Krib

krib

helping hands

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Premise: That’s the thing about Joel — he is desperate for control. You don’t blame him, everyone is nowadays. But there are times, like tonight, that he needs something else.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: explicit sexual content, handjob, oral sex (m receiving), edging, orgasm denial, praise kink, sub!joel, dom!reader

Note: you can't expect to show me a moody, reluctant single dad and not write about him ok. i haven't played tlou, so this is based off the first episode of the show.

You learn early on that overthinking won’t do you any good. There is no place for that in this new world. Everyone and everything has been reduced to a single instinct: survive.

Joel taught you that.

“You wanna survive? Stop thinking. Just go. Or else that shit is gonna swallow you whole.”

Ironically, out of all the things to make you overthink, it’s Joel that makes your head spin. He told you he has no love left in him, that whatever is between the two of you is all physical. You accept it, there is no way to hide the horror etched in his face. You believe him, just not entirely. You still have hope that he has room in his heart. Maybe not for love, but for endearment. It’s not much, but you’ll take it.

Especially if it means having Joel Miller reduced to a moaning mess.

“You’re doing so well, Joel. Just hold on a little bit longer, okay?” You kiss his temple as he all but bucks into your touch. Your fingers wrap around his hard length, pumping and squeezing gently at the base of his cock until he nods, gasping.

You’ve been at this for far too long, moonlight traveling through the his shitty apartment above with graceful ease, as if the world hasn’t turned to shit. Joel is usually the one making you beg for release, but how can you deny him when he's like this?

There is a sweet ache between your legs that screams for attention, and surely, had he not been brought to the edge over and over again, he’d fill you with his cock until he you felt him in your throat.

But this isn’t about you.

This is about him and how he's wrapped up so tightly in his pain and anger that he can barely function. He is a mess of hard knots, so harshly coiled it leaves the rest of him in shreds.

He was so rigid when you stopped by, his jaw clenched so tightly you could taste blood in your kisses, but now those imaginary knots are starting to unravel. With every stroke and squeeze to his cock, he’s unwinding.

You hum sweet praise in his ear when his hand comes to your wrist, trying to hold onto you as his only leverage.

That’s the thing about Joel — he is desperate for control. You don’t blame him, everyone is nowadays. And you’re more than happy to give that to him. It's all for him. He craves control and you're willing to grant him it. But there are times, rare as they are, that he needs something else. You like to think you know him, and that tonight is a sort of attestation of that. It isn’t like every other night. He doesn’t need to bury himself deep into you until all you feel is him.

No, not this time. This time, he needs you to settle him.

You lay beside each other, your lips peppering his cheeks and chin and nose and lips and everywhere with kisses, and Joel looks just about ready to completely unwind. He gasps you name when you rub over the underside of him with a maddeningly slow motion.

“It’s okay, baby,” You assure, your hand sticky as your thumb comes to the tip of his cock where he drips precum. He groans, biting his lip and turning his head so he can hide his face in your neck, muffling his moans. He’s exposed, all the way down to his bones as he twitches in your hold. “I’m here. Let it all out for me, okay? You’re safe. You’re alright.”

The groan that tumbles out of him is louder than before.

“You’re so close, baby,” You press against the the vein on the underside of his cock feeling the way his pulse increases, how he is ready to come undone. He all but thrashes, ready and heated. Your lips tenderly trace the at the underside of his jaw, the skin around your mouth burning from his prickly stubble.

You’re both sweaty, too warm in the best way possible, making him feel as though he is going to spiral out of his skin. You know because this makes you feel the same way. The control, the trust he puts in you to keep him dancing on the edge of release. Every flutter of his pulse, every sound he makes sends a dull throb of arousal shuddering down your spine until you feel your own heartbeat between your legs.

“Sweetheart,” He breathes out, the syllables stretching in his mouth. He's going to come undone. You can feel it in the way his cock twitches in your hand. You can smell it mixing with the sweet smell of whiskey on his breath. The orgasm building in him is overwhelming, a massive blackhole with him in the center bucking his hips as you move down his shaft.

“Do you want to finish?” You ask, your voice a soothing balm as his hips flex, begging for mercy. You’re strong, stronger than him, and your mind isn’t hazy with overwhelming pleasure like his. You have the leverage. It should unsettle him, shake him enough to have you pinned to the bed.

Yet, he stays in your embrace. He lets you keep him at the edge of release, lets you build his orgasm until his eyes roll back in his head. He isn’t safe in his own hands, his palms stained in blood that never seems to come out, but in yours, he is unwinding. He's okay, or at least as okay as one can feel in this fucked up world.

“Sweetheart! Fuck—” He curses as you make another slide back up to his tip, teasingly pressing your thumb against his slit, thick precum oozing around the pad of your thumb. There is no way he can last; all his nerve endings have bubbled to the surface, every ounce of pleasure has engulfed him.

“Just a little bit longer, I promise,” You pet his hair as you continue stroking his hardness. “Is that okay?”

It takes him a moment to nod, a strangled "yes" caught in his throat when you take your hand away from him. His cock lands back against his stomach, painfully hard and leaking precum. The movement alone is almost enough to make him come, but he holds back. He bites his lip as you push him onto his back.

With a final kiss to his lips, you're moving. Lower and lower. Trailing your lips down his chest and stomach, following the trail of peppered hair on his belly that leads you to his flushed cock. As you smile up at him, he brings his hands to your shoulders.

“You don’t—” He starts, his words harsh and fumbling as you place a delicate kiss to the thick head of his cock.

“I want to.”

“‘M not gonna last.” He's so fucking sensitive you’re sure he's going to lose it any second.

“Don’t want you to last. Just tell me what feels best, okay? Don’t hold back.”

Keeping your eyes locked, you open your mouth, taking him in inch by inch in a sinfully smooth glide. Your thighs rub together, your throbbing intensified, but you’re much more interested in how he arches his back so sharply. How he turns to putty in your hands. It takes Joel no time to start rocking into your mouth, speech fragmented into various commands of what he wants you to do, to take him deeper, to suck harder — and you relax your throat to make space.

Running soothing fingers over his hips, he seems to be at the point of sobbing — “That — fuck — that’s g—good, sweetheart,” — your name a prayer on his tongue, and you grant him mercy.

He doesn’t need you to say he can finish — not with the adoring look in your eyes, and certainly not with the way your throat relaxes to take him all the way down. Joel dissolves into thrusts and useless, barely understood speech until he releases in your mouth. Every breath he takes is a scrap of your name or a ragged pant as the salty taste of him floods your tastebuds.

You stay between his legs, his cock pulsing in your mouth as you gently contract your throat to swallow his release. Truthfully, if you didn’t have his cock in your mouth, you’d have shit-eating grin plastered on your face, even with his come trickling out the corner of your mouth. This isn't the first time you've seen Joel fall apart, but it's always a welcomed image regardless.

You wait until he weakly pushes at your shoulders to move you away, releasing this cock from your mouth in a soft, wet sounding pop, licking the tip for good measure.

When you move your way back up his body, he doesn’t seem to have any strength left, doing little more than whispering your name as you wrap your arms around him. Pulling him close, you ask, “How you feeling? Better?”

“Y—yeah, baby. Good,” He mutters, moving down just enough to rest his head against your chest. "You're a fucking blessing."

He nuzzles between your breasts, letting the salty taste of your skin coat his lips. He finds the strength to wrap his own arms around you, pressing his fingertips lightly into your back as though he never wants to let you go.

You try not to think how you and Joel got to the point. Don't think, just do. It doesn't matter how you ended up here, all that matters is that you're here. That throughout the decay and pain, there is something that matters. It's not love, but something else. Endearment, affection, softness. What matters is the he curled into you and that you're able to take the stress and pain and frustration away from him.

Joel feels good against you, warm and solid.

thank you for reading! this was my first time writing outside of star wars, so i hope you enjoyed! comments, reblogs, and likes are all appreciated 💙

973 notes View Post

fortunatelyangrycheesecake

1 year ago

♡ babysitter

oneshot - inspired by that one edit

fandom: five nights at freddys (movie)

paring: mike schmidt x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, dry humping, sexual tension, kissing, friends to lovers, cumming in pants, submissive mike, foul language, teasing, smut, riding, dom reader, consensual sex, age gap, minors dni..

You've heard a lot about him from Abby, mainly bits and pieces that she's told you, but nothing really about him and the only thing he really says to you is that he's eventually going to pay you back. But you always refuse.

The old couch squeaks softly as he sits beside you, a gentle hand goes to reach your face but hesitates.

He’s been very busy for a while now that he has started his new job at a security guard that was shut down ages ago. When he comes home he's always so tired, like he's a different person. As if he cannot relax. You hear the door open and slam back as it he closes it.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you come back.." You whisper, groaning whilst you move out of the position you had been in for a while. Yawning as you gently wipe your eyes.

Mike looks at you, half-smiling as he leans against the cushions. He's tired, you can tell. "Sorry if I woke you, you looked exhausted, so I just wanted to cover you," he whispers back, stretching his arms. "Did Abby go okay for you?" he asks.

"I told her it's bedtime an hour ago, but you know how it is with little ones." You joke.

"Abby was great, she missed you, though.." You smile sheepishly, shifting on the coach to face him. "How was work?" You ask, seeing the slight bags under his eyes.

Mike chuckles softly, leaning his head back and letting out a deep sigh as he stares up at the ceiling.

"It was long," he sighs. "I mean, I've gotten used to it, of course, but god, it's draining..." He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, looking off to the side and fiddling with his fingers, trying to find the right words to explain what just happened at work. He seems hesitant to say.

"You okay? You can talk to me if something is bothering you." Hesitantly placing your hand on his shoulder, slowly forcing him to look at you. You've known him for years due to babysitting Abby, but he's never opened up.

"Well... it's just..." Mike sighs again, still not meeting your eyes. "...Abby asked me some questions about stuff today."

He rubs the back of his neck, shifting in his seat as if he's about to say something and then thinks better of it. He leans back against the coach, letting out a frustrated grunt as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. "I... I just can't tell her."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" You whisper, staring at him, waiting for a response.

Mike's face softens a little, looking over at you before he sighs, shaking his head. "It's nothing. Abby asked about the job, and... well, it got me thinking..." He shrugs his shoulders again, still looking off to the side.

"Look, I'll tell Abby about it myself, I don't... I shouldn't put it on you..." He sighs one again, staring at the floor.

"If you need me, don't hesitate." You place your hand on his thigh, squeezing it for reassurance. Gaining confidence, you slowly move your body off the couch and sit on his lap.

"Oh..." Mike says quietly, his face turning bright red as you place your hand on his thigh. He looks down at you, his expression of uncertainty on his face changing as his eyebrows rise.

He's speechless, frozen in shock at your touch, and his entire face is practically bright pink. He's suddenly a lot warmer, his chest heaving as his heartbeat picks up speed. "... Y- you're..." he says with the last of his breath, his brain having trouble finding the right words to say.

"Is this okay..?" You grind against his lap, whispering against his ear.

"Shit..." He stammers, his brain desperately trying to process what you're doing. He looks confused, his eyes drifting down to you as his mind races.

"What... what are you... n- no, it's... we can't..." Mike stutters, trying to find a way to reject you. But the longer you're in his lap, the harder it is for him to say no.

"Just relax, Abby is fast asleep in her room.." You grind harder against him, using your index finger to tilt his chin up, making eye contact when you suddenly hear him whimper.

"T- this isn't the time..." he mumbles in response, his eyes closing at the sensation and his whimpers becoming more noticeable.

"W- we shouldn't be doing this..." he whispers, his arms hesitating in the air for a moment before they eventually wrap around your waist. He's still torn between going along with it or saying no, his heart racing as he gazes at you.

"Beg for me to continue." You stop moving your hips, feeling his arousal throb against your ass. Wanting to see how he would react.

"P- please... God.." he whispers, the breath catching in his throat and his voice turning raspy.

He looks at you, his eyes pleading, his body quivering under your control. His heart is pounding out of his chest. He swallows, looking up at you as his entire body screams for you to keep going while his mind fights back.

"You can do better than that.." You tease, breathing against his neck, gently creating bruises as you feel his slightly breath hitch.

Mike whimpers loudly when he feels your bites, his muscles tensing as he tries to relax.

"H- I- please, don't stop..." he murmurs hoarsely, sounding completely different than you've ever heard before. He whimpers again, his head tilted back as he tries to hide the pleasure in his face. He can't believe what he's doing, but he can't turn away.

"Good boy.." Slowly reaching to take off your top, revealing your covered breasts as you start to grind against him, pushing your panties to the side, creating a wet spot on his jeans.

Mike looks down at you, taking in the view as your top is removed, his face getting even pinker as his heart races.

He swallows nervously in response to your wetness, his eyes trailing down your body before they eventually turn back to your face. His cheeks are bright red, his breathing heavy as he glances back down at you, looking into your eyes as you look into his. He takes a long, drawn-out breath, his entire body quivering with anticipation.

"Just take what you want, Mike, no one is stopping you.." You tease, eagerly watching his reaction.

"I- it's..." Mike starts to say, but he can't say no to you, not right now. He leans back, pushing himself deeper into you like he can't help himself, the breath catching in his throat as he takes in the sensation. His eyes are closed as he tries to ignore his own morals.

His eyes snap open, his lips parted as he whispers, "More.."

"You close?" Whispering seductively, moving harder as you feel your climax coming fast.

"Oh, god..." Mike breathes out, his face red, and his eyes roll back into his head. He moans, bucking his hips up against you, feeling himself come close to release as he cums in his pants, feeling you come down from your high.

10K notes View Post

fortunatelyangrycheesecake

4 years ago