Joel Miller slept with you once and now he’s wondering if he just changed both your lives forever.
Contains: smut, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, creampie, unprotected sex, pregnancy, praise, multiple orgasms, body worship, dirty talk, slightly insecure Joel, breast play, riding, fluff, angst, nervous Joel, flirting, panic, one night stand, unspecified age gap
Wordcount: 7,249
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Joel tilted his glass a little, glaring at the bottom of it.
It had been his second glass, but he could hardly feel any effects of the alcohol, which wasn't unusual given his tall, broad figure. His high tolerance was a curse and a blessing at the same time, but right now, he wished he would feel a little more at ease. Especially because his little brother seemed to be on another planet, and his wild behavior was usually a lot more endurable with his head pleasantly buzzed.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Joel, do you see this chick over there?"
Seriously, what was wrong with his brother using such terms at his age? He was talking like some college freshman who had gone out for the very first time in his life.
"No, Tommy. And I'd rather not."
"Joel, she's basically undressin' you with 'er eyes." Tommy grabbed his shoulder, trying to get him to shift his attention toward her, but Joel just peeled his hand off.
"Well, I wouldn't really like that in this goddamn cold."
It was untrue that he despised any kind of interaction with beautiful women, specifically when he felt that he had sparked an interest in them, but he doubted that Tommy had a good eye for any of this. He was… difficult sometimes. After dating Maria for quite some time, then breaking up with her in a huge fight, followed by months of reunions and more fights that ended ugly, Joel wasn't so sure he was the one to turn to for advice. Even though he would obviously never tell Tommy that.
"Joel, she wants to fuck ya."
"Who are you even talkin' 'bout?"
Okay, now he was interested. Just a tad. Despite its recent growth and all the new refugees coming from the East, Jackson was still a small town, so people knew each other. Especially Joel, who had been living there for four years now.
"The pretty one."
"Jesus…" He drew a heavy breath through his nose as he finally wheeled around to see who his brother had been watching for the past minute.
Oh. He had expected a lot, but not the person his eyes now landed upon.
At first, he assumed that he was mistaken, and that Tommy was talking about one of the women at the table beside you, but no. His brother was very clearly watching you.
"Are you fuckin' serious? You think she's starin' at me?" Joel chuckled, reaching for his glass only to remember that it was empty. How pathetic.
"She is. And she almost looked like she was about to drool."
"Christ… Tommy, she's like – I don't know, 35. What would she want from me?"
"I told you, she – "
"Yeah, yeah…" Joel grunted and determinedly put his glass back on the counter, turning the idea of getting himself another round over in his mind.
"Well, I'm gonna go over to this other group now and introduce myself like a polite gentleman would do, and if I were you, I'd join so I could talk to that pretty woman and…"
At this point, Joel stopped listening to his brother and just gave a nod when Tommy excused himself to execute his plan and approach the group of ladies next to you.
Tommy was insane, Joel thought, scoffing to himself while the idea of refilling his drink became more and more appealing with every passing second. But then again, drinking with his brother was one thing, but sitting alone at the counter sipping beer while Tommy was off flirting with women was even more humiliating. No, he would have to find different ways to deal with the loud noises and indistinct chatter without the liquor. At least until he was sure that Tommy was either safely at his house or had gone home with one of the women he had just met.
"Hey."
Joel's head spun around quickly, his breath catching in his throat. Shit, his body was too old to move that quickly, he thought, pressing his hand against the side of his neck.
Only then did he realize whom he was facing. It was probably the last person he had expected to see right now, maybe except for his brother, who seemed to be only just getting started throwing around compliments and lighting up the women with his widest smile.
"Oh, hey, how are you?"
Joel wasn't a friendly or particularly charming man, but he tried his best for you. What were you even doing here, talking to an old grump like him? Well, no matter what the reason was, it didn't change anything about the fact that you were pretty, had a beautiful smile, and were flashing your eyes at him at that moment.
"Oh, I just spotted you across the room and thought that maybe you – I don't know, you'd like some company?"
So you had been watching him? His brother was right? Otherwise, you wouldn't have headed straight over to him the second Tommy had left him alone at the counter.
"Of course, always," Joel said, but cursed his rough voice that might have just told you to fuck off. Hell, he just wasn't well-liked amongst women, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn't a natural, he wasn't the kind of man women really liked to spend a great deal of time with. Waste their time, rather.
"Can I sit?" you asked sweetly and didn't even flinch at his gruff tone. You were definitely either immune to it or hoping to crack his shell the moment you began having a conversation with him. He genuinely didn't know which he would prefer to be true.
"How are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in town forever. Did you attend last week's town meeting?"
Joel shook his head, feeling grateful to be able to talk about something that wasn't just superficial small talk.
"No, I was really busy fixin' my brother's window that day. The storm, you know… The glass broke out of the frame, so I had to replace it."
"Wow, that's impressive… I could use your help sometime, I think."
"Oh yeah?" Joel scoffed, averting his gaze to hide his flushed cheeks. He just wasn't used to this, talking to beautiful women at the bar who seemed to have a genuine interest in hearing about his daily life. "With what?"
"I have some lights in the living room that don't work. It's not too bad because I have others that light up the place, but I'd like it fixed sometime."
"Yeah," Joel growled and nervously turned his glass in his hand, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Goddamnit, was this really all he was capable of? Saying yeah and staring at the floor like he'd rather be buried beneath the parquet than spend another second in your presence?
It wasn't even true, for that matter. Joel didn't mind talking with you, which was remarkable since he couldn't stand half of this town's population. And for fuck's sake, you were pretty. He just couldn't stop thinking about how. He had seen you many times before, of course, but had never paid attention to you in such a way.
"Your brother went over to talk to some of my friends over there."
Yeah, that was it. Now you were about to come up with a lame excuse for why you had to head back over there and throw yourself at Tommy's chest like everyone else did. Joel just wondered why you had even come over in the first place rather than just staying with your friends and his handsome brother, whose brassy laughter was soaring through the entire bar.
"Yeah… That's Tommy, mhm?" Whatever, perhaps it was time to go home, and it wasn't such a bad thing that you were about to leave him alone.
"I don't really get it. Without being mean, of course."
"Get what?" he murmured, narrowing his eyes and planting his palm flat on the wooden counter.
"Why they all wanna talk to him… I mean, I just think there is an even more appealing Miller brother."
His brain short-circuited, and for an instant he was speechless. There were no thoughts running through his head, but when he had finally caught up on what you had said, he wanted to laugh.
"What?" Joel chuckled and awkwardly shifted his weight onto his elbow, trying to seem casual with his cheek resting on his palm, but he assumed it just looked ridiculous and forced.
"I just… wanted to talk to you. That's all."
"Talk about what?"
Now it was you who laughed, throwing your head back, which looked incredibly endearing. "Nothing specific, Joel… Just you. I just felt like coming over to you."
Your words stole his breath again, only this time his heart rate picked up as well, causing an uncomfortable hollowness to swell in his chest. So all of it was true, you were here because it was where your heart had led you? Tommy had been right when he had claimed that you had been subtly watching him?
His mind hadn't fully processed everything when your lips were already moving again.
"Not that I have anything against your brother, of course… He's such a polite man. But I just – I saw you by the bar. And you looked… handsome."
"Handsome?" Joel repeated, his voice a low, raspy drawl. At this point, he didn't even take your words seriously anymore, as you were probably just too drunk to think before you spoke, which was the very reason for your mindless stammering.
He wasn't handsome, he was harsh and mean to the people around him, while the ones he didn't want around were treated coldly and without any interest in getting to know them better. Joel didn't know where to place you in that… Sure, you weren't someone he usually saw on a daily basis, but at the same time, he didn't mind having you around. Seeing you briefly in the grocery store or at a town meeting had the advantage that there wasn't much potential for you to piss him off. Most of the time, the two of you just exchanged a few words before everyone went on their way.
"Yeah, handsome. I like what you – did with your hair today."
Joel had no idea how he had ended up in that situation, but when he later looked back, he assumed that this sentence had been the reason for it all, that with those words, the seeds had been planted.
The conversation about hairstyles and clothing had led to one about favorite seasons of the year, and then, all of a sudden, you had asked if he wanted to catch some fresh air.
Of course, Joel had agreed, since a crowded, noisy bar was high up on the list of the most uncomfortable places for him. He had agreed so quickly that you had asked him why he had even come in the first place if he hated it so much, but Joel had just shrugged, mumbling something about his brother, who had the talent of always getting what he wanted. And tonight, he had wanted to go to the bar with him.
One thing had led to another, you had caused his cheeks to flush with more of those sweet compliments, and ten minutes later, Joel and you had entered his house, your back crashing into the wall the moment he had locked the door behind you.
Your mouths were pressed together so tightly he couldn't breathe, and he didn't care about it either. All he cared about was savoring as much of the feeling of your soft lips as possible and getting his fucking hands on you.
"Holy shit," he choked after a while, grabbing your wrists with both hands and pinning them above your head. He didn't even intend to restrain you or cage you in, he just genuinely liked tracing your soft wrists and your pretty skin.
"Joel," you panted, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him back, which made his head spin. You, desperately crying his name just because you desired him so much. You, stretching your body toward him just because you wanted to be closer to him. It was a beautiful dream, impossible to believe.
After accepting that his hands weren't so successful in their mission to remove more layers of clothing from your body — he kept getting distracted by every inch of skin he uncovered — Joel pulled back a little to guide you to his bedroom.
You gasped for air, your flushed cheeks dimpling with a mischievous smile as you took the hand he offered you. You followed him with light steps, the anticipation tangible in the way you held yourself and squeezed his hand, which made it hard to believe that you weren't drunk. You had promised him as much after all on the walk back to his house.
Still, he took the liberty of asking you again the moment he had guided you onto his bed, which practically invited the two of you to take advantage of it with its wide mattress and plush pillows.
"You promise you're not drunk?" he huffed while sliding your shirt over your head before he got sidetracked once again.
"I'm not. I promise." He hadn't tasted any alcohol on your tongue, he had to admit.
"Why, do you think I'm acting drunk?"
Joel scoffed and dropped your shirt on the ground next to the bed, struggling to keep his gaze on your face while he yearned for a glimpse of your torso. He wanted to be respectful, of course, and not make you feel like he only appreciated your looks and couldn't have cared less about the things coming out of your mouth.
"No, I'm just… I don't know, I'm wonderin' what you want with an old guy like me. You could have anybody you want, sweetheart."
Now it was you who chuckled, though something was also shimmering in your eyes that prompted him to nervously shift on top of you. Your gaze was intense, that was all. The fire in your eyes seemed to burn off the layers of his clothes, making him feel vulnerable, which was remarkable since you were the one half-undressed.
"Are you serious? Joel, you… Of course I want you. You think I would only want you if I were drunk? Is that what you're trying to say?"
"No, I mean…" He started, but then his voice trailed off as he realized that it was precisely what he had assumed. It just sounded a lot worse out of your mouth.
"Let me show you," you whispered and put your hand on the back of his neck, tugging him closer so that the words that followed could barely be heard, nothing but a breath between you.
"Let me show you how much I want you."
Joel grinned, coming off a lot more casual and natural than he viscerally felt.
"How?" he grunted, his lip twitching when you took his hand and brought it to rest on your lower belly.
"I want you to feel it… Can you do that? I want you to feel how wet I am for you."
His ears grew hot at your blunt words, his stomach coiling with a mix of anxiety about messing this up and a desperate urge to melt into you. Shit, he had an extraordinarily beautiful woman under him who was inviting him to touch her most intimate parts. He would never forgive himself if he messed this up.
"Yes," was all that he breathed.
You moved his hand to the waistband of your jeans, but the moment his fingers brushed against the cool metallic button, he took over and undid it himself.
Without yanking your jeans down your legs, Joel slipped his hand inside your pants. There was something enthralling and nerve-tingling about leaving your lower half dressed while he touched you, and he might get a proper look at you later. If you let him, and if he hadn't done something wrong by that point.
"You look pretty," Joel murmured, just to fill the silence surrounding the two of you. He wasn't sure if you minded the quietness, if he was doing both of you a favor by speaking, since your expression was unreadable. Actually, it wasn't entirely unreadable, there was still sweet longing etched into your features, but Joel supposed that this was just your standard look for tonight.
"Thank you," you murmured, batting your lashes and opening your thighs wider for him, allowing him to settle between them.
His hand was now nicely sheathed between your jeans and your underwear. He had to twist his wrist a little to move freely, but he liked your warmth and how your pussy seemed to have a magnetic effect on him. He wished he could touch your bare skin, maybe even slide a finger inside, but you hadn't asked him explicitly yet, so he —
"Joel…" you whimpered, which came so suddenly he twitched slightly. "Please… Please, touch me."
God, you seemed on the brink of begging him, which wasn't at all what he had expected. The sight of the sheer hunger in your eyes, how you chewed on your bottom lip as though it would quench your needs, was both terrifying and heart-warming. Terrifying because Joel felt a little overwhelmed by your undisguised desire, and heart-warming because it was simply an endearing sight.
"Like that?" he whispered and pressed the heel of his hand against your clit, or at least he assumed he was pressing against the right spot beneath the fabric.
When your breath hitched and your muscles tensed, his suspicions were confirmed, and his shoulders eased a little.
It wasn't like he was completely talentless when it came to the art of making love, it was just that he was a bit rusty. Here in Jackson, Joel didn't have a recurring partner to have sex with, which was why he was afraid the things he had learned over the course of his life were slipping out of his head the older he got.
Someone like you, though, someone who was many years younger than him and surely had a lot of sex, given that you were so beautiful and charming, definitely knew what you wanted. So what if he just wasn't competent enough to compare with those other men and please you?
"Joel?" you whispered, clearly aware that his mind had drifted off again.
Your warm hand rested on his cheek, your thumb drawing a few vague circles over his skin.
"It's okay. It feels good. Very - fucking good."
Your voice was breathy, lips parted as you forced large amounts of air into your lungs. Which was a good sign, right?
"You like that?"
"Yes, Joel, fuck... I like it - so much. Please."
The corner of his mouth instinctively curled. He liked hearing you beg. A lot. Besides its obvious effects, it also made him more secure in his own skills and caused his hand to rock against your core with more force.
After a few more minutes, he couldn't wait any longer and pushed your underwear to the side to gain access to your hole, which was hopefully dripping for him by now.
"Is that okay?" he panted against your lips, the sweat pooling on his brow most likely trickling onto your head at that moment, but it was better not to think about it and perhaps become self-conscious. Instead, he focused on your sweet whisper and your swollen lips.
"Yes, Joel. Please, just—put them inside. Please."
It was all the assurance he needed to remove the damp fabric and let his fingertips circle your hole. He hoped they were warm enough to feel pleasant, but sensing no hint of startlement from you, he was confident you didn't mind.
Goddamnit, you were soaked. He had hoped to find some wetness, prayed that there was enough to comply with your request and push his fingers inside you, but he hadn't dared imagine your juices running down your legs like that.
"Do you believe me now?" you laughed, burying your hand in his locks and yanking his face against yours, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.
"I... Yeah. Yeah, you... fuck, you're wet, baby."
Joel dipped his fingers in a little deeper but moved his thumb to your clit to keep up the friction that had evoked so much pleasure within you in the first place.
"It's all for you, Joel... 'Cause I want you. I want to feel you so bad."
Your words, in combination with how you felt, how your pussy sucked him in greedily yet so effortlessly, drove him near insanity. Joel's head was spinning like he had just gotten off a roller coaster and the earth beneath his feet had yet to stop tilting. It was a tad unsettling, still, he wouldn't trade the feeling for the world. It was too precious, you were too precious, for him to take a second to calm himself.
"Ohhh fuck. Yes, Joel, please, I—yes, like that."
He was working his middle and ring fingers inside you, thinking that you were relaxed and wet enough to take two at once. The idea of you being so comfortable with him that you opened up for him just like that was filling his heart with pride, even though he knew that he shouldn't get too presumptuous about it. You were just confident and experienced, that was all. There was no reason for you to get nervous with him, because it was just him. Just a slightly insecure, awkward old man who didn't really have a clue what he was doing.
"Feels good, Joel," you whimpered and rolled your hips forward, inviting him to start moving.
Which he did gladly. At first, he thrust them in and out of you slowly, occasionally going knuckle-deep while other times just feeling how beautifully you stretched around him.
But after becoming certain that you had accommodated the size of two of his fingers, he allowed himself to match the pace of his digits with the tight swirls over your stiff bundle of nerves, which he didn't forget no matter how tight and warm you felt around him. How much he wished he could experience it with his cock as well.
"Oh my god," you cried out, arching off his bed and digging your toes into the mattress.
He loved how your entire body responded to him, not just your hot, pulsing pussy. He wished he could tell you that, but he didn't know how without coming off as strange. Was that a normal thing to say during sex? Would your pretty smile broaden, or would your eyebrows draw together? Or would you show no reaction at all but internally question whether it had been a good idea to go home with him?
"Joel. Joel, I—I'm gonna cum," you informed him, causing his stomach to flip.
He couldn't help it, the idea of bringing you to the edge so quickly made his chest flare with pride and excitement, filling his veins with adrenaline.
"That's it, baby," he whispered in your ear, driving his fingers all the way out of you, which produced a squelching sound. The moment you began whining for his fingers to stuff you full, he worked them back inside you. All the way, until his knuckles were inside you. He curled them a little, hitting your spongy, sensitive walls and using your natural wetness to smoothly glide his pads along your insides.
This was downright obscene, and doing something like that with a woman he hadn't exchanged more than a few words with in the past made it feel even more brazen. Though in a good way, if that made sense.
"I'm gonna cum," you pressed out, cheeks turning red while you moved your left hand to his shoulder, gripping the fabric of his shirt firmly.
"I know, sweetheart. I know you are. It's okay, you can cum any time you want."
It took him another minute of circling your little nub and keeping you full of his fingers before you unraveled for him. The sight was the most intoxicating and gorgeous thing he could imagine. Your head was thrown back, eyes pinched shut, and mouth open while throaty moans spilled from your throat. Since you couldn't see him, Joel felt nearly intrusive for regarding you in your most vulnerable state, but he couldn't look away either.
"Ohhhh fuck. Huh. Joel, fuck."
Your hands fell away from him and instead came to rest next to you on the bed.
You looked so exhausted and weak, he considered rolling off you to give you some room to breathe and restore your strength, but he didn't dare do so when you slung your legs around his hips.
"Shit, that was good," you grinned and looked up at him through your lashes, both tiredness and devilment glinting in your eyes.
"Yeah? You liked it?" he growled casually, trying to make his voice sound as carefree as possible.
"Yes. Of course. I don't think I've ever come so quickly while being with a man."
"Oh, you... you like women too?"
You burst into laughter at once, which made his brow furrow in confusion.
"No, I meant I've never come so quickly except when I do it myself. And when I have to be fast, you know? Not that there's anything wrong with liking women."
Shit, he really did turn into an idiot the second he got close to a beautiful woman.
"Oh, yeah... I get it now."
"Joel?"
The tender skin of your hand traced his patchy beard, seemingly not minding the stiffness and sharpness of the little hairs.
"Yeah?"
"I wanna do something for you now."
"Oh, you—you don't have to, sweetheart. You really don't."
You narrowed your eyes at that, licking your bottom lip.
"But I want to. Will you let me ride you?"
Despite feeling a rush of arousal go through him and head straight to his core, he was slightly taken aback by your words. Not that he doubted in any way that you were capable of doing it, it was just that no woman had ever asked him that question so bluntly.
"Yeah, sure..."
Joel grinned wryly and trailed his thumb along your cheekbone, wondering how it was possible to look so breathtaking and adorable at the same time. Your hair was a little messed up, your face blotchy after your high, but that didn't decrease his lust for you in the slightest. No, it only added to it, if anything.
Within seconds, you had climbed on top of him, straddling his clothed thigh while Joel slowly placed his hands on your waist as if to gauge where to touch you best.
You took your lip between your teeth, the grin you were wearing making your whole face gleam.
Then, you reached behind you and unclasped your bra with a seductive sheen in your eyes. His mouth dried at the sight of your bare chest. Instinctively, his fingers jolted upward, which didn't seem to escape your notice.
"You can touch me, Joel."
While he ran his index finger along the underside of your breast, careful at first as though he were afraid you would break under his hands, you took care of your pants and underwear, then of Joel's clothes. He helped you by lifting his hips and sliding his arms out of the sleeves of his shirt, but for the most part, he only paid attention to your body and your protruding nipples, which were a sight for sore eyes, hardening under his touch.
At times, you squealed or jerked when he twisted your nipples, which filled him with anticipation and made his skin prickle. Faster than he could process, the two of you were naked, except for your socks, but neither of you had the patience to remove another piece of clothing, which was why your eyes went straight to his cock.
Joel maybe would have felt embarrassed about being so eager for you if he hadn't touched your soaked pussy a moment ago. He was rock hard, the tip swollen and red, which caused a flicker of pity to appear in your eyes.
"It's so pretty," you commented, wetting your dry lips with your tongue.
"Yeah? You think so, baby?"
Joel splayed his left hand across the small of your back, yanking you closer. You reached for his member, forming a fist around his shaft, which was answer enough.
"It's gonna feel so good," you panted and slid your hand up and down a couple of times, hot blood pulsating through his veins at the stimulation.
"You wanna put it inside, darlin'?" Joel groaned, feeling the remnants of his nervousness disintegrate as greed consumed him. There was no space for it anymore, his thoughts were replaced by his craving to feel your pussy hugging his pulsing member. It would feel so good, he just knew it.
He could only hope that he wasn't going to burst the second you sank down on him, that he would be able to hold back for a few minutes, which would hopefully give you the time to take from him what you needed to slake your own longing before he spilled his cum inside you like a pathetic teenage boy.
"Yes," you hummed and tilted his dick a little, lifting your hips to properly climb on top of him.
It took you two attempts to work the head of his cock inside, as the slippery mess between your legs caused the tip to slip aside at first, but then the two of you moaned in unison, feeling your walls give way.
You were tight, but not so tight that he anticipated any discomfort from your side while he reached deeper inside you. Besides, you were still the one in charge and could stop any time you needed a break to get used to him.
But holy shit, it didn't seem like you wanted anything like that. You just glided down on him as though the most hidden and secretive corners of your pussy were begging to be filled by him, and you didn't have the patience to wait a second longer than necessary.
"Oh my fuckin'..." Joel growled, throwing his head back, his lids falling shut, but then they opened again when he felt you kiss his neck.
"Baby. You feel goddamn good, you know that?"
You whimpered softly but didn't let go of his skin. No, you were clinging to his body like a monkey, your hands squeezing his bicep with every other inch you took of him.
"Ohh god. Oh shit."
You rolled your hips a tad, allowing him to claim yet a little more of your body until he hit your cervix, and you ground your teeth.
"Don't hurt yourself, baby," Joel grunted, one of his hands landing on the back of your head while the other rested on your hipbone, guiding you into him without urging you to pick up your pace.
"I just—Feels really good. You're so deep, Joel."
"I know I am," he hummed, glaring down at your head, which was still pressed against his collarbone. He couldn't see a lot, though, as sparks were flickering in his vision, drowning everything in a hazy, blazing bubble.
"You like that, sweetheart? You feel good?" Joel asked and moved a hand to your breasts again, which bounced wonderfully under the steady rhythm you had set for yourself.
"Yes, Joel..." you murmured, almost in awe of his girthy length inside you.
Your eyes were round and glossy, making you look like you were on some other planet or perhaps just encapsulated by his cock, stuffing you full with every thrust.
"You feel perfect," Joel grunted and weighed the flesh of your breast in his hand before he suddenly dropped it between your thighs, finding your hardened clit in no time.
You flinched slightly at the first touch, but after a few gentle swipes, it seemed to start feeling good again. Your motions became a little more uneven, sometimes you stopped about halfway above his cock when he pinched your clit just right, but Joel didn't mind it at all. No, he devoured every single image like a dry sponge, rewarding you with little kisses on top of your brow.
"I ain't gonna last long," he muttered in your ear after a while, his thick Southern accent even more distinct now than it always was when he felt strong emotions. "Sorry, sweetheart... You just—you feel very fuckin' good. I'm—God, baby, I... You're so warm..."
You raised your head from his chest at that, planting both hands on his shoulders to have better support while you rocked back and forth. He didn't know what exactly your technique was, didn't know how you did it, but the sensation was a totally new and spectacular one.
"Holy fuckin'..." he grunted, squeezing the flesh of your waist so tightly that the skin turned white.
A split second later, Joel's world collapsed. His body released the tension it had been holding, and he spurted his creamy seed within your wet pussy.
"Fuck..." was all he felt capable of muttering, shoulders slackened and eyes pinched shut.
Everything went still for the moment, the noises gushing from outside his house, the creaking bed, and even his own thoughts. He even forgot all about his guilty conscience for cumming before you instead of waiting like a gentleman.
Then, his high abated slowly, and he felt capable enough to raise his regretful gaze to face you.
"I'm so fucking sorry, sweetheart," Joel whispered in your ear, feeling his sticky cum pushed deep inside your pussy by his dick, which was still buried all the way inside you.
Although you just gave him a smile and assured him that you were perfectly satisfied with what you had received from him, Joel insisted on making you cum a second time, which you didn't mind in the slightest.
Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth and curling your toes in excitement, you spent another fifteen minutes on your back, legs spread wide and lids fluttering while Joel used both his tongue and fingers on you until you saw white.
He licked you through your high, kept his tongue attached to your clit, and when you neither flinched away nor told him to stop after your apex, he just kept going, feeling addicted to your juices.
Your orgasm was followed by another, but after that, you weakly cradled his head and pulled him up to you.
That night, both of you had a restful sleep.
You dozed off the moment Joel had crawled up and spread the blanket over you, and he joined you in your dreamscape shortly afterward. He was even too tired to clean up the mess the two of you had made, thinking that he would have all the time in the world to do it the following day.
With a heavy groan, Joel shoved the cupboard against the wall, dropping his hands to his hips.
"That's it, ain't it?"
His brother pursed his lips and eyed the corner of the room, then the rest of it.
"Yeah. Looks right, mhm? We did a good job 'ere. Thank you, Joel."
He gave a small nod and let his gaze wander over the freshly painted but dried walls of the room with a satisfied hum. The creamy white reflected the light much better than the dark grey had, which had been one of the main reasons why Tommy's wife, Maria, had asked the brothers to repaint the garage of their house.
Now everything looked much friendlier, Joel had to admit, even though he had been the one to raise his eyebrows in doubt when Tommy had brought the idea forward to him. After all, there were many more important things to tend to than the color of their garage.
But whatever, the job was quickly done, and if it made his sister-in-law happy, he would sacrifice a few hours of his free time to help them out.
For once, Tommy and her were doing well in their marriage, and their fighting had been reduced to things around the house, which Joel considered a good sign.
Besides, it looked like he was about to get rewarded with a cold beer in Tommy's garden, which was precisely what his sweaty body was craving right now.
A moment later, Joel was sitting with him on the terrace. The sun stood low in the sky, warm enough to tingle pleasantly on his neck but not as pungent and aggressive as it had been a few hours prior.
"Cheers, brother," Tommy grinned and clinked his glass against his. "Thanks again. Maria really appreciates it. She even thinks about invitin' you to 'er birthday next month."
"Very funny," Joel scoffed but nodded anyway. "No problem. If I get rewarded so generously..."
He tilted his head toward the glass filled with beer that had come straight out of the refrigerator and tasted cold against his tongue, filling his body with the refreshment he had been missing over the past hours.
"You're welcome. This is precious stuff, so you know we really appreciate it."
"How's your 'lil guy?" Joel asked after a while, looking around the garden as though he was expecting his nephew to jump out from behind a tree any minute.
"Oh, he's doin' well. He's visitin' a friend right now. But I swear to God, they grow so fast, you can't even keep track. He's learnin' how to read, Joel. I feel like it was yesterday that Maria and I took him home from the hospital."
Although everything about his words sounded very cliché to Joel, he had no doubt about their authenticity. He felt the same way, really. Watching Benjamin grow up had been one of the strangest and most beautiful experiences of his life, and it reminded him strongly of raising Sarah all those years ago.
"Speakin' of children, you know what Maria told me today?"
Joel took another swig of his beer, then set his glass back on the table.
"Shoot."
"So, you remember y/n? The girl from the bar?"
Joel's breath caught in his throat at the mention of your name, and he just hoped that the warmth creeping into his cheeks didn't show on his face.
"Yeah," he answered and subtly avoided Tommy's gaze.
There was nothing to be embarrassed about, it was just that Joel had never told his brother that he had hooked up with you four months ago. Sure, he hadn't been able to avoid talking to him about you the following day, but he had left out the part where he had taken you home and slept with you.
He didn't really know why he had lied, though. Tommy was surely the last person who would judge him for having a one-night stand.
"People are talkin' 'round the town."
"About what? I haven't heard anythin'."
"Of course you haven't," Tommy snickered and patted him on the back. "'Cause you live behind a rock."
"What are they sayin'?" Joel rolled his eyes and felt his heart pound in his chest a little faster than usual. Just because he hadn't seen you again after that one night—except for the occasional, inevitable run-in at the grocery store that had been limited to a friendly greeting—didn't mean he didn't care about you.
"They're sayin' she's pregnant."
Oh.
Joel's stomach twisted, his skin turning pale. Obviously, he wasn't looking in a mirror that could have confirmed his suspicions, but he just knew that it was the truth.
"Pregnant?" he repeated, eyebrows shooting up to portray indifference.
"Yeah..."
"Who's sayin' that?"
"Well, Maria told me. She talked to some of 'er friends, and apparently Nicole saw 'er with a baby bump. And then she talked to some of her friends who told 'er that, yeah, she's pregnant."
"How far along?" it burst out of him before he could stop himself and reconsider showing such intense emotion in front of Tommy.
"Jesus... I'm not sure. What, are you mad at it? Do you like 'er? I thought you weren't so interested after your conversation at the bar."
"No, I... I mean, no. I'm not interested. I just... I don't know—"
"So, her friend didn't say how far along she is, but Nicole said she assumed around fourth or fifth month."
Jesus fucking Christ.
There was a good chance Joel had messed up badly. Of course, that chance wasn't a hundred percent, but if Nicole was right about her assumption and if you hadn't been with anyone else shortly after him and before him, there was... No, he didn't even want to finish the thought for now. First, he needed a few more pieces of information.
"And she said anything about whose child it is? Does she have a boyfriend?"
Obviously, Joel knew that you didn't have one. Against his own will and what he deemed the right thing to do, he had silently watched you a little, just a tad more closely than the other residents of Jackson. He had kept his ears open when walking down the streets and had automatically scanned you when he saw you at town meetings. If there was a boyfriend, you would have surely sat next to him at one of those events, but you were always just accompanied by your friends.
"I don't know. But I haven't heard anything... Have you? Why am I even asking..."
Joel joined his laughter just to conceal his nervousness.
Holy shit.
What if he had really gotten himself into some trouble because of his careless actions?
When he was home an hour later, Joel still felt anxious even though his body was supposed to feel more normal at this point. He sank into the couch cushions, all the air leaving his body as he exhaled.
Well, if that wasn't something.
He didn't want to feel certain that he was responsible for this and that it was his kid before talking to you, but Joel didn't really doubt his involvement in it. He had come inside you, after all, acting stupid and risky like a reckless teenage boy.
Talking to you, yes... If that wasn't long overdue.
He needed to know if it was his child, and if it was, why you hadn't come to him earlier for help. He needed to know if there was any way to help you and if you had any plan or wish whatsoever regarding the future.
Joel nervously tapped his fingers on his thigh.
It had gotten late.
The sun was setting, and the sky was painted in rich orange colors. The wisest thing to do was to wait until the next day to approach this issue with a clear head and a relaxed body, and still, Joel rose to his feet at once.
He didn't even hesitate when he grabbed his keys and dashed out the door.
Summary: Joel's exhausted by the time he makes it to bed. But when a pretty little thing crawls in beside him, he finds the time for you, just like he always does.
Warnings: +18 MDNI, post outbreak, jackson!joel, unspecified age difference, joel pov, porn no plot, dry humping, slow and soft sex, smut with feelings, internalized shame, intimacy, unprotected piv, clit stimulation, kissing
Note: i haven't written for joel in monthsss but i hope you enjoy!!
WC: 2k
[masterlist] [AO3]
Joel’s the kind of exhausted that only comes with age.
Weary bones, heavy limbs, tired eyes.
He’s falling into bed as soon as he gets home, often forfeiting dinner in favor of blissful rest. Sometimes even before the sun’s fully set.
And today is just one of those days. He’d spent the night tossing and turning, trying to massage away a kink in his neck that persisted well into the afternoon. But he hadn’t had time to complain or think too much about how excited he was to crawl back beneath the sheets, because the northernmost barn was falling to pieces.
So, not only was he functioning half empty from the start, but the work today was also strenuous. Sawing raw timber to the perfect length, sanding down the sharp edges, hammering nails into plywood. A full day.
And when Denise had stopped him on his way home, waving him down with a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade in hand, she’d given him that bright, hopeful smile and said, “Little Sammy ran that damn bike into the back door again. Would you mind fixing the hinges?”
His back ached and his knees were creaky, but Joel soon found himself knelt on Denise’s porch, screwdriver and fresh nails in hand.
It didn’t take long, but it did take every last scrap of energy that remained inside of him.
Joel’s house was always quiet. Too big for him, really. Ellie was in the garage already, lights still on, up too late when she had early patrol the following morning. But Joel didn’t have it in him to remind her how important sleep was. Not when he was running on fumes himself.
So he dragged those tired, old bones inside. Kicked off his boots and jeans right at the door of his room, hung his flannel over the back of the chair at his work bench, and let out a long sigh as he climbed beneath icy cotton sheets.
He’s half asleep, eyes closed and muscles sinking into the mattress, when he hears it.
The click of the latch on the unlocked front door. The creak of your careful steps as you climb the stairs.
Joel feels you before he sees you. Too exhausted to pull himself out of blissful almost-sleep. The mattress dips beneath your weight, limbs outstretched, seeking him out of instinct.
This isn’t the first time this has happened. Not the first time you’ve found yourself peering out of your window next door waiting for him to get home. Not the first time you’ve ended up in his bed or in his arms.
And Joel knows he should put a stop to it—you’re too young, too sweet, too…good.
But he’s too worn out to fight his impulses. He’s tried for months to keep his thoughts pure when you cross his mind, but it’s been a losing battle from the start.
Especially when you’re like this. Warm and soft, pressed up against his side, wearing an old t-shirt he’d let you borrow the night before and not much else. A comfort that feels more like home than this house does.
The tips of your fingers tickle his forearm, rousing him just enough that he lifts the heavy limb so you can crawl right into his embrace.
Joel holds you tight. He always does. Biceps big and strong around your shoulders. He holds you like he might lose you tomorrow, because there’s a part of him that fears one day you’ll wake up and see something you don’t like.
He worries you’ll begin to see him for what he is; old, weary, tired. Not even half the man he used to be. Not half the man you deserve.
But for tonight at least, you still wear those rose tinted glasses. Pressing sweet kisses to his face; his nose, his forehead, his cheeks. Nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, making cute, whiny noises at the back of your throat. Like you’re desperate, unable to get close enough despite every inch being pressed against him, leg hooked over his hips.
You find a comfortable position and still beside him, letting out the same sort of long sigh Joel did just moments ago. But you don’t sleep—your breathing doesn’t even out, your muscles don’t go slack.
Joel knows what you need. Long before your hips tilt, before you press your center against his thigh, before you whisper his name in the dark.
“S’okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice deep and dark and sleepy. “C’mere.”
He reaches over and brackets his arm around your waist to drag you on top of him, your center already warm and wanting.
It’s starting to get out of hand, he knows. Starting to become a routine. But Joel doesn’t have many sweet thing in his life, not anymore, and he finds you near impossible to resist. “I’ve got you,” he says. “Take what ya need.”
You lay against his chest, ear pressed right over his heart. Joel kisses the crown of your head when your hips begin to tilt, rubbing yourself against the steadily growing bulge beneath the thin fabric of his boxers.
Soft, wanton sighs leave you at the sensation, and even with a barrier still between you he can feel your clit pulse against the underside of his cock.
Needy little thing you are. But Joel doesn’t mind—he likes the feeling. Of being needed, wanted. Especially by a girl as sweet as you.
You grind on top of him for a while. Not seeking release, not yet. Just feeling the hard warmth of him beneath you, savoring the weight of his big hands stroking softly up and down the expanse of your back.
He can feel your arousal growing with each pass, wetness slowly seeping through his boxers, slick and sticky. Joel nudges you gently with the tip of his nose, the prickly hairs of his mustache tickling the side of your face. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let’s get this shirt off, hm?”
When you nod, you pull yourself up tiredly. The movement is slow and thick like molasses, so Joel uses the last of his energy to help you.
His hands find the hem of the oversized t-shirt and pull it upwards, over your head to be discarded on the floor beside his bed. It leaves you completely naked, bared for him in more ways than one.
In an instant, you fall back against him, breasts pressed up against his chest. Your skin feels cool against his, smooth and pillowy. “S’warm,” you mutter, rubbing the side of your cheek against the coarse hair that litters his chest, graying in some places.
Joel’s cock throbs beneath you, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. He just lets you settle back down and allows you to rest. His hands wander, though, the way they always do.
Sliding down your back, over the sides of your thighs, thumbs massaging gentle circles. He strokes his fingers gently back up to your shoulders and then brings them down your arms, smiling when he sees goosebumps rise in his wake.
When they settle back at your hips, his touch is a little more eager. Kneading at the softness, inching over the curve of your ass until that’s all his hands are filled with.
Joel loves touching you. Not just suggestively, but intimately. He loves feeling the closeness and the trust you put in him to take care of you, to keep you safe, to make you feel good.
He massages the supple flesh, holding you close, until his need for you begins to grow teeth, gnawing at his psyche.
Joel knows he shouldn’t. He knows that.
But he’s just so tired, and you’re so soft. Gentle and kind. And you make him feel loved—something Joel Miller has not felt for a very, very long time.
He guides you with his hands gripping at your curves, sliding your slick cunt over his aching cock. His breath feels hollow, stuck in his lungs.
When he lifts upward, just a little, enough to provide a little extra pressure, you mewl in response.
Joel is quick to soothe, shushing softly into your ear. “Shh, you’re alright. Hang on, sweet girl. M’right here.”
He knows what you need. It’s become a nightly ritual at this point. You come to him seeking connection, seeking the comfort of an older man. Most nights you just need to be held, to be nurtured, to be loved the way you deserve.
But other nights, Joel knows you need a little more. A connection that runs a little deeper.
He reaches beneath you, hooking his thumbs in the elastic band of his boxers and tugging them down his tired legs. Just enough to free his cock, already hard as stone just from your proximity.
Joel pulls your forward, up his torso, giving himself room to line his length up with your entrance.
He slides in real easy.
You’re already soaked, dripping with arousal. And the moment he’s fully seated inside you, stretching you real wide, filling up your belly, you let out a breathy whine.
It feels right, being here like this with you. It feels like coming home.
Joel moves you slowly, guiding each roll of your hips, slowing you down when you try to pick up the pace.
There’s no rush. Not here, not with him. He’ll get you there. He’ll get you what you need. What’s the sense in hurrying through it?
He wants to savor it. The feel of your sweet, soft pussy, clenching and leaking around his length. The way your stuttering breath tickles his skin. The way your hands grip him harder and harder, holding him impossibly closer.
He wants to savor the way you love him.
“Gimme a kiss, baby,” he whispers in the dark.
You turn your head, just enough so that he can press his lips to yours. In this, too, Joel moves painfully slow.
It’s not a claiming, it’s an exploration. His lips move against yours, memorizing the feel of them, the shape and the taste. He slowly licks into your mouth, tongue gliding against yours, breathing in your exhalation.
The building coil around his spine is anything but slow, however. He loves being here with you maybe a little too much. He loves you a little too much.
Joel thrust upwards, keeping a steady, unforgiving rhythm while he slides his hand between you. His fingers search blindly for your clit and he finds it in seconds, circling those slow, tight circles around the pulsing nerves.
Your sounds grow louder, release building. The sound of your joining echoes in the empty room, slick and wet and feverish.
He knows your close when you start manually breathing—lungs stuttering, chasing the delicious relief that only he can provide.
“You got it,” he encourages. “S’right there, baby. Give it to me.”
Your eyes stay locked to his, lips parting on a jagged moan. You don’t say anything; no warning, no begging. You just feel it, feel him, moving deep inside you, fucking you through it.
“That’s it,” he says, voice all soft and warm the way it only ever is when he speaks to you. “There you go.”
He doesn’t stop until you find the natural rhythm of oxygen again, until the shaking in your thighs relents to an easy tremble.
Joel feels that white-hot coil beginning to spool within himself, and pulls out of you with just enough time to shoot thick ropes of cum over your pubic bone.
He thrusts the underside of his cock through your syrupy folds, a gentle rocking until he’s spent. He somehow finds the energy for a few extra thrusts, smearing his release over your clit.
You don’t move an inch, and Joel doesn’t want you to.
Instead, you just lay there on top of him, sticky mess between you, your head resting delicately on his chest.
When you reach up to card your fingers through his graying hair, Joel feels his muscles go completely slack, tension bleeding from his weary bones.
“M’sorry I woke you up,” you say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I know you were tired.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Joel says, and he means it. “I’ll always have time for you."
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