe gets me everytime, i keep daydreaming with this man and he looks like he doesn't shower for months, he's just a a grumpy old man (despite everything he been through)
And i don't know, love him like that
Maybe is the Daddy Vibe? The "i'll keep you safe no matter what, okay?"
Just a thinking, thank you for coming to my Teddy Talk! (you get it)
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demetris-cocksleeve · 6 months
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(A/n: 🤭)
Word Count: 621
Summary- You can take it. You will take it; just like the good girl I know you are
Warnings: Size difference, Things break, Emmett stuffs you like a boston cream donut
Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
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Emmett Cullen x Fem! Reader: Kinktober Day 6- Size Kink + Cumflation
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"S'too big~" you moan.
Emmett's arms bulge from grasping the headboard above you as he works his cock into you. His muscles almost pulse from restraint.
"You can take it," he grunts out, wood creaking under the force of his grip. "You will take it."
You feel like you're being torn apart in the best way possible. His girth stretches you well beyond what you thought was possible. He always does -not that you can complain.
The further he shoves his cock into you, the further your back seems to arch off of the bed. "Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck- Emmett~"
You're surprised the sheets haven't ripped with how hard you're gripping them.
Emmett grunts out, eyes shut as he bottoms out. He practically shakes with the effort of holding back.
Your pussy clenches as it tries to get used to the sheer size of your mate.
*crack*
You don't have to open your eyes to know the headboard is splintered under his grip.
"God damn it, babe-" he grits out with clenched teeth. "If you do that again, I won't be able to hold back-"
"S-sorry," you gasp out. "Please move- please, Emmett- fuck me…"
A vicious snarl tips through the room at your words. Without warning, Emmett pulls out of you and slams back in. Your hands fly up to claw at his back and side; anything to ground yourself against the onslaught of pleasure as his carnal desires take over. The room echoes with the sound of skin on skin and the filthy squelch of your soaked pussy.
You cry out as Emmett pounds into you. His name falling from your lips in a symphony of lust and ecstasy.
"So fucking tight, baby-" Emmett growls above you. He heaves with unnecessary breathes as his hand sinks further and further into the solid wood of your bed frame.
"Oh, god~" you gasp, moans being punched out of you with each hit to your cervix. You can feel yourself spiraling insanely fast towards release as he abuses your cunt.
It only worsens as Emmett tosses one of your legs over his shoulder, burying himself inside you impossibly deeper. You swear you can feel him in your womb with how deep he's hitting.
Sharp huffs and grunts are falling from Emmett as he hangs his head between his shoulders. "Feel so damn good- s'like this pussy was made for me. You were fucking made for me, baby- my sexy fucking baby~ look at you, taking my cock so fuckin' well."
It's all you can do to keep your sanity as you cum. Your thighs shake with the force of your orgasm as your knuckles go white with exertion.
With how tight your cunt clenches around him, Emmett quickly follows, emptying his spend inside of you with a low rumble. His palm shoves through the headboard, punching into the wall as he falls forward. Specks of drywall and wood land on the bed around you as he continues to fuck into you.
Your silent scream turns into a soft whine as his balls pump more cum inside of you. You feel like you're going to burst with how full you are.
"Too much-" you moan out, hips shifting as he sets your leg back down.
All of a sudden, Emmett stills inside of you. "Fucking hell- Baby-"
You force your eyes open at the tone of his voice. He's staring down at your stomach with a mix of concern and pride.
Following his gaze, your own eyes widen:
Your stomach is slightly distended from how full you are. With his cock still plugging you up, Emmett's cum had pooled inside you to the point of inflation.
"Damn that's hot as fuck-" Emmett breathes out.
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mypoisonedvine · 8 months
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𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲 | emmett x reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | after being rescued from your captors, tension grows between you and the man that killed to save you.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | nearly 11K (?!?! WTF?)
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only!!), angst, kind of a slow burn?, age gap (reader is twenty, emmett is late forties), pining, voyeurism, dark themes (slavery/kidnapping, discussions of noncon and loss, but emmett is not dark he's nice!!), traumatized reader (and emmett, let's be real, nobody's not traumatized here), violence (use of guns) and minor character death
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This was where you waited— at his feet.  Every deal, every ‘business meeting’, every mission report, you sat there on the floor beside his legs.  He wanted everyone else to know your place just as much as you did.
Living with smugglers and looters like this was a rough life— but the man who bought you, Paul (though you only knew his name from hearing others speak to him) insisted you had a better life in here as his ‘pet’ than out there running missions for him, finding valuables to barter and sell.  Considering there were plenty of missions that not everyone made it back from, you knew he kind of had a point.
But even so, it didn’t exactly feel luxurious being a man’s property.  You’d been looked at like a thing, like less than human, like a piece of meat since you got here; and you’d been here just long enough to get really used to it.  You sat here on the floor while Paul, his men, and his customers stood or at least sat on chairs.
That was why it felt so different, so shocking, when he looked at you.  The man that came today, to trade with Paul.  He was lean and gaunt, it was obvious even with his heavy layers of clothes; he had long hair on his head and face, but his icy stare pierced through… and it was concentrated on you from the moment he stepped into the smugglers’ compound.
He didn’t say anything, even when one of Paul’s men shut the bunker door and it was safe to talk— he didn’t react much on his face, either, staying stoic and flat.  But it was obvious that you had his attention, even your ‘owner’ noticed that.  
“Just bought her,” Paul explained with a proud grin as he tightened his grip on your wrist; you winced slightly.  “Slavers picked her up just past the lake, she’d been camping out there for not even a week… don’t know where she was hiding before that.  Isn’t she cute?”
You figured that was why he brought you here— to show you off.  You, like the guards at either end of the room and by the door, were a symbol of Paul’s power.  The other man just looked away from you, and back at Paul.  “Can we get to business?” he asked in a rough voice.
“Of course,” Paul replied with that customer service smile of his, dropping your wrist which you held yourself right away.  “You’ve got a few extra guns, and we have some extra cans of food— good shit, too, not just soggy old veggies.  Or, maybe we can throw in some medical supplies, if you have ammo for those weapons,” Paul explained, gesturing to the table of goods for trade.  “Whaddaya think?”
The man was silent, looking blankly ahead at the cans and boxes before him.  “How much for her?” he asked suddenly, lowly.
Your heart stopped for a moment; feeling the man’s gaze run over you, you looked away and pressed your lips together.  “Oh, she caught your eye, huh?” Paul purred.  “Sorry, pal— not for sale.  But the folks I bought her from had a couple other girls, how’s about I tell them where to find you and they can strike up a deal of their own?”
The man shook his head.  “Her.  I want her.”
Paul did that thing he did where he sat up straighter, and dropped his smile; you bit down on your lip to hide a whimper, because you got very fucking scared whenever he did that.  “If you’re not interested in what’s available, you’d better just leave now and keep your guns, old man.”
He paused for a moment, nodding in acceptance.  “Alright,” he said, “I think I will.”
He held tighter onto his gun, looking down at it for a moment.
“After all, this thing’s pretty damn useful.”
It was only a couple seconds of pure chaos.  He shot Paul first, then stood up and took down all three men in the back of the room— one of them pulled his pistol fast enough to fire back, but he missed, and in a split-second he was on the ground with the others.  You screamed, covering your head with your hands; your ears were ringing, and your whole body shook with shivers as you dared to glance over at the bleeding, lifeless bodies just a few feet away.
“C’mon,” the man said— it took you a half-second to realize he was talking to you, even though you were the only other living person in the room, “grab what you can.  We need to run.”
We.  He just killed them all, like it was nothing… for you.  And now you were a we?
Shuddering, you could only shake your head.  “N-no, no,” you choked out, whining when he grabbed you and yanked you to your feet; you could hear the commotion outside the room, it wouldn’t be long before someone from one of the nearby bunkers came to investigate the gunshots.  
“They’re coming, and they’ll kill us both,” he growled at you, far too close to your face, and you felt your lip quivering.  “Help me carry this shit and let’s go.”
~
It was a long walk back to… wherever he was taking you.  Since you ran from the compound with your stolen supplies, you obviously hadn’t said anything to each other— you’d barely even looked at him, for some reason you were scared to.  
The only interaction you’d had since you started your trek was when he noticed you shivering, and stopped to take off his jacket and give it to you; considering all you were wearing was a baggy old t-shirt and socks, it helped a lot against the chilly gusts of wind.  It was awkward in the silence, not being able to reject the jacket or even thank him for it, so you just nodded as he slipped it on you.  It was baggy even on him so it fit you even more awkwardly, but it made your shivers soothe instantly.
He guided you on the trail, keeping his gun close by, and eventually you came to some kind of processing plant; with what little you knew about manufacturing, your glances around the factory made you guess it was once a metallurgy building.  Now it was abandoned, and as you climbed down the ladder he pointed you towards, you realized he was taking you right into some horrible small space— with a massive iron door.  You hesitated, but he silently gestured you forward; your heart raced, knowing you had no chance of escape from a place like that.  Not that you ever really stood a chance of escape from someone as capable as he had proved himself to be so far— but the idea of going into that little room with him made you feel a bit sick.  It reminded you of your first day with Paul, of having all your freedom and dignity torn away, and you wondered if this was all just the beginning of another cycle: out of the frying pan, into the fire.
But you had no choice: you stepped forward, crawling into the little nook, and he followed behind you and shut the large round door.
It was pitch black for a moment, and you felt a sort of primal fear— would he really do this here, in complete darkness— would he really force himself on you?  You tried to scoot as far away as you could, until a hard wall hit your back; but you knew there was nothing you could do to stop him from doing whatever he wanted to you now, and you closed your eyes in hopes he wouldn’t be cruel.  But within a few seconds, he’d taken out a camping lantern and opened it, filling the room with a sort of speckled white light, and you opened your eyes slowly.
“Are you okay?” he asked first, and you weren’t sure how to answer that.  “My name’s Emmett,” he informed you quietly.  “Don’t… you don’t need to worry, alright?  I won’t hurt you.”
You shrunk away slightly, holding your legs to your chest.  Paul had said the same thing, but then again, he’d never actually said it like he meant it.  In fact, what he’d said exactly was I won’t hurt you if you behave.  And he still did.  Because he could.
“I don’t wanna— I won’t do anything with ya,” Emmett explained, and you could’ve sworn you saw a slight blush above that long beard.  “Just couldn’t leave that place knowing you were there, against your will and all… it’s not right, keeping people like that, keeping girls…”
You looked away, eventually giving him a small nod as a response.  You wanted to believe him, he sounded genuine, but you weren’t ready to trust a stranger you saw kill four men so casually.  
“Mind tellin’ me your name?” he encouraged softly.
You mumbled it into your arms into the fabric of the old t-shirt which still smelled like the prison he’d broken you out of. 
“What’s that, sweetheart?” he pressed.
You said it again, louder, and he smiled a bit at you; you smiled back, too, but it was partially hidden by the tattered shirt’s sleeve.
“Pretty,” he said.  “M’gonna keep you safe here, alright?  I-I mean, you don’t have to stay here.  You can go back wherever you want, I just… I figure you might end up where I found you again if you go out there on your own.  No offense.”
You nodded; you weren’t cut out for making it on your own out there, you weren’t too proud to admit that.  You used to run with a group of survivors, which made it much easier to get by, but you’d been naive enough to think you could reject the group leader’s advances without suffering consequences: they left you in the night, without a word, and you only made it one more day on your own before getting captured by slavers.  That felt like a lifetime ago now, like stories that happened to a whole other person, but it wasn’t actually that long— Paul bought you a few weeks ago at most.  Still, those few weeks had changed you as a person, and you went from being terrified of being alone to being terrified of everyone else.  Maybe you were still an impossible mix of both…
“I have a decent set-up here… some food and water, a little more since we took some from your old friends back there,” he chuckled nervously.  “And, uh, you can sleep in here… sorry it’s so small, never really planned to share it… I— I can find another place to sleep if this isn’t enough room—“
“Why are you doing this?” you interrupted, and he seemed startled to hear you talk so much.  
“Huh?”
“Why are you doing this?” you asked again. “For me?  I mean… you don’t know me.”
“Well, I could,” he shrugged, “you could tell me about you.”
“But why did you save me?”
“I said so already, I couldn’t leave you there with those men.  Young girl stuck in that place, just about the worst thing I can imagine…”
“M’not that young,” you protested, “I’m twenty.”
He smiled a little.  “Of course.  Sorry.”
You sighed, relaxing slightly, and he seemed to lower his own shoulders as well. 
“You seem tired,” he noticed.  “It was a long walk.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “I used to be able to walk a long way, but I lost my stamina— I wasn’t really going very far when I was there, you know…”
“I’m sure,” Emmett agreed.  “You hungry?  We could eat something.”
“Um, maybe…” you mumbled nervously.  You felt nervous to ask for anything of him— like he might ask you for something in return.  It wouldn’t be absurd of him to expect some kind of repayment for saving you; but if he expected that, then he wouldn’t be much of a savior after all.
“I saw granola bars in one of the bags we took,” he said.  “Sometimes I still get nervous, opening something crinkly like that— but nothing can hear us in here, I promise.  You’re safe.”
You hesitated before nodding; safe.  That sounded nice.  Now you just had to convince yourself it was true.
~
You’d noticed him looking at you a lot this evening, while you were both preparing dinner; you tried not to react to it.  He kept glancing at you, just for a moment, like he thought you wouldn’t notice.  You just kept focusing on the work at hand— peeling an orange— and tried not to think about why he kept looking at you.  Maybe he had something to say, but that would be odd since he usually didn’t.  Maybe you were doing this wrong somehow, or he was jealous that you were going to eat that fruit as an appetizer before the real meal.
Or maybe he just found you appeeling!  
You snorted a little involuntarily, amused by your own joke, and he looked at you again.  “You alright?” he asked.
“Yeah, sorry,” you mumbled, fighting a smile as you shook your head.  “It’s nothing.”
And the silence continued.  Even for a time when most everyone was quiet by necessity, Emmett was quiet.  He had this special place, somewhere safe enough to talk, but he didn’t often utilize that privilege; or at least, he hadn’t since you got here a few days ago, but there wouldn’t have been anyone to talk to before then.  You figured he just didn’t have a lot to say— and it’s not like you were some kind of conversation queen either.  You didn’t ask about him or his life before this, even though you were actually pretty curious: you just watched him, and if he noticed, he didn’t react to it.  This was the first time he seemed to be returning some of that attention.
“You can talk about it, if you want,” he suggested suddenly, making you furrow your brow a bit.
“About what?” you asked, not taking your eyes off your orange in progress, but you knew already what he meant.
“About how you came to be where I found you,” he said.  “Don’t have to— I wouldn’t wanna talk about it, if I was you— but if you do… I just want you to know you can tell me.”
You shrugged, keeping yourself from looking up at him.  “Why do you wanna know?”
“I don’t,” he insisted.  “But sometimes I can tell you’re thinking about it.”
Swallowing thickly, you looked away; here you were, wearing the clothes he’d given you, living in his ‘home’, surviving off of him.  On paper, it was the same as it had been before— that’s why you were thinking about it.  But it was night and day: Paul gave you rags to wear, if that, and Emmett had you in his own clothes— comfy plaids and knitted sweaters that smelled shockingly good for any apocalypse survivor; Emmett had a few creature comforts here, art and decent food and pillows… Paul’s bunker was exactly as flat and rigid and cold as the word ‘bunker’ indicates; and surviving with Emmett felt the most like real living since you were with your old group— though you knew them infinitely better.
“But we don’t have to—” he began again, shaking his head like he regretted the whole idea.
“Who are those pictures of?” you asked, interrupting him.
“Pictures…” he mumbled.
“The ones you hid,” you said, “or tried to hide.  Drawings, paintings—”
“You shouldn’t have been looking there,” he said firmly, looking down.
“I know,” you breathed, “but you were gone— I was bored—”
“Gone getting you food,” he reminded you, pointing with his knife— don’t worry, he was just peeling a potato with it— to the orange in your hand.
“Us,” you corrected, “we’re both eating.  And I’m sorry… you don’t have to tell me, either.  We can just have another quiet dinner.”
He paused before sighing a bit, looking at you and then back to his half-peeled vegetable.  “My sons,” he said quietly.  “Those are my sons.  Were my sons…”
“I know,” you whispered, and he looked at you quizzically.  “I could tell, I mean— you have that look in your eyes, I knew you’d lost someone.”
He shrugged.  “Everyone lost someone.  Some lost everyone.”
You almost found the energy to smile, but it came out more like pressing your lips together.  “Yeah,” you agreed.  “They kinda look like you, in the pictures.  You’re talented.”
“Oh, I didn’t draw them,” he scoffed, “no way— I couldn’t draw a circle.  It was my wife.”
Why did you get a little pit in your stomach when he said that.  “You’re married?”
“Uh huh,” he nodded, “but she— um, she passed.  Not too long ago.  Well… I guess a few months is a while ago.  But it still feels new.”
You nervously looked down at the orange in your hands, peeling off the last strip of skin and picking off a few white chunks of pith here and there.  Not sure what to say, you simply pulled a segment off of the rest and reached over with it, offering it to him.  “Here,” you said, and he looked at the piece of fruit in your hand before looking at you.
“No, s’fine,” he shook his head, “I’ll eat when dinner’s ready.”
“Come on,” you insisted, shaking it a little as if that would make it more enticing.  “You’re working up an appetite peeling the spuds.  Just have a few.”
Finally, he relented.  “Thanks,” he said, taking it and putting it in his mouth.  He chewed for a moment, working on the potato still, but he talked a bit around it just before he swallowed.  “You don’t have kids, do you?”
You shook your head, laughing.  “No, do I seem old enough for that?”
“No,” he agreed, “but you know— stuff happens.”
“I wanted them someday,” you admitted, “but no.  I actually, uh… I was pretty nervous about getting pregnant in the bunker…”
He swallowed, for more than just the orange.  Looking at you, you found his stare somehow both intimidating and comforting.
“I shouldn’t complain too much,” you shook your head, “he wasn’t that bad.  He was more interested in showing me off to others than actually doing too much when we were alone.”
“You shouldn’t complain too much about being a sex slave to a smuggler?” he repeated incredulously, like he was offended on your behalf by what you had said.
“I was just a trophy,” you shrugged, “I was the most expensive thing he owned.  It was all business with him: he wanted you— you know, anybody who bought from him— to know he was capable of that.  Of owning somebody.  And, um… that only happened twice.  Once the first night, and then, um… well—”
“You don’t have to say,” he offered you softly.  “It’s okay if you just never wanna think about him again.  I certainly sleep better at night knowing I turned his head inside out.”
You smiled a little, even though the image of that still haunted you.  “No, it’s fine.  I think it’s easier to just treat it like anything else.  Like, one time I broke my arm, one time my pet cat died, one time this gang captured me and sold me to a trader in exchange for pills and pickles— just something that happened that I hated and now… now it’s over.”
Now I’m safe.  You could talk about it because you finally believed that Emmett wouldn’t put you through it again.  When you looked at him, he smiled at you a little; you popped a piece of the orange into your mouth.
“S’good,” you mumbled as you chewed, giving him another piece and feeling the tips of his fingers just barely brush yours as he accepted it.
~
A few days later, he did the same thing: interrupted your silent meal with a sudden interjection.  “Y’ever shot a gun before?” he asked, and you awkwardly shook your head.  He sighed.  “Alright, well, you should learn.  Case something happens.”
“Guns don’t work on those things,” you noticed.
“They work on people,” he replied.  “And you’ve had a lot more trouble with them.”
You shrugged, certainly in no place to deny that.  “Guns are loud,” you reminded him.
“A little noise is worth it,” Emmett promised, “if it’s you or them.  And if you’re not packing, then it’ll be you.  You need to learn.”
Not if I have you with me, you almost blurted out.  Thankfully, you stopped yourself and nodded in agreement instead.
“I’ll teach you up there,” he gestured towards the world above with a quick tilt of his head, “unloaded.  Obviously.”
Going up to the surface was a strange feeling.  You hadn’t felt this safe anywhere since this global nightmare began, honestly, and you were almost spoiled by it now— here, with Emmett, you were sure that nothing would come to harm you.  But up there?  You knew, logically, that it was usually alright as long as you kept quiet, but you were pretty fucking quiet when the slavers found you.
Even being down here alone gave you the smallest tinge of anxiety— that someone might find you and steal you while Emmett was out foraging— and you never navigated the forest alone.  You had the feeling that Emmett was teaching you to use a gun so that you could do just that, but it didn’t sound worth it to be away from him.
But, you had to admit, you sort of enjoyed the lessons.
He stood behind you, wrapping you up in his arms as he corrected your stance.  Out here, he had to speak under his breath beside your ear, and it made chills run up your spine.  “Align the sights,” he told you, tapping the small metal divot on top of the pistol.  
You nodded, shutting one eye tight and trying to aim better; adjusting your head to get the right stance just pushed you up against his shoulder more, and you tried not to lean back into him.
“Pull the trigger when you’re ready,” he instructed; he was barely making any sound at all, more shaping a breath around his words than really speaking.
Even knowing it wouldn’t go off, you started to shrink away as you pulled the trigger; it was heavier than you expected, forcing you to strain to turn the revolver.
“Don’t flinch,” he warned.  “Stay steady.”
You still did, a little bit, but you calmed yourself with a breath and tried not to pre-emptively react: when you finally pulled the trigger all the way, the revolver turned with a click, but that was it.  
“Good,” he said simply.
“How can you know?” you asked.  “Without shooting anything—”
“You’re not using a bullet for practice,” he reminded you with a frown.
“I know, I know— I just mean, how can you know I would’ve hit what I was aiming at?”
“As long as these line up,” he replied as he touched the sights again, “and you don’t flinch, you will.”
You nodded, hoping that was enough, but then he took the revolver and took his shotgun off of his back.  “I— I can’t shoot that thing—”
“Yes you can,” he promised, shaking his head dismissively.  “The rifle— you can’t shoot that.  That requires a steady hand.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were shaking as you took the shotgun from him, so you couldn’t exactly deny it.  And, furthermore, the whole point of the sniper rifle was to get things that were far away… you were only planning to use these things if something got too close.
~
A lot of things had gotten more natural with Emmett— you talked sometimes, you ate together, he even let you come with him on trips out sometimes.  But one thing that never really changed was how weird it was to sleep beside him; what did change was why it was weird.
From the beginning, you couldn’t sleep unless you knew where he was.  Even if you couldn’t fully trust him then, you still had that anxiety of being abandoned in the night like you had before you were captured; for better or for worse, Emmett was obviously tough enough to protect you and was the only thing between you and certain death or enslavement out there in the world.
As a result, he’d been sleeping beside you, just to get you to stop waking up in cold sweats as often.  And now that you trusted him and knew him a little better, you expected it to be easier to sleep with him there… if anything, you were getting less sleep than ever.
You were struggling to understand why— or maybe you were just struggling to accept it— but having him right beside you all night kept you up, kept your heart beating fast, kept you listening to the sound of his breathing instead of just focusing on your own.
At least tonight, you could blame it on the cold.  You both had on several layers, but it was pretty much impossible to keep a space like this warm— underground, uninsulated— and it was only getting colder since the sun set.
"Chilly," you announced as you pulled the blankets up higher, and Emmett hummed in agreement.  That was the extent of your bravery, you couldn't bring yourself to ask him outright if he'd move a little closer so you could share some heat.
You waited a few minutes, wondering if he was already asleep, and then reached towards him in the dark; but when your hand brushed against him, he shrugged it away.  Turning his back to you, he seemed to huddle up a little bit more as if shrinking away from you, and you sighed.
“You don’t have to be so far,” you whispered, and he sighed.  
“Yes, I do,” he insisted, stern yet soft-spoken.
“Please, Emmett, it’s cold…”
“I know, sweetheart, I just… I wanna do right by ya, that’s all,” he sighed.  
“There’s nothing wrong with holding me to warm up,” you sighed.  “I mean, it’s not like you’re… thinking about anything else.”
“Of course,” he choked, “okay, fine, if you’re cold… c’mere, then.”
You wiggled your way closer as he rolled onto his back, sighing when you felt how warm he was even through his clothes.  Pressing your head to his chest, you heard his breath catch as you lifted your leg to drape over his, trying to get him as close as possible.
He seemed to hesitate first, but then he relaxed slightly and rested his arms around your back.  
It had been a long time since someone held you like this.  You sunk into his arms, loving how it felt to be pressed into him, and you let out a little hum of satisfaction as your shivers went away and his warmth began to absorb.
He seemed tense beneath you at times, and you feared that doing this would keep him from sleeping; but, frankly, you were desperate enough for your own sleep that you weren’t planning on worrying too much about his… you quite literally didn’t plan on losing any sleep over it.
It was impossible to say how long you'd been asleep— you weren't even fully awake yet— but when you started to stir, you felt him shifting under you.  But you were taken from half-consciousness into pure lucidity when you felt a harder, hotter shape against your inner thigh; didn't take a detective to figure out he had an erection.  You shouldn't have reacted, you realized it a second too late, but you had to gasp when you felt it— mostly because it seemed quite thick even though his pajama trousers—
“I’m sorry,” he breathed right away.
"It's okay," you assured, but he kept going.
“I can’t help it— I don’t mean anything by it, I just… I’m only a man.”
“It’s okay,” you repeated softly, though your face had never felt so hot.  “I understand, it’s normal—“
He started to pull away, and you whined as you grabbed at his shoulders.
“Wait, you don’t have to go,” you gasped, “I won’t be able to sleep…”
“Well, it’s never gonna go away with you pressed up to me!” he grunted.  “C’mon, sweetheart, gimme a chance here…”
“I really don’t mind it, Emmett—“
"I do," he snapped.  "You're young— younger than you realize."
"I'm grown," you promised, but he peeled you off of him and turned away.
"Go to sleep," he demanded.
"But—"
"Just go back to sleep!" he ordered.  
Though you weren't sure how you were supposed to sleep with your heart racing and your mind playing the moment you felt his cock against your leg on loop, you decided you would try just because his stern voice sort of scared you into obeying.
It did work, eventually— you can only lay down in the dark for so long before sleep is unavoidable— but you still awoke sometime later, and heard him breathing differently beside you.  There was no light to see what he was doing, but you could hear his arm moving against the blanket under him— and when you heard him sigh, you imagined that he might be jerking off.  Maybe his erection wouldn't go away until he did that, and you bit your lip as you tried to picture it: stroking himself, breathing deeply, being careful not to make too much noise or even move too much.  But in your head, he was too desperate, struggling to hold himself back from bucking up into his palm, his cock flexing as his orgasm threatened to spill over at any moment.  
The thought made you want to touch yourself, too— you were getting wet already and your hips shifted in hopes of finding something to rub against— but you were far too afraid to get caught or startle Emmett into stopping.  
You heard a tense sigh and all that motion behind you stopped; you bit your lip as you wondered if he just came.  And if he did, what had he been thinking of?  He seemed so offended by the idea of being attracted to you— he didn't even acknowledge it, like it was wrong to even suggest— but you hoped somehow that he had been imagining you.  If only he could've told you, if only he had pulled you closer in the dark and asked you to take care of his problem for him… maybe you should've been ashamed for thinking it, but you would've spread your legs for him right away if he'd told you he wanted you.  Even if it was just taking care of his needs, not real love— even if it was only a practical thing.  You couldn't do much for him, but you could certainly help in that regard.
But, at the same time, you knew that if Emmett ever did use you in such a way, you'd fall in love with him.  Even if it meant nothing to him, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself; you couldn't admit to yourself how close you were to that edge already, but you couldn't deny how quickly you would fall over it if he ended up fucking you.
Or maybe it wouldn't be like that— fucking, that is; it's a rather crass way to put it.  Maybe it wouldn't be that way, maybe it would be gentle and sweet and passionate.  He certainly was kind to you, and unexpectedly patient… you wondered if that would translate into him being delicate with you, soft touches and slow kisses— really making love, you know.
Or, maybe he'd been alone so long that he wouldn't be able to help himself; maybe he'd just have to moan in your ear while he took you roughly, holding tight to your hips so you couldn't do anything but take him just the way he wanted.  Maybe he'd leave bruises and marks on your skin, reminders of his work, and bite down on you to keep himself from being too loud.  
Your back was arching into nothing, just hoping that he would turn around and pull you close, press his chest into your back, and whisper in your ear as he started to tug your pants down.  Sorry, sweetheart, I just need you too bad…
It was a miracle you ever fell back asleep with that thought in your mind.  But you did, somehow— a frustratingly dreamless sleep— and when you woke up in the morning, he was gone again.
~
Since that night, you’d felt this tension between you— but you had no clue if he felt it, too.  He was nice, in his own way, but definitely on the aloof side; and he seemed to avoid you a little more after all that happened anyway.  It sort of made you wonder if he resented you, if he was angry with you somehow for what happened— maybe you’d been too pushy, you were never trying to force him into anything of course— but then again, you figured he wouldn’t be working so hard to take care of you both if that were the case.
Even if you couldn’t hunt or even cook very well, you tried to be helpful in various ways; this little underground hideout was certainly tidier and cozier than it had ever been before, and you tried to take pride in that instead of thinking of yourself as useless to him.  And all his clothes were mended, you made sure of that; he seemed to appreciate it, at least.
Now that you thought of it, you were sort of becoming a homemaker now— you felt a bit conflicted at the realization.  There’s nothing wrong with it, right?  Just being here, helping how you can?  But you wanted to be more useful, if you could— you just didn’t know how.
(Well, you had ideas… but you weren’t about to suggest that, after how awkward it all was last time.)
Maybe just your company was enough for him, otherwise he probably wouldn’t still keep you around… but then again, for someone who apparently wanted your company, he wasn’t so talkative.  It would make more sense if you two were up all night, telling each other everything about your lives and your dreams and anything you could possibly remember to talk about— but it wasn’t like that at all.  He still avoided personal questions even after nearly a month together, and he had a tendency to just hum and nod or shake his head when you asked him something.
But, the good news was, you’d gotten a little more comfortable leaving the underground hideout without him.  You never went far, obviously, but you went far enough to stretch your legs and get some fresh air and, today, stumble upon a little clearing with a pond.  It was relatively small, but deep, and best of all it had a river that fed into it, over a cliff; to put it more plainly, it had a waterfall.  It was small— you figured it probably didn’t pour at all unless there had been good rainfall recently— but it still meant you had a little more freedom here than usual.  Ambient noise, as you understood it, deterred the creatures because they couldn’t stop it and couldn’t hear other sounds over it.  You weren’t about to belt out Whitney Houston or anything, but you could make some sound— and the sound you made right away when you saw it was getting your clothes off as fast as you could and diving right in.
The water was a little cold— okay, very fucking cold— but it was worth it: being able to clean yourself more thoroughly than normal was quite a treat, and one you planned on relishing.
You found yourself laughing— you sort of couldn’t stop, actually.  Partially because you were cold and shivering like crazy, partially because you were giddy… mostly just because you could.  You kept your clothes and revolver in a neat pile by the cliff wall, trying not to stray too far from it in case someone came by; but, at the same time, you were also trying to just forget about everything that scared you for a moment and be free.  
You soaked your hair and ran your hands over your face, letting the water renew your skin— you couldn’t deny this cold plunge was invigorating, if not especially relaxing like a hot bath would’ve been.  But hot baths were obviously rare in these times, and you closed your eyes as you tried to remember the last one you took.  You leaned back in the water, floating partially against the flow of the waterfall behind you, and remembered simpler times: long baths, fresh meals, 
Not everything was perfect then.  Your life was easier, yes, but you’d still longed for someone to share it with.  Someone to trust.  You opened your eyes and looked up at the sky, a pale grey-ish blue that covered the sun but was still somehow too bright and made you squint; you sighed, moving your arms enough to feel the water swirl between your fingers.
For some reason, you thought of Emmett just then; you wanted to tell him about this place as soon as he got back home, you could bring him here and he could swim too— he probably wouldn’t skinny dip with you, right?  Definitely seemed out of his comfort zone, he wouldn’t even sleep next to you at night anymore… but you still giggled at the thought, wondering if you’d get a chance to see the rest of his tattoo that you’d noticed peeking out from his sleeve sometimes.  Then you could ask him about it, move closer, trace the lines with your finger; you could watch the goosebumps prickle on his skin from the cold water, and shiver even more when you met his gaze—
You shook your head like it might knock the thought out of your brain.  He’d made it clear he didn’t have that sort of interest in you.  It broke your heart a little, but you had no choice but to accept it.  Still, you had this nagging feeling that it wasn’t you— he implied before it was your age, or some kind of chivalry thing; and then there was all that grief, something anybody left had to have by now.
You, too, had lost loved ones that day, and in the days since— that was unavoidable— but what you had nearly lost most of all was yourself.  And then he found you, and you’d found something you’d been looking for for so long… much longer than all this.
Your heart skipped a beat when you heard something moving, just past the trees; you whipped around in the water, looking everywhere for the source of the noise, and you saw a figure slip back behind a trunk.  You’d never felt so sick with terror all at once, and in a second, you leaned over and snatched your revolver off the top of your pile of clothes.
Pointing it at the tree, you wondered if you should be barking out orders right now— come out with your hands up or something— but that wouldn’t be helpful if there was a creature nearby… or if there was more than one person in these woods.  You swallowed, knowing a revolver wasn’t going to cut it if there was a whole group closing in on you now.  
Slowly moving through the water, you walked up the bank of the pond, and when you heard another shifting movement from behind the tree, you shuddered and shut one of your eyes.  Align the sights.  Stay steady.
Suddenly, the figure stepped out, and you didn’t even stop to think: you pulled the trigger and fired, eyes shutting tight as the kickback flung your arms up and the sound echoed through the forest.  
You hesitated to open your eyes, but just before you did, you heard a groan— in a voice all too familiar.  When you looked, there was a man on the ground, and your heart stopped again when you saw his face.
“Fuck!  Emmett!” you yelped, running the rest of the way out of the water and not caring at all that you were naked and dripping— you ran up to him and straddled him as he rolled on the ground, clutching his arm.  “Oh my god!  I’m so sorry— oh my god!  Please, please tell me you’re okay—”
He didn’t say anything, in fact his face was still screwed into a tight wince as you tried to see where he was holding— his arm, just below the shoulder, you could see where the sleeve of his jacket was torn and blood had begun to stain the fabric.
“Emmett, Jesus, I swear to god— I didn’t know it was you, I—” you began to promise, before you wondered if you should ask what the hell he was doing there.  Why didn’t you tell me it was you?  Why didn’t you say something?  But you decided, as you watched him bite his lip to keep from being any louder, that now was not the time to interrogate him; shooting him had clearly irritated him enough already.  “That— that was fucking loud,” you realized, lowering your voice.  “We need to go back before—”
He just nodded, and you got up off of him to help him up and grab your clothes— a naked woman and a bleeding man running through the woods.  Maybe that’s just a normal day in the post-apocalypse.
~
He hissed when you applied the disinfectant to the cut, looking away rather than letting you see how this affected him— that, or the other side of the room suddenly got incredibly interesting.  But you knew as well as anyone, living in this room for over a month, that it was not very interesting.
“God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, wincing yourself just having to put him through this.  “Can I keep going, or—?”
He nodded, still looking the other direction, and you gave him a sympathetic frown as you started to dab at the cut.  
It wasn’t too deep, thank heavens— it probably didn’t even need stitches, just some alcohol and gauze— but you still felt more guilty than you had for anything you’d ever done in your life.  “Thank god I missed,” you chuckled softly, wondering if it was still too soon for humor— and he didn’t laugh, so maybe it was.
“Yeah— you flinched,” he noticed, sounding correctional, and your jaw almost dropped.
“Fucking— are you serious, Emmett?” you snapped.  “You’re mad at me for not killing you?!”
“You didn’t know it was me,” he replied.
You sighed, thankful he was looking away so he wouldn’t catch your eyeroll.  “Of course,” you breathed.  “Of course I didn’t know it was you— I would’ve never…”
He looked at you again.  “I know,” he promised quietly.
You chewed your lip and nodded.
Taking the bloodied rag away, you looked at the wound— it was a lot better already, and it looked clean, and you still couldn’t imagine forgiving yourself for doing it to him.  You took out a bandage and started to wrap it up around the gash.
“Your ink’s still intact,” you noticed, smiling as you got your look at the tattoo— although you obviously didn’t mean to go through all this just to see it.  You didn’t trace the lines but you did run your fingers over the whole piece: a mountainscape, with tall trees and a cloudy sky.  “It’s pretty.”
He snorted a little.  “I was just a kid when I got that— tryin’ to be tough.  Definitely wasn’t going for ‘pretty’.”
“Well, then you shouldn’t have gotten this lovely view,” you smiled back.  “Is this a real place?”
“Yeah, Montana— grew up there,” he said.  “Always thought I’d go back, then I had my kids— and then, you know—”
“Right,” you nodded, finishing up your gauze-ing of the damage.  You were gonna let him put his shirt back on, not that you really wanted him to, but he didn’t yet.  “Must have been nice, growing up under mountains like these.”
He shrugged.  “It was— sometimes.  It was quiet, I’ll tell you that.  All I wanted was to escape, back then.  Then all I wanted was to go back.”
You smiled a little.  “Yeah, I know that feeling— I mean, I think everyone feels like that.  I always wanted to move to the city— New York, you know,” you said with a whimsical affect on your words, “it’s like a mythical place to anybody from anywhere else.”
He chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck (with his uninjured arm) and nodding in agreement.  “Yeah, I get that.  But then how’d you end up in the suburbs?  Or— don’t tell me you came all the way from the city—”
“No, no, not that far,” you promised, “but I was a little closer to it before everything happened.  I, uh… I actually ended up in the suburbs because of a boy.”
He nodded, wearing a sort of knowing look, and you felt a little embarrassed.  “Ah,” he said simply.
“And then, um, you know— he left.  As they tend to.”
“Boys?”
“Everyone.”
He swallowed; you regretted saying it, sort of, but you were still talking— like you couldn’t stop yourself.  Your hands were shaking— you were looking down at them in your lap, you knew they were— and you just felt like you couldn’t keep your mouth shut any longer.
“You know, this is the first time that I really…” you sighed and shook your head, looking for the words.  “This is the most I’ve ever trusted somebody.  I guess because I have to— but you—”
“S’alright,” he interrupted, “you don’t have to say all that.”
“You won’t even let me thank you?” you laughed, but your frustration was obvious; when you looked up at him, his eyes were filled with something that finally made your hands stop shaking.  Flooded with a sudden wave of courage (and wanting to act on it before it inevitably subsided), you leaned forward and kissed him; you shut your eyes tight— you would’ve lost your nerve otherwise— and you held his cheek in one hand, the tips of your fingers brushing against his hair while your palm pressed against his somewhat unruly beard.
For one moment, it was perfect, but then he reached up and took your hand, guiding you away slowly.  You pulled back, more dejected than ever, and he gave you a soft frown as he shook his head. 
Falling back into your chair, you slumped dejectedly; you didn’t want to cry, it would just seem pathetic now, but your eyes were watering anyways.  “I’m sorry,” you whispered.
“No— it’s alright,” he promised, “I’m not… offended, or something.”
“What am I to you?” you asked, point blank.  “I mean— I know I’m not— fuck, I’m stupid.  I know I’m not…”
Despite starting again, you couldn’t find the words the second time, either.
“I just mean… do you see me as, like, a charity case?  A daughter figure or something?”
He shook his head.  “No,” he said, “but I— you’re not my property.  That’s not why I took you from that son of a bitch.  You can leave whenever you want, you know.”
“But do you want me to stay?” you asked, feeling tears run down your cheeks suddenly even though you had specifically requested that they not do that.
Your real question was trapped in the middle of that sentence: do you want me?
He looked away again, and your hurt started to shift into anger— because that’s all anger really is, anyway: hurt, dressing up as something else.  “You treat me like a child!  Sometimes you won’t even look at me, like you’re embarrassed of me!  I’m not your property but I’m not your equal, either— so what am I to you?  Do you even see me as a woman at all?!”
That accusation seemed to get his attention, and he almost looked angry, too.  “I am well aware that you’re a woman,” he said sternly.
“Is that why you were watching me at the pond?”
You’d never seen him with that deer in the headlights look— technically, you still didn’t, because he turned his head away quickly.
“That’s what you were doing, wasn’t it?” you pressed.  “How long were you there before I heard you?  Come on, Emmett— look at me.  Or will you only do that when I’m naked?”
He snapped, standing up quickly and grabbing you by your— his— shirt to pull you with him.  “Do you know what you’re fucking doing to me?” he growled at you.
“Same thing I did to you that night it got too cold?” you returned with a sneer, and he shoved you away with a shudder, turning to face the wall and crossing his arms.  
There was a silence, though it wasn’t nearly as long as the ones you’d gotten used to with him, and he dropped his shoulders as he sighed.  “I’ve done what I can for you,” he said quietly— and your stomach twisted in knots.  He’s going to ask me to leave, you assumed instantly.  “I’ve tried to… to leave you alone—”
“That’s what you think I want?” you realized, almost laughing it was so absurd.  “Begging you not to leave, to stay where I can see you all night, trying to get you to talk to me— because I want to be alone?”
“After what happened to you— after how it must have been with him—” he started, turning around and looking at you sadly— “I’d wanna be fucking left alone.  I’ll say that.”
“Well, I guess I’m just not strong enough for that,” you decided with an unhappy sort of smile.  “I guess I still need someone.  I need you.  And clearly that’s just my fucking problem, so I’m sorry for making it yours.”
But he stepped closer to you, reaching out to hold your shoulders, and you met his gaze again.  You shivered, just like you thought you would.  “Say it again,” he requested flatly.  It wasn’t very specific, but you knew exactly what he meant.
“I need you,” you said again, softer, and he shut his eyes with a sigh.
Your eyes shut, too, when he leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours; you breathed together for a second, your hands moving up to his bare chest as you bit your lip.
“I need you,” you repeated, even quieter— a whisper now— and another tear striped your face.  “Emmett, I need you—”
“Fuck,” he said softly, and you smiled.  “Fuck, I need you, too.”
You smiled even wider then; he could probably hear your heartbeat, you would’ve sworn it was beating out of your chest.  Opening your eyes when you felt him pull back, you waited patiently— like you had been since this all began.
“I just— I don’t want you thinking that you have to—” he started to explain.
“I don’t have to,” you nodded, “but I want to.  Is that wrong?”
He didn’t answer, but he kissed you; he held your jaw gently, tilting your head back, and he kissed you in just the way you’d dreamed of.
It was simple enough at first, sweet and sort of slow— he pulled you closer, wrapping you in a hug while you held onto his shoulders— but then it got… heavier.  Hungrier.  Hotter.
You were gasping as you opened your mouth wider, all but begging him to dive deeper; and for his part, he kept grabbing your waist and hips, pulling you into him like he couldn’t get you close enough, and you thought your knees were going to buckle.
The two of you stumbled back, together, towards the sort-of bed that you sort-of shared; he laid you back on it, and you heard yourself whimper a little as you let him slot himself between your legs.
His weight was oddly comforting on top of you, pressing you back into the nest of blankets as you arched your back against him.
You both pulled back from the kiss as you looked down, needing to see somewhat what you were doing as you started to open his belt.  He looked down too, watching you do it for a second, before laughing a bit and leaning in to kiss your neck.  “Fuck,” you sighed, “come on, you’re gonna distract me—”
“What’s the hurry?” he purred, grabbing your hands and pinning them back instead— and that made you moan out loud.  “We’ve got all the time we want, darlin’...”
“Fuck, but I—” you whined, though you struggled to pull a sentence together when he dragged his tongue over your pulse like that.  “God, I just— please—”
“Shh,” he soothed, “m’gonna take care of you.  Gonna take care of you, sweet girl, I promise…”
And he’d taken care of you every way he knew how before, so you trusted him.  Still, you weren’t exceptionally patient.
You gasped when you felt him press his hips to yours through all these goddamn clothes; he was hard, really fucking hard, and it made your head spin.  How were you supposed to wait for him to be all slow and romantic and stuff when you felt that?  “Pretty girl,” he cooed at you quietly, “look at me for a second.”
You looked up at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and he smiled back at you as he pet your forehead for a moment.  
“There you are,” he breathed, and your heart swelled.
He undressed you carefully, like you were the one with an injury, and you bit your lip to fight the urge to beg him to hurry the fuck up.  He kissed all over your neck and chest, even as far down as your belly while he was pulling your panties down your thighs— and of course he looked up at you as he did it, like he knew it would absolutely wreck you.  “God, Emmett, please,” you whined, sighing with relief when he sat up and finished opening his belt.  He kept looking at you while he did it, something darker and heavier in his stare as he pushed his jeans down; you couldn’t help but look down at it, and you breathed in sharply as you bit your lip.
Of course it was fucking big— you’d figured it was from what you felt before— with a thick, leaking head and a curve that you could just tell was going to fit perfectly inside you.  Your hips rocked a little into nothing at the sight, and you moaned when he kissed you again— more desperate than ever, both of you.
You whined loudly, much louder than you meant to, when he pushed inside you all at once.  It wasn’t too fast or too rough or anything— but it was plenty to be filled by in one go, and your nails dug into his back.
“Fuck,” he grunted, shutting his eyes tightly for a moment.  “So fuckin’ wet.”
You whimpered, feeling your walls tighten up hearing him say that.  It was no wonder, with the way he’d been toying with you— and not just tonight.  “Oh my god,” you gasped out, instinctively wrapping your legs around his hips like you didn’t want him to move at all.  Obviously, though, you couldn’t stop him from pulling back and thrusting in again, nor did you want to; your back arched, hard, and your moan echoed around the room.  “F-fuck,” you choked, “it’s so— you’re so— god.”
“Shh,” he soothed, in a sweet way, and his hands found your hips to pull them up higher to his; he moved you just how he wanted, you were putty in his fingers, and he groaned as he thrusted into you at the new angle.
It was deep.  It was really, really fucking deep; and you thought you were at your limit, but you still somehow wanted more.  Toes curling, you let your back arch between your hips held to his and your shoulders laying back on the blankets— your arms went limp and yet your fingers were searching for something to hold onto as he moved a bit faster.
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he groaned, a spare hand leaving your hips and groping roughly at one of your tits.  You just gasped and pushed your chest up into his touch, pulsing inside when he pinched a hard nipple.  “Feels good?”
“Yes!” you shouted.  “Yes, fuck yes— don’t stop, please, please—”
Panting, he snarled a little, but he sure as hell didn’t stop.  He was right about you being wet, you could even hear it when he thrusted faster; and that just turned you on even more, the whole thing was a vicious cycle really.
For the most part, you kept your eyes shut because it was just what felt natural— but when you did open your eyes, you caught glimpses of him staring down at you, his eyes moving from your face to your bouncing tits to where he was inside you, where his hands held onto your hips and pet them soothingly in contrast to his rough thrusts.
Then, he watched his hand move to the middle, just above where his cock filled you, and his thumb started to rub your clit.
You had no excuse for being so sensitive, but you cried out and tried to grab his wrist from how intense it was.  “Emmett!” you nearly screamed.  “O-oh god, oh god—”
“Jus’ wanna feel you come, sweetheart,” he explained, his voice darker than usual.  “Can you come for me?”
“Y-yeah,” you agreed with a nod, already feeling delirious from all this.  “Yeah, fuck, I can come— you’re gonna make me come, fuck…”
You went from yelling to whispering by the end of your sentence, though you weren’t sure why, and he kept a steady pace with his hips and his hand until your whole body started to shake.
“I— I’m close,” you choked out.
“I know,” he said.  Smug little shit— too bad you were too busy coming to complain about that attitude.
Shuddering all over, you opened your eyes and looked at him one more time— he was looking right back at you, jaw tight and nostrils flaring, so that only made it worse— before you arched back harder than you thought possible and gave into it.  Your hands kept searching for something to hold, like you might actually fall somehow if you didn’t get an iron-tight grip on his thigh or arm or something.  You found his bent knee but his hands found yours a second later— and he interlaced his fingers with yours, laying on top of you again and pressing deep into you even while you were still in the middle of your ecstasy.  
You weren’t even sure what you were saying anymore, you could tell your mouth was moving and that was about it.  It probably wasn’t even words; but this pleasure, you were totally submerged in it.  He kept kissing you and praising you, fucking you deeper into the feeling and into the thoroughly-disturbed blankets under you.  “Good girl,” he whispered against your neck, “good fucking girl— god, I can feel it— so good for me—”
When a hint of your awareness of reality returned, your mind and body coming down from the high and settling into something a little easier and familiar, your arms reached up and held him close.  "Fuck, Emmett," you whimpered, tears welling in your eyes as you were flooded with an emotion you couldn't name.  "Emmett, I love you.  I'm in love with you."
He breathed heavy and held you tighter, burying his face in your neck as you started to really cry.
"I love you," you said again, grabbing at him harder as he began to kiss your neck— your jaw, your cheek— and his hand wiped your tears away.  
"Shh, I know," he promised quietly.  "It's okay, beautiful, I know."
He wasn't ready to say it yet— but you felt it.  You could feel it just in the way he held you. 
He pulled back enough that you could see his face, propping himself up above you.  Sweat made his hair cling to his forehead, and you smiled at the sight— he looked damn good like this, finally giving in.  You hadn’t realized he was going easy on you, until he pushed in a little harder and a little deeper.  
You whined, reaching up to grab onto his arm, and he hissed when you accidentally grabbed onto the gauze-wrapped wound.  “Fuck, sorry, sorry,” you breathed, moving your hand down, and he laughed a little.
“S’okay,” he assured, leaning down and kissing your cheek sweetly.  “It’s okay, sweetheart…”
You eventually ended up holding onto the back of his neck, running your fingers with his hair even if it was damp from sweat— you were sweating, too, and you’d never thought it could be this sensual to get this way.  All this heat and movement in such a small space, all these blankets and insulation, somehow it made you both even needier.  You didn’t care if it was putting that pond bath to waste, you just wanted more: you made it clear, with the way you needily hugged him closer.
You didn’t even realize you were about to come again until he pointed it out.  “Fuck, another one for me?” he realized with a proud groan.  “Gonna give me another one, sweet girl?  Fuck, that’s it— so good for me—”
It was so sudden, not like the last one that built up and spilled over slowly— this one was hard and fast and left you completely spent and almost too fucked out to notice how much faster he was moving.  But it was impossible not to notice him picking up the pace, getting a little louder himself, grabbing your hands again and squeezing them tightly.
The way he moaned in your ear was just too perfect; you whimpered and tightened your legs around him, gasping each time he reached the deepest parts of you.
"Baby," he grunted, "say you’re mine.”
“Yours, Emmett,” you promised with a whimper.  "I'm yours, I fucking swear— all yours."
You'd never had a chance to know how good it could be to belong to someone— it didn't have to be bad, it didn't have to be like it was before.
He didn’t slow down until every drop was inside you; he gasped in heavy breaths, he held on tightly to your waist, but he didn’t stop until you were completely filled and he was exhausted in every way.
You both took a long time to catch your breath, and in the meantime, he kissed you again.  You figured you weren’t a very good kisser in this state, you were completely numb in the mind and body (in the most amazing way) and you could barely find the energy to even lift your hands— but he didn’t seem to mind, because he kissed you for a long, long time.
Eventually, you were both (mostly) in reality again, and he pulled up to hover above you.  You touched his arm softly, and he looked at your hand before looking at your face again.
“Sorry,” he blurted out suddenly as he looked down at where your bodies were joined, like he was just realizing what he’d done.  “I didn’t mean to— I shouldn’t have finished inside, I just—”
“It’s okay,” you laughed, “I would’ve been kind of pissed if you pulled out.”
“But we should— I mean, we need to be careful,” he panted.  “Next time we have to—”
“Next time,” you breathed happily, pulling him down into another kiss— less tired, more… smiley.  You’d probably seen him smile more in the last ten minutes than the rest of your time together combined.
“What, you thought that was a one-night stand?” he laughed, biting your lip playfully before he broke away from the kiss.  “Or do you just wanna fuck around and pretend not to want each other like a couple of morons before we do it again?”
“I mean, maybe that’s why this time was so great,” you shrugged, “all the anticipation.”
“Nah,” he breathed, leaning in and kissing your neck again— tender and patient, making you sigh and shut your eyes.  “It’s so great ‘cause it’s how this is supposed to be.  ‘Cause we need each other.”
You shivered, just as much from his words as his delicate kisses along your pulse, and you almost melted right back into those blankets again— but instead, you startled him by sitting up quickly.  “Alright, I think I’m ready for that next time now,” you purred, rolling him onto his back and straddling him with a mischievous grin.
“Jesus, woman,” he groaned, hands settling on your waist, “you’re gonna kill me, I think.”
“Well, I missed the first time,” you giggled as you touched the edge of his bandage.  “And we have some time to make up for.  God, I wanted you so bad, Emmett.”
He sighed, his chest sinking, and he let his head fall back as he gave in.  “This is how I always hoped I’d go out anyways,” he decided.
2K notes · View notes
kiss-me-cill-me · 13 days
Note
Hi!!! I know it’s only a small idea but I wanted to request something for Emmett based on when he first puts his hand around Evelyns mouth to keep her quiet but instead he does it to the reader to keep her quiet, in whatever scenario you can think of. The way he looked was so hot with that eye contact it had me sweating 🥵
My dear anon, literally no idea is too small for Emmett. This man is so underappreciated it's a crime. I also decided to shoehorn in some inspiration from another one of my favorite snippets of Emmett thirst, which is the gif below of him looking through his rifle sights because hnnnnnnggg. Hope you don't mind ;) Thank you for requesting! <3
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Distractions
Pairing: Emmett x Reader
Word Count: 4.5k
Summary: The more time you spend around Emmett, the more distracted you get. And when you finally can't keep quiet about it any longer, Emmett has to take matters into his own hands (heh heh) and make you stay quiet.
Warnings: Smut, sexual tension, a whole lot of build-up, close call with a creature, kinda angry sex, quiet sex, biting
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
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Distracted could not even begin to describe the way you were feeling.
The dim light forced you to squint as you watched Emmett - the scope of his rifle held out just in front of his face as he peered through the sights to scan for potential threats. He took his time, sweeping across the expanse of road stretched out in front of you. Making triple sure that nothing would jump out at you as you climbed down from where you were perched. 
The gun rested firmly against his squared shoulders, and you found your gaze trailing idly from there, down over the line of his arm. Somewhere from off in the distance, a pale yellow light illuminated him just enough for you to make out the soft hair on his forearms. You wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, but shook your head, chasing the thought away quickly. It wouldn’t do either of you any good if you startled him.
You refocused on his lips, which were parted slightly. In concentration, his tongue darted out to lick at the sliver of space between them. You wished you had something to hold onto and brace yourself with, against the wave of desire that moved through your whole body. 
But, aside from you and Emmett, the only other thing around was an old metal guardrail. And you really couldn’t risk releasing the noise that might hide in its depths. These days, anything that looked even remotely like it might creak was off limits.
A gentle breeze rustled his hair, and he lowered the rifle. He turned briefly to nod at you, once. It was safe. 
No words dared to fill the dark, empty space as both of you stepped carefully over the guardrail. Pausing at the top of the overpass to take one last look at the scene below, you stopped to reflect on the past two days. That was how long you’d been traveling for, and you’d been together with Emmett for only a bit longer.
Although, “together” was the operative word. You had been sticking close to each other, under some quiet but shared understanding that two people were often better than one, at least when it came to things like keeping watch while you camped out in the open, or scavenging for supplies. But he and you weren’t together together, as much as your mind liked to wander and go wild with possibilities. In fact-
Something suddenly caught your attention, and you snapped back into focus again, to see Emmett waving an arm at you. He was standing a short distance in front of you, partway down the hill that connected the overpass to the wide road below. Staring up at where you stood, with an inquisitive look and just a hint of concern in his eyes, half hooded with shadow.
You gave him a thumbs up, and cautiously started to make your own way down the steep hill.
It was early. So early that it was still almost full dark out, and you followed the beam of the flashlight that Emmett held like a beacon. Usually, you weren’t out until after the sun had risen. But last night, neither of you had seemed able to sleep, and so it felt silly to waste time just sitting around when it would be light in a few hours.
You thought you could glimpse the first few streaks of dawn, just barely starting to leak out on the horizon. Goosebumps spread over your skin, in the chilly half-darkness. Emmett had loaned you a checkered bandana, and you reached up to tuck it a little more snugly into the neck of your jacket. The rough fabric brushed up against your chin, and you smiled.
In front of you, Emmett stopped short. You were only a few paces away from him now, and you paused just behind him, before you could bump into the hand he’d extended to stop you.
The hill didn’t sit fully flush with the ground below. Instead, it dropped sharply off at a stone wall, just a few feet above the road.
Emmett kept one hand pressed to his rifle, holding it still as he eased himself down; careful to not make even the smallest noise. You shuffled up to the edge of the wall, ready to follow right after him. As you stooped down, Emmett reached up, offering help.
You accepted it, awkwardly, and let him take one of your hands in his while the other came firmly to rest on the small of your back. As he guided you down, you felt your arms heat up, rapidly chasing away the goosebumps.
You looked at him once your feet were back on solid ground, slightly surprised by the physical contact. Not that it meant anything. Not that it was even anything worth getting excited about. He would probably do the same thing for anyone. He was just being helpful. 
Abruptly, you realized he’d already started to walk away, continuing on the journey that you were both supposed to be focused on. You hurried to catch up, but made sure your footsteps were soft as you followed.
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With no opportunities to talk, the time spent traveling felt long. You were both in your own worlds; Emmett focused on scanning for danger, and you, well, distracted by watching him. As usual. 
It was probably best for both of you that Emmett hadn’t yet noticed the way your gaze lingered on him. But, that was just how he’d been, in all of the short time you’d known him. He was observant, and overly anxious to keep an eye out at all times. He seemed almost not to notice anything that wasn’t actively threatening his safety, and that included you.
Streaks of pink started to stretch across the sky, and then blended into the blue of a new day. Finally, it was light enough to see clearly, and you looked around at what was once a small town. You were just passing through, but the devastation that was clearly written across streets, stores, and houses felt unsettling. 
To your left, a sharp, unexpected sound made your blood run ice cold. Emmett froze right along with you, and you both whipped around to watch as an animal scampered away from a trash can, now tipped over and spilling out garbage onto the street.
Litter was the very least of your worries, though, as an all-too-familiar screech echoed across the empty street.
What shit luck. That was the only thought running through your mind as Emmett frantically dragged you by the arm, not wasting even a second more as the creature advanced. It was close by, and you had nowhere to hide. 
Apparently Emmett did, though, as he forcefully shoved you into the backseat of a car. Both of the doors, you noticed, were missing - completely torn off by some previous run-in with these monsters, by the looks of it.
As your back landed against the cloth seat cushions, you felt the wind knock out of your lungs. The soft sound of breath leaving your body was silenced, as Emmett slammed down on top of you, hastily bringing a hand to your mouth.
Your eyes blew wide as his body pressed fully into yours, stealing your breath in a quite different way. A sound caught in your throat, and you swallowed it down, hard. You were not about to get both you and him killed by moaning at a time like this.
His palm pressed down over your nose and lips, and you could feel the heat of your own breath as he stayed there, not focused on you but still scanning, even now, for the monster that sounded like it had finally arrived. The metallic sound of the trash can echoed out on the street.
You moved your head a little, trying to shake out of his almost-oppressive grasp to breathe easier. That finally seemed to get Emmett’s attention, and he looked down with a mix of horror and embarrassment as his hand pulled away. Still pressed tight together, you both shifted your attention to more urgent matters. 
You could still hear that thing wreaking havoc as it searched fruitlessly for the source of the sound. Sometimes you were almost impressed that the creatures could hunt at all, when they were the ones who were making the most noise out of anything. Anything left, anyway. This was a bad case of wrong place, wrong time, but for the most part, anyone who hadn’t learned early on to stay quiet was no longer around to learn.
Emmett’s arms, planted on either side of your head, tensed as his fingers dug into the seat cushions. In any other situation, this would have been pleasant. As things were now, though, you could feel both your heartbeat and his as they pounded together, hard enough to cross the thick barrier of bone and flesh.
The car lurched, and you felt your eyes bug out of your head. The creature was on top of you now, quite literally; you could hear a sharp groan as the car protested under its weight. A series of clicks told you that it was on the offensive, still searching for even the tiniest sound.
Another sharp jerk made you gasp, barely audibly, but loud enough for Emmett to press his rough hand over your mouth again. This time, he was a bit more careful, leaving you room to breathe out of your nose as he pushed his palm down on your lips. But the panic that swarmed in his eyes as you looked up told you exactly how he felt. You both stayed stock still, waiting to see if that little sound had been enough to give you away.
The car screamed even louder as the creature stepped off, lurking its way down onto the street, now on the other side of the vehicle. You stretched your neck to look back, and watched as it swiveled its head side to side. Thankfully not listening in your direction for too long. 
Cautiously, you dared to move just a few inches, wiggling and brushing your hips up against Emmett’s as you tried to make yourself more comfortable. As you did, though, the unmistakable feeling of something hard pressed into your thigh.
You looked up at him, your eyes straining with horror as both of you realized what had just happened. 
Emmett looked even more mortified than you felt; his lips pressed together in a tight line as his eyes seemed to beg for a way out of this. You threw him a panicked, questioning look. In reply, all he could do was reflect the same painful and wide-eyed face, as if to say, “What do you want me to do about it?”
There wasn’t much either one of you could do, however, as in that moment the creature’s head whirled back around with a sharp screech in your direction. You’d been quiet, you thought, although maybe the sound of your breath mixed with Emmett’s as he strained against you was enough to grab its attention again.
You both froze, and you quickly buried your face in his chest, tucking yourself away from the horrible fate that awaited you, as best you could. 
But, after a few harrowing seconds, you heard the creature move on. The sound of its clicks grew more distant as it ran off, still searching for prey.
You let out a huge breath, silently this time, and lifted your head from your hiding place. As you pulled away slightly from where you had curled up against him, you saw Emmett still looking down at you, horrified. You wondered why, for a second, before realizing your fingers were tangled firmly in his belt loops, desperately pressing his hips against yours as you’d braced for your end.
Now, though, that the danger had passed, all you were doing was grinding yourself firmly against his erection. Which had definitely not gone away, despite all the imminent, life-threatening danger.
Emmett’s hand brushed against yours, and your heart skipped, only for him to pry your fingers apart, releasing himself from your death grip. He refused to make eye contact with you; instead awkwardly shuffling out of the car, and facing away as you crawled out after him.
Your heart was still thundering in your chest, maybe even a bit louder than it had been as you were being stalked by the monster. You wished desperately to be able to talk to Emmett; you hadn’t said more than two words to him since you’d set out earlier this morning. That wasn’t unusual, but if there was ever a time when you wished for the ability to communicate, it was right now.
You scanned quickly for any safe space. Now that you had time to actually assess your surroundings, you noticed several buildings with wide open doors. You tugged Emmett’s sleeve, silently telling him to follow you.
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He did follow, somewhat reluctantly, and soon you were deep in the relative safety of the stockroom of a small store, your weapons and backpacks cast quickly aside. Someone who had been here before you had taken the time to shove mattresses up against every wall - added protection to muffle any sounds from within. Finally, you could speak.
“Emmett…”
But where could you even begin? Did you admit that you had feelings for him? Would that only scare him away? Maybe scaring him was good; if that was what a little adrenaline had done to him, part of you felt tempted to put him in even more dangerous situations. But, then again, if that’s all it had been, then maybe he didn’t like you at all. At least, not in the way you liked him. As you quietly wrestled with indecision, Emmett took over the conversation.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, still not meeting your gaze. “I didn’t mean- I’m… Fuck.”
“Sorry?” you echoed. “What are you sorry for?”
“For…”
Emmett trailed off; his face twisted into a new expression of pained awkwardness. The tension was thick enough to wrap solidly around your ankles, rooting you to the spot where you stood. 
Emmett shuffled, apparently still restless despite the heavy pressure that had settled over the small room. Your whole body felt weighed down, and yet you were still buzzing with the unchecked excitement that always came after surviving a close call. Your veins felt ready to burst.
“Shit, is it hot in here?” you wondered. 
While outside you’d been freezing in the cold morning air, suddenly in here you felt flushed. Maybe Emmett wasn’t the only one who’d been affected by the adrenaline rush.
You peeled off your jacket, and looked up to see Emmett’s eyes glued to you.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m-”
You cut Emmett off before he could finish his sentence. 
“Don’t say you’re sorry again,” you whispered, a bit more harshly than necessary. “You don’t need to apologize if it’s nothing.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Emmett sighed. 
“So it’s not nothing?”
“What’s not nothing?” Emmett shot back, exasperated. “The way that I’ve been trying my best to ignore you looking at me like you want to rip my clothes off for the last week?”
You stared back at him with renewed horror. It hadn’t really been that obvious, had it? You had felt certain he hadn’t noticed you staring.
“Why didn’t you say anything?!” you gasped. 
“Because I didn’t want what just happened to happen!”
“Nothing just happened,” you hissed.
Now you were the one spitting out denials. The oppressive atmosphere grew hotter, and you felt the need to strip off more layers. Not that doing that would be particularly helpful right now.
“Look, Emmett - do you like me?”
You figured that asking him point blank would get you the most direct answer. Instead, he looked at you as if you’d just grown an extra two heads.
And you might as well have, for all the good your current one was doing you. You racked your brain for another strategy, growing increasingly frustrated by the second.
“Do I like you?” Emmett said finally, interrupting your frenzy of thoughts. “What kind of question is that?” “It’s the kind that I’d sure like an answer to,” you replied. “If we’re going to be able to move forward from this, one way or another.”
Emmett glared at you, incredulous, his mouth hanging open as the rest of his face twisted into a look that was hard to read. Just when you thought he was going to turn on his heel and walk out, he took a step closer to you.
In the next breath, he’d grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in, quickly stifling your gasp with his lips.
Kissing Emmett felt like fighting for air, and like having it pumped directly into your lungs. All at the same time, and all scorchingly hot as his lips seared against yours. The torturous days spent fantasizing about this exact moment flashed before your eyes, as you tried to search for some hint that you’d missed to suggest that he felt the same way. Had you really been so wrapped up in your own pining that you hadn’t noticed him struggling, too?
As you both pulled back, you stared at him in shock. Emmett’s eyes were on your lips, too downcast for you to catch his gaze. But finally, they flickered up and lit the spark that had been smoldering deep inside of you. Your fingers tightened over his clothes
“Why didn’t you say anything?!” you asked again, feverish. It was a challenge to keep your voice quiet.
“Say anything about what?” Emmett bit back.
You noticed the way his eyes drifted over you, taking in the frazzled and overwhelmed state you were in. That kiss had taken a lot out of you, and you were frantically scrambling to re-collect your thoughts.
“Why torture both of us by pretending that you don’t want the same thing I do?” you clarified.
Emmett’s hands traveled up to your face, cupping your jaw in his palms as he tugged gently, pulling you to meet him again.
“Because I didn’t want any distractions.”
That was probably the most ironic answer he could have given. What had you spent the past few days doing if not being constantly, thoroughly distracted? By him; by the question of whether or not he would notice you, in the way that you found it all but impossible not to notice him?
“That’s so stupid,” you grunted, closing the rest of the distance between you.
You barely resisted as Emmett maneuvered you, swinging you both with your lips pressed together so that he could pin you against a small table. He lifted you up, making you sit on the surface, as his rough hands wandered over your legs.
“Some of us have self control,” he informed you.
“Really? Who?”
His fingers tightened their grip, and you felt thankful that you were already seated. Without the support of the table, you almost certainly would have crumpled against him. Emmett’s waist was between your legs, and you squeezed desperately, not wanting to let him go in case he suddenly got the idea that this wasn’t the time or place.
And it wasn’t, but you weren’t about to let that stop you.
Emmett’s hand snaked under your shirt, then your bra, rubbing his thumb against the hard peak that had already formed. You bit his lip, cautiously at first, and then with more vigor as your bodies reacted to the other’s touch. It had been so long since you’d done anything like this, and you felt your legs growing more shaky already.
“Take my pants off,” you gasped, pulling away for a frenzied breath of air.
Emmett deftly popped the button on your jeans; practically growling at the sight of you once he had finally peeled them off. You settled back onto the table, and hooked your legs around him once more. Already wet, you could feel yourself stick to the cloth of his t-shirt.
“Fuck,” you sighed, bracing your hands on the table to push closer.
Emmett pulled back, and just as you were about to complain, you felt his hand drift down and brush through your folds. Shivering all over again, you threw your head back.
“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” Emmett muttered, just like you’d thought he would.
“I don’t care. Need to feel you,” you moaned, grabbing his wrist and guiding his fingers right where you wanted them.
You let go, urging him to take over. Despite his reluctance, Emmett seemed all too willing to be pulled along. His fingers sank into you, eliciting a long whine.
“Be quiet,” he reminded you.
But, luckily, the threat of making enough noise to be noticed by whatever monsters were lurking outside wasn’t enough to stop him. He pressed deeper, curling his fingers and brushing the pad of his thumb dangerously close to the bundle of nerves that would almost certainly seal your fate. It was a dangerous game, and every whimper that threatened to escape your lips could be your last, if it was loud enough.
“Fuck.”
Your legs were sore from walking for days, and it hurt as he spread them. It felt good, though; the deep stretch serving to set your imagination on fire with all the possibilities that were unlocking with every twinge of your sore muscles. 
“Emmett.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “I… I want more than your fingers.”
“Don’t push it,” he warned. “You’re already causing enough trouble as is.”
You pouted, but felt something stir inside of you at his words. If you had anything to say about it, you would show him just how much trouble you could be.
“I didn’t realize this was such an- inconvenience for you,” you snapped, voice hitching in the middle as he hit that spot that made you see stars.
“I didn’t want you to realize,” he shot back. 
“And yet, look where we’ve ended up. Despite your best efforts.”
The devilish smirk that played out over your lips seemed to make Emmett falter, and you felt him brush against your clit again. You had to bite your lip to stop from screaming.
Teetering dangerously on the edge of destruction only made you more eager to press on. The adrenaline from earlier had started to resurge, and you clung to it, heart beating fast in your ears as you rapidly approached your climax.
“Emmett. Gonna come,” you warned, already out of breath before you began.
Wordlessly, Emmett kissed you again, and you felt yourself explode against him. His thumb traced circles over your clit, somehow feather-light but solid, all at once. You cursed against his lips, maybe a little louder than you should have, but it was too late to take back now. As your high faded, you listened carefully for the shrill screech that would let you know you’d been caught.
It never came, and slowly you allowed yourself to start breathing again. Leaning over you, Emmett pressed his forehead against yours.
“That was way too close,” he complained.
“But worth it,” you hummed. “C’mon. Now it’s your turn.”
Eyes still half-clouded with sex, you struggled for a few seconds to find his zipper. As soon as you’d started to pull it down, Emmett stopped you.
“We’ve barely survived the last hour,” he scoffed. “And now you want me to fuck you?”
“I was just gonna jerk you off,” you lied. “But hey. If you want…”
Emmett’s face turned bright red as he realized the corner he’d been backed into. 
“Come on - you weren’t complaining two seconds ago,” you teased. “Well, I mean, you were. But you seemed into it.”
Emmett sighed, but his shoulders stiffened as you reached past his zipper and took hold of him. He was definitely still into it.
You slid off the table but stayed pressed against it, leaning back slightly as you pulled him out and pressed his head flush to your core. He slipped in easily, already slick with your arousal and unable to resist the pull of your body.
You sighed, and that was enough to make Emmett grab hold of you again, burying himself all the way in with one thrust.
The shock of it was sudden, but you quickly recovered and pulled him in closer, greedily pressing him as far as he could go.
“This is exactly what I’ve wanted,” you hummed, smiling contentedly.
Emmett’s only response was a grunt, as he pushed deeply into you again, dragging his hips back before snapping forward. His hands were holding onto your arms, keeping you steady against the sharp edge of the table. Both of you hung onto each other for dear life.
“Goddamn distracting…” Emmett muttered. It sounded like only part of a sentence, but you didn’t catch the rest. Too wrapped up in the way he was filling you.
Without warning, he pulled all the way out. He flipped you around, bracing your palms against the table, and then sank back in. You felt your walls tighten around him as you moaned, a little louder.
Fingers splayed over the grain of the wood, you clawed at the table as Emmett pummeled into you, picking up speed to match the erratic beat of your heart. Your eyes screwed shut, chasing the pleasure that steadily built in your stomach.
“Shit. I’m gonna come again,” you gasped, already feeling the waves wash over you.
From behind, Emmett’s hand reached around to slap over your mouth, one more time, pulling your head back a little as he continued to rut into you. You made a muffled sound of protest, but he kept going.
You didn’t have long to concern yourself with comfort, as you were quickly overtaken by pleasure. You let yourself give in; surrendering to the feeling that coursed through you, and the way that his hips never stopped snapping up to meet yours, and the rough palm he held over your mouth. Which was fortunate, actually, because without Emmett’s hand stifling your sounds, they almost certainly would have gotten you both killed.
“Mmmf!”
You tried and failed to bite back the cry that threatened to erupt, only halted by Emmett as he succeeded in keeping his hand steady. 
But it was clear he was close behind you. His hips bucked up with far less precision than they had a few minutes ago, and you could feel him tear out at the very last second, leaving you empty.
“Mmm!”
You cried again as you felt Emmett bite down, his mouth clamped onto your shoulder as he came, stifling his own desperate growl. His cum went not into you but all over you, coating the inside of your legs before he could stop himself. Emmett had clearly waited slightly too long to pull out. 
The soft grunt that vibrated through his teeth sent a shiver down your whole body, followed by another as he rubbed himself into the mess that was now dripping between your legs. Chasing the feel of your combined lust and the friction of your thighs.
“Self control, huh?” you goaded, once he had finally pulled his hand off of your mouth.
“More than you.”
Emmett’s rough voice was right in your ear, and you felt his chest press into your back, breathing heavy to make up for lost air.
“Well,” you said, a bit breathless yourself. “I guess we’ll just have to see about that.”
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Taglist: @cillmequick, @hanawrites404, @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch, @littlewinter1917, @mothhball, @nnattu, @red-riding-wood, @slut4thebroken
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slut4thebroken · 9 days
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Ultimatum
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | stepdad!Emmett x reader
Summary | Your stepdad has made a habit of using you as stress relief. When you try to deny him, he gives you a choice.
Warnings | Smut, dub con, technically incest, very large age gap, manipulation, blackmail?, breeding, daddy kink, I need therapy.
Words | 1.4 k
Notes | I don’t think I’ve ever seen stepdad!Emmett smut and that is a crime. Also I can’t stop writing him + forced breeding🫣
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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You groaned quietly when you started to wake up, confused about what you were currently feeling until you realized it was hands on your waist and lips on your neck. 
“Emmett… please. I’m tired.” You whined, just wanting to go back to sleep. 
“I know. I’ll be quick.” He whispered, kissing down to your collarbone. 
“Emmett..” You tried again, just barely attempting to squirm away from him. “I’m tired,” He pulled back and the look on his face made you nervous. 
“Tired from what exactly? Because I know it’s not from getting food and supplies or setting up traps.” You frowned a little— it’s not like he even lets you leave here… “So be a good little girl, keep your fucking mouth shut, and let daddy use you to get off, okay?” You blushed and looked away from him. You don’t really like when he calls himself that. Sure he’s your step dad, but he’s only been your step dad for like two years and you’re already 18. Of course you only call him Emmett, much to his displeasure. 
Once he was satisfied with your obedience, he pushed up the large shirt he gave you to wear, exposing your panties. He resumed kissing down your chest until he reached your breasts. You tried not to gasp too loud when he took your nipple in his mouth and slipped his hand below the fabric of your panties. He suckled on the hardened bud gently as his fingers started rubbing slow circles on your clit. 
“I don’t know why I still keep you around. You’re just one extra mouth I have to feed, one extra body I have to protect— and you can’t even do something as simple as helping me relax.” He said bitterly, making you pout. “Maybe I will get rid of you.” He threatened, moving to your other nipple to suck it into his mouth. 
“No…” You whined, feeling tears prick your eyes at the thought of having to survive like this on your own. “I’m sorry, Emmett.” 
“I keep you safe, treat you like my own fucking daughter, and yet you still call me Emmett.” He spat, almost viciously. 
“I’m sorry,”
“No. Say it.” He ordered, making you blush and look away. When he noticed, he leaned back up over your face and roughly grabbed your cheeks with one hand to turn you back to him. “Say it or I swear to god, I’ll get myself off with your cunt and then kick you out for good.” He growled and you let out a choked sob, not used to this behavior from him. 
“I’m sorry— I…” You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head, not wanting to say it. You’re 18 for fucks sake. Even if he was your real dad, it’d still be weird as hell for you to call him that. His hand suddenly wrapped around your throat tightly, making your eyes open again. 
“Fine. You’re not gonna say it?” You let out a strangled whimper, staring up at him with teary eyes, silently begging him not to make you. Once he knew what your answer was, he reached down between your bodies and freed his cock before pulling your panties to the side and lining up. In one quick thrust he was fully sheathing his cock inside you. The pain made you cry out, but his hand was covering your mouth before the loud noise could escape. He groaned quietly and immediately started rutting into you, ignoring your muffled sobs and the way you tried to push his hips away to get a break from the painful stretch. 
“Before I get rid of you for good… I’m gonna do what I’ve been craving since I first got to feel your tight little cunt.” He gruffed. Once you realized what he meant, your eyes widened and for a moment you were completely frozen in shock. 
“No!” You tried to yell, but it was incoherent behind his hand. 
“I’m gonna fill you up again and again until I drain my balls completely, then I’ll send you off with my come dripping down your thighs.” You clawed at his hand and wrist, trying to pull his hand away so you could beg him not to. “Oh, now you have something to say?” He asked sarcastically, but you nodded anyway. The second his hand was gone, you were begging. 
“Please… please, I- I’m sorry. I’ll be good— I won’t complain, I’ll call you… that.” You said with a blush. “Just please pull out. Please don’t make me leave.” You whimpered. His thrusts got even rougher, pounding you so hard that you had to cling to his shoulders and bite down hard on your lip so you didn’t scream. 
“It’s just not worth the hassle anymore, kid.” He shrugged solemnly and you let out an almost violent sob in response. 
“Please! D-daddy, please…” You whimpered brokenly, making him groan. 
“Say it again. Tell me what you want.” He gruffed, rutting into your more desperately as he chased his orgasm. 
“I want to stay with you, daddy…” You cried. “Please let me stay— I’ll be good, I promise.” 
“Yeah? You want me to keep you safe?” He cooed, brushing some of your hair out of your face before cupping your cheek. You nodded, staring up at him with wide, glossy eyes as your bottom lip trembled. “Okay, you can stay with me, baby.” He said softly. 
“Thank you!” You could almost cry in relief. 
“But,” he said, quickly getting rid of all that relief, “this isn’t enough for me anymore. Doing all of this to keep you safe and healthy isn’t worth only coming in your mouth or on your body… If you really want me to keep you around, then no more pulling out. I come in your cunt or you leave for good.” 
“But, I— I’ll get…” You whimpered, voice barely audible. 
“I know. But having some kids will be good for you. It’ll give you something to do while I’m gone during the day.” He smiled, slowing his thrusts into a gentle rocking motion, but all you could focus on was what he said; kids. Plural. As in more than one. 
“Please,” you begged quietly, “I- I’m not ready for that… I’m only 18.” 
“Almost 19.” He corrected teasingly. “You’re going to make a great mommy, I already know it… But if you’re not ready, I’m not going to force you. There’s still another option.” Technically there’s another option, but it’s literally just death… “Better choose quickly, I’m getting close.” His thrusts sped up again as he focused on his impending orgasm, savoring the sounds his brutality was forcing out of you. 
“If you don’t choose, then you’ll be leaving here pregnant and you won’t be coming back.” He warned and you let out a loud sob as you cried. He cooed and cupped your cheek, but you heard the way his moans started to get louder. You can’t get pregnant… Not this young, not with all of the hospitals closed, not without a doctor— it’s just too dangerous… But not as dangerous as being alone and defenseless out there. 
“I.. I want to stay.” You croaked, staring up at his face that was blurry from your tears. 
“You know what I want to hear.” He said softly, but his thrusts contradicted his tone with the way he started rutting into you more frantically. 
“Please let me stay, daddy.” He raised his brows, silently telling you to continue. “I- I want your baby.” You whispered, bottom lip trembling as you cried silently. “I want you to— to get me pregnant, daddy.” You cried and he gave you a proud smile. 
“Good girl… You’re such a good girl.” He cooed, leaning down to kiss you as his thrusts got even harder. Without any warning, he forced his cock in as deep as it could go with a loud groan. His head dropped down into the crook of your neck as his hips bucked weakly, riding out his orgasm. The feeling of his breath on your neck as he panted and grunted quietly had you shivering, a new wave of tears rolling through you. 
When his body finally relaxed, you were completely frozen beneath him, unable to process what just happened. After another moment, he pulled back to look at you with a small smile before rolling you both over so you were on top of him. He hugged you close to his body, his cock keeping you plugged up as he got ready to fall asleep. 
“I’ll keep you safe.” He whispered, snaking his hand down to rub at your lower belly. “You and our babies.”
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beastofburdenxo · 4 months
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Hypothermia
Emmett shares a bed with you on a particularly cold night. 1.6k words Tags: dry humping, wet dreams, reader is a virgin.
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Emmett promised your parents that he would take care of you if anything happened to them. Not realizing that, not long after he promised them that the creatures would come. Sadly, neither survived and you were stuck with Emmett. Nothing against him of course, he was an alright guy. He was a family friend; someone you saw all the time at the house on the weekends. He was quiet, reserved, resourceful. Emmett also lost his family not long after yours so you two were all each other had. You two toughed it out together, he taught you how to hunt. He taught you which plants were edible, and which were not. You taught him how to patch up his clothes when needed. The both of you were a team, working together to stay alive.  
Instead of moving out and going to college, you moved what little belongings you could to an old factory on the outskirts of town with Emmett. He found it on a supply run without you and thought it best to move away and stay hidden from the creatures. Besides, there wasn’t much left to salvage anyways, what you two haven’t already scavenged to use was in disrepair and too time consuming to try and fix. Emmett was a bit of a loner anyways, so moving away from the few remaining living souls didn’t bother him a bit. Not you though, you didn’t like the idea of leaving the only home you ever knew. But you went ahead and did anyways, because you knew you couldn’t make it without him. You two made the basement of the old factory your home, considering it was almost soundproof. Emmett brought down a mattress he found in an empty house to sleep on, not realizing it was going to be a tight fit for both of you. During the summer, he refused the makeshift bed, insisting you take it. He crafted a pallet out of old covers and towels that he slept on next to yours.  
One particularly cold winter night, you lie in bed, feeling your fingers and toes start to turn blue. Every piece of clothing you own is on your body on top of what little covers you have, but it’s still not enough. With teeth chattering, you look over at Emmett’s still figure wondering if he’s about to go into hypothermia as well. “Emmett,” you whisper in the dark, “Are you sleeping? It's so cold in here my body hurts.” Emmett turns towards you, “No, I can’t sleep either. It's an awfully bad night tonight. Would you like some of my covers?” A shiver runs through your body as you try to still your chattering teeth. “I don’t think that’s going to cut it here Emmett, we both need body heat or we’re not going to survive the night. Will you come closer?” A long pause sits in the air before you get an answer. “Are you asking me to get in bed with you? You trying to cuddle?” he asks with a chuckle. “This is serious, if you don’t get over here, we’re both going to freeze to death. It's not like I have anyone else to choose from. I'll behave, I’m just trying to not die tonight.”  
You feel a bit more weight on you as Emmett takes the covers off his pallet and throws it on yours. Before you can plead with him, he lies down beside you. “Alright, here I am, now go to sleep.” It is a tight fit with him beside you, both being on your backs, so you turn to the side away from him to make room. The heat radiating off Emmett’s body helps, but it’s not enough to knock the chill off your body. You try and scoot closer to him, much to his dismay. “Just what do you think you're doing? You wanted me here, so here I am. What more do you want?” You start to feel him move away. “No please don’t go.” you whine, “I’m just so cold and I know you are too. Please come here. Wrap your arm around me Emmett.” With a sigh he replies, “Only because it feels below zero tonight. Don't get any ideas here.” He pulls you closer to him, his body heat enveloping you. He has both of his strong arms around your waist as the two of you stop shivering. “Now was that so bad?” you ask. You get a scoff in response. You feel him move around. “What are you doing? I can’t sleep with you thrashing!”  
“I’m taking my shirt off.” Your eyes get big at his words. “Why in the hell are you doing that?” Emmett sighs, “Did I teach you anything? Survival 101, skin on skin contact is the best against hypothermia. It's dark and neither of us can see the other, so just do it.” With a gulp you shakily remove your shirt, goosebumps hitting your skin at the thought of being next to him in your bra. This is all new to you and you’re trying to remain calm and adult like about it. “My pants too?” you nervously ask. Emmett’s strong arms go back to being around you. “That’s up to you. Considering the layers are thin, I think we’ll be fine like this. Now let's get some sleep.” He was right about the skin-on-skin contact, it was almost too warm now. You were able to feel his broad chest directly on your back, his light coating of chest hair tickling your skin. Part of you wanted to turn around and face him, but you didn’t want him to leave either, so you stayed where you were. Your little heart was pounding, you’ve never had a man be this physically close to you, much less Emmett. You hoped he was too far gone in sleep to notice. “Just breathe, you know Emmett, he wouldn’t hurt you.” you tell yourself over and over until your breathing finally slows and sleep takes you in its hold.  
In the middle of the night, you awaken to Emmett still holding you to him. But this time, something is different. One arm is still around you, the other is next to you, his hand squeezing your hip. Something is also digging into your back. You move slightly trying to get comfortable, and Emmett softly moans. You realize what it is, Emmett is hard in his sleep. Trying not to panic and wake him up, you wonder what to do now. If he wakes, he’ll freak out at the situation and possibly get mad, so you just lie there for a bit. “It’s not like he did it on purpose, he’s dead asleep!” you think to yourself, “He has no control over his body, it’ll go away, just chill out!” at that moment, Emmett slightly moves, pulling you even closer to him, his dick even more prominent to you now. The hand on your hip now slowly strokes your side. His breath is still slow and labored, he’s still out cold. Emmett slowly starts to grind against you, the friction pulling down your loose pants, exposing your ass to him. His face is buried in your shoulder, panting heavy at his motions. You try to reach behind you to pull your pants back up, but there’s no room between you two, and you wind up touching his toned stomach instead. You freeze as a whine leaves his mouth, thinking you woke him up.  
Luckily for you, he’s a heavy sleeper and he goes back to dry humping you as you take your hand back. You must admit, it doesn’t feel terrible. “Do I just lie here and let him grind on me?” You like hearing his moans too, but you’d never admit that. You wish you could see the look on his face right now, but not daring to turn. His hand comes up and cups your breast through your bra, softly squeezing. “Yes,” he breathes into your ear, “Yes baby like that.” You close your eyes and pretend that he means that, that he knows it’s you and he really wants you; not pretending that you’re someone else. You softly place your hand on top of Emmett’s, not brave enough to do much else. “Babygirl, yes, right there, please.” That causes a moan to come out of your own mouth. Goosebumps return to your skin, but for another reason. Nerves be damned, you can’t take much more. You take the hand on your bra and slowly guide it downwards, reveling in his rough hand on your body and how good it feels. Reaching your soaked panties you wonder, “Am I seriously about to do this? Am I going to take advantage of a man that has been nothing but good and kind to me?”  
Before you can answer yourself, Emmett moves again. His bodyweight on yours makes you turn over on your stomach. He is directly on top of you now. With your legs slightly more open than before, you can feel him right where you want him. Now Emmett is just rutting against you without abandon, each motion moving your panties against your clit. It takes all you have in you to not answer his moans with your own. Right before you feel like you could come for the first time ever, he growls your name as you feel hot liquid seep onto your panties. Emmett slows, his high receding, softly panting as he moves off you, flopping onto his back. Your mind is reeling, “Did he just say my name as he came? Did I hear that right?” You slowly look over at him, for some reason expecting him to finally be awake after all that. But his breathing is the same as earlier, slow and soft in dreamland. “Well at least he’ll sleep good tonight, I sure as hell won’t.” You curl back up, parts of you demanding more attention after being rudely interrupted. It was a long night for you indeed.
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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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ssweetleaf · 2 months
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please please please, send me some asks!! wanna write about cillian’s characters so bad :(
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who i write for <3
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