1500 Kisses Challenge - Tumblr Posts
Fuck Sebastian but really, she gets Joel and we all know he’s the better choice 💁♀️
after the rain (joel miller x f!reader)
summary: when life as you know it comes crashing down around your ears, only joel can fix it.
warnings: ex-boyfriend’s dad!joel, age gap (28/56), infidelity (not by joel or reader), cursing, lots of kissing, mild smuttiness, this is not beta’d so sorry for any mistakes lmao, 18+ mdni.
notes: this is a drabble for @janaispunk’s milestone celebration! congrats, babe. there is nobody more deserving of this than you 🫶🏻 i had so much fun playing along. i really hope you like this 🤍
“Thanks, Mr Miller. You really didn’t have to do any of this.”
“Darlin’, it’s Joel. You know it is, and ain’t no way in hell I wasn’t bringin’ you home. It’s the least I can do.”
The cab of the truck falls silent; howling wind and thunderous rain filling the spaces where words should be.
Where they fail you.
You glance over at Joel, agonising over how much you’ll miss him. It’s not his fault his son decided you weren’t worth his time anymore: texting you to say you had a day to remove your belongings from the house, that he was actually in love with the receptionist at his office, and had been for some time now.
Fuck him.
Four years of your life. Over as fast as the lightning flashes above you, freezing you to the bone and splintering your heart in two. You’re almost thirty, and alone again.
Joel had found you on his return home from work.
You and Sebastian had lived with him for two years, hoping to save for a house of your own. Joel made you dinner, helped you fold laundry, let you win at poker. The fact he was disturbingly handsome was neither here nor there — Seb had told you he’d been alone for a long time since his mom left, and you knew Joel found comfort in the time he spent with you.
You knew, because you felt the same.
Joel became a friend to you, in a city where you didn’t have many others. Seb was popular, the two of you unevenly matched — you’d heard his friend’s girlfriends say it enough times to know it was true. Overlooked, underestimated, by everyone but him.
Joel.
He’d listen to talk about your career dreams when stacking the dishwasher, let you play your favourite songs on his record player and ride up front in the truck when you’d drop Seb off at another soirée you weren’t invited to.
You couldn’t truly believe he was single. He was a little gruff, sure. Reserved, speaking only when spoken to. But beyond all that: Joel was patient, with a soft heart. You saw the way the creases by his eyes deepened when you told him of your loneliness: dark brown gaze holding your own.
You were soaked when he discovered you, dragging out boxes and bags in the driving deluge. Joel had tried to reason with you, told you to wait till the morning. You repeated Seb’s ultimatum, watched Joel’s brows furrow and lips curl into a snarl when he learned of his son’s deceit.
“Let me take you, darlin’,” he’d insisted, and you’d relented. One last drive up front with Joel sounded better than any Uber ever would.
You round the bend towards your parent’s house, now, Joel’s hand finding yours in your lap. You try not to jolt at the contact: Seb hasn’t touched you in any which way for a few months now, and you’re surprised by how much you’ve missed the touch of another human.
It didn’t help matters that his father’s hand was warm, calloused, downright huge over yours.
“They home? Your folks?”
You shake your head. “No, luckily. In Florida visiting my Grandma.”
Joel tuts, runs the same hand through his damp hair. It’s slicked back against his head, and you take in the gray at his temples, silver streaked through the rest of his drenched curls. You note the curve of his nose, full lips, black lashes. The smooth skin of his throat, thick biceps, drenched flannel sticking to him.
Something simmers in your belly, hot as hell, and so very fucking wrong.
It’s Mr Miller. Sebastian’s dad. Joel, for fucks sake.
“I’ll help you in with your things,” he tells you, and you protest.
“Mr — Joel. It’s fine, I got it.”
He turns to face you: stern as ever, and you wilt under his glare, knowing his frustration isn’t aimed at you.
“I just — I can’t be there when he gets home. You’re my priority right now, and I wanna make this as easy as I can for ya,” he murmurs, and you feel your eyes begin to well with tears; a contrast to the way you were feeling mere seconds before.
You don’t know which emotion is worse.
Joel pulls up outside the house, rain still lashing at the windows. You wipe your eyes hastily, shoulders drooping in your wet shirt.
“Hey, baby, don’t cry now. Come on. I’ll make sure you’re okay,” Joel leans over the console, his arm around you, lips against your forehead.
Baby.
He’s never called you that before.
You’re sure it’s a slip of the tongue; an instant reaction to the state you’re in, influenced by his urge to take care of you.
Still. The heat returns, making you squirm, closing your eyes and sighing as Joel heads out into the storm, pulling your boxes from the back.
Ten minutes later, it’s like you never left home at all.
Joel insists on bringing your belongings to your old room, mercifully not transformed into a gym or library by your parents yet.
“I know there’s nothin’ I can say to make any of this better,” he tells you, following you up the stairs. “But believe me when I say I never wanted this day to come. I thought you’d be in my life forever.”
You turn, lump in your throat.
“Me too, Joel.”
Soon, the last bag of your clothes is dumped on your carpet, and he follows you to the door in silence.
“Well.. I guess this is goodbye, then,” you mutter, voice wobbling as you turn the handle. The sky is still an angry grey, passing cars spraying water as it continues to pour from above.
Joel heads out, rain bouncing off his shoulders. He turns back, face unreadable, eyes narrowing.
“You can never know how sorry I am, darlin’. I know Seb’s my boy, but he never deserved you. ‘n you.. Christ. Just know I’m here — ‘f ya need me.”
You fold your arms across your chest, sighing heavily. The pain of Sebastian’s betrayal pales in insignificance to the agony of letting Joel leave your life.
“You mean that?”
He holds his arms open in lieu of an answer, and you cross the threshold, barreling into his chest. You feel the downpour sluicing down your neck, roaring in your ears as his hand caresses your back slowly.
You look up at him, rain dripping off his nose, clinging to his lashes. Your eyes travel to his lips, and you’re certain you feel his grip on you tighten, a growl in his throat.
You kiss him.
You’re so certain Joel will push you away, tell you it’s wrong, that you’re not yourself right now. But, he doesn’t: his tongue finds its way into your mouth, and you groan into the swirling wind, hands scrambling to grip the scruff along his jaw.
He’s kissing you so deeply; ferociously, fingers digging into your ass, clambering up your spine. You’re not sure you’ve ever been kissed like this in your life: you feel like Joel’s everywhere, commanding every sense you own.
“Fuck,” you moan, pushing him back inside. You break apart, chests heaving, water cascading to the floor of the entryway. Joel looks guilty, but you’re past caring about what Seb would ever think.
“Joel, I —“
“Don’t,” he whispers, reaching for you. He pulls you close, fingers trailing across your bare arms, coming to rest beneath your chin. “Just, kiss me.”
So you do.
Joel’s hands wander beneath your shirt, and you tear it over your head, reaching for the buttons of his flannel. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinkin’ about you, like this,” he confesses, spinning you in his arms.
His hands — still so warm, despite the freezing rain outside — slide up your stomach, cupping you, squeezing you. It feels like you’ve always belonged here: feeling how hard he is against your back, how he knows your body so well already. You shiver, writhe in his grasp, and his lips find yours once more.
“Let me take care of you, baby.”
You open up to him, receiving his tongue so eagerly. He travels lower, pushing your jeans to the floor, thick fingers sliding inside your panties as you mould yourself to him. It’d never felt like this with Seb, or with anyone before him. Your blood is singing beneath your skin, and you wonder how it took so long for you to get here.
You have no idea the depth of Joel’s words: whether he means just for tonight, or for as long as he can.
You decide it doesn’t matter.
“Okay.”