#a quiet place Emmett smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 5 months ago

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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.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #smut #dark smut #emmett a quiet place #emmett x you #emmett x reader #a quiet place part ii

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago

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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

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.

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #a quiet place emmett x reader #emmett quiet place smut #sorry he has no last name yall lmao #emmett quiet place x reader

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kiss-me-cill-me · 8 months ago

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

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***

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.

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.

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.”

Taglist: @cillmequick, @hanawrites404, @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch, @littlewinter1917, @mothhball, @nnattu, @red-riding-wood, @slut4thebroken

#emmett x reader #emmett smut #emmett a quiet place #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy smut #LemmyFics

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cillianhead · 1 year ago

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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)

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)

Are You Afraid of The Dark? (smut)

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)

Manhandled (smut)

Emmett (A Quiet Place II) x Reader:

Scream For Me (smut)

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Your Dog (smut)

Oppenheimer x Reader

- 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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pedropascallme · 10 months ago

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People Worth Saving

Pairing: Emmett x f!Reader

Summary: "You bit the bullet and wandered closer to the dome, quiet footsteps aided by your worn-down sneakers and a strong will to find some security in this new space. Before you managed to lean down, to open the hatch and slide down into the waiting abyss below, something grabbed your jacket and pulled you back. The urge to cry out was tamped down by your will to live, and by the hand that quickly covered your mouth."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) age gap (reader is 19-20), p in v sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of death, child loss, general Quiet Place II angst, you know the drill, etc, etc. If I missed anything please let me know!

You had distant memories about your childhood, and the hammock that your father set up in the front yard between the two tall trees that had been there longer than the neighborhood had. He had gotten lazy, setting it up one summer and then never taking it down; it sat through sleet and snow and sunshine in the same spot.

Even if it got wet, you didn’t mind. You loved that hammock.

You realized early on that if you swung your legs over the side and swayed back and forth, you could use it as a swing. Pumping your legs hard and building up momentum only to leap off at the last second and fall in a heap at the end of the lawn. It drove your mother crazy with worry about skinned knees and concussions, but you were so full of joy in the moments of adrenaline leading up to the landing.

In the fall, when the leaves changed and fell and the trees became dormant, your father brought out the rake to clear the driveway and the path to the stairs. He piled the leaves high, and you always managed to completely destroy his hard work; swinging in the hammock and launching yourself into the dry, dead leaves, you created an explosion of autumn colors around yourself, feeling the solid crunch under your body. You’d laugh and laugh, and when your father had seen what you’d done, he would laugh, too, raking the leaves back up to repeat the cycle again.

You didn’t even care that for the rest of the day you found small twigs in your Pippy Longstocking-style braids, or that the leaves made your clothes smell musty until your mother threw them in the wash. You were too young to care about anything but having fun.

Now dry leaves terrified you.

Walking through the field felt like a death sentence, and every step you took was carefully calculated to avoid detection. Your heel would land softly in a patch of dirt, then your opposite foot would land sideways on the grass surrounding an obvious booby trap. You had no idea if it was still operating, if whoever had put it there was still checking it or if they were even still alive, but you didn't want to test any theories.

You longed to crunch the leaves under your feet, to feel the simmering nostalgia under your skin come to a boil and create your own pile to jump into—to feel free again from the burden of the world and of survival.

You made it to the entrance, concrete and dry, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Though the building was huge and likely easy to hide in, and the interior was empty enough to create a dull echo with every step, you still found solace in solid footing. Part of you wanted to scream out a greeting, to see if anybody would reveal themselves—perhaps the creator of the traps outside, or someone who had found said creator and done to them what most people do now when they come across an unsuspecting second party.

Screaming was off the table, for obvious reasons, but that didn’t stop the voice in your head from repeating hello? Over and over until you couldn’t remember if you had said it out loud or not.

You took several light steps to explore your surroundings. It had been a factory, maybe, or a foundry; it was mostly machinery and empty space, but you could imagine the people that must have once taken up space on the now-empty floor around the large pillars and appliances.

You couldn’t imagine that many of them were still breathing.

There was a dome shaped trap door on the far end of the building, and you felt the urge to explore further; it had been too long since you’d been able to rest in a sturdy, isolated place, and the itch to know what was behind the hatch made you feel unreasonably confident in finding safety with whatever it was. A bed, maybe. Something soft and warm and capable of helping you forget the constant state of fear you lived in.

You bit the bullet and wandered closer to the dome, quiet footsteps aided by your worn-down sneakers and a strong will to find some security in this new space. Before you managed to lean down, to open the hatch and slide down into the waiting abyss below, something grabbed your jacket and pulled you back. The urge to cry out was tamped down by your will to live, and by the hand that quickly covered your mouth.

You breathed heavily into the warm hand that now sat on your lips. The other hand of the person who now held you captive tightened around the base of your jacket, pulling you further from the promise of any dream you had created that lay beyond the underside of the trap door. You couldn’t turn your head, relying now on your eyes quickly darting side to side, trying to use your peripheral to catch a glimpse of whoever the hands connected to.

“No.”

It was a man’s voice, shaky and frightened but clearly attempting to reprimand you. You kept breathing, trying to find a way out of the situation, or at the very least a way out of your current position. You slowed your breathing, trying to still your body, making yourself malleable and light in his hands so that he assumed you would submit. You felt his hand loosen its grip on the fabric around your back, and in the same moment you swung your leg back, digging your heel into his shin as best you could from the angle before stomping on his foot when your leg came down.

His hands flew to his face, covering his own mouth in an attempt to silence his yelp at the sudden pain in his leg. You turned around, grabbing his wrists limply and forcing your fingers into his short hair to pull him down to you. You saw him wince under the handkerchief he wore across the bottom half of his face, bright blue eyes, worn down and tired, narrowing at you. You stared at each other until he gathered his bearings, straightening his legs and overcoming the pain you had caused him.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You whispered as menacingly as you could, refusing to become a shrinking violet in the presence of this stranger after everything you had gone through. He moved his hands slightly, as if to shrug, before you realized you had him trapped with his palms over his face and thus left him unable to speak. You dropped his wrists, and his arms fell to his sides, but you kept a vice-grip on his scalp.

“Get out.” He kept his sentences short, you noticed from the three words he had spoken, and you understood why.

“Why?” You weren’t going to make this easy for him.

“You can’t stay here.” Four words. New record.

“Why?” You pressed, bothered that he seemed to think he had a right to the entirety of the building despite its size.

“It’s mine.”

“Don’t see your name on it.” He rolled his eyes at you, and you tightened your grip on his hair, earning another pained look from him. “And you don’t seem to be in any position to be giving orders.”

“Took me by surprise.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” You were dry, not wanting to give in to any banter he might try to pry from you. “Look, I haven’t eaten in two days, haven’t slept in three, and I don’t think either of us wants to make a scene given the current climate,” you nodded your head toward the door, implying that you’d leave him for the wolves if you had the chance. “Let me stay. One night. Then…”

“One.” He repeated, not bothering to acknowledge your sob story or the implication that this would be a fight for later. “Can you let go of me now?” You let go of him, pushing his head slightly as you loosened your fist. He straightened to his full height and rounded you. “Were you followed?”

“If I was, we’d be dead by now.”

“By people?”

“If I was, we'd be dead by now.” You persisted.

He let out a long exhale before nodding, bending to open the hatch and offering a hand to help you into the room below. “Ladies first.”

You exhaled sharply, biting your cheeks, and grabbing his outstretched hand before lowering yourself into the fluorescent lighting that awaited you. You retracted your hand as soon as you made it down one rung of the ladder.

It was small. Not small—it was actually bigger than most rooms you’d slept in for the past few months, but it was built like a classroom; high ceilings and minimal furniture, the lights flickered above you and you jumped when you heard the hatch close with a loud creak and crash.

“S’alright,” the man dusted his hands off on his jeans, “can’t hear us down here.”

There was a tunnel built into the wall, and you noticed a rag tied to the handle.

“What’s this?” You fiddled with the fabric before he came over to brush you off of it.

“Even quieter in there.”

“How’d you figure that out?”

“Trial and error.” He said simply before turning his back to you and slumping into the couch that lay in the middle of the room. He removed his handkerchief, sharp features only slightly hidden now by his unkept beard.

You wandered around, taking in the meager furnishings and the machinery. You had no idea what this room was meant to be in the building’s prime—maybe some sort of safe room, some sort of storage area. Who cared, really; now it was just another waste of perfectly good silence.

“So,” you started, still speaking softly out of habit and mild distrust, “are you going to, uh, get me to let down my guard? Kill me in my sleep?” You picked at the paint that was peeling off the wall.

“Not as long as you’re out by tomorrow,” he almost smiled, “and for the record, I’d only kill you if you were awake. Only fair that you see it coming, at least.”

“Cute,” you huffed, “And now that I’m down here what makes you so certain I’ll leave?” You were testing him, trying to see if there was any truth at all to what he was saying. He didn’t look like a killer, granted neither did you before day one; he was tall, compared to you, at least, and lanky. He clearly hadn’t had access to a razor since he’d been down here. He folded his arms where he sat on the couch, pleasant-ish small talk paired with closed off body language. You couldn’t see any weapons within arm’s reach, and if you had to guess you would say he only learned how to use whatever gun that he owned—if he owned one—when everything went to hell.

“Guess I’ll leave it up to trial and error again.” You liked his eyes, you decided, and the way the blue of his irises was so pronounced against his pale skin and brown hair. Maybe you even thought he was handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you might let him buy you a drink and see where it took you. You kept walking in circles around the room in silence, figuring that if he had anything worth saying he would come out and say it.

You stopped at a small table, something your mother would’ve gawked at in an IKEA as if she would actually ever buy it after looking at the price tag. There were pictures, hand drawn sketches and scribbles and faces in black and white. Some of them had color, faded, and worn by time, but still clear as day in the part of your brain that bothered to register the details.

“These are nice,” you were first to speak again, “you draw them?”

“No…” he looked like he was struggling to find the words to say what he wanted to, “My—my wife…” He trailed off, and you knew immediately that she was no longer in the picture, whether it had been before or after the invasion. Still, you felt a twang of disappointment; maybe for him, for his lonesomeness—or maybe for you, for your own.

You picked up a sketch that looked to be of two young boys, and even on the washed-out paper they looked like the man behind you. You turned, paper in hand, unsure of whether you wanted to speak to him about it, dredge up his memories.

But what's a little friendly conversation between new anti-companions?

“Yours?” You leaned over the back of the couch, holding the sketch in front of you so he could see what you were talking about. He reached for it, and you noticed a slight tremor in his hand before he took the paper from you.

“Yes,” he breathed, “yeah.”

“Look like you.”

“Better looking kids than I ever was,” he chuckled, low and solemn, “better behaved, too.” You watched on as he studied the picture, before he stood up and placed it back on the table behind the couch. “I was—um…y’ever seen the movie The Mist?”

“Yeah…” You wondered what exactly he could be building up to.

“When they—my sons—they…the first day…" You could feel his breath, not because of proximity, but because you knew the same pain. "And I was so, so scared that I would wake up on day two to find that everything had returned to normal, and everything was going to be ok, but they would still be…like at the end of that movie.” He folded his arms again, “but now I, I mean this is—god, I guess I’ve never said it out loud, uh…maybe…it’s good they didn’t have to see…this.”

You nodded, remembering how that movie ended; your parents had let you watch it, not knowing what it was about. You had nightmares any time it got foggy until you were ten or eleven. “Yeah,” you looked at him, making eye contact for a solid few seconds before averting your gaze. “I—my parents, and…my brother…” you didn’t know how to phrase it, feeling as though he had already said it all, “I get it.”

You didn’t tell him you had turned 19 in the week leading up to doomsday, that you had been sitting on the hammock that shaped your childhood and thinking about the joy of being small enough to jump into the leaf pile your dad was raking when you saw the first meteor strike town, or that the last words your mother screamed were “I’m sorry.”

It just didn’t seem right; sometimes grief is better explained through the silences.

“I’m Emmett,” he broke you from your thoughts, “And I’m…sorry for—if I scared you. Up there.”

You said your name, realizing it was the first time you had introduced yourself to anybody in over a year. You reached out your hand and he took it in a firm shake. “Pleasure.”

He smiled, a genuine, full smile this time. You decided it suited him well.

“You sleep on the couch?” You broke free from the way he was analyzing your features, trying not to focus on what he might think of them.

“Usually, yeah,” he leaned against the arm of the sofa, “but I’d be ok to sleep on the floor if you want.”

“No—that’s nice, but no, you don’t have to.” You hoped he saw through your lie, how desperately you wanted to rest on something soft. “I’m only here for the night, anyway, remember? Don’t want to…shouldn’t get too comfortable.”

“You can…” Emmett looked at you, then over his shoulder toward the couch, “I’m sorry.” He ran a hand over his forehead, lifting his messy hair before trailing down to stroke his beard, “you can stay, I just—can’t be too careful, you know? And I didn’t, I was worried you were—”

“Gonna kill you?” You smirked, and he smiled again.

“A little, yeah.” He looked at you, and you realized how close you’d gotten to him over the course of your conversation, “Stay as long as you want.”

“Does this mean I get the couch?”

“I think that’s fair.” He moved, grabbing several pillows from the couch, and dropping them on the floor underneath it; his makeshift bed would, at least, be mildly comfortable if he could help it. “You got here when the sun was setting, I’ve been up since it rose,” he sat amongst the pillows, trying to lay them out in a manner suitable for him to rest on, “So, if you don’t mind, I’m about ready to get some sleep.”

You nodded, dropping yourself onto the couch and grabbing the thin blanket draped over one of the cushions; it was threadbare, and fraying, but you didn’t care—too focused on the fact that you’d be able to sleep in a quiet, comfortable spot. You watched Emmett flick a switch in the corner of the room before he returned to his mess of pillows, and the lights dimmed. If you squeezed your eyes shut you felt like you might be able to hear your parents watching television in the other room, like you were in your own bedroom eavesdropping on their hushed conversations; safe, known.

But it wasn’t any of that—not really. In the back of your mind, you worried about the lack of exits in the room, the fact that you still didn’t know whether or not Emmett had a weapon, the looming threat that remained just above you. You looked at the ceiling when you opened your eyes, wondering if anything had followed you, wondering if they would figure out how to unscrew the hatch and find you in this echo chamber of a building.

“Emmett,” you managed to whisper through your anxieties, “Are you awake?”

“It’s been five minutes,” he sounded tired, and you realized that the dryness of his voice wasn’t due to any disinterest in you, but lack of use. “I’m still awake.”

“How do you know this is safe?” You picked a loose thread from the blanket and watched it unwind in your hands.

“It’s safe.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

You tried to drop it after that, ignoring the fears that you carried with you from past encounters where you were assured of your safety, only to wake up and find that you had to keep running. “And they can’t hear us?”

So much for dropping it.

“They can’t hear us.” You heard him turn over on the floor, and you shifted to face him. Even in the darkness, his eyes were piercing, and you had no trouble finding them with your own. “I’m certain. I promise.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he shook his head, “only fair to be nervous.”

You nodded, lying back down, and pulling the blanket to your chin. It didn’t really do anything, and the chill of the room seeped into you even after you shifted to make yourself more comfortable. Maybe it was because you kept moving, or maybe he felt it too, but Emmett addressed you again.

“Cold?”

“Yeah,” you didn’t bother hiding it. Once the world went to shit there was no real reason to keep up the niceties of denying discomfort to your host. At sleepovers hosted by your friends, you would’ve said no, I’m perfectly comfortable, and breathed into your hands until the sun rose, and your mother picked you up with a sweatshirt and a bagel fresh from the toaster. Now? Fuck it.

“Would’ve been warmer in here when the building was still in use,” he began to ramble, and you thought it was so dad of him to feel the need to explain the history of the building you slept in when all you really wanted was some comfort, “machines and bodies moving, and, I mean, the heat generated from these things would’ve been crazy.”

“Emmett,” you cut his monologue short, your face peering over the couch cushions and down at him, “are there more blankets?”

“No…” He seemed embarrassed, almost like he was worried he was disappointing you.

“Are you cold?”

“Not really.” He closed his eyes.

“Emmett.”

“A little.” He sighed; his eyes opened again.

You sat up and patted the couch, unsure of why exactly this was the solution you had landed on, but feeling like it was worth a shot. “Come.”

“Are you sure?” He hardly seemed hesitant, moving to join you almost immediately, but still trying to gage whether or not it was an empty offer.

You nodded, moving to make room for him behind you. When he first settled onto the couch, you recognized that this was the first time in ages that anybody had touched you—that anybody had come close to you. Heat radiated off of his clothed body and you couldn’t help but inch closer to him, bodies tangling together on the small sofa, trying to find peace. You wondered if he felt the same catharsis that came with sharing a sleeping space; if he was just as in awe as you were at how perfectly your bodies seemed to fit together, curving to appeal to the needs of each other and your individual comfort. Emmett’s arm draped over your abdomen, his hand brushing the hem of your shirt, and you sighed, unable to hide your content at the feeling of him shielding you from the wider world.

“When was the last time you…” you whispered, trailing off when you realized how awkward the question would sound.

“Hm?” His response was muffled, his face all but buried in your hair.

“When was the last time you touched somebody?” You but the bullet.

“I…must be months, now.” He didn’t think too long about it, “What about you?”

You turned in his arms, careful to not disturb the cushions too much under your weight. You were face to face with him now, with little room to do anything but breathe. “I don’t remember.”

You didn’t mean it in any sexual sense; really you were just curious as to how much physical affection anybody was getting given the current state of things; how long had it been since any two people had the time to just hold hands? And really enjoy the touch and weight of the other’s hand in their own, fingers interlocked? But deep down you knew there was an implication to your words, a desperate implication that you hoped he would pick up on, and that, if he did, he would understand your want, and fulfill it wholeheartedly.

Emmett’s hand strayed from your waist to brush your cheek, the back of two fingers caressing your skin, and your patience broke; you held his wrist with both hands, a parallel to the way you had trapped him earlier when you considered him a threat, and lowered it to your lips. You could feel the callouses he had built up, the roughness of his palm versus the soft skin of the back of his hand. You gave each finger a delicate kiss, waiting for him to break away, waiting for him to move back to the floor and tell you that you absolutely had to leave tomorrow, to hell with what he had said earlier.

But he didn’t.

He watched, transfixed, as you slid one finger into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip and releasing it with a quiet pop. You let go of his wrist, and looked up at him with hooded eyes, half-expecting a look of disgust.

His mouth was open just enough to see the edges of his top teeth, eyes focused on your lips, and you felt that his breathing had picked up, though that could have been a trick of the surrounding quiet.

“You like that?” No, he was definitely breathing harder. You could hear it in his words.

“Yeah,” you sighed, relieved by his words, the bright eyes staring back at you in the dark room seemed entirely untroubled with your actions, “Do you?”

“Yeah.” His fingers moved to trace the shape of your face before landing on your chin, lifting you slightly higher to allow him access.

No time was wasted in the moments that followed; his mouth attached to yours in one natural movement, and he immediately granted your tongue access to him when you began licking gently at his lower lip. You felt spit and teeth, and you could hear your heart in your ears, its rhythm in your face as he nipped gently at you, your lips getting puffy from use.

Arms wrapped around your waist again, this time to haul you up and over Emmett’s body, his motion encouraging you to straddle his waist. You planted your hands on his chest before reconnecting your lips to him, determined to explore every inch he offered you from your new vantage point. His t-shirt, stretched and worn, exposed a sliver of his chest, and you were quick to suck marks onto his collar bones and just below them. He groaned at the contact, hands traveling lower down your body in order to undo your jeans.

“Work with me baby, c’mon,” Emmett clumsily undid your fly as you licked over any skin you could reach. He pulled at your hair to bring your line of sight to his, and the stinging pressure on your scalp made you moan, “Help me out here, I’ll give you what you want.”

You straightened out above him, grinding your hips into his as you stripped down; jacket, shirt, and jeans following once you had made enough room for yourself to remove them. You returned to your rightful place on his lap, continuing to grind down onto him to relieve the building ache in your core. The friction he gave you was just right, and it helped to hear him groan when you dragged your hips up and down at just the right pace, his cock twitching in his pants at the weight and the angle.

His hands came up to paw at your chest, squeezing the tender skin before leaning forward to wrap his lips around your nipple. Your back arched, and you could only guess how pathetic it looked, coming so undone, so easily, for a man you had just met, clearly more than ten years your senior.

It was desperate and needy, and you didn’t care; you deserved this. Both of you deserved this.

You felt teeth brush against your pebbled skin, making you grind down harder atop him, letting the tip of his clothed cock catch your naked cunt and relishing in the sensation. He removed his mouth from your nipple, pulling you down to him to reconnect your mouths and give you a deliberately sloppy kiss full of tongue.

“Off,” you pleaded between gasps of air, fingers skimming the edge of his pants, “Take them off.”

Emmett huffed, and you sat back on your knees, giving him the space to sit up and remove his shirt, before he stood to take off his jeans. You waited for him to rejoin you on the couch, to continue what he had started there, but he kneeled in front of you instead, pulling you legs apart and holding them wide open.

“God,” one of his hands fell forward, gently placed low on your stomach, his thumb toying with your swollen clit and puffy lips, “Fuck.”

He dove into you, mouth open and wanting; you felt him come into contact with your hole and you jumped, head back and eyes closed as genuine pleasure washed over you. You placed a hand on the back of his neck to stabilize yourself as he began to fuck you with his tongue. The muscle lapped up your slick, pushing back into you, and repeating the process, his thumb still massaging your clit.

“Yeah, like that,” you whimpered, back arching off the couch. The hand still on your thigh ensuring that your legs would stay open for him reached up to squeeze one of your nipples; it was rough, and all the movement and friction he was giving you was utterly relentless. The overstimulation left you reeling, and you put your own fingers in your mouth to muffle the screams you wished you could let him hear. “Just like that, Emmett.”

You felt yourself teetering on the edge, one breath and you were a goner, bound to free-fall.

"I feel you," he let a trail of spit fall over your cunt, and when he spoke you could feel the prickly hair of his beard against your thighs, "squeezing me so tight—cum for me, baby, c'mon."

He sped up his movements on your clit ever so slightly, and you felt your legs begin to tremble, body light and head full of stars. You came with ease, the most relaxed you’ve felt in ages was with Emmett’s face buried in your cunt, lapping up what dripped from you like it was his only water source.

You nearly had to pry him off of you, fist in his hair while you came to from your high as he continued to enjoy himself vicariously through your pleasure.

“Come,” you steadied your breathing, “come here.” And he listened, but not before allowing himself a final taste, dipping his tongue into your center, rising to meet you face-to-face in another deep kiss. You could taste the sweet tang of your cum on his tongue, and it only drove you further into the fucked-out fugue state you were experiencing; you gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer and moaning into his mouth.

There was no rush, no bell to beat or timeframe to fit into, but you wanted so badly to see him come undone for you; you raised yourself up on your knees, and you felt them dig into the couch, the pattern of the fabric marking your skin as you pushed Emmett down. He sat, beckoning you to straddle him. You felt a shred of embarrassment, clambering to position yourself on top of him, an awkward feeling you hadn’t felt since high school, but it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered right now except him.

“Slow,” you finally settled, feeling his length brush against you from below, and with your head resting against his shoulder you could feel your own breath rebound against your nose. “Need you to go slow.”

“I know, baby,” he cooed, reaching down to fist his cock and line himself up with your entrance, “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You began to lower yourself, the feeling of his swollen head nudging your hole made you suck in a sharp breath; you bent your legs further, taking more of him, letting him fill you completely on your own terms, and he guided you every step of the way with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, breathing hard against the crown of your head.

Maybe it was because of the tension, or because you so craved the connection—to hear him respond to you and what you alone were doing—but you dropped down quickly on the last few inches, feeling him deep and rough against your cervix, earning a choked groan from Emmett in your ear.

“Fuck, good, baby, that’s right.” You preened at his words, holding your position for a while longer to get accustomed to the stretch you felt before finally raising yourself up slightly just to inch back down his shaft again.

You felt full, stretched out and used—but in a way that was so positively welcomed; it had been too long since you were able to enjoy yourself in any capacity, but this act was certainly the most fun.

“Feel good? Like riding me like this?” Emmett tilted his head back, grabbing a handful of your hair to pull you from the crook of his neck. You stared at him, and he at you, hellbent on watching as you liberated yourself from the nerves and anxieties of the world around you—he craved your bliss as much as you did.

“Yes,” you squeaked, still bouncing on his cock, legs getting sore at the exertion in such a tight space, “So fucking good, Emmett.”

He moaned, eyes fluttering closed and hands moving to grip your ass. You could feel his blunt nails dig into your skin, and you expected—hoped—that there would be bruises to show for it tomorrow.

“Getting tired?” He whispered when he noticed the short breaks you took between moving up and down on his cock to simply grind down onto him, moving your legs around his chest awkwardly in an attempt to shift your weight. You nodded, thighs burning from exertion, and he sat up, kissing your forehead before lifting you gently off of him and moving you to lie back on the couch. Emmett took his time crawling over you; he kissed your thighs, your stomach, the space between the plush skin of your breasts, before finally he had you completely engulfed underneath him, giving you soft kisses as he slid himself back into your warmth. You lifted your hips to meet him, moaning at how he fit with you, how you could memorize every ridge and vein of him like this.

And then he started really moving.

You felt him pull out, the slight pressure of the tip of his cock pressed gently against your entrance, taunting you, before he slammed himself back into your waiting cunt. It was deep, and rough, and you clawed at his bicep to ground yourself to him.

Emmett let out deep moans, forehead pressed against yours while he drove his cock as far into you as he could, and your logical side went completely out the window; you whined, yelped at the pleasure coursing through you, mewled for him louder than you should have, but neither of you seemed to care.

“That’s right,” he closed his eyes, focusing every part of himself on you, “give me another one, let me feel you.” His fingers latched onto your clit, watching intently at the way your face contorted at the friction combined with the feeling of his cock inside of you. He drew tight circles over the bud, letting you buck your hips up into him to signify how much pressure you needed at a given moment.

“Gonna—I’m gonna cum,” you whispered, then, louder, “Emmett, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

He didn’t say anything, just applied more pressure to your clit and gave you longer, slower thrusts. He watched as you began to tremble, your mouth falling open with small whines of his name. He sat up, cock still buried in your heat, thrusts slowing as you opened your eyes to the white-hot satisfaction of your orgasm. Overstimulated didn’t begin to cover it, but you didn’t want this to end.

His thrusts were getting sloppier, not in the sense that you could feel his rhythm falter, but his hips stuttered slightly every time he was fully sheathed in you, and you could tell he was holding back, trying to make this more about you than about his own release.

You pulled him down, nuzzling his neck and placing sloppy kisses on his pulse point as you whispered to him: “Want you to cum,” your lips grazed the shell of his ear, “Please, Emmett.”

You were proud that it seemed to only take your pleading whispers for him to lose himself to the finish he longed for; his hips snapped rough against you, and you could feel his chest heave against your own when he allowed himself one more moment inside of you before pulling out to finish in his fist.

His cum was warm, a perfect contrast to the sweat cooling on your skin, and his growl of your name was music to your ears. He fell forward, head cushioned by your breasts while you both focused on your breathing. Your fingers found the hair on the nape of his neck, thumb brushing the part of his beard that curved just under his ear.

You were in the perfect space between tired and satisfied.

“Thank you,” Emmett murmured into your skin, punctuating his words with soft kisses.

“Thank you,” you echoed, unsure of what to say now that the heat of the moment had passed. “I…I needed that.” You paused, “I liked that.”

“Me too,” he whispered.

“I don’t want it—I don’t want this to be the only time.” You felt immature for some reason, all but begging for this to happen again when you didn’t even know if you’d see next week.

“Doesn’t have to be,” he whispered, “we don’t have to leave,” he looked up at you, tracing your features with his eyes, “You don’t ever have to leave.”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. He squeezed it back.

You fell asleep without a care, thrilled to be in the position you were in, in every sense of the word; Emmett stayed on your chest, the weight of his body on yours only adding to the reassurance and calm you felt.

You had a dream that you raked your own pile of leaves, and jumped into them.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #a quiet place #a quiet place part ii #a quiet place ii #a quiet place 2 #emmett #emmett x reader #emmett x you #emmett a quiet place #emmett fanfiction #emmett smut

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beastofburdenxo · 1 year ago

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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.

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.

#emmett x fem reader #emmett a quiet place #emmett smut #a quiet place #emmett x fem! reader

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ikinremu · 3 months ago

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Veryyy Dark with Emmett please. He can't take his hands off from her . He likes it rough intense and add more & I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO SO MUCHHHH TAKE LOVEEEE😭💕💕

Hi anon! First of all, thank you so so much for the support, it really means the world, I’m so glad you enjoy 🫶 Secondly, thank you for requesting, I really enjoyed writing this one tbh so tysm for the ideaaa ;) !! Enjoy <3

Anything could happen

Emmett x Fem!Reader

! Smut Warning !

Tags: P in V, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Hair pulling, Degrading, Praise, Spanking/Slapping, Marking, Manhandling, Light choking

Emmett had been utterly obsessed with you since the moment you two had crossed paths. The scent of your skin, the way your clothes hugged tight at your body, it took everything in him to keep focused - to keep to himself.

And now, you two had finally found yourself alone with only the company of one and other - and best of all, safe, away from danger. Anything could happen.

The fire crackled between the pair of you, freshly ablaze and illuminating the fireplace. Somehow, it felt rather like Emmett's eyes were burning into yours more intensely than the fire itself. You watched as he took a small swig of his beer, one of the two you shared.

"Alright?" He spoke, and you gave a simple, soft nod in return. It was odd, speaking with freedom again, rather than the choice of complete silence or barely audible whispers.

"Mhm." You smiled, although the air felt thick, full of frustration.

You didn't once hesitate in sipping at your very own bottle, it was refreshing - despite its unpleasant taste - reminding you of your new-found safety.

From the opposing side of the blazing fireplace, Emmett watched intently as your lips wrapped slowly around the bottle head. God, he was a man starved. Despite everything, he couldn't help it; the way his cock twitched in deprivation beneath his jeans. The plump of your lips, the manner in which you swept away the droplet of beer sliding down your chin. It was such a common, innocent act, although coming from you, it had his length rising against the denim. It drove him wild. It'd been agonising, being so drawn to you without the chance to act.

The heat from the fire tickled your skin, not quite enough to break a sweat, but a slight sheen. But the wind decided to ruin the warmth, much to your annoyance, the gust whistling through the window and sending an unwelcome chill over your skin.

"Dammit." You huffed, no longer finding it a pleasant breeze, standing and ambling over to the widely opened window, reaching for the handle in a way that had you leaning over the deep windowsill.

As you wrapped a single hand around the distant latch, you felt two unfamiliar grips on your hips. You flinched a little, taken aback, but continuing nonetheless.

"Just a little more.. there you go." Emmett whispered from behind you, angling you further forward, his mouth lingering right beside your neck.

You couldn't quite assure yourself if you felt correctly, it felt as though the strain of his jeans was pressing against your ass as you tugged the window shut, letting it click together. It locked, and you were faced with an undeniable, rather large, pressure against the denim of your shorts.

A flutter spread through your stomach, catching you off guard, you'd been deprived of such contact in a while - and you certainly weren't anticipating it from Emmett.

One warm, callous hand trailed up your torso, making you shudder beneath the breath against your neck, where his hand suddenly stopped. The pad of his thumb pressed directly under the crook of your jaw, his vacant fingers seizing your chin, turning your head just enough to send your eyes wandering back to his own.

Heart beating rapidly against the wall of your chest, you felt Emmett's lips reach a slow parting, brushing ever so gently over your ear. Something about the situation felt so right, but impossibly wrong too.

"Are you going to behave for me?" He whispered, breathing heavily.

His grasp tightened, giving your hips a teasing squeeze through the denim of your shorts.

Mind scrambled, you gasped, "Emmett-"

"Are you?" He interrupted, tone riddled with expectancy.

Your breath hitched within your throat as you mulled it over. You couldn't deny the brewing arousal between your thighs, the way your skin flushed, you wanted this. You nodded.

The very second he was granted the nod, Emmett let out a low, satisfied groan, grabbing you immediately and positioning you infront of him atop the window sill, swinging your legs round his hips. Using both hands, he tore your top clean from your torso, your eyes wide as a shiver ran down your spine. You hadn't at all pinned such strength to him, though you weren't complaining.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to have you like this?" He practically grumbled, hungry gaze falling to your bra, which he made light work of disposing.

You whimpered upon the feeling of his grasp on your exposed breasts, the way he delved against them the second they were bared to his touch, rolling his thumbs over your nipples, pebbling them under his touch.

"Look at these fucking tits, begging for attention." He scolded, giving them a rather possessive slap, drawing a shocked moan from your lips, "Making my cock so fucking hard seeing them under that little top of yours, huh?"

Your cheeks burned hot, arousal fuelled by the sting of his palm against your naked chest.

Emmett brushed his thumb in warning over your mouth, muttering, "Open." You obeyed, parting your lips, however clearly not to his satisfaction. "Wider."

God, his tone of voice was unbelievably different; demanding, expectant even. But the harshness of it had your underwear sodden.

You presented your mouth to him, allowing his thumb to slide gradually inside. He pushed the thick digit slowly atop your tongue, making you splutter a little.

He leaned in, face looming a mere inch from your own, his voice hushed to a breathy whisper, "Suck."

Your skin felt hot, although an excited shiver coursed through your spine. You hadn't anticipated such behaviour from Emmett - it seemed like frustration, as if it had been building for quite some time. You inhaled sharply, knowing your panties were growing soaked as you wrapped your lips around the digit.

"That's right, baby." His lips curved, and suddenly his face was driven eagerly to your chest, pressing his open mouth to the fragile skin, sucking ferociously as he ran the tip of tongue over your nipples.

His exhales were humid, ragged and heavy against your skin as he spoke, swirling his thumb against your tongue, "These are gonna look even better all marked up, hm?"

Your eyes flickered together, nodding gently around him as your lips stroked over his thumb.

"More, c'mon, show me how you'd suck my cock." He encouraged, landing yet another smack to your chest, making the sensitive skin tingle beneath the strike of his palm.

You released the dampened digit with a little 'pop' before slipping it within your mouth once more, this time applying more pressure.

One of your hands was suddenly blanketed by a far larger, slightly rougher one, practically encasing yours as Emmett guided your touch down to his crotch slowly, ghosting your palm over the peak of his worn-out jeans.

"Feel that?" His words poured out as a broken, ragged breath, "It's just for you."

Holy shit, he was impossibly hard against your skin, twitching beneath the material. Just for you. The effect was mutual. Instinctively, you acted on the signal, unzipping the trousers as he assisted in tugging them down, boxers centring his arousal.

Your nipples hardened under Emmett's skilled fingertips, the stimulation making you moan timidly round his thumb, which rested firmly atop your wet tongue, "So responsive.."

He drew the digit from the warmth of your mouth, slick with your saliva, satisfaction painting the canvas of his face.

"That put that mouth of yours to good use, huh sweetheart?" He chuckled, hoarse and low, pointing the focus of his thumb to the button of your shorts.

He planted a light slap to your breasts once more before seizing your hips, merciless in his desire as he hauled you up, hands caressing the underside of your exposed thighs, gripping tightly at your ass as he carried you with ease to the sofa.

You gasped as he shifted you along, "Emmett!-"

"Quiet." He merely chuckled upon your surprise, swiftly bending your half naked body over the sofas back, positioned directly behind you, hips grazing yours.

Emmett snatched the waistband of your shorts, fingertips digging into the material, "You know how hard these little fucking shorts got my cock? Making me think about what's under there?"

You whimpered, feeling the - now familiar - impact of his palm striking your behind, making you jolt forward a little.

"This fucking pussy is gonna make it up to me, sweetheart." He mumbled, yanking your shorts down with the firm hold he maintained, a rather gravelly groan escaping his throat as his gaze drifted to the sight of you.

Your underwear was completely soaked through, and exceptionally thin to begin with, providing almost no modesty.

Emmett's hand came down once again, this time planting a significantly rougher spank to your sensitive flesh, "I knew you were a little fucking whore, just look at this."

Beyond your control, your stomach twisted with arousal as the comment slipped his tongue, and you stumbled messily over your words, "I'm not-"

"Oh, yes you are." He corrected, gentle fingertips taunting the sodden patch between your clenched thighs. "Only sluts get this wet from being treated like this, huh baby?"

You released a small, airy whine, feeling the thick of his bulge rub against your bare cunt, making you quiver against him. Pressing his digits to your sensitive clit, Emmett traced supple, teasing circles through the fabric. Ridding his pelvis of his boxers, he exhaled in utter relief, thrusting a single hand over the couch, looming a short few centimetres before your face, "Spit."

Your cunt clenched around air, shamelessly desperate to be filled. There was something so very thrilling about the manner in which he treated you - and he clearly knew that.

Without second thought, wetting his open palm with your spit, which he wrapped quickly round his bare, deprived length, "That's a good little slut, doing what you're fucking told."

The thick of his tip grazed over your sopping folds, already leaking with pre-cum. A loud, inviting moan left your mouth, impatient to feel him inside.

"Beg for it." He chuckled, "Beg for my cock in your pussy."

Emmett words were filthy, gruff and demanding as he spoke. Your cheeks fizzled with warmth in the absence of your words.

He planted yet another harsh, punishing smack to your bare behind, no doubt within your mind that’d it mark, handprint staining your skin. Abruptly enough, he seized your hair, tugging it up a little, bundled between his fingers as he kept a firm hold, “Didn’t you say you were gonna behave? I said beg, sweetheart.”

Your back arched upon the spank, instinctual although riddled with craving, arousal running down your thighs.

“Please.. Emmett, I need to feel you..” You heaved, breath hitching as the head of his cock prodded at your cunt again, purposeful in every aspect of his teasing.

“There you go, attagirl.” He praised, sliding one tightly packed hand over your upper thighs, clenched in a plea for friction, he swatted them lightly, “Spread them for me.”

Your teeth punctured your bottom lip, feeling each spark of impact he left, parting your legs as he desired, his fingers still intertwined in your hair.

Without warning, Emmett slid his thick cock inside your cunt, finally fulfilling what it’d been begging for from the moment he first touched you. In time with one and other, you slipped a satisfied noise, jaw falling open as he buried himself within you.

His vacant hand found no hesitation in grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing rather roughly, fingertips digging into the flesh with possession as he slowly pulled his hips back, then forward, beginning to thrust against you.

Your very own fingers curled into the couch for stability, feeling his naked hips bucking against yours at a quickly increasing pace.

"Fuck, I've waited so long to have my way with you.. With this sweet fucking pussy." He muttered, overcome by the sensation of you, body slamming against yours, your hair still unbudging in his clutch as your ass grew tender from the previous swats.

"Oh, shit!-" Your jaw fell open, and you fought to clam it back together, biting down into your lower lip. His pace was unrelenting, granting himself what he desired, as if he’d never let it slip from his watch again. Suddenly, his tip met your g-spot, reaching impossibly deep, ticking your back to arch even further, “Emmett."

"I know, you love my cock buried in that pussy, huh sweetheart?" He teased, practically panting as he continued his merciless grip upon your ass, pounding deep inside you, "Being bent over and filled like a good whore?"

Your breaths were swarmed by heated pleas, exhales shaky and ragged as his hips smacked against your behind, kneaded hungrily by his palms.

“Aren’t you just the perfect little fuck doll, mm?” He groaned from the pit of his throat, leaning over so abruptly, never relenting in his rhythm as he latched the heat of his open mouth to your naked shoulder.

You attempted an, admittedly feeble, nod, limited by the hold Emmett maintained through your hair, his mouth providing such ferocity to your skin it left a faint mark in its path.

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel.” He grunted, mouth perfectly aligned with your ears.

You couldn’t begin to muster the words, not in this very moment anyway, on the verge of crumbling beneath him.

“S-So good, please don’t stop..” You babbled out as he straightened himself behind you once more, offering your hair a little tug; somehow appearing quite rewarding.

Finally, Emmett shattered his contact with your scalp, instead snaking his hand to your chest, toying hungrily with your exposed breasts as he continued his relentless thrusts, shaft twitching eagerly inside you.

“I know, baby, doesn’t my cock just feel so good stuffed in your cunt?” He taunted, bordering on a mocking tone as he trailed his thumb teasingly over your nipple, flicking quickly at the hardened peak at the very same rate as the sofa rocking beneath your quivering bodies.

"Yes.." You breathed, gripping far more intensely at the cushioning as you felt your release approach, walls clenching desperately.

"Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined.." He groaned, hips snapping against yours at a sloppier rate, "You gonna cum? Cum on my cock like a filthy whore?" He breathed, once more planting a harsh spank to the swell of your ass.

You nodded frantically, clit over-sensitised and pulsing as the build of your orgasm threatened to tear you apart.

"You can do it, I know you can. Let go." Emmett demanded, hand trailing suddenly toward your neck, pressing at your throat gently, making you babble out brief, eager sounds. "Cum on my cock like a good fucking slut."

The possession of his fingers cradling your throat was just enough to tip you over the edge, senses flooded as his length filled you, hands squeezing at your skin, playing with your body however he so pleased.

Your orgasm struck, and your back only arched further, backside pushing against his flushed pelvis as your thighs trembled, an especially loud, pent-up moan fleeing your mouth as you released.

In similar time, Emmett snapped, sporting a sharp curse under his breath as he felt you spasm around his pulsing cock, “Fuck-”

Utilising your hips as a steadier, he slipped out of you with a blatant noise of defeat, and you were met with the new-found sensation of his hot release painting your thighs.

With just as much ease as ever, and impressively so, he flipped your frame, soothing your neck with the support of a single hand, finally pulling your lips into a searing kiss.

"Let's clean you up, hm?”

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! I’m working through a lot of requests so thank you for your patience if you’ve sent one in <3

#smut #smutty #drabbles #oneshot #emmett #emmett the quiet place #emmett x you #emmett smut #emmett x reader #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #cillian #cillian x fem!reader #emmett cillian murphy

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paradiseprincesss · 5 months ago

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if there's a heaven, i'm near it - emmett x reader (drabble)

masterlist

notes: as promised, here is a smutty drabble of emmett (this is before the whole plot took place lol) also i promise i'm working on my other requests! i just wanted to write something for emmett <3

summary: you've been secretly dating your dads best friend for months, and now that your dad is on vacation - you guys have the house all to yourselves.

word count: 876 words

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, age gap (reader is in college and emmett is in his forties) established relationship, creampie, overall general adult content lol

you were currently sitting on your kitchen countertop with legs spread and emmett's fingers curling into your soaking cunt as you moaned his name over and over again.

"f-fuck," you moaned softly, "please-"

"you're so naughty," emmett said lowly, his voice giving you chills in the best way, "look at you. getting fingered on the kitchen counter like a little whore."

his sinfully hot but degrading words only caused you to get even wetter (like that was even possible), and you let out a bratty whine as he continued to fuck you on his fingers. emmett's skillful work with his hands only brought you closer and closer to the edge as your eyes rolled back, and he watched your body's every reaction.

your dad was out of town for the next week and a half, and he didn't want his only daughter to be alone all the time. it's not like you lived in a dangerous neighbourhood or that you weren't old enough - you were in college for gods sake, but you understood where your dad was coming from. he was just worried. so he asked emmett, his best friend of over two decades, to check in on you occassionally.

unbeknownst to your father - you'd been secretly dating his best friend for months in secret. you'd been crushing on emmett since before he was divorced, but you didn't act on those feelings. you were still in high school at the time, but now you were a grown woman. the two of you started dating after your second year of college, and things had been going great since then.

well, minus the fact that your dad still had no idea you were screwing his best friend in secret - but it was more than that. you two agreed that eventually you would break the news. but for now, keeping it a secret made it all the more thrilling.

you whined again as emmett suddenly slipped his fingers out of you right as you were about to cum, and he licked them clean. the act made you moan and whimper as his eyes locked on yours the entire time. swiftly, he worked on getting his belt buckle and pants off while you stared at his toned, muscular arms and that tattoo he had on his bicep. my god was it hot.

as he lined his thick, hard cock up with your entrance, you gave him a pout so that he'd get on with it - but the expression was wiped right off of your face as he pushed his cock into your dripping hole. you both moaned at the feeling of him inside of you, and once he had fully bottomed out, he stayed still for a moment.

"you good?" he asked softly, kissing down your jawline and your neck.

"m-mhm, you can move." you tell him, desperate to feel him fuck you stupid, even though the stretch to adjust to his size still stung a little.

he groaned as he started to move in and out of your wet cunt, your back arching at the feeling of his cock pounding into you. the marble of the countertop below you had your wetness dripping down all over it, and emmett had noticed.

"look how fucking wet you are," he growled, "jesus- fuck, such a tight pussy. so warm and wet, so tight."

"j-just, nngh, just for you, e-emmett." you moaned, throwing your head back as you gripped onto his shoulders for some sort of support.

"yeah?" he groaned, "just for me, princess?"

"y-yeah, f-uck!" you whimpered.

he was plowing you to the point where you knew your legs would be aching for days to come, but you didn't care - you were already too cockdrunk to think straight. his cock continued to ram your hole ruthlessly as your cunt tightened up around him.

"s'good," he tells you, holding your hips with a grip that would definitely bruise, "you feel so fucking good, princess."

"ugh, m'gonna cum!" you whimper, your walls fluttering around his cock as his own thrusts started to get sloppy.

"me too, princess," he groans, "fuuuuuck."

as he gave you a few more sloppy but deep thrusts, you continued to hold onto his shoulders tightly as you came undone around his cock. emmett's hands dug into your hips as his own hips stilled, filling you up with every drop of his cum.

the kitchen was quiet for a few moments before emmett pulled himself out of you, and his cum dripped out of your spent hole. as you felt his warm seed leak out of you, you bit your lip and watched him grab a kitchen towel to help you get cleaned up.

"you're so pretty," he hummed, "especially with my cum leaking out of you."

his words made you blush, and you looked away shyly. he laughed softly, tilting your head back to face him with his hands as he pulled you into a soft kiss. as the both of you pulled away, he looked at you with such love in his eyes.

"you're my girl," he said softly, helping you down from the counter, "always have been, always will be."

"love you, emmett." you say sweetly, as he wraps his arms around you.

"love you too, princess."

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deceitfuldevout · 1 year ago

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Savior (Part 1)

Dark!Emmett x Reader

Word count: +2,394

Warning(s) in chapter: +18, Non con, Breeding, Forced Breeding, Minor character deaths, Kidnapping, Mentions of past character death, Murder.

Author's Note(s): I'm still riding the Cillian high.

It was summertime in Akron, NY. Life was simple, peaceful, was. You were excited to be starting as an elementary school teacher. Until they arrived, death Angels, they were called. Slaughtering anyone and anything in sight that made sound. There was only one thing you could do, and that was to survive.

It's been 474 days since the apocalypses began. Winter was approaching, so you and your group decided to venture out. You were careful with each step. Who knows when or where a creature would be lurking. They're quick and stealthy. Almost silent. A mistake your teammate makes resulted in your entire team's demise.

A sudden trip on a hidden string causes a wind chime to clatter down, purposely alerting the creatures. Before your team has a chance to escape, they were quickly dragged off by the creatures. One by one their screams were heard. You ran, as fast as you could. Until your legs almost gave out. You couldn't believe it. Everyone, everyone was gone. You were all alone, dealing with the aftermath of yet another loss.

The adrenaline still pumping though your veins as you took each step. You hadn't even realized the hidden beartrap until it was too late. It takes every ounce of your energy not to scream in pain. You force yourself to swallow it down, muffling a cry. Fat tears role down your cheeks. It takes you a while to compose yourself. After that the realization hits. You were trapped in the middle of nowhere. With only a backpack filled with medical supplies.

This was it, this time, you would surely die. A deep feeling of dread consumes all your senses as you wobble to a sitting position, the pain becoming excruciating. You really did try your best to stay alive. But when your vision begins to blur, you embrace the darkness, letting it consume you.

When you had woken up your body felt heavy. A throbbing pain pulses though your head. It was hard even trying to lift yourself from the bed. Wait, what? You swiftly lift yourself up, looking around to find out just where the hell you were. How the hell did you end up here?!

"You were out for a while," a voice calls. You turn around to find a man seated at a desk, just now finishing up his meal. He's dressed from head to toe. His outgrown beard covers most of his features. A trucker's hat covering the top of his head. It was hard to tell what he looked like in the dark, "Here," he hands you a bowl, it's canned soup. You hesitantly take it from him, "Thank you..." eating it with careful bites.

You notice him still staring but choose to ignore it. He was kind enough to save you back there. Surely he wasn't so bad. Emmett recognizes you the moment he found you lying unconscious at the front of his hideout. For a moment, he thought you were surely gone. Until he hears a faint whine escapes your lips. He doesn't know why he decided to drag you inside. Maybe he just needed a sign.

"Your friends they uh, they didn't make it," feeling sorry for what he'd just said. Your heart broke for them. One small mistake costed them their lives. A part of you carried survivor's guilt with you. Thankfully you weren't alone. He was at the right time and place. When you try kicking your legs out of bed a sharp pain hits one of them. A painful grunt escapes your lips.

You with certain now, your foot was broken, small jagged cuts decorate the heel and ankle. It seems as though he tried to help, "I did my best to stop the bleeding but...'m not a miracle worker," his voice is deep, raspy with age and time. It sounded too familiar. That's when it hits you, "Emmett?" There was no doubt, you were sure it was your old neighbor. Hell, you used to babysit his boys. Your brows furrow, now worried, "What happened to...?"

"Gone, I lost the boys to those things, and Nora, she couldn't take it..." his eyes start to glisten. His once lively spirit now the shell of a man he used to be. He's taken aback when you start to cry, "I'm so sorry Emmett..." you cried, "I loved them so much..." mourning the loss of his family. He knows very well, his boys were fond of you. Even asking if you could be their teacher for the next school year. You even applied to an open position for the upcoming fall. After all this time fate still had a way with bringing people together.

Emmett lets you rest up for a few days while out on a supply run. He even left a few supplies and food by your bedside. You wanted to know where you were, but with your leg being in the condition that it was, it was impossible. For now, it was best to rest while it heals. You didn't want to weigh him down.

In the meantime, you try different ways to stay busy. Each day completing at least two to three tasks around the room. Whether it was stretching, exercising, or attempting to walk again. Soon enough you were able to limp for a certain amount of time. Emmett was sweet enough to get you a crutch.

As time passed, you began to make yourself comfortable. Its been a while since you’ve arrived. To the point where the two of you had a daily routine. Emmett would be out, either hunting or gathering food and supplies. While you stayed to look over the compound. When Emmett would arrive after a long day of work, he'd come home find a homecooked meal waiting. It's been a while since he’s had a proper meal.

Emmett halts at the door, watching as you hum a tune while finishing up dinner. You sat on a wheeled office chair while getting the plates ready. He approaches you from behind, "Here, let me," carrying dinner to the table. The both of you ate in silence. But it wasn't awkward, you both enjoyed each other's company. You're the first one to speak up, "Hey so..." starting the conversation, "As soon as my leg heals, would it be alright if I come help?"

Emmett couldn't hide the look of disapproval on his face. He doesn't think you're ready, or even fit to go out there, "No,"

"No? Why? I can walk now and--" "No, final answer,"

"Are you serious?"

"As serious as I can be,"

"But it was only one time! They didn't get me--"

"It's not just the monsters you should be worried about..." he pauses, "...the people, they're not the same," as if it were coming from experience, "Look at your leg, you think a monster did that?" he scoffs. You were the last thing that reminding him of how kind life was before. He can't risk losing the little beacon of light left. Not again.

Emmett won't admit it, but it was lonely during the past few months. You made it all the more bearable. Something stirred inside of him. Just the thought of a pretty little thing waiting for him at home. He felt guilty. As if he didn't deserve a second chance. So, what does he do when confronted with a problem? He avoids it altogether. Emmett would spend hours going on raids just to avoid being in the house. Being alone with a pretty little thing like you would only lead to trouble.

It's been a while since he'd been with someone. During a supply run he'd found a few magazines to help, but it hadn't done the job. They weren't the same. Not even close. He can't even remember the last time he's emptied himself deep inside a pussy. His breathing becomes shallow from the thought of it.

"Emmett?" you tilt your head. Shit, what did you say? "I asked if you wanted more," scooting the bowl of stew towards him. He's flustered, "Sure thing," when he reaches for it his calloused hand brushes against yours. He's in awe by how soft it is. You were this ethereal being, who just so happened to stumble upon his hideout. He quickly retrieves his hand. Not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But did he really want that?

It was just the two of you all alone down here. He's much stronger than you. If he wanted, he could just take you, right here right now. And there would be no one to stop him. He imagines you on your knees, looking up at him with that innocent look. Shit...he has it, bad.

He can't decide if it was pure desire, or simply part of his nature to breed. You were already a natural playing the role of a homemaker. It's not like there was anything else to worry about. He would take care of you. He'll provide you with anything you need. All you had to do was give him a little something in return. Just once wouldn't hurt. As you ready yourself for bed, you notice Emmett still standing there. You turn towards him, curious of what he was doing. He pulls out a thin metal chain. What was that for?

"Please, don't fight it..." he nears. At that moment your heart sunk. Emmett held the metal in his hands, "You already know I'm stronger, so don't try to stop me," nearing the edge of the bed. You look at him with a look of dread, "Emmett?" eyeing the chain cautiously, "W-what are you doing?"

"Sh... just let it happen..." he nears, "I promise you I'll take good care of you, you'll never want anything else,"

"Emmett? No..." tears began to form. You couldn't run away from him, not with a limp. All you could do was scurry to the corner of the bed. Emmett links the chain to bottom of the metal bedframe. He held your good ankle in hand before linking it to the cuff. You're well aware he's much stronger, he even carried you all the way down here. He straddles your waist, and you scream profanities, lashing out at the man you once called a friend.

Emmett tries pleading with you to hear him out, he tries to muffle your screams with his hand. But instead, you retaliate by biting it. He grunts in pain, now retrieving it. He's not amused at all by your little rebellious stunt. This wasn't you. He doesn't have time for any temper tantrums. He's not angry, only determined, "Fine, have it your way," he's done having to fight for what's rightfully his.

He could've let you die out there, just like your teammates. It was your fault for trespassing, you were the ones who triggered his trap. Instead, he'd given you a new purpose in life. You'll never be exposed to the dangers of the outside world again. He'll make sure of it.

During the past few months, Emmett went absolutely feral. He couldn't keep his hands off you. Just this morning, you'd woken up to him buried deep inside you pussy, grunting like some sort of animal in a rut as he pounded that tight little cunt of yours. Still half asleep, you tried your best to ignore him. But when he raises your leg over his shoulder to deepen the thrusts, you couldn't hold it in. Small grunts escape your lips as you turn your head to the side, avoiding his gaze.

He leans in, "Hey...hey pretty girl, don't hide from me..." a hand cups the side of your cheek, turning you to face him. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, his hips still jutting in and out your channel. You were just starting to get used to his pace when suddenly he starts picking up speed. Your hands reach out to halt his movements, but he wrenches them off. Now pinning them to your sides as he chases his climax.

You feel the familiar sensation of his spunk now filling your womb. It's hot and sticky, some of it drips down and staining the sheets, "Fuck..." Emmett knew he should've laid out a towel. By now there was a small puddle of your juices mixed together. He would have to see if there were any blankets during his next run.

"Sh... just go back to sleep," he whispers. He couldn't help himself. He was tired and sore after spending most of the day scavenging for supplies. But as soon as he saw you sleeping soundly, in that sexy slip-on he’d gifted a while back, well, he just couldn't help himself. Is it not in his nature? There was no way you didn't know the power you had on him. He sighs, admiring your bow tuckered form.

It was a smart idea chaining you to the bed post. That reminds him, the purpose of today's trip. Emmett retrieves a salve from his bag. He starts rubbing it into the raw skin of your ankle before covering it with a gauze, "I'm sorry..."

"No, you're not…" you whisper to him. You're right, he's not. He kept both of your hands wrapped up in fabric bindings, so that you wouldn't hurt him or yourself. At first, he didn't mind the scratches, but when you almost claw his eyes out, that's when the idea had struck.

Emmett had warned you that the people weren't the same since then, including himself. He won't admit it, but as soon as he laid eyes on your unconscious form, the only thing he could think of was planting his seed deep inside you. He knew it was a good idea to save you, or was it you who saved him?

#dark!emmett #a quiet place 2 #a quiet place 2 emmett #reader #reader insert #fem!reader #afab!reader #emmett x reader #a quiet place emmett #a quiet place emmett x reader #emmett a quiet place #emmett a quiet place x reader #dark fic #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #dark smut

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darlingsfandom · 1 year ago

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hii idk if u write dark fics but could you do a yandere!emmett where he kidnaps the reader, you don’t have to write it if it makes u uncomfortable!!

hi!! I've never wrote dark fics before but hey! First time for everything right! Also thank you for asking ✨

WARNINGS: kidnapping, fingering, slight breeding kink! Swearing ...

No, it wasn't Emmett's fault. It couldn't have been his fault that you were alone. You were alone in your room at least you had thought. Emmett wasn't really anything to you, just another guy in the village. He was older than you by a good twenty maybe even thirty years, but you can't lie his eyes were a very pretty shade of blue and the scruff wasn't too bad but he's just another guy.

Emmett had wanted you since the day you were found out in the woods. He had found you alone and scared but brought you to the village and helped you get on your feet. Emmett watched your every move since then. It wasn't creepy too him because if you didn't know how he watched you when you went to bed or how you'd cook dinner for one, it's not creepy just merely observing his favorite person.

You were laid out on your bed flipping through some magazine about the hottest new Hollywood couple when the sound of foot steps perked you up. You set the magazine down and then the steps stopped. Your fingers wrapped around the bat you had next to your bed before you got up and slowly approached your bedroom door. With a quick open you jumped back and swung the bat only to realize you were swinging at nothing. You rubbed your forehead with your freehand. "For fucks sake!" You whispered yelled to yourself making yourself try to calm down again but because you let your guard down Emmett took his chance. His leather gloved hand wrapped around your mouth and the other around your waist. Your body instantly went into fight mode, your legs trying to kick and arms trying to flee, but they couldn't. Emmett might be older than you but he's sure as hell a lot stronger.

"Shh!" He whispered into your ear before biting down onto the lobe. Emmett used his strength to drag you down the hallway, out the back door and into his old pickup truck. He made sure to keep everything neat as possible just in case anyone decided they'd stop to see you. You should've ran when he had you the truck but you didn't know Emmett like that. He was crazy enough to kidnap you from your own home, he could kill you right there. Emmett got his truck going and drove in silence as you sat there with your hands tied poorly in some old rope.

Your eyes stung from the tears as Emmett pulled into the dark part of the woods. "Oh my god!" You whispered to yourself as he circled the truck, yanked you out by your arm and dragged you through the wet ground until you were shoved inside a little shack. "Please don't kill me!" You blurted out as he pulled the string on the light.

"Kill ya? Why on earth would I kill ya? You've seen too many movies my dear. I'm not gonna kill ya." He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before pulling out the pocket knife , cut the rope and tossed it aside before shoving you into the work bench. "I would never kill ya. Ya might be pretty but ya sure are stupid to think I'd hurt ya doll. Ya see, yer ma girl and I'd never let anyone hurt you so that's why I had to bring ya here. Gotta protect ya!" Emmetts beard tickled against your cheek when he leaned in and kissed you. It took you by surprise and as much as you wanted to push him off and run, your legs wouldn't let you. Emmett's hands ran over your hips before yanking down your pajama shorts. A small gasp left your lips as the cool breeze blew across your wet spot on your panties.

Emmett had the pocket knife in his hand as he held it against your throat. "Now I know ya ain't the brightest star baby , but please don't try anything stupid. I'd had for ya to get hurt. Just let me do what I want to ya because yer mine ! And I will play with ya however I please." The blade ran across your pressure point, down between your breasts, over your stomach and finally ripped open your panties.

"So wet already. It shouldn't turn ya on that I've kidnapped ya and am holding your life in my hands and wet yer soaked." He teased you as his index finger toyed over your folds slowly while his lips attached to the pressure points on your neck biting gently until you snapped back into reality when he pulled away and the feeling of his fingers thrusting in and out of you going faster with each second made your knees buckle while your hands gripped the work bench behind you. Emmett licked over the bite as he pumped his fingers harder. "What a freak you are sweetheart! Getting off on my fingers . " He couldn't handle it anymore and yanked his fingers out leaving a you feeling empty but only for a few seconds because once reality washed over you again that you were in fact getting fucked by your kidnapper, Emmett was already thrusting his fat cock into your tight pussy.

"Ya got a tight little pussy baby! It's mine!" He growled into your ear while snapping his hips into yours harder and harder. "Ya wanted this! Ya NEEDED this! Needed me to take care of ya. No one was ever satisfying enough for ya! " tears streamed down your face as Emmett took no mercy on you.

"Don't ya dare cry baby! Yer already so wet and your thighs are shaking! Can't believe yer going to cum because ya getting fucked by yer kidnapper and lover! So fucked up! Ya dirty slut! My! DIRTY! SLUT!" With each snap Emmett got closer to his own orgasm making you cry harder until the own feeling in your belly fired up.

"That's it pretty baby, cum on my cock while I fill you up and knock ya up! Look so good carrying my baby in ya belly!" His eyes rolled back into his head as he filled you to the brim with his cum which made your own orgasm hit you hard. You cried loudly while dragging your nails down his back.

"Aww see baby, ya really were meant to be mine and only mine." Emmett smirked down at you before giving the most loving kiss you've ever felt.

#emmet #a quiet place emmett #a quiet place smut #a quiet place Emmett smut #cillian smut #Cillian Murphy #cillian murphy smut #emsblurbs

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slut4thebroken · 6 months ago

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The Recipe

── ��⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Emmett x wife!reader

Summary | Emmett can’t keep his hands off you.

Warnings | Smut, praise, degradation, semi rough sex, breeding, cunnilingus, huuuge housewife kink, he’s very possessive but we love it

Words | 2k

Notes | Finally posting something 😭

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

More of these two

moodboard @liliesdiary

“That smells amazing, doll, what is it?” He walked over and gave you a quick kiss before finally setting down his bag, then taking off his jacket and hat.

“I’m trying to recreate that one pasta dish we had when we went to that fancy place a few months ago cause I keep craving it.” You smiled, keeping your focus on the stove. He did his best to stay out of your way in the small kitchen as he walked past you to get to the fridge and grab a beer.

“Fuck- and this dress.” He groaned. You heard a can open, then he was walking closer and smacking your ass. You had to bite your lip to control your sounds, not wanting to get distracted and mess up the meal when you were finally almost done making it. “I didn’t forget a date, did I?” He wrapped his arm around your stomach and nuzzled into your neck, teasingly kissing over it.

“No.” You chuckled. “I got lunch with Evelyn earlier.” You could practically feel the pout on his lips against your neck.

“You went out wearing this without me? All of the guys were probably all over you.” He grumbled.

“Emmett, this town is tiny. Everyone knows we’re married.”

“As if that’d stop them.” He scoffed, even though it seemed like he also knew he was being a little irrational.

“Go wash up. I should be done in a few minutes.” He groaned and tightened his grip around you, beginning to kiss your neck more enthusiastically. “Emmett..” You warned, making him huff but step away to go do what you said.

Once the table was set, you filled up two plates and set them down, then grabbed your own drink as Emmett walked back in. Dinner was mostly uneventful. He told you about work, you told him about the gossip that Evelyn shared with you. He told you about his latest idea for how to improve the house, you told him he had to finish his current project before starting a new one.

“How was it?” You asked, taking both plates to the sink.

“Amazing, doll. Tasted exactly like the restaurant’s.”

You scoffed a laugh, hearing him chuckle quietly. “You’re a shit liar.”

“It was still good either way.”

“Do you want to do the dishes or should I?” You and Emmmett had a system; either one person cooked and the other cleaned, or one person cooked and cleaned and the other did the same the next day.

“I think I’ll make that steak you got, so you go ahead.” He said, knowing that you didn’t know how to clean a grill. “Plus I want to watch you in that dress.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke.

“I don’t know why I married such a pervert.” You scoffed teasingly as you put the plates and silverware in the dishwasher before starting to handwash the larger dishes.

“I do.” He paused, walking right up behind you. “Cause you like it. You like that I can’t keep my hands off you.” He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you back so your ass was pressed firmly against the bulge in his jeans.

“Emmett, let me finish the dishes, then we can move on to that.” You chuckled, still trying to wash everything.

“I’m not stopping you.” He said simply. His hands dragged down the outsides of your thighs, then back up, pushing the fabric of your dress up to your waist. “Fuck…” He groaned, roughly groping the globes of your ass that were left bare because of your lace thong. You bit your lip and tried to stay focused, but it was getting increasingly more difficult.

“Are you gonna be a good little wife and let me use you?” He smirked, quickly opening his jeans to remove his already half hard cock.

“Emmett…” You said through a breath. You couldn’t tell if you were begging him to keep going or warning him to stop though.

“C’mon, baby. I deserve to fuck my girl after a long day of work.” You cursed under your breath and let your head drop down as you held onto the counter. “Do the dishes.” He chastised teasingly. He waited until you continued, then slid your panties to the side and lined up.

Your knees buckled and your mouth dropped open in a silent moan when he finally pushed in. “Fuck,” You choked out. The stretch was a little uncomfortable, especially in this position, but you were mewling and pushing your hips back into his regardless.

“Do the dishes.” He said firmly, placing a sharp smack on your ass. “I won’t tell you again.” You let out a low moan at the dominance in his voice. As soon as you continued washing, he was slowly dragging out and pushing back in. Your legs were already shaking and your breathing was already fast and uneven as you tried to cope with the overwhelming pleasure.

“You make such a perfect little housewife.” He murmured, brushing your hair over one shoulder so he could start kissing the side of your neck. He left marks up and down, his grip tightening on your hips almost painfully. “Cook and clean for me… take my cock whenever I want… You'll even give me some kids when I ask, won’t you?” You sobbed out a moan and let your head fall back on his shoulder. He slapped the side of your thigh, making you whimper loudly at the sting. “Don’t make me tell you again.” He growled.

With a whine, you lifted your head again and resumed washing. Honestly you were doing a shit job and you’d probably have to do it again once he was done with you.

“So obedient.” He cooed, gently nipping at your neck. You knew he was just saying all of this for the sake of the scene— Emmett can be old fashioned, but he’s not that old fashioned. Regardless, the longer his cock stayed buried inside you, the more you didn’t mind being his housewife and cock sleeve.

You almost dropped the pot into the sink when he suddenly sped up. But finally, you finished rinsing the last of the dishes and set it on the towel you laid out earlier.

“Good girl.” Pulling you to a clear space on the counter, he pushed you down with a hand on the back of your neck and started wildly bucking into you. You almost screamed from the intensity, already feeling your legs turning to jelly, making it harder to hold yourself up.

Desperately needing to come, you tried to push a hand down to rub your clit, but he twisted your arm behind your back and pinned it there. “If you want to touch my property, you fucking ask.” He growled, his voice only making you needier.

“Please let me come, Emmett.” You whimpered. He lifted his hand from your neck and brought it down hard on your ass, making you cry out. Without giving any other response, he grabbed your hip as his thrusts grew even more frantic. You could tell he was getting close, especially with the way his sounds started getting louder, and you almost cried at the thought of not getting to come. But… the thought of being nothing more than a submissive housewife and a hole for your husband to use was hot enough that you almost didn’t care.

You mewled and squirmed a little, making his grip on your body tighten even more. “Please.” You gasped out. His balls were just barely smacking your clit with each thrust, not giving you nearly enough stimulation. Both hands were on your hips now as he bucked into you at a brutal pace, chasing his orgasm. The slapping of skin and both of your moans echoed throughout the kitchen and if you were less horny, you probably would’ve been embarrassed by the faint squelching sound you could hear as your arousal continued to soak his cock.

His hips stuttered and you whined when he suddenly slammed into you, pushing you into the counter almost painfully as he fell over the edge. Your legs were shaking with each pump of his hips as he lazily fucked his load deep inside your eager pussy. He was grunting and panting against your neck, holding your hips in a bruising grip until he rode out his orgasm completely.

“Good girl.” He groaned breathily, making you whine again. Only after he caught his breath did he lean up and slowly drag his hips back, making the trembling of your legs even worse. He kicked your feet apart and grabbed your ass to pull you open so he could watch his come trickle out of your puffy folds.

“Emmett.” You whimpered, but all he did was shush you quietly. Your hips flinched when he dragged his thumb through your slit and he cursed under his breath at the sight of you leaking his come.

“Oh, look at that.” He cooed, making you blush. “This is how you should’ve gone out today; wearing this slutty little dress with my come dripping down your thighs to remind you who you belong to.” He gruffed.

“Emmett, please.” You were on the verge of a tantrum now.

“Shh… It’s okay.” He murmured quietly, standing back up. He pulled you up by your hair and spun you around, then captured your lips in a bruising kiss. “Is my good girl gonna let me have my dessert now?” You nodded dumbly, not really processing his words because you just hoped that agreeing to whatever he said would get him to finally give you some much needed relief. He smirked in amusement, then effortlessly lifted you up so your legs were around his hips, letting him carry you over to the table and gently set you down on it.

Kneeling between your legs, he wasted no time diving in and sucking on your clit, making you cry out. Your hands settled in his hair and he alternated between lapping up your shared arousal and giving attention to your clit. When he draped your legs over his shoulders and then pulled you closer, you moaned loudly and laid down on the table, your back arching up from the pleasure. Emmett let out a low, gravelly moan against you, making you mewl and tug on his hair even harder.

“Fuck— Please don’t stop..” You choked out. He devoured you like a man starved, quickly bringing you back to the edge with his enthusiasm. The loud slurping sounds that you could hear through your moans, had you blushing and whining in embarrassment.

Your legs were trembling on either side of his head, the coil in your stomach was tightening, your moans were getting louder… and Emmett just held your hips down, continuing on, not deterred by any of your reactions.

“Please let me come.” You whimpered, moaning loudly when he sucked on your clit repeatedly. His lack of a response only made you even more frustrated. Emmett was a little unpredictable about letting you come. Sometimes he didn’t care, but sometimes he could be really controlling over your orgasm, only letting you come after he gave you permission. Ever since the first time you came without permission, you’ve always been hesitant, not wanting to risk being punished. “Emmett, please!”

He chuckled against you, making your hips jerk against his mouth. “Come.” He mumbled, not bothering to pause or pull away so he could talk. When you finally got his permission, you let the pleasure wash over you, no longer trying to suppress it. The knot of arousal in your stomach snapped suddenly and you sobbed out a moan as your back arched off the table. You had a death grip on Emmett’s hair and your hips were practically grinding on his face, but he worked you through it, not stopping until you were twitching and whining from overstimulation.

“Good girl.” He groaned, placing one last kiss on your clit. “C’mere, doll.” He helped pull you up into a seated position, then kissed you again, much softer this time. You moaned at the taste of yourself still on his tongue. “Fuck, I love you.” He muttered into the kiss, making you blush a little. “But the next time you go out wearing this dress without my come dripping down your thighs, you won’t be coming for a week.”

Guys pls give me ideas for a different title lol

#emmett a quiet place #emmett x you #emmett x reader smut #emmett x reader #emmett smut #Emmett x wife!reader

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 8 months ago

Text

SAVIOUR

Pairing - Emmett x fem!reader

Summary - When Emmett had the chance of seeing you in the forest, he couldn't resist but to steal you away for himself in his lonely home.

Warnings - dub con, p in v, oral both receiving, cruel treatment, rough.

Notes - accidentally deleted the original post, so here we go again.

The silver lining with this apocalypse is that Emmett would have no distress with you making a noise as he motions you to keep on moving. Your body is shivering, eyes swelling, bare feet aching from the long journey, but you don’t dare to make a sound. The fear of the death angels still being greater than a mere bearded man.

Despite being kidnapped in broad daylight, it was a beautiful day. The beauty of this difficult situation was, Emmett could walk into your camp, holding a gun to the air with one hand, and his free hand pointing towards you without any worries. There were no negotiations in the matter, Emmett was the only one with a death wish. No followers or you all get to die an agonizing death. Because he has lost it all, but now he could have you. It was an easy guess with what the group had decided upon.

He first saw you through his scope, you and a few other group members were searching for supplies in the same area he was. Emmett became captivated by you the moment he saw you. He stalked you back to your base, there were only a dozen of you guys in an abandoned factory far north of his. He watched you for days, studied you, obsessed over you.

There were little things Emmett knew of you, but you seemed kind, genuine, naive and you were bewitching to the human eye. Emmett just had to have you, he lived a lonely life, but you provided an opportunity for comfort, contentment, intimacy.

Entering the factory, your eyes wander around the abandoned space. Emmett picked you up bridal style, and you slid down into his bunker, landing softly on a large pile of sandbags.

You laid still on him for a moment, he was stroking your flustered cheek as you struggled to find steady breathing. Gently, Emmett slid out from underneath you and stood up to take off his jacket. Laying like a dead fish, you decided to stand up and hopefully bargain with the stranger.

“Please, let me go home,” you pleaded in a whisper. You weren’t sure how safe it was to speak down here, but it had just become natural to speak at this sound. Emmett turned to you, slowly taking his bandana off, revealing his bearded, dirty face.

Very naive of you, perhaps a bit too hopeful too, to think that he’d have a sudden change of heart now after that long walk. But you had no clue how obsessed he had become over you in such a short amount of time, and with such little knowledge of you.

“This is your home now” he replied, closing the distance between you two, he brushed your loose hair with the back of his hand. “What’s your name?” Emmett asked. With a whisper, you told him your name, it was smarter to cooperate with him, maybe gain a bit of trust? “Pretty name for a pretty girl, I’m Emmett” he whispered back, his arms wrapped around your lower back.

You could feel his erection through the denim, his breathing was heavy yet quiet, quickly you found yourself shaking and whimpering against him. Emmett cooed you, rubbing your lower back in attempts to make yourself feel better, completely unaware that he’s the reason you feel so overwhelmed.

“I’m going to take care of you, okay? I’ll protect you, all you have to do is please me, baby” Emmett had a small smile on his lips, he leant down and kissed your cheek, which trailed down to your neck.

It was a good deal in his eyes, he’d protect you from the monstrosity once known as humanity and all you had to do was cheer, reassure and relieve him. It would be a romantic future in his eyes, you could read to one another, he’d search for rations and then you’d do the cooking, hold each other closely at night.

Your sobs were silent, his facial hair brushing against your goosebumps. Emmett took off his cap and dropped it onto the sandbags. His lips hovered over yours, almost as if he was waiting for you to close the small distance.

Grazing his lips onto yours, he slowly deepened the kiss, his hands moving onto your ass, squeezing tightly. Chest rising and falling, Emmett was groaning into your mouth through sloppy kisses. He was hungry like an animal, and you were to be an endless feast for him.

“On your knees” Emmett ordered.

Unwillingly, you slowly dropped to your knees, his hands on his shoulders pushing you down, your arms covered your chest and you kept your eyesight away from the restrained bulge in your face. Emmett sighed, his rough hands took their time unbuckling the leather belt, he undid his fly and slid down his jeans enough to be able to see the outline of his cock through his briefs.

Grabbing onto his bulge, Emmett stared you up and down, clicking his tongue. “Take off your top” he grumbled, combing his hand through his oily hair. Without thinking, you shook your head. Emmett grunted, quickly squatting down and wrapping his hand around your throat. Your nails dug into his hand, but he did not loosen his grip. “You’ll be a good girl, I did not go through all of this fucking effort to have you be a brat, got it?” Emmett snarled by your ear, you were trying to spit out words but failed. “Use your fucking words” his voice was dripping of irritation.

“Y-yes” you managed to spit out.

The hold on your throat loosened, Emmett gave a heavy sigh. “Good girl, such a good girl for me. You’re thankful for me, yeah? Saving you from them. If they really cared, they would have done something about it. They’d be willing to die for you, like I am” he spoke with dark eyes.

It was terrifying, his look was painted with crazed feelings. Emmett stood back up and waited for you to follow his previous order. With shaking hands, you pulled your top from over your head. But that didn’t satisfy Emmett, he glared at you until you realized he wanted you to take your bra off as well.

The cold air hardened your nipples, and Emmett studied your current appearance. There was this smug look on his face, this is exactly why he went these lengths for you. Slipping his size out of his briefs, his cock tapped your right cheek a couple of times, he was slowly masterbating right by your lips.

You didn’t expect him to be this, large. It was intimidating, being in such close range to his member. You’ve only known him for a few hours, and now he had his dick in your face. His cock was a tone darker than the rest of his skin, he had a lot of pubic hair around the base of his member, for obvious reasons.

It was self explanatory what was expected of you, you raised your hands and stroked his big size. He let out a satisfied sigh, your hands going right down to the base and coming back up to the head. Reluctantly, your lips hovered over the tip. You could see the precum drip, you had to close your eyes to swirl your tongue around his tip, slowly going deeper down his length.

“Ah, ah, yeah… Such a good girl” Emmett smiled, gently thrusting his member in and out of your mouth. “Nothing better for your mouth to do, then to please my cock” his eyes were lightly rolling back.

After a couple of minutes of gentle sucking, Emmett started to force his cock into your mouth, his tip brushing against the back of your throat. You gagged against him, resisting the urge to bite down on him, he was lightly grunting, mumbling words under his breath with his jaw clenched, watching you below him as you struggled to breathe.

Holding onto the back of his legs for support, he held the back of your head to keep you still. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth, eyes stinging as you just tried to focus on your breathing. After what felt like an eternity of pain, he grumbled, his hips locked forward as he came in your mouth.

Trying your hardest not to react to the salty taste, Emmett slowly pulled him out of your mouth, your jaw aching and tears running down your eyes. Gently stroking his cock, Emmett looked down to you and placed his hand softly on your heated cheek.

“That was lovely” Emmett slowly praised you. He helped you up and picked you off the ground.“You deserve to feel special too” Emmett continued, walking down the bunker.

Emmett laid you on the singular bed and tugged your pants and underwear off together, he pulled his soiled shirt off and crawled on top of you. He smelt lightly of body odor, his breath was hot by your ear and chest felt moist from the sweat. Elbows resting on either side of your head, he gave you a gentle kiss, you didn’t kiss him back.

“Don’t be so stiff” Emmett grunted, quickly you kissed him back.

His hand trailed over your inner thighs, reaching all the way up to your entrance, you hadn’t even realized how wet you had become. A wicked grin grew on him as he parted your slick lips with two fingers.

“Ugh, is this because of me?” Emmett toyed, his finger circling around your clit, you took in a heavy breath, trying to remain content underneath your assaulter. “Don’t make me feel so special” Emmett clicked his tongue, feeling up your breast with his spare hand.

Without letting you know, he pushed in two fingers at once, chuckling at the tight feeling against them. You bit back a cry of pain, his nails were poorly trimmed, they scraped against your soft walls as they curled inside of you, Emmett noticed your uncomfortable expression and pulled his fingers out.

“What’s wrong baby?” Emmett asked, actually sounding concerned about you.

“It hurts” you said honestly, a part of you wondered if you should have just lied instead. Emmett looked at his soaked nails and sighed.

“Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart, I’ll have to trim them better. Here, I have an easy solution” he winked to you as if you wanted to be in this predicament.

Emmett whispered sweet words as he slid down the bed. He was on his knees, bent over, his beard brushing against your entrance. You shrieked at the first lick, Emmett’s head shot up and he pressed his finger to his mouth. With a heavy gulp, you dug your face into the pillow. His tongue swirled all around your lips, you were moaning against the pillow, and it still wasn’t quiet enough for Emmett’s likings, even though Emmett wants nothing more than to hear your screams, he didn’t exactly what you two to die horrible deaths before he could make you come.

Emmett sighed and got up, you looked up to him, your eyebrows furrowed as he crawled on top of you, his exposed cock inches away from your mouth. Twirling himself around, Emmett lowered his body closer to yours, he moved his sticky member away from your mouth, allowing his balls to easily slip into your mouth. He gripped onto your thighs and pressed his head into your cunt.

Your moans vibrated around his balls, making his cock twitch, your head was locked in between his still covered legs, the denim rubbing against your ears. It wasn’t hard for him to get you already onto the edge. His tongue was deep inside of you, being pulsated by your walls. Emmett was groaning into your cunt, your eyes all swelled up by your orgasm desperately begging to break free. With one last deep push, your cunt clenched around his tongue for dear life as your loud moans of pleasure were blocked by his balls.

With shaking legs, your orgasm wore off, slurring with your mouth still full. Pulling his head away, his beard was soaked in your juices. Emmett sighed as he softly climbed off of you, just to turn himself back around and pin you down, hands above your head. Your eyes were tired, breathing slow and heavy as he aligned his tip with your entrance. It took you a moment to even realize that this wasn’t over yet.

He covered your mouth with his hand as he pushed himself inside of you, it only took a couple of thrusts until he was completely inside of you, he was mumbling by your ear as his pace slowly picked up.

“Such a good little girl for me” he smiled, his beard brushing against your flustered cheeks. “See why I had to save you? I can take care of you baby, fulfill your needs, just like you can fulfill mine” he smiled like a cheshire cat.

You were whining against his size, you’ve never been with someone so big before, his cock was twitching inside of you. Emmett wouldn’t be able to last as long as he’d want to, it’s been so long since he’s felt such an intimate touch. But he had to be able to make you come again before he’d allow himself to explode inside of you.

Moaning your name by your ear over and over again, he started attacking your bundle of nerves by thrusting at a quick and strong speed. You were clenching against him, eyes rolling back as you struggled to breathe, the side of his index finger pressing up against your nostrils.

“My sweet thing needs to come again?” Emmett moaned, his mouth wide open as he stared into your teary eyes. “Come around my cock, make me feel good aye?” Emmett ordered, his finger rubbing your clit perfectly.

Shortly after that, you followed his demand and clenched tightly around his size. It sent vibrations down his length, right to his base. With a few more heavy thrusts, he exploded right down your womb. A heavy groan echoing through the room. His head was in the crook of your neck, planting wet kisses on your skin.

Burying his cock all the way up to your cervix, his substance coated your walls, his base blocking anything to drip out of your entrance. Emmett was groaning quietly, slowly removing his moist hand from your mouth.

You took a deep breath, the back of your head pressing into the mattress, Emmett raised his head and gave you gentle kisses among your face as you dozed off to sleep, with him still buried inside of you.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #smut #emmett a quiet place #emmett x you #emmett x reader #a quiet place part 2

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago

Text

𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗻 | joel miller x reader x emmett

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | the last thing you wanted to do was make emmett jealous, or question your loyalty to him; but as it turns out, he may be a little more supportive than you expected when he catches you looking at joel miller.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 7.1k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut - 18+ only (threesome, established relationship, sharing/hotwife kink, daddy kink, oral m and f receiving, anal and DP, creampie, light choking, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, some very gentle/mild degradation, tons and tons of praise), implied age gap (not specified, obviously reader is an adult), takes place in the last of us universe but pretty much porn without plot lol so don't overthink it

In the last year of traveling with Emmett, you’d mostly avoided the QZs. He said that the people there were cheats and liars at best— and that’s to say nothing of the corrupt military leaders that actually ran the place. However, desperation puts people into positions they never expected to be.

After all, you would’ve never imagined being with a man like him, though in this case you meant it in a good way— that you never thought someone as brave and resourceful as him would want somebody like you.

But, that said, you made yourself useful when you could. The best thing you could offer was your medical knowledge, and you were always the one tending to Emmett after injuries or illness. Still, he promised that he loved you for who you were, not what you could do for him. He was shockingly gentle, and passionate, especially for someone who had been forced to be rather ruthless to survive in this new world.

So, while you had been avoiding the quarantined areas and sticking to abandoned strips of forest and city, a lack of food out there forced you to venture to Boston— or, what was left of it.

Fortunately, you'd found more hospitality here than you expected. Maybe it was just pity— and wanting some more of that ammo Emmett had sold him— but a man named Joel Miller had given you a place to stay and helped you earn some rations here so you could finally eat. He reminded you of Emmett in some ways: stoic, hardworking, and generous beneath that hardened exterior. But Emmett had become much more sensitive and open with you in your time together, and Joel was all but a stranger. Sometimes he was so stern that he almost seemed irritated with you, but he kept letting you and Emmett stay, so he must not have been too annoyed by you.

And, you helped him how you could— like when he was in yours and Emmett’s room, sitting in the chair and talking to Emmett about something to do with tomorrow’s open jobs, and you noticed a cut across his palm.

“I-I can help with that,” you offered softly, motioning to the injury. “Do you want me to bandage it for you?”

“It’s not that bad,” Joel shook his head.

“It’s easier to clean it now than worry about an infection later,” you reminded him.

Though he seemed a little tense, glancing at Emmett for a moment, he relented with a nod. You smiled lightly as you stepped forward and knelt by Joel’s feet, picking up his hand and examining the cut.

Once you figured what it needed, you quickly hopped up to rifle through your bag, bringing back a disinfectant wipe and a roll of gauze. Holding his hand open— and feeling a little flustered from touching his warm, rough skin— you carefully wiped up the cut. “Does it hurt at all?” you asked him.

“Not too bad,” he replied lowly.

“You should see Emmett when I’ve gotta wrap him up,” you giggled, “he always acts like what I’m doing hurts more than when he actually got the injury in the first place.”

“Hey,” Emmett warned you in a stern voice, but you smiled up at Joel who returned with a small smirk.

“Alright, all better,” you hummed as you finished bandaging Joel. “Let me know if it’s hurting you too much, that’s a bad sign. Don’t just ignore it and act tough, okay?”

Joel seemed a little uncomfortable— if not sort of amused by— taking orders from you, but he nodded. “I’ll let y’all get to bed now,” he decided as he stood up. “Sleep well. Lot of work to be done in the morning.”

“G’night,” Emmett offered him with a nod.

You felt a little strange, him standing up fully while you were still on your knees on the floor. “Goodnight, Joel,” you said, your voice sounding sweeter and girlier than you intended. Your face felt warm— you worried Emmett had noticed the change in your voice, too, but would he think much of it if he had?

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything about it that night, simply pulling you close when you got into bed, burying his face in your neck.

But the next night, that was a different story. You weren’t actually going to sleep yet, even though it was late enough for it— he’d already changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants, while you were still in your dress, but he’d laid back on top of the sheets and patted the bed, silently asking you to join him. You smiled and obeyed, of course, leaving the lamp on as you slipped in by his side.

Emmett held you gently, rubbing your back as you laid your head on his chest. “You’re not too tired, are you?” he asked quietly.

For what? you wondered, but just shook your head instead.

“We can stay up a little longer,” he decided. “Didn’t get a chance to hold you all day.”

“Yeah,” you sighed wistfully, nuzzling in more as you squeezed his torso a bit.

“Or talk to you much,” he continued.

“Was there something you wanted to talk about?” you asked, looking up at him from your head’s happy place on his shoulder.

“Just something I noticed,” Emmett replied, looking back at you sweetly as he brushed your hair aside with his fingers. "I think you've got a crush on Joel."

You froze, face getting warm in an instant. "I-I only want you, Emmett, I swear— you know I would never—"

"Shh, shh," he soothed as he chuckled a little, "it's okay, baby. I'm not angry with you… you're not doin' anything wrong."

"Really?" you asked nervously, and he nodded. "I thought you might be jealous…"

He shook his head and laughed a little.

"I-I just think he's handsome," you explained, "and sort of nice— but that's really it!"

"It's alright, baby," he purred, "cause you know something? I was talking to him earlier today, and he wants you too."

Your sat up and your eyes went wide as you tried to imagine that conversation. You could hardly believe that that was true, let alone that Joel has admitted it to Emmett… or had Joel approached Emmett about it, asking for a night with you? Oh god, your head already hurt trying to wrap itself around this…

"I know how hard it is to keep a naughty little thing like you satisfied," Emmett explained with a smirk, sitting up with you and speaking softly beside your ear. “I'm willing to bring in a little… outside help."

Just then, the door opened slowly and Joel stepped inside. You watched him, totally unsure how to feel, as he shut the door behind himself, and then his eyes met yours.

"C'mere," Emmett offered to Joel, patting the bed beside you two. "No need to be shy, Miller."

You watched as Joel took a seat on the bed, and you looked at Emmett as you lowered your voice. "You don't have to do this for me," you promised him softly. "You know I love you— I only need you—"

"It's okay," he soothed as he pet your face. "I told you, I'm not angry. I want you to do this."

"You… want me to?"

"If you want it," Emmett replied.

You shivered as Joel leaned forward a bit, reaching out to gently rub up and down your leg. "What do you think, princess?" he asked softly. "Don't worry, you're not gonna hurt my feelings if you say you don't wanna—"

"I want to," you admitted quickly, afraid to lose your courage if you waited any longer to say it.

Both men smiled at you as you looked back and forth between them; Joel's warm brown eyes against Emmett's steely blue ones… they were so similar, and so opposite, in so many impossible ways.

Without saying anything, Joel suddenly lifted your chin and guided you into a kiss.

You felt strange kissing someone other than Emmett, something you hadn't done in quite some time. Joel's lips weren't as soft as Emmett's, and his kiss wasn't as gentle; he moved his hand to the back of your neck to hold you close, gently pressing his tongue into your mouth. It wasn't too aggressive or anything, but it was certainly quite forward. Emmett's hands were still on you, gently rubbing your back, and you reached back to find and hold one just as your other arm wrapped around Joel's broad shoulders.

Joel made you gasp by breaking away to kiss at your neck instead; you squeezed Emmett's hand slightly. "Fuck, she sounds so pretty," Joel noticed when you moaned at his teeth teasing your pulse.

"Yeah," Emmett agreed. "She can get loud, too, so let's just hope she doesn't wake anybody up…"

Joel pulled your hand away from Emmett's and guided it to the bulge in his jeans; you sighed as you felt it, a hot feeling stirring in your chest. "See how you got me all worked up already?" he scolded you playfully. "C'mon and take it out for me."

Your hands were shaking more than you realized when you brought them to unfasten his belt… it felt new, and exhilarating, and a little scary as well, to be with someone new after so long. But you remembered when it was new with Emmett and it felt like this, exciting and weird and wonderful all at the same time. But you'd known Emmett longer before anything happened between you— you'd only met Joel a few days ago.

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose when you reached into his boxers and wrapped your fingers around his erection. It was so hot to the touch, you were worried your fingers felt cold to him, but he didn't seem to mind much. You shuddered as you released it from the fabric, your mouth falling slack and your hand instinctively beginning to stroke it gently.

Joel's cock wasn't as long as Emmett's, but it was thicker, with a slight curve to one side. Regardless of exactly what it looked like, you were just amazed to see and stroke another cock but Emmett's— it had been so long, and you hadn't been with all too many people before Emmett anyways.

"Show him what you can do, baby," Emmett encouraged in a low voice, and you nodded as you leaned down to capture Joel's cock between your lips.

He hummed as you licked and sucked the tip, swirling your tongue over the head. But he groaned aloud when you dipped lower and took as much as you could into your mouth, letting the tip of his cock bump into the back of your throat.

Then you set your pace, hollowing your cheeks and slowly moving up and down on his length. Your jaw ached slightly already and you'd only just started.

You felt Joel's hand on the back of your head, not pushing you down but just guiding you in your movements.

"Mm," Joel praised with a grunt. "Your girl's got a sweet fuckin' mouth, Emmett…"

"Yeah," he agreed, "and she loves using it— gets her so wet, feel it."

You whimpered slightly as Joel reached back over you and pulled up your dress, slipping a hand inside your panties. His fingers curled through your lips, even toying with your swollen clit for a moment, and you moaned around the thick cock in your mouth.

"Damn," Joel chuckled, "she's soaked."

You broke away from Joel and turned around, looking at Emmett expectantly as you sat on the bed. "Can I suck you too? Please?"

Joel chuckled a little as Emmett nodded, letting you pull his pajama pants down as his hard cock bounced free. It was nice to get back to what you knew for a moment, and you didn't hesitate at all to take hold of him and lick a long stripe up his shaft.

Joel took the opportunity while you were facing away from him to toss up your dress and pull your panties down; he purred at the way the fabric stuck to your pussy, peeling off slowly with all the wetness there. "Fuckin' gorgeous," Joel groaned as he got a good look at it.

Two thick fingers rubbed over your clit until your toes curled; putting your head down in Emmett's lap to suck him sort of forced your hips up, nearly at eye-level with Joel, and feeling him explore you so gently made you feel exposed in the best way.

He slid one finger into your hole, just one, and you clenched down on him. "Damn," Joel groaned. "I don't know how you find the energy to do anything but fill this pretty little pussy of hers, Emmett."

But Emmett wasn't really paying attention to him— he was watching you with heavy eyes and a slack mouth, petting your hair as you bobbed your head on his cock.

"Just like that," Emmett praised you quietly. When you moaned around him in response, it turned into a muffled cry as Joel suddenly took his finger out of you and replaced it with his tongue. His hands held your ass and kept you spread wide for him, burying his face in your pussy and tasting everything his tongue could reach… which was a lot. Your whole body quivered when he licked a long stripe up from the base of your clit all the way up, higher and higher, even running over that hole as you shuddered.

Your moans vibrated through Emmett's cock and his hand in your hair tightened into a fist and tugged on you a bit. "Fuck," Joel moaned against your soaking folds, "tastes even better than it looks."

"Feels even better than it tastes," Emmett promised with a smile, though he snarled as he pulled your head off of him by your hair and guided you into a rough, dominating kiss. He all but threw you back towards Joel, and you were sort of dazed and moving on instinct as Joel turned you around to face him.

But as you leaned down to suck Joel's cock again, he stopped you with a hand around your neck. "Taste yourself first," he ordered before he kissed you, diving his tongue right into your open mouth as you whined at the tangy flavor of your arousal coating his lips.

He pulled you back from the kiss with a growl, holding your hair and examining your face— you must have looked fucked out already, panting through your mouth and looking at him as you waited for your next instruction.

“Was she always this desperate?” Joel asked Emmett, though he was still looking at you. “Or did you train her?”

“A little of column A, a little of column B,” Emmett replied with a light chuckle.

He shoved your head back down into his lap, guiding his cock to your waiting lips and groaning when you swallowed it down. “Good fucking girl,” he praised. “So fuckin’ dirty— damn, that tongue…”

You gagged harder on Joel’s cock when you felt Emmett toying with your clit, teasing you with slow and delicate circles that made your toes curl. “Wanna fuck her?” Emmett asked Joel simply; your hole pulsed in anticipation. The way they talked over you, like you weren’t even there, was sort of irritating: but it made you so desperate, and you couldn’t even figure out why.

Joel just laughed. “Are you kidding?” he wondered.

It was Emmett’s hand that pulled you off of Joel’s cock, but Joel grabbed your neck— not too tightly, just enough to make you let a whimper out of your open mouth— and flared his nostrils as he stared closely at your face.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he ordered firmly, and you nodded right away. They both let you go and you took the position, feeling a little shy again suddenly— like you had any right to be shy now. You faced Emmett, your hands on either side of his lap as he sat up on the bed, and he reached up to hold your face as you heard Joel get up and kneel behind you.

He teased you by running the head through your folds a few times, your lip catching between your teeth as the tip bumped against your swollen clit. Emmett studied your face closely, watching your mouth go slack and your brows knit together as Joel pushed just barely inside you.

And then you cried out, far too loud, because he shoved the rest of the way in at once. "Shit," Joel hissed, "fuckin' tight little thing. Fuck."

You could feel his gaze on your hole, no doubt watching himself split you open so wide, when his hands spread your ass open again for a better view.

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy,” Joel awarded it with a sigh. “Fuck, feel how good you fuckin’ take that? Feel how easy this big cock slides right into ya? Such a sweet little girl…”

Easy was one way to describe it— and yes, you were wet enough that he hardly had any resistance— but it felt like too much to really be easy. You fluttered your eyes open, not even noticing that you’d shut them, and found Emmett’s gaze still on you. How was it possible that he was looking at you with so much pride in his eyes? You bit your lip and returned his stare, whimpering each time Joel thrusted roughly into you.

"How's it feel, baby?" Emmett asked you as he gently stroked your cheek.

You choked a little, not sure you could find the words for it. "Different," you managed to blurt out, and both men chuckled a little.

"Yeah, bet it is different," Joel agreed, "don't think I'm gonna be as sweet with'ya as your old man here usually is."

Well, fair enough: Joel wasn't in love with you, so why should he treat you the same? Actually, your thighs shook a little as you thought about that… Joel just wanted to use you, fuck you like a toy and toss you back to Emmett when he was done. It should've been demeaning, but it made your back arch a little deeper.

"Yeah, fuck," Joel praised, "she likes that. Wants me to fuck her harder, I can tell."

“Then do it,” Emmett instructed him.

Joel gripped your hips tightly and slammed into you, making you choke on your own cry. “F-fuck—” you stammered, suddenly gripping Emmett’s shoulders for stability.

“God,” Joel choked behind you; you could feel the bandage you’d given him as his hands held onto your hips, keeping you steady so he could pump into you as hard and fast as he liked.

You whined and dropped your head on Emmett’s shoulder, hearing him gently soothe you as each thrust rocked you forward into him. “Takin’ it so well,” he praised softly, “that’s my girl…”

Emmett started to push your dress down your arms and chest, exposing your tits for his big hands to rub slowly; Joel reached around and felt them too— and four hands on you felt like more than you could keep track of. A hand running up your thighs, squeezing your ass, teasing your tits, even wrapping around your throat and threatening to tighten… you were overwhelmed, in the best way.

"God, she's so perfect," Joel breathed. "Can't believe you let me borrow her."

"Just don't come inside her," Emmett instructed, "that's just for me."

"Fuck, I don't mind," Joel grunted, "think I'll like painting that pretty face…"

“She swallows, too,” Emmett smiled, “if you like that.”

“Like it? Fuck,” Joel laughed, “that’s fucking hot.”

“E-Emmett,” you whimpered in protest, “I never… I’ve never done that for anybody but you…”

“Well, it’s not so different for anybody else,” Emmett assured you with a chuckle. “You’ll swallow his come if I tell you to, won’tcha?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Good girl.”

That was all you really wanted— to be good for him. And you felt your chest fill with pride knowing he was happy with you now, even if you’d never expected this to make him happy. He could be very protective of you, and you assumed he would never want another man to lay a hand on you— he’d killed men for less, actually. But you realized that there was a massive difference: those men had threatened to hurt you, had scared you, had tried to take you from him. Joel was the first man other than Emmett that you’d trusted, let alone shown any interest in. Emmett was too busy fighting off creeps to mention that he didn’t actually mind good guys getting a chance with you, apparently.

Joel kneaded a handful of your ass roughly, and you whimpered when you felt one of his fingertips start to rub gently against your other hole. “What about this hole?” he asked with a groan. “This just for you, too?”

Emmett grinned a bit. “She’s only done that a few times… what do you think, baby, wanna let Joel try your ass?”

It was already quite an ordeal to get Emmett to fit in there, and you whined just imagining Joel trying to fit that thick cock in your ass— “Oh my god, she just got so fucking wet,” Joel noticed. Clearly, imagining it was having some effect on you. “Think she wants it— don’t ya, sweet girl?”

Though your cheeks burned with shame, you nodded, and both men chuckled darkly. “Warm her up first,” Emmett suggested.

“Of course,” Joel agreed, “wouldn’t wanna break your toy.”

You moaned just from him saying that, before he’d even started to gently press his finger inside you. He spit right down onto it as he slid the digit inside, making you clench around him— both ways. He hummed lowly, twisting and curling the finger into you, still fucking your pussy (though slower than before, thank god).

You gasped as a second finger carefully slid in, almost pushing you too far and making you wince slightly— but Emmett soothed you and kissed the side of your face, rubbing your back to help keep you relaxed. “You can take it,” Emmett promised, “be my good girl, okay? Let him get you ready.”

You nodded and clung tighter to Emmett, moaning when Joel twisted his fingers around and even curled them a bit inside you. “Not too much, is it?” Joel wondered when you whined loudly.

“No, she’s tougher than she looks,” Emmett answered— you sort of thought that question was for you, but you were too desperate to answer properly anyways.

Joel could pump those fingers in and out of you now, picking up the pace slightly to match the way he thrust his cock into your cunt, but when he tried to spread them a little wider he didn’t have much luck. “Still too tight, I think,” Joel noticed with a laugh. “Y’sure she can get stretched out enough for it?”

“Yeah,” Emmett promised, “I can help, hold on—”

He brought two fingers to your open mouth; you sucked on them instinctively, shutting your eyes and moving your head forward to swallow them as deep as you could. What Joel said before suddenly made sense— he really did have you trained.

You bobbed and suckled on Emmett’s long fingers, hearing him whisper his praises to you before he suddenly pulled them out— your open mouth chased after them for a second, and Joel seemed to notice with a small, condescending laugh— and reached over your back, pushing the slick fingers into your hole right beside Joel’s.

“Fuck!” you yelped at the feeling, legs shaking as you realized you’d never been this full: a cock and four fingers, it was more than you’d ever imagined.

Joel groaned a little, picking up the pace of his thrusts into your pussy again, and you did your best to breathe steady as those fingers pumped in and out of you. You couldn’t deny the way it turned you on— none of you could, you could hear it as Joel fucked you slowly. “She’s fuckin’ dripping, Emmett,” Joel noticed with a sigh, “she really likes this little ass played with, huh?”

Emmett laughed and nodded in agreement. “She likes doing what she’s told,” he clarified.

“Such a good little slut,” Joel praised, and you whimpered before Emmett kissed you again.

They continued that way until you worried you’d start begging for a cock in your ass if they made you wait anymore— thankfully, they didn’t make you embarrass yourself like that, Emmett felt with his fingers and saw in your eyes that you were ready. Pulling his fingers out of you, he glanced at Joel behind you: “Go ahead,” he offered simply.

Joel’s fingers left your ass, too, and you felt empty there but different— when his cock slipped from your cunt, you gasped a little at having nothing inside you for the first time in a while, and you glanced back at him. “Yeah,” Joel encouraged, “keep lookin’ back at me while I put my cock in your ass.”

You felt a little awkward doing that, but you did it anyways, biting your lip as he met your gaze and lined up his thick head with your stretched ass. He was still soaked from being in your pussy, and your ass was pretty much dripping with spit now, so he didn’t have too much trouble pushing into your puckered hole— but it was still tight, and you still winced (but kept your eyes on him, of course).

Even with all that prep, you shuddered and whined as Joel slowly slid into your ass— he savored every inch, licking his lips and groaning as he stretched you wider and wider. He seemed to just get thicker, even at the very base of him, and your eyes rolled back when he was seated in you all the way. And then he punched his hips just that little bit more, apparently intent on burying himself in you as far as humanly possible; you gasped and hugged Emmett tighter, turning your head towards him again but shutting your eyes tight from the sting of the stretch.

“God fucking damn,” Joel moaned, digging his fingers into the skin of your hips, clearly trying to control himself. “Fuck, Emmett, you’ve really got yourself such a perfect little fucktoy— where’d you find her?”

Emmett smiled wide, stroking your hair and looking at your face— painted with filthy pleasure— tenderly. “She found me,” he answered. “Still got no fuckin’ idea how I got so lucky.”

Joel started to move, making you tighten your hands into weak fists, and set a careful pace that gave you some time to adjust… even if not quite as much as you would’ve wanted.

A sudden, sharp thrust nearly knocked you forward— thankfully Emmett was there to catch you— and you moaned loudly. Emmett laid down slightly, letting you lay on top of him and hide your face in his chest. “That’s my girl,” he praised quietly.

As Joel’s movements sped up a little more, he sighed, seeming to find a comfortable pace (for him, at least) as you forced yourself not to tense up: it didn’t hurt, but it was certainly an intense feeling, especially when you felt Joel’s heavy balls slap against your dripping pussy.

"This'll be better than coming on your face," Joel grinned. "Filling up this tight ass, fuck, you're so dirty, baby…"

You felt someone move your hips down a bit, changing the angle of it all, but you were too lost in it to even know who it was. Emmett kissed your neck, teeth teasing your pulse, and you whined— you would beg him to bite you and leave a mark that everyone could see, if you could speak at all right now.

Your legs ended up straddling Emmett’s lap, and you gasped when you felt his cock press against your pussy— you'd been too distracted to even notice him taking it out— and he cooed at you sweetly. "You can take both, right?" he asked quietly. "You've always got room for me, don't you?"

Though you were still intimidated by the idea, you nodded as you bit your lip.

"That's my girl," Emmett praised, grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto his cock.

You almost screamed at the feeling of being so full, digging your fingers into Emmett’s shoulders. He looked up at you with eager eyes, watching you struggle to take them both— but you eventually relaxed enough to sink down and fit them both to the hilt.

“Good fucking girl,” Joel praised with a groan, holding on tight to your hips as he started to move again slowly— as for Emmett, his hands moved from your waist to your head to guide you into a sloppy, needy kiss.

Your moans were loud yet weak, your shaky hands clutching at Emmett desperately as they both pumped into you. Joel seemed almost overwhelmed by it, too, leaning down over you, growling and biting at your neck and shoulder.

“F-fuck, dunno how long I can last like this,” Joel admitted, “so fucking tight…”

You jumped slightly when one of Joel's rough hands reached around your hips and slid down to your clit, rubbing at the bud until you jerked back from the sudden intense sensation.

"Just wanna feel you come first, princess," he explained with a purr.

“A-ah, fuck,” you whimpered, shaking all over as you tried to process all that you were feeling. They moved you around how they wanted you, and at some point Emmett was sitting up and holding you in his lap while Joel kept thrusting into your ass from behind while holding your shoulder— how were you supposed to keep track of all the anatomy of this, while you had two big cocks stretching you open and Joel’s rough, experienced fingers on your clit.

Emmett moaned against your skin as he kept sucking on your neck, meanwhile Joel was speaking gruffly by your ear, sending chills up your spine. “Can you come, princess?” he asked darkly. “‘Round both our cocks?”

“Yes,” you admitted in a gasp, “fuck— Emmett, can I come?”

He smiled against your neck; “Of course, babydoll,” he breathed. “Let’s show Joel how much you love bein’ fucked like a whore.”

You wrapped your arms around Emmett’s neck, dropping your head limply back on Joel’s shoulder as the feeling washed over you: you tightened up everywhere, inside and out, and they both groaned as they watched you give in to ecstasy. You weren’t even sure whose hands were where anymore, but they were everywhere, and even through your exhaustion you felt desperation guide your hips to move on their own— chasing an even higher pleasure.

“Fuck,” Joel grunted as he watched you go, his own thrusts getting faster and rougher. “Fuck, that’s so cute.”

You didn’t expect him to describe you like that in a time like this, and you whimpered as your walls flexed again. You could tell Joel was getting a little desperate himself, that bandaged hand giving your clit a break and holding your hip tightly instead. “Come in her ass, Joel,” Emmett ordered with a sigh, staring at your face with heavy eyes, “she’s ready.”

He did it pretty much instantly, groaning lowly and tossing his head back with a sharp breath in through his teeth; you felt him flexing, and it stretched your tighter hole even just that much more. You whined softly at the feeling, hearing distantly little praises from Emmett, and finally Joel finished and pulled out of you with a little hiss.

It was less of a relief than you expected— your ass was still stretched and sore, and Emmett was still so deep inside you… and then, a moment later, you felt that hot trickle out of your used hole. You felt filthy with Joel’s come running out of you like that, tickling your inner thigh as it dribbled down— but the way Emmett was looking at you seemed to remove any sense of shame you had left.

"God, look how beautiful you are," Emmett grunted as he guided you to move faster in his lap, "men just can't help it with you, can they? Bet every guy in this town wants you, bet they're all thinking about having you to themselves— but you're mine, huh? My girl?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, I'm yours— all yours, Emmett, always—"

"Gonna show Joel whose girl you are," Emmett promised with a growl. "Gonna get this pussy nice and full how you like it."

"Yes," you said again, a needy groan this time— the tip of his cock was hitting so deep inside you that you could hardly breathe, yet you only wanted more. "Yes, please, please— come in me, daddy."

"Damn," Joel laughed, "she is dirty."

Emmett grinned. "Only gets that way when she's real desperate. Needs her daddy's come so bad…"

“Please,” you begged shakily, feeling him pull you closer and start to buck his hips up into you faster; he was breathing roughly, quickly, and you knew that he was getting close, but he had a habit of holding back until he absolutely couldn’t take it anymore just so he could watch you like this for as long as possible.

Apparently unsatisfied with the speed and control he could reach with you on top of him, Emmett pushed you back down onto the bed, holding your legs and fucking you hard and fast— you cried out, arching your back as his hands slid up to hold your waist.

You gasped loudly when Joel unexpectedly leaned down and sucked on one of your tits; your back arched even further towards it, and you heard him moan against your skin as his tongue circled the hardened bud. Emmett's mouth suddenly found the other one, without his pace slowing down at all, and you could've screamed right then. You hadn't realized how sensitive they would be, and never in your life had you had both sucked on at once— it was so overwhelming, it was making jolts of white hot pleasure burst inside you, and fuck Emmett’s cock was filling you just right, hitting that perfect spot—

"I'm coming," you sobbed, "f-fuck, daddy, I'm coming—"

Emmett groaned loudly, his mouth falling slack around your breast as hot breaths fanned your skin. You felt him starting to flex inside you, and you moaned louder knowing he was filling you so deep. His grunts were in time with his deep, hard thrusts into you, and you went numb and tingly all over as the orgasm seemed to drain everything out of you.

Finally, he slowed to a stop, moving up to kiss you slow and sweet— both of you breathing heavily against each other, your shaky fingers reaching up to hold his face and run through his hair.

He broke away and sat up with a sigh; you wanted to kiss him longer, but you were too exhausted to even complain, simply relaxing against the bed and almost wincing when he pulled out of your sore cunt.

Emmett sat back and tugged your limp form up a bit, cradling you as he held your back to his chest. “Oh, look at that,” he whispered just beside your ear, reaching down to rub your thigh, “all’a my come running out of you… both holes nice and full just how you need… so fuckin’ pretty, baby, my pretty little girl…”

You just whimpered sleepily, soaking in the warmth of Emmett’s embrace.

"Why don't you taste her now, Joel?" Emmett suddenly offered him with a smirk.

Before you could process that idea, Emmett was holding your legs open while Joel dived down between them. You whimpered as Joel licked up through your folds, your whole body getting hot at the thought of Joel tasting you and Emmett. He really didn't mind doing that with another man's come? The idea that he might just be that insatiable for you…

He suddenly latched on to your clit and sucked hard, making you yelp and buck your hips— but Joel and Emmett were both holding onto you tight, keeping you steady as your body shook uncontrollably.

"Oh, that's it's," Emmett praised, "let him taste you, baby— let Joel lick that pretty pussy, okay?"

"F-fuck— s'really sensitive—" you choked out.

Emmett held you tighter, both hands groping your breasts and his fingertips gently toying with your nipples. “Bein’ so good for me,” he praised in a low, rough voice. “So fuckin’ pretty when you’re getting your pussy ate, babydoll— never get to appreciate it ‘cause I’m too busy doin’ it. But you look so fuckin’ cute like this…”

Your back arched, pushing your shoulders against Emmett's chest as he held you, and he trailed gentle kisses along your shoulder and up your neck.

"Gonna come, huh?" he noticed, pinching your nipples harder until you whined. "It's okay, baby, let Joel make you come. Just one more and you can rest…"

“C-can’t,” you choked, “can’t come anymore—”

“Shh, you can,” Emmett promised. “You can show Joel how good you are for me, huh? You can come when I tell you to.”

“Fuck,” you sobbed, grabbing onto Emmett’s hand tightly— though your other hand gripped a handful of Joel’s salt-and-pepper hair, making him look up at you with those dark brown eyes…

“Mhm, you can do it,” Emmett continued, squeezing your hand in encouragement. “Put your tongue inside her, Joel.”

You shuddered and quaked when Joel obeyed, the most filthy sounds filling the room while Joel lapped and sucked at your leaking pussy. Emmett’s hand— the one you weren’t holding onto for dear life— groped your tits roughly, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you buck your hips against Joel’s face, but Joel still had that iron-tight grip on your hips to keep you where he needed you.

Joel was moaning lowly against your skin, focusing his tongue attention back on your clit— from teasing little circles around it to hard, rough licks right over it. This time, when he went back to sucking on the nub harder than ever, you knew you couldn’t hold it back anymore. “Fuck, Joel!” you screamed, making him groan darkly again. “I’m gonna come!”

Emmett dragged his teeth over the shell of your ear, laughing softly yet wickedly. “You’re sayin’ his name now?” he noticed. “You’re not coming for him, baby, you’re coming for me. Because I told you to. Yes?”

“Yes, yes,” you promised, chanting it mindlessly. “Yours, Emmett— fuck, I’m yours, you know I am. Only yours.”

His hand moved from your breast to your face, turning it far enough to look at him— those eyes were boring into you, and you whimpered with your lip between your teeth as you hoped you hadn’t disappointed him. “Say it again,” he demanded.

“Yours,” you repeated as you looked into his eyes— even though your imminent orgasm made it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. “I’m yours, daddy.”

He grabbed your jaw and kissed you hard, his tongue keeping your mouth wide open; he swallowed every moan as you came, moaning himself like he could taste your pleasure in the kiss, holding your hand tighter than ever.

Joel kept eating you out even when your whole body was shaking, even when your weak little hand was trying to push his head away— he only stopped when Emmett’s hand joined yours, just one touch and Joel lifted his head and sighed.

Emmett guided your hand back up to his face, and you held it (with what little strength you had) as you kept kissing him… though the kiss changed, it went from rough and hungry to soft and slow and gentle.

He stopped kissing you just enough to speak, his thumb petting your cheek so you would open your eyes. “You did so good for me, babydoll,” he cooed under his breath.

Knowing you had finally done everything he wanted, you melted limply into Emmett’s arms, who chuckled a little at your exhaustion.

“Looks like you really wore her out, Miller.”

“You did, too,” Joel returned. “Besides, at that age, I’m guessin’ she’ll be raring to go again by the end of the hour.”

Emmett snorted. “I can get her begging in five minutes,” he countered.

“Please— m’too tired,” you whimpered, cuddling up tighter against Emmett— but his hand was already snaking up your thigh, teasing further between your legs.

“Too tired, huh?” he taunted quietly, petting closer to your sore pussy until your legs spread naturally to let him touch where he wanted. “Good girl.”

Two fingers delicately teased you, circling around your clit but never quit reaching it— until you were rocking your hips up to try to find some attention in the right spot.

When he did touch your clit, ever so gently, you shivered and mumbled his name; your eyes still closed, you hid your face in his neck and began to shamelessly rock against his fingers. He teased your opening, making it apparent how wet you still were, but never dipped inside no matter how hard you tried to tempt him to.

“Please,” you whispered, too desperate to feel guilty for it at all, “Emmett, I need—”

“Jesus,” Joel laughed, “didn’t take long at all, did it?”

“Nope,” Emmett agreed.

“So fuckin’ needy,” Joel groaned.

“Yep,” Emmett responded simply again. “Tell us what you need, babydoll…”

“I…I need…” you mumbled, face getting warm. “Need to be full…”

“With what?” Joel pressed.

“Um…” you stalled, nervous to admit it but knowing they wouldn’t rest until you did. “With a… a cock.”

Emmett snorted. “Any cock?” he wondered.

“W-well, I figured one of you two—”

They both laughed a little, and you felt silly but your walls tightened against themselves. “We’re not young like you, sweetpea— it’s not that easy,” Joel explained. “Gonna need a little more patience…”

“But— but you got me all worked up!” you whined. “You did that on purpose…”

“Yeah,” Emmett admitted with a purr, “yeah, baby, I did that on purpose.”

You pouted a bit. “You’re mean sometimes…”

“Mhm,” he agreed with a soft laugh, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Joel. “How long will it take you to get hard again?”

“Not that long,” Joel answered, “if she puts that mouth to good use.”

Emmett helped you sit up, patting your back encouragingly. “Go ahead, baby, you know what to do…”

As you crawled towards where Joel knelt on the bed, still totally dazed and exhausted, you realized that tonight was far from over— and that tonight may not be all that Emmett had in store for you.

#joel miller smut #emmett a quiet place smut #cillian murphy smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #cillian murphy x reader #joel miller x reader #emmett a quiet place x reader #WELP. this is filthy.

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kiss-me-cill-me · 11 months ago

Text

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***

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.”

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?"

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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