Come on, baby
(Unhappily) married dbf! Joel Miller x f!reader
💘 Joel Miller, your dad's friend and your neighbour has been unpleased in his marriage for a while now, and you've taken notice to that. You want to help him, you want to make him feel better.
💘 This is part one to my series of oneshots inspired by different Lana Del Rey songs
💘 This fic is inspired by the song Cola by Lana Del Rey. Please listen to it while reading if you'd like. :) (Joel is so Lana coded im literally drooling)
💘 wc. 3.2k
💘 Tags: no outbreak, one shot, dads friend joel, neighbour joel, married joel, age gap, soft reader and joel, (reader) smoking, cheating, size kink, slightly angsty, "we shouldnt do this", grinding, kissing
———
You've always admired Joel, the married man living next door. You made notice of how his shirts hugged his biceps when he was working outside in the yard with your dad, hair slightly curled from the sweat caused by the burning Texas sun, and how he would call you out to help them, always ending the sentence with an affectionate "darlin'" or "sugar" in that dark southern drawl, setting a spark in you. You would always skip down the hall and down the stairs, practically flowing through the back door out into the yard, greeted by the warm sun on your skin.
"What do you need, Joel?" You would smile at him kindly, and Joel's eyes would linger on your pink lips, covered in a sweet vanilla lip gloss, for just a few seconds, but even those few—almost nonexistent—seconds were enough for you to notice.
"Jus' need you to hold this wood for me," he'd hold out the wooden blank to you, and you'd make sure to take hold of it right under Joel's rough fingers, slightly brushing yours and his together for a moment. A moment you'd replay in your head later tonight, "while I hammer it down." You'd nod, following his instructions faithfully, which earned you a praise from the man.
“Good job,” Joel’s dark brown eyes would travel around your body, like he was examining you, looking for something. You'd always wear something skimpy and covered in pretty white lace when you knew he was going to be around, and by the way his gaze was exploring your body, you would guess he liked that, "thank you darlin'." He'd smile at you sweetly, and you'd do the same back, your lips shining in the sun. Your dad would break the moment by yelling Joel's name, needing his help with something. You would walk back inside the house, feeling Joel’s eyes on your back. You’d made your way in slowly, giving him all the time to look, to see everything your short lacy skirt didn’t cover. You would lay your body on your white bedsheets and floral pillows, spending the rest of the evening daydreaming about Joel’s eyes on your body, or his sweet smile, or his fingers on yours.
But of course, deep down in your gut, you know this all really meant nothing; after all, Joel had been married for some years now, and besides that, he was much older than you and your dear father's friend as well. Joel feeling something towards you was truly against all the odds. You know he is a good and faithful man; that's what your dad has always told you. The moments between you two, which had been happening for a few years now, were most likely just in your head; Joel was just being kind, and you were turning it into something more in your head because you wanted it to be more; you wanted something more from him.
…
However, lately, you've started to notice some things. The first thing was a few months ago, on a chilly March morning. You were sitting next to your open window, smoking a cigarette, letting the cool breeze sway your hair around and carry the gray cigarette smoke outside, when you suddenly heard something unusual. Your neighborhood was always extremely calm and quiet, with no teenagers around to host parties and no unhappy couples yelling at night. Really the only sounds you'd hear that would disturb the quietness were someone building themselves a new terrace. But that time you didn't hear loud hammering or sawing; instead, you heard yelling. You peeked your head slightly through the window to hear better, to make sure you were hearing this right.
"I'm so tired of you! Of this all!"
Your mouth hung slightly open as you listened to the familiar woman's voice spit out all kinds of rude words. That voice belonged to none other than Joel's wife. You'd hang out at their house with your dad and seen her at your dad's barbecue parties enough times to recognize her voice.
"You never do anything right, Joel!"
More mean sentences and arguments would flood out of her mouth one after another. You decided you shouldn't listen anymore; it wasn't your business to poke your nose in. But you also couldn't listen; the words hurt you as if they were being yelled at you, because you could almost imagine how Joel might have looked at that moment, how his brows furrowed and his lips twitched with pain. So you quickly put out the long-forgotten cigarette in your hand against the wooden window sill, shut the window, and closed the lace curtains over the glass. You tried your hardest to forget about the incident; you told yourself that every married couple goes through that, it was probably just a one-time thing, and they're most likely okay.
But, you swore Joel's eyes looked different later that day when you passed him on the street; you swore to yourself that he looked tired, or worried, or maybe even sad? And he didn't say hi to you with that same sweet smile he always does. That really kept you up at night; you tossed and turned, your cream-white nightdress wrinkling under the sheets. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see Joel's worried and pained face in your mind. It was like he was haunting you, but this time it wasn't because of his smile at you or his fingers on yours. You were worried about him, worried about the grown man next door; it felt useless, but you couldn’t help it. You knew he was a good man; you'd seen it. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges sometimes, but deep down he was sweet and caring, towards you, towards dad, and towards all the people he cared about.
…
After that there were a few more incidents that raised your concerns even more. A few weeks ago, on a pretty and warm Sunday evening, your dad was going to go visit Miller's house. He knew you enjoyed their company too, so he asked you to come with him. You happily slipped on a pastel yellow sundress with little flowers on it, brushed your hair, and coated your lips with your usual, favorite vanilla lip gloss. You hummed as you gazed at yourself in your mirror, pleased with how you looked, all pretty for Joel's eyes, so you skipped downstairs. "You ready?" You nodded a response to your dad and began slipping your feet into your sneakers.
"Oh also, Joel texted me earlier; Mrs. Miller won't be with us today, it's gonna be just us and Joel, hope you don't mind that."
"Yeah, I don't mind," you smiled slightly at your dad, hoping he won't take notice of the worry flooding your body. "Is she working today?" You truly hoped that was the reason for her being gone.
"Not sure, he just told me she wouldn't be there. Didn't really give me any reason."
You responded with a quick "alright" to your dad. She was never gone for no reason; you knew that. If she was away, she was always at work, they always spent a lot of time together at home. Late at night you could sometimes see both of their cars parked in front of the old house and see how the lights were still on in their living room; you thought about how they were probably cooking together or maybe watching a movie. They seemed like such a happy couple. Her being away on a Sunday evening for "no reason" was definitely odd to you and had your head full of uneasiness.
…
"Glad you could both come, made some dinner earlier if ya' want," Joel said, greeting you both at the door. Your dad went in first, heading straight to the kitchen for the dinner Joel mentioned. You nodded kindly at Joel and passed him to follow your dad. Joel could smell your vanilla lip gloss and your cherry perfume, but also a faint scent of the cigarettes you smoked. He always wanted to take those away from you; he told you how they were no good for you, for such a sweet girl.
You were always so pretty in your sundresses and frilly socks. You looked so innocent and sweet in Joel’s eyes, and he knew he shouldn't think about it; he really had been trying not to, but god, how he wanted to taste your skin, lick your neck, and bite at your collarbone that your yellow dress was barely covering, he wondered if you would taste as sweet as you smelled. He hadn't felt like this about his wife in a long time, and that made these images about you even more wrong. As he cleared his throat from your sweet scent and his sinful thoughts, he closed the door behind you and followed you both into the kitchen.
As you walked into the kitchen, you eyed their living room and noticed something odd. On their couch lay a duvet and a few pillows, like someone was sleeping there. Joel noticed your wondering eyes, yet he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He didn't want to admit what you were thinking was indeed true; he wasn't sleeping next to his wife anymore. That's truly how bad the situation had gotten between them in these last weeks. Your wandering thoughts were interrupted by Joel calling your name.
"Ya want somethin' to drink? I've got some cola in the fridge."
"Oh yeah, sure, thank you Joel," you flashed him a quick smile as you gathered your thoughts to this moment, trying to ease your anxiety about Joel and his wife's situation. Your dad and Joel quickly started a conversation, planning their next building project together, as you took your seat next to Joel at the table. While you were idly listening to their discussion, Joel grabbed the bottle opener from the table. He took your cola into his hands, "Let me help you with this."
Your eyes wandered from his face to his hands, his knuckles, and his rough fingers, much bigger than yours, flexing around the bottle and the opener. With a soft pop the cap loosened, and you reminded your eyes to return to the man's face. Joel passed the glass bottle back to you; he watched you closely as you brought the bottle to your lips, his eyes focusing on the way your lips wrapped around the top. You put the cola back down on the wood and smiled the most innocent smile at Joel, but you swore you could see him slightly smirk at you. He returned to the conversation that your dad had been continuing alone as you sat, staring at Joel's hands, thighs, shoulders, jaw, or any part of him that you could get your eyes on, fidgeting with your hands in your lap.
…
After that evening, Mrs. Miller has been home less and less. Joel comes and spends more time at your house, building or making dinner with your dad, except tonight your dad is working a night shift. He rarely has those, but you're always pleased when he does, since you get the whole house to yourself. You can freely steal one of his beers from the fridge and smoke a cigarette on the couch, which he never would allow you to do if he knew.
You've almost sipped the last bit of your beer when you hear a confident knock on the door. You don't even have time to wonder who it could be before you're already opening the door wide to see none other than Joel in front of you. His eyes widen just a bit before softening again at the sight of your face.
"Oh, hi, thought your father would come to open, he ain’t home?" Joel looks so big, standing in the doorway; you having to tilt your chin to meet his dark brown eyes.
"No, he's working a night shift today, sorry Joel. Did you have plans with him?"
"No need for ya' to apologize darlin, is' all good. I was just checkin' if your fathers at home, was thinkin' of grabbing a beer or two with him," he takes a step back, ready to start saying his goodbyes, but you don't want him to leave.
"Well- maybe you could grab a beer with me," you quickly say, "I mean if you want to, I know my company's really not the same as my dads." You feel like you can't look him in the eyes, instead staring at your own hands, suddenly feeling so small, all alone with him; usually your dad, or Joel’s wife was always there with you.
"That would be nice, sugar. You're always so sweet, aren't ya'?" Joel flashes the sweetest smile to you, and you feel like melting into a puddle. You tell him to go sit down as you head to the fridge, grabbing two beers.
"I see you already got a head start, huh?" Joel says as you return, eyeing the almost empty beer can on the table. You laugh softly as you sit on the couch next to him. You've never been alone with him like this. Just the two of you. Now you feel like you can freely eye him up and down. You can shift just a few inches closer and faintly smell his scent, masculine and earthy. It feels like right now, you're the only ones who exist. You both quietly sip on the drinks, an odd tension lingering in the air between you two.
"How have ya' been?" the question from him breaking up the tension a bit.
"Good, all that same old stuff," you smile at him, "Been quite busy trying to find a job and everything. You know, wanna try to save up some money to get a place of my own some day soon." He nods at you, taking a long sip of his beer as you take notice of how small the can looks in his hand.
"Any lucky boys in your life?" The question catches you off guard, portion of the beer going down the wrong way, causing you to cough a bit. Joel looks at you with his dark eyes, patiently waiting for your response. You quickly shake your head, still trying to clear your throat from the beer.
"I'm not really interested in the boys around me," you try to sound as casual as you can, but a small smirk still forms at your lips as you watch Joel’s confused expression.
"That so?” He cocks an eyebrow at you, “Why?" Joel looks at your eyes, your fluttering eyelashes as you try to think of an answer. You're wearing one of your pretty dresses again; it's as if you knew he would be here with you tonight. The hem is covered in pink lace, and right at your cleavage, it graces a little pink bow.
"I think- I just," you know what you're trying to say to him, you know exactly what you want him to know, but you're struggling to find the right words. "I prefer them a bit older." Joel looks amused, lips forming into a slight smirk, eyes widening, waiting to hear more, but you stay quiet, averting your eyes from his.
"Is that right, darlin'?" You look up at him, and there's a look in his eyes that wasn't there before. Like he wants something, like he’s waiting for something. His stare and the alcohol in your system give you just enough encouragement to continue.
"Yeah, I've always had a sweet taste for men that are older."
Joel chuckles at that, but he knows you're serious. He has noticed the way you look at him, like you're always trying to seduce him, all your giggles and slight “accidental” touches that he knows are all well planned, that he knows you think about later at night in bed. You giggle and slowly move your hand closer to where he's sitting. His gaze never leaves your eyes, but he can feel the way your hand inches closer. You know in your gut that this is wrong; he is still a married man, but you just want to make him happy, there should be nothing wrong with that. You care about him, you want to show him that you care, and you just want to help. So you slide your hand onto his thigh and see how his breath gets caught in his throat.
"We really shouldn't do this, darlin'," he says, but he also does nothing to stop you. You feel it in your stomach and in your hands, how much you want him, and you see it in his eyes, how much he needs you. You carefully slip onto his lap, swinging your other leg over both of his, your hands resting on his chest.
"I know you're not happy with her, Joel," you state matter-of-factly as you gently slide your hands across his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your palm. He sighs deeply at the touch and the feeling your weight on him, your pretty dress flooding in his lap, the lace on his dark jeans. "And, I know your wife; she wouldn't mind. She would want you to be happy," you bring your other hand to his cheek, touching it gently, a touch he hasn't felt in months.
"I want you to be happy. Please, Joel. Let me do this," you slowly rock your hips against him, feeling the bulge in his pants. He groans, throwing his head back against the couch. "Let me make you happy." Another rock of your hips against his jeans.
"Oh, sunshine, you're beautiful," he breathes out. His eyes are back on you; he's watching you move, eyelids droopy with arousal and need. You smile at the compliment, taking it as your sign to continue, taking it as a yes.
You place both of your hands on his face, bringing his face forward and closing the distance between you two, tasting the beer on each other's mouths. The kiss is gentle, almost like you're both scared of breaking something, of breaking this moment now that you're finally here. Joel grabs your waist with both hands as he guides you to grind your hips at a pace he likes, and you let him. “Fuck—,” he groans, his breathing now slow and deep.
"We can escape, together," a soft moan escapes your lips when Joel's clothed bulge hits just the right spot through your panties, breaking your sentence, "please- We can leave, and you can forget about her."
He doesn't say anything; instead, he kisses your jaw gently, carefully kissing his way down to your neck, then your collarbones, where you can feel his teeth nipping at your skin. You whisper his name softly, like it's a prayer to you, hands now tangled in his dark curls.
"You've always been so beautiful darlin',” Joel whispers into your neck, “Always in your dresses filled with those white laces, those glossy lips, and that sweet scent lingering around you,” his warm breath tickles your skin, causing you to shiver.
"I've thought about you, —about this, many times,” he whispers in a way as if he's confessing his sins to God while he slides your dress over your head.
"Come on, baby, make me forget."
———
note: hi so this is my first fic ever !! ^_^ (the joel brainrot was too much i needed to do this) so idk if its any good or if this will even reach anyone, but please if you do read it i would love to hear your thoughts..?
💘: angel
