#A quiet place Part II

[august-diehl]

CILLIAN MURPHY as Emmett in A Quiet Place Part II (2020) | dir. John Krasinski

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

PRINCESSES DON’T ACT LIKE THIS

Pairing - Emmett x fem!reader

Summary - Emmett stumbles across your cam account and has contradicting thoughts on it. He’s angered that you’re doing it but can’t help but to watch it in secret. Until he gets a notification when you’re visiting home that spikes his emotions and primal needs.

Warnings - Dubcon, pervert step dad, daddy kink, webcam sex, p in v, oral m! receiving, degrading.

Word count - 2.4k

It was all because you foolishly forgot to log out of your email account on the computer. 

Emmett’s eyebrowed scrunched as a particular email caught his eye as he finger hovered over the logout button. A receipt to your bank account from a website called CamLust. His skepticism grew as he hovered over the link and pressed it. A heavy gasp left his lips as he saw a sweet photo of you to your camgirl account. 

2SexyPrincessOnCam. 

It made his blood boil. Emmett’s little princess, fucking whoring herself around to pervy strangers. Emmett grunted when he saw that he needed to make an account to take a peek at your full account. He had never felt this way about you before, but now he felt like he had been missing out on so much of you. In a clumsy manner, he rushed to make an account and huffed at your sneak peaks. You were clothed, hardly. In the majority of your pics, you wore matching lingerie sets of pastel colors. Always on your knees, mouth ajar open, wide eyes. 

His eyes widened when he heard the door open and quickly shut down the computer. 

“Daddy?” You called out sweetly as you walked inside, smiling gleefully to him. 

Emmett only grunted his greeting and stormed off to his room, too infuriated to look at you. But also too hard to be in close radius of you, he feared he’d act animalistically. So with the door locked, he easily caved into his primal needs and completely forgot about his morality. As he jerked off to the thought of you, he whined to the guilt of it all. Yes, you were an adult, but hardly so. But you weren’t actually his daughter. 

Was this all of a result of your mother abandoning you both? Emmett thought he was doing a good job, raising his ex wife’s daughter. Your mother ran away a few years ago with a younger man, she had no shame in abandoning you, her only daughter. Unfortunately Emmett had to pick up your broken pieces and his own and try his best to fix you. But you were an adult now and completely capable of making your own decisions. 

You were in community college now, just under an hour's drive from home. Even though you stayed on campus, you liked to catch the train down to see Emmett most weekends. He had become a lonely man since your mother left and you hated the thought of him being all by himself most days. 

But he avoided you for the remainder of the weekend and you couldn’t help but to be overwhelmed that you had done something to upset him. You left with a stiff hug, his nostrils flaring as you held onto him. 

Emmett grunted out, your live stream on the computer with his throbbing lube coated cock in his right hand. Over the webcam, you touched yourself in the shower. Yes, he had subscribed to your account. Because he just wanted to make sure you were okay. It had been a couple of weeks now, and it infuriated him with how frequent you went live. 

DaddyE - Such pretty tits princess.

You smiled seductively at the notification of his tip and your hands slowly ran up to your soapy breasts. “Want a private show?” You teased, your fingertips running circles around your nipples. 

Emmett coughed as he slowly typed his response, his strokes slowly down. 

DaddyE - Of course princess. 

The next day, you smiled seductively as the call connected. The opposing screen was turned off, it was typical for that to occur. “Hi daddy…” You greeted slowly, your tongue rolling over your teeth. “I’ve noticed your tips for a couple of weeks” you continued on, your hands slowly trailing over your baby pink bralette. Already, you had no panties on. Dirty whore.  

DaddyE - I want to spoil my princess.

“No mic?” You cocked an eyebrow.

DaddyE - No princess, not today. 

Emmette couldn’t risk you recognising his voice, even though there was nothing more that he wanted to do besides moan in climax together. As he slowly stroked himself, he breathed in and out in a heavy manner. Because even though he knew he had you all to himself right now, you didn’t know that. All you knew was that he was a fucking creep jerking off to your pretty tits. 

“What do you want me to do for you Daddy?” You asked softly, leaning closer to the camera. 

Slowly, Emmett typed out his command.  

DaddyE - Fuck yourself with that pretty pink vibrator of yours and beg me to take care of you

You giggled and picked up the pink vibrator and laid back on the bed, your lower body in complete view as you spread your thighs. A little moan of shock escaped your lips as you felt the vibrations run up your bundle of nerves. Gently your hips rocked in rhythm as you kept your eyes on the webcam. 

“Daddy… Please Daddy… Please look after me as I squeeze around your cock” you moaned out, biting onto your lower lip. 

As the level increased, so did your moans. Your hips rotated in the most graceful ways as you constantly licked your lips and batted your eyes to him. Even over the camera, Emmett could see how fucking soaked you were, he predicted that he’d be able to slip completely in. He scratched at his rough beard, the beard that he grew too lazily to shave ever since your mother left. 

At his order, you begged him to fuck you hard, to kiss every inch of your skin and to let you finish. The detail was painted beautiful as you told him how badly you wanted to feel him, completely inside of you. Of how you’d do anything to get a taste of his cock. As you reached the edge of climax, your eyes started to roll back. 

“Please take care of me Emm-” you abruptly stop yourself, a flash of fear crossed your expression as the vibrator slipped from your hand. 

Emmett’s hand squeezed his cock in shock. Did he hear that correctly? He leant forward in his seat and quickly smacked his fingers onto the keyboard. 

DaddyE - What was that princess?

But you quickly shifted the conversation. If Emmett wasn’t so fucking horny he would have demanded an answer. Swiftly after, the pair of you came in unison and you were more than eager to end the call. 

A couple of weeks later, you were staying over for the weekend and Emmett’s new behavior towards you remained the same. Distant and cold. But at the end of every night, Emmett felt bad for his sudden shift towards you. It wasn’t your fault, well not directly. A part of him wishes he never went through your emails. But nowadays Emmett was too afraid to be near you, he felt like a dog on a loose chain. 

Emmett crept inside, it was late and he still didn’t want to wake you. It was a coworker's birthday and he’d prefer to be out of the house instead of longing for you. So he spent the past couple of hours drinking cheap beer in the local bar, his thoughts contaminated with you. However, as he reached his room, he pulled his phone from his pocket and frowned at his recent notification. 

2sexyPrincessOnCam is now live. 

Did you leave back for campus early? Without saying goodbye to him… Oh not like he’d even give you a warm farewell.  He opened up the app on his phone, your naked body wasn’t what first caught your attention. Emmett frowned at the all too familiar cream wallpaper in the background. Followed by the cottage bed frame that he brought. 

That’s his last straw. 

As the huff ran up his chest like a dragon expelling fire, he strided to your bedroom, his body, soul and mind completely fueled by raging jealousy. The door swung open in a snap and you slammed your laptop shut just as quickly, so suddenly with force that the screen cracked. He stood in the doorway, his body twitching from anger as his teeth gritted together. 

“Daddy” you whimpered, already hiding under the blanket which you pulled up to your chest in an attempt to hide your exposed body. 

“In my own fucking home” he growled as he stepped heavily towards you, it made you pull the blanket up to your chin like a frightened animal. “In the fucking bed that I brought you” he lectured, closing the distance in, his fists balled.

“Em-”

“No… Daddy” he corrected you in a stern manner, pointing his finger at you. 

You were his, and it was time he made sure you knew that. Enough of these games, enough of his despair. It was time he taught his princess her place in his world. 

“Daddy… M’sorry” you whimpered, your lower lip trembled as your eyes watered. 

Looking at your frightened state, he couldn’t help but to feel a wave of guilt crash over him. You just looked so helpless right now. As Emmett exhaled, he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand gently tugging against your hold of the blanket. 

“What are you sorry for princess?” His voice had lowered. 

The anger in his tone had softened as his eyes lingered over your bare shoulders. The blanket was still covering your chest, your shaking hands refusing to let it lower anymore. Your eyes darted around the room anxiously as he stared at you sternly. 

“For being a dirty little whore under my roof?” Emmett continued, his head tilted as he patiently waited for you to answer him. 

“Yes daddy!” You whined out, your expression full of complete embarrassment.

You blubbered out as your body curled under the sheets. To comfort you, Emmett rubbed your flustered cheek slowly. For a few minutes, he let you cry out your shameful behavior, emotions and thoughts. 

“My naughty princess…” Emmett tutted as your tears slowed down, his fingers tugged against your hold more sternly. 

“W-what are you doing?” You whimpered out as he forcefully yanked the blanket down, your tits exposed to him.

When you went to cover yourself with your arms, Emmett clicked his tongue and raised his finger in warning. As if his blue eyes were glued onto your breasts, he thought deeply as his tongue rolled over his lips. Under his dark stare, you were frozen in the bed, the only movements of your body was how hard you were gulping and your skin trembling. Abruptly, Emmett stood up, his hand combing through his hair. 

“Come on, show me how you do it” Emmett demanded, his hips flexing towards your head. 

“W-what?” You stammered, your eyes shifting from his face to his tent in his jeans. 

“Show me how you please cock princess” Emmett clarified as he took off his belt. 

“Daddy?” You asked unsurely, fresh tears dripping down your cheeks. Suddenly, he leant down to you, your faces inches apart. 

“Yes, Daddy” Emmett praised in a condescending manner, tapping your cheek harshly. “Come on, where’s that dirty girl that I’ve been watching?” he cooed causing your eyes to widen fully. His straight posture returned as he pushed his jeans down to his knees.   

He squeezed his bulge in his boxer as he shuffled as close to your face as he could. Hesitantly, you straightened your back and your hand trembled over his lower stomach, underneath his worn out shirt. He smiled at your timidness, the little princess he knew. 

Your eyes kept on shooting up to him, afraid you’d make a mistake. Gradually, your hand rubbed against his clothed cock, followed by you tugging his boxers down. His hairy cock sprung out, almost whacking your cheek in the process. You gulped at his massive size and Emmett lightly gulped at the remembrance of his lack of grooming. But oh well, he could shave for you later. 

There was no denying the initial moan as you wrapped your hands around the base. Emmett’s eyes fluttered as you slid onto your knees on the mattress and took him into your mouth. 

“My naughty princess” Emmett groaned, his hands massaging your scalp as he encouraged you to take him deeper. “Princesses don’t act this way, I should really be calling you a dirty whore” he spat, thrusting his tip to the back of your throat.   

You gurgled around his thick member, struggling to hold your balance on the soft grounding. When your scared eyes raised up to him, he smiled at you. 

“Want me to call you a whore from now on?” He smirked, slipping his cock out of your mouth. 

“No Daddy!” You cried out as he flipped you onto your back, the impact took your breath away momentarily. 

Quickly, Emmett pulled his shirt up from over his head and kicked off his boots. After he took off his jeans and boxers, he pounced on top of you animalistically. His lips attacked your neck and chest like a starved beast. 

“Then no more shows for perverts aye?” He questioned, but by the tone you knew it was a demand. 

“Yes Daddy!” You agreed, your walls clenching as Emmett humped his hips against yours. 

The mixture of his moans with your whines was music to his ears. The way your limbs flinched whenever he touched an uncharted area of your skin made his cock twitch like a headless chook. When the head of his cock rubbed against your entrance, he growled like a wolf at how soaked you were. 

As he lined up his size without your verbal consent, he pressed his lips to your jaw. “If you needed money, you should have come to me” he sighed, slowly sliding his tip into your tight cunt. 

“I’m sorry Daddy! I didn’t- I didn’t-” You stammered out, your heart pounding in your chest. 

The thoughts were clear in your head but the words were coming out as mush. Emmett chuckled and gradually pushed himself in until he was completely buried inside of you. Both of your bodies relaxed momentarily. As your body surrendered to him by your legs wrapping around his waist, he took your hands and pinned them above your heads. 

“Pure intention, but poor execution aye?” He commented, slowly thrusting himself in and out of you. You whined, the reaction of a mixture of your thoughts and natural responses. 

“Yes Daddy! I didn’t-” you’re cut off by Emmett suddenly smacking your rear. 

“Hush… We’ll talk about it later, alright princess?” He decided. Your mouth wobbled, uncertain of what would be in store for you. He picked up on your expression and sighed.  “Don’t worry, Daddy’s going to take great care of you” he assured, kissing you passionately. 

When the kiss broke but his vicious pumps continued on, the both of you were panting. 

“I love you Daddy” you confessed through teary eyes. 

“I love you too princess” he hissed out, rubbing his forehead against yours.

[affectionatecorpse]

I'm once again getting overly philosophical over horror movies, so here's a study of the death angels from A Quiet Place as observed by a very enthusiastic animal loving veterinarian.

Every time people talk about death angels, it is, understandably, about how violent they are. These creatures are brutal and merciless, and will tear apart anything that makes too much noise. Hence the title of the movie.

Death angels are frankly terrifying, and show no empathy towards the creatures of the planet they invaded. No living thing is safe from them.

... so here's why they COULD be--

Look. Death angels are simply not suited for our planet. It's a noisy, chaotic place full of noisy, chaotic animals. From humans, to raccoons, to birds, to cats, nearly everything in our world is a potential trigger for a noise sensitive animal such as these.

But that's exactly what they are. Animals. And no one seems to remember that fact. People talk about them as though they themselves are sentient, anthropomorphic monsters, but the way these creatures act mimic many real life animals. Animals that don't belong here, but are trying to survive here. On a noisy planet covered in water, which they despise and cannot swim in.

Death angels are completely blind by nature, as seen in many other creatures such as cavefish, moles, and my personal favourite, the olm. Due to a lack of sight, they very clearly use echolocation in the film, to scan their surroundings and... well, not get dead. But echolocation is far from their only tool, as their ears are the strongest asset they have.

Their ears are INCREDIBLY sensitive. Just the slight ticking of an egg timer when heard from their perspective in the first film, is like a pounding drum in their ear. This is fine in a naturally quiet planet, but if a very subtle tick is that loud, then imagine the rest of the noise. Screaming. Explosions. Crashing. Little toy planes. Holy CRAP, that's gotta hurt.

Sounds that loud would definitely cause extreme hearing problems from pressure over time, and easily result in lifelong illnesses and disabilities such as deafness, infection, and so forth, if not stopped. It's going to be painful. It's literally bursting their ear drums inside their heads, and you can't explain to an animal why it hurts. You cannot rationalise with wildlife about treatment and self care. An injured and scared animal is always going to turn hostile, no matter how docile they may be normally. You can't explain to a lion with a knife in it's belly that you can stop the pain if it just doesn't attack you. You can't explain to a death angel that it needs to go somewhere more isolated instead of just destroying the source of the noise to shut it up.

Going to backtrack here a sec. Remember how I mentioned echolocation being another asset this creature has? Which means the slightest movement, the tiniest breath, can immediately allow you to be seen by it. With ears that good, too? It can see you from ages away. It knows you're there. Which means they DON'T attack for sport.

'Evil' is a concept rarely seen in nature. Yes, a lot of humans can be evil. And yes, many creatures can be too. Animals hunt for sport as well. Cats, for example! Although even then, I wouldn't describe it as evil. Calling the death angels evil implies they're attacking out of malicious intent, which just isn't true. In moments of panic, they'll destroy. But they are fully aware of humans around them.

Humans need to breathe, and can't stay perfectly still very easily. The death angels would be able to see our main cast at several points, even when they're being quiet. They don't attack whenever they locate a sign of life. For example, the scene in the basement. Being that close, whether the water was running or not, that alien absolutely would've heard Evelyn and the baby's sharp breaths. It didn't care. It was clicking at them almost curiously before it heard the bang of the silo, to which it ditched them to stop the sound.

This scene is a great example of why they don't kill for sport. Injured and young animals are especially easy prey for a creature built so strong and nimble. Evelyn is shown to be terrified of the mere presence of this thing, but it never actually does anything in the scene. It moves about. Ignores her movements in the flooding water. Investigates the baby. Clicks curiously at her while she backs away. It moves slowly and on all fours, when we know while aggressive, they will stand up on their hind legs (unless sprinting) and move very fast.

This implies it was in... well, not a submissive position, but a nonthreatening one. It wasn't baring it's teeth (as best it could), it had it's claws tucked up and unused, and was in no way in a primed-to-attack mentality. Until the silo made a loud bang. And even then, it could've quickly sliced up the two in the basement before running off, but it DIDN'T. It just left, without a moment of hesitation.

Let's also acknowledge the anatomy.

This is a carnivore. With sharp teeth for ripping apart prey, sharp claws for defence, and thick armour for protection from it's natural climate, as well as strong, long legs for running, this is absolutely a meat eater. The fact it's so well equipped makes me wonder if their natural prey is just as dangerous as them, which is why they have such tough skin. Or if they themselves have something above them in the food chain.

They seem to be pack animals, as usually others aren't far behind when one is about. Such as the trio by the Abbott house, the few at the docks, the ones by Emet's hideout, and even that group sliding down the building in the Day One clip I keep seeing as a gif. With their knack for running included, I wonder if they function like lions? Blending into their environment back home, clicking to hear prey, then the whole pack going on the chase when their target is vulnerable, in a way.

I got distracted. My point was, in a year, all the bodies from past victims vanished. All those people in the town who were swiped left and right just vanished from the town. They couldn't have decomposed in such short time, which means something moved them when it was safe. Something like a carnivore needing food after it felt comfortable in the silent aftermath. The argument that they do it for sport is one I see all the time, and it's just not true.

Everything needs to eat. Carnivores need to eat. Animals need to protect themselves from suspected danger. They never eat on screen because whenever they're on screen, they're surrounded by noise and are DISTRESSED. Have you ever had a sick pet? Most of the time, it won't eat when it's ill because it's too stressed, uncomfortable or in too much pain. When having their ear drums assaulted, a death angel isn't going to sit down with a cup of tea and a grilled cheese. Also, I won't add it because there's blood, but in the scene with the old man screaming in the woods, after it attacks, you can actually see it go back on all fours and sniff about the aftermath, like a hungry predator catching prey to eat. This was probably the first and currently only on screen proof of my claim.

By all means, not all animals are meant to be tamed. Jordan Peele's Nope said that best. Yet I can't help but wonder about the individual. Every animal is completely unique. Some will tolerate more than others. Due to their realistic nature and the similarities to actual animals, in specific circumstances, could they be befriended?

Anyway keep an eye out for A Quiet Place 4 where someone has a pet one that wears doggy ear protectors and accepts meat in exchange for pets-- /j

[alethianightsong]

A Quiet Place: disability at the end of the world (I am still reeling from this movie)

Ok so like many apocalypses ignore what happens to the disabled or infirm during apocalypses and just have the main cast all healthy and able-bodied. Even FUCKING World War Z(where sick people were left alone by the infected) just ignored that aspect. Yes, someone will get temporarily sick/wounded or pregnant but I mean a lifelong handicap. A Quiet Place had a deaf girl in a world where making sound gets you killed. However, the sign language her family learned for her sake allowed them to communicate and bond in a silent world.

Now on to Day One. When Eric finds out Sam needs meds to handle the pain caused by her terminal illness, he doesn't ditch her. He doesn't go "you're an invalid, you're weak, I'm abandoning you to increase my own chances at survival." So many apocalypses push the Darwinian idea of "survival of the fittest" but the unique nature of the Quiet Place means that it doesn't matter how strong or ruthless you are if you don't know how to shut the fuck up. Later, when Sam is left incapacitated in the church from her pain, this would've been a prime time for a lesser writer to have Eric leave Sam a little note saying "Sorry, but you're dying so I'm outie bye" but nope! guy risks his life to make sure she gets her meds, comforts her, lifts her spirits when she's at the end of the world, her life, and just wants to experience the simply joy of a pizza.

On to Eric. Once again, a lesser film would make him a coward or unlikable. He's a white-collar worker (a bloodsucking lawyer-in-training) who couldn't build a fire or survive the rugged wilderness but they're in the city so food is everywhere just be quiet getting it. He just survived drowning in the flooding subway but goes back down cuz his new friend wants her maybe-last meal to be from her favorite place. Sam is not a liability to him. She's not a burden but a person trying to maneuver through disaster in her own way just like him. Some anthropologist somewhere said that civilization didn't really start until people started looking after each other, when healed bones were found cuz that meant someone cared for this person while they were weak. In the end, Eric's empathy & kindness secured his own survival.

[filmreel]

A QUIET PLACE PART II (2020) dir. John Krasinski

[elssbethtascioni]

FILMS WATCHED IN 2024 A Quiet Place Part II (2020) dir. John Krasinski

[cillmurphyslover]

Emmett 🫶🏻

[idksmtms]

Cillian Murphy Masterlist

Cillian Murphy

Oneshots

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Series

Year Abroad - (Cillian Murphy x younger!reader) - coming soon

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evermore series

1. willow 8. dorothea 12. long story short

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You may not have been the best ballerina in the company, but you worked hard. Ok maybe the last couple of weeks weren't the best evidence for this but in your defence, there's a lot going on in your life! And maybe Mr. Murphy doesn't appreciate lazy, slacking, ballerinas...

Emmett - A Quiet Place Part II

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Who cares about propriety? Everything is gone.

Tommy Shelby - Peaky Blinders

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After Grace shoots Detective Campbell and runs away, Tommy ends up marrying you to further Shelby Company LTD. He doesn't expect life with you to be as amazing as it is. Nor does he expect Grace to return...

Jonathan Crane - Batman Begins

(Coming soon)

Raymond Leon - In Time

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Robert Fischer - Inception

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Jim - The Delinquent Season

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Lenny Miller - ANNA

(Coming soon)

[rogerdeakinsdp]

Cillian Murphy + favorite music moments

happy birthday, Robin! (@madeline-kahn)

[cillianhead]

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

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.

-

[pedropascallme]

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.

[shoogachi]

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

THRISTY?

KINKTOBER DAY 19 - SPIT WITH EMMETT

Pairing.| Emmett x fem!reader

Summary.| You’re exhausted and Emmett just won’t stop. He notices that you’re thirsty.

Warnings.| Dubcon, daddy kink, p in v, rough sex, spit.

Word count.| .5k

���Fuck… Look at you princess, all worn out” Emmett grinned, his voice contempt even though he was pounding his massive hard dick inside of you. 

Underneath his built frame, you mewled, panting as if you were reaching the finish line of a marathon. At this point, you had lost count of how many times he had made you climax. But Emmett was a feature length movie, not a twenty minute episode of a sitcom show. He took a lot of time to finish, he had a lot of self restraint. 

When you first met him, you thought you’d hold the reins in the bedroom. The assumption that you’d be the firecracker and he’d just be there to watch the show couldn’t be more wrong. Emmett was a high speed train with no stops. He could go for hours, all night if he really wanted to. His aging body somehow managed to increase his stamina. 

“Daddy I’m tired” you whined, weakly pushing against his biceps. 

“We stop when I’m done” he answered firmly. You whined back, in a bit too much of a bratty tone for his liking. “Stop fucking whining, you wanted this, didn’t you?” 

You did at first. Emmett had just finished a long day at work, he went three hours overtime. When his heavy boots and worn out face appeared in the kitchen, you pounced at the idea of finally being able to take control. Have him sit back and unwind as you take your way with him. Boy were you wrong, again. 

He was a jackrabbit, one day you knew you’d end up pregnant. It was a miracle with how you weren’t already by how often Emmett was emptying his load into you. 

“Thirsty princess?” Emmett asked, a cocked eyebrow at you. 

You winced after you gulped, your throat was painfully dry. All you could do was quickly nod your head towards him. 

“Okay, open wide for me” 

Your eyes narrowed as he continued to pound into you with no intention of stopping. But you followed his command anyways, you knew what happened if you didn’t. Emmett breathed in heavily, his ball of spit shot out like a bullet. 

“That taste nice princess?” Emmett teased. 

“Y-yes daddy” you lied, forcing a smile as the spit rolled down your throat. 

He spat at you again, but this time it landed by the bridge of your nose. You whined, forcing your eyes shut as you felt the thick substance slip to your eyelids. 

“Don’t lie to daddy” Emmett hissed. 

“Sorry daddy!” you whined out. 

“You don’t have to like it, only take what I give you alright?” Emmett explained. 

“Yes daddy!” 

“Good princess, open your mouth again for me then” Emmett ordered sweetly. 

Your wobbly lips parted and his closed mouth twisted and turned as he built up the salvia inside. This time, he let it tease you as his thick spit dripped out of his mouth, you watched it slowly fall into your mouth. 

“Thank you daddy!” you shuddered as you swallowed his spit. 

“Good girl, now keep squeezing my cock, I’m ready to fill your pussy full with my cum” Emmett smirked.

[fkmarrycill]

He did say he likes naps and sleeping... 🤷🏽‍♀️😂

[industryhbo]

CILLIAN MURPHY as EMMETT A Quiet Place Part II (2020) dir. John Krasinski