#chef joel miller my darling

[penvisions]

zest {chapter one}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Changes are sudden, lifestyles are altered, and important questions bubble up but through it all, you have Joel by your side.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: canon typical language, c'mon reader and joel have potty mouths, age gap (joel is mid 40’s / reader is late 20’s -early 30’s, protective joel, reader is canonically midsize, pregnant reader, surprise pregnancy, reader goes through nicotine withdrawal, smoking, cigarettes, nicotine use, lots of feelings, lots of emotions, complicated family dynamic, reader has family issues, death of a loved one, mention of life-threatening cancer, reader has religious guilt, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry, reader canonically has an eating disorder, mentions of therapy, references to time apart from each other, adult content, smut, piv, unprotected piv be safe y'all!), talk of marriage, adult conversations, joel and reader are down bad for each other.

REMINDER: this is a sequel series, the previous series can be found here {garnish}

A/N: THEY'RE BACK, BABY! ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || masterlist || ko-fi

It’s the perfect spring day: sun shining in a warm but not hot brightness, a gentle breeze rustling the trees as you zip past them, an iced coffee, and the singing figure of Ellie in the passenger seat all make the first half of the day melt away. The amber of your sunglasses allows for everything to be swathed in the honeyed hue and you smile to yourself as you recall a rather heated comment from Joel ‘that every goddamn show feels so creative ‘n artsy when they slap the same tones over Mexico’ and then a softer set of words as he had cuddled closer to you on the couch ‘it’s not really like that, I’ve been there, darlin’, trust me’.

“What’re you all gooey lookin’ for, Sabrosa?” Ellie pauses to catch her breath between songs from the newest pop punk album from a band you first enjoyed in your teenage years. Unable to resist the temptation of adding it to your already laden down basket at the bookstore last week when you and the young girl had ditched Joel to run errands. “Ew, gross, don’t think about my dad while I’m sitting right next to you.”

“Oh hush,” You stuck your tongue out at her. Getting a kick out of how casually she sounded. It hadn’t ever been awkward between you two, or her and Sarah despite the six or so years between your birthdays. But then again, Sarah had let you into the secret of the older guy she had started seeing in her graduate program the last time she had been in town visiting… “It’s nothing dirty, just one of his many rants about my choice in television.”

“Lemme guess….oh! The washed-out way they show Mexico, huh? Cause you were watching…oh fuck, what’s that show called…”

“Breaking Bad.” Was the supplied answer from your lips as you turned on the turn signal and began to slow down to turn into the parking lot for the restaurant. It wasn’t operating hours quite yet, too early yet for the dinner crowd Joel preferred to cater to. But Ellie had a shift, and you were dropping her off after classes. She wasn’t in either of the ones you teach, having completed the two semester course you had started off with. But you both had a class that ended around the same time, living so close to the university, she liked being able to walk but then catch a ride with you. Tradition, the word rang in your head. Routine, followed it and you smiled wider at the way your life had fleshed out.

“That’s the one!” She exclaimed as she unbuckled the seatbelt and leaned back in her chair. “Man, I really don’t have the energy for work today, but the old man said we have a full reservation list and then open seating at the bar.”

“Gonna be that way for a while, the article about him came out only two months ago. Everyone’s clamoring for a chance to try the ‘bursting flavors’ and ‘exciting combinations’ of the renowned Chef Joel Miller.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s hot shit right now, at least the restaurant is.” Reaching for her coffee in an imitation of you, she sipped at the whip cream, caramel whatever it is she had gotten. Coffee wasn’t her favorite, so she always got the espresso taken out, a glorified milkshake Joel had teased her once. “Proud of him, though. The restaurant was in shambles when he bought it from the previous owners, some shitty Italian place that never cleaned anything.”

“He’s done good.” You quietly agree, sipping from your own overly complicated drink. That was another tradition of yours and hers, to make your way through the menu at the coffee shops on campus, always pausing to get the special of the month. Joel claimed he didn’t understand the need for so much stuff mixed in with coffee, but you caught him stealing sips of yours if he were to come across it unattended around the house or when you were out and about with him and treated yourself.

“There’s my girls.” Joel chimes as you input your code into the gate for the employee parking and round the side of the building. His voice filtering in through the open windows as you pull into a spot and cut the engine. He’s leaned against the back of the building, cigarette in hand. “Was wondering what took you so long.”

“Accident on the main road, had to detour.” You appease as he approaches to open the door for you and pressed a greeting kiss to your cheek as you roll up the windows. He does the same for Ellie as she sidles up beside him for a side hug before trotting off to the door and disappearing through it. He let’s you pluck the lit cigarette from his fingers as you shoulder your bag and close the door. His hand goes around your waist to walk alongside you toward the building.

“As long as you two are safe, that’s all that matters. Today’s special is spaghetti all nerano, wanna do some grading here and try a plate?” He takes the smoking roll back from your offered hand and takes the last drag before tossing it into the pale beside the door. Opening it and leading you through it with a hand hovering over your lower back.

“That sounds yummy, I’m starving.” You toss him a smile over your shoulder before greeting everyone with a wave.

It’s well into the third hour of service and you never got the chance to leave once the doors opened. The bar had been struggling, Millie having taken over as manager and Mary trying to appease the picky impatient customers who all want a taste of the raved over menu and a glimpse at the alluring Chef Miller.

Picking up a shaker and twisting a bottle of vodka in your grip, you glance at the ticket that just printed and adjust the amount you free pour into it. Mary had been looked so guilty as she approached you’re the table where you do your work on a regular basis, the question of if you were willing to help out getting drinks started for those waiting on tables barely out of her mouth before you were nodding and cleaning up your stuff. It was now safely tucked away in the office and you were moving at a fast pace behind the bar to keep up with everything. Millie stepped down to let you take the reigns, knowing she would only get in your way. Ellie could be seen picking up and dropping off glasses at the well as often as Millie as she acted as barback.

The restaurant was buzzing, excited conversation and pleasant atmosphere making you remember the tingling high of getting off from a busy shift with a wad of cash tucked into your pocket. Just as you place a strainer over the shaker and begin to pour the contents over six shot glasses the door to the kitchen swings open and Joel walks through. You’re too busy, so you shift the chilled shots to the mat over the well and place the corresponding tickets beside them. Moving onto the next drink, you rinse out the shaker with the star sink in place.

His eyes catch yours through the crowd of people when you look up as Ellie comes up to take the shots and then watching as she delivers them, the sound of the shaker loud in your ear as you hold it over your head. His steps don’t falter as he approaches the table, he was delivering the plate to, but you could see something flash over his face. He’s back behind the door as you move to lodge the shaker open.

The night goes by quickly, taking orders for those lucky enough to snag a spot at the bar but hadn’t been able to make a reservation. Shoving each cash tip into a pint glass for the girls and even taking a few business cards from people interested in hosting parties in the space. You’ll be sure to pass those along to Mary, even if some of them requested you as the bartender. You didn’t mind, missing the atmosphere and good moments you had experienced in the setting. Ellie is taking back the remaining dishes from the last few tables, Millie is out back smoking after helping to clean up the bar top when Joel ambles from the kitchen once again.

He's got his chef’s coat unbuttoned and loose around the shirt underneath, the glint of his belt buckle catching the fairy lights around the bar. His steel curls are slicked back, but you could see the frizz and fluffiness where they rested over the back of his neck. He had been saying he needed a haircut, but you had made a sound in the back of your throat that made him put it off.

His eyes are trained on you as you move the trash cans full of empty bottles to line up beside the drink pick up area. You’re about to return behind the bar with a wink thrown over your shoulder when he snakes his hands around your waist and pulls you to him. He smells amazing, the perfect mix of savory spices, smoke, and Joel.

“Playin’ restaurant, huh? Thought you went home and passed out.” He leans down to kiss your jawline.

“Nah, Mary asked for my help when Millie got swamped.” You breath out, hands coming up to rest on his chest and push should he get a little too enthusiastic in you still being here.

“Not your responsibility.” His eyes hold no real heat or command, you know it’s born from a place of worry, of not wanting you to stretch yourself too thin.

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t mind.” You cradle his cheek in one hand and play with the collar of his open coat with the other. His eyes glance down, the glitter from your lotion catching the light on your neck and chest.

“Hmm, you looked good. Dress looks good on you, shakin’ those drinks and-“

“Dad, holy crap, it was so busy tonight. Some dude tipped me like fifty percent because he was trying to impress his date!” Ellie plops down on a stool with her server’s book. She doesn’t even look up from where she begins to go over the receipts. “Wait until everyone leaves to start doing that or better yet, wait until you’re home to do that.”

“One day you’re gonna meet someone and it’s gonna be hard to keep your hands to yourself.” You only giggle at the typical parent response from Joel. Ellie wasn’t a touchy-feely person, but you were sure she would be with the right person, you’d seen her flirty interactions with girls while out with you and your friends, tagging along for the free drinks and to have safe company. She was pretty smooth if she didn’t get into her head too much, soft touches to shoulders and waists, though she steadfastly refused to dance. With anyone, no matter the setting.

“Gross,” She begins to fill out the printed shift report before organizing the receipts in order and then asks you for the stapler. Detangling yourself from the man, you do make it back behind the bar. That’s when she notices the pint glass. “Holy shit! You made all that?”

“Huh? Oh, no. The restaurant did. Here.” You hand the wad of bills over to Joel. With your own shift report and stapled receipts. He uses two nimble fingers to extract the shift report but leaves the cash in your hand. Frowning, you track the report as it’s tucked into his back pocket along with Ellie’s. Her own cash tips secure in her booklet.

“Also gonna see about getting some of the petty cash from the safe for the hours you worked.” He begins to take the full bags from the trash cans, tying the ends together tight.

“Joel.”

“You worked, you get paid.” He doesn’t look up as he reaches into the bottom for the rolls sitting inside and begins to place new ones over the lips of the plastic.

“I’m your girlfriend. Who used to work here. I was just helping out.”

“Nope, not gonna fly, darlin’. It’s yours.” He slides the empties cans back around the bar for you to put back in their designated places.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.” Ellie reaches for it and you let her swipe it from your hand. Only for Joel to set her with a look. “Oooor not.” She says as she puts it down atop the clean bar top.

“Joel!”

“Can’t hear you, Sabrosa, gotta make sure the kitchen duties were done.”

“Seriously, I’ll take it if you don’t want it.” You quirk an eyebrow at the younger girl, but Millie bounces up and says everyone was going out for a bite at the taco truck parked a few blocks down. They have a spot in a lot that has picnic tables and offer late night service. Ellie takes off, ensuring you she’ll text either you or Joel when she’s back at the townhouse afterwards. She’d been staying the second bedroom there more and more, as you found yourself splitting your time pretty evenly between it and Joel’s. He would join you sometimes, but certain nights either you needed you own space or he did and that was okay.

Sighing, you lock the patron door behind her and turn the sign from open to closed.

As you’re double checking everything is shut down properly, you open the washer to let the last load of glasses air dry, the steam billowing out. Turning when you hear the swing of the kitchen door again, Joel has his chef’s coat tossed over his shoulder and his backpack over the other. His eyes zone in on the cash and then a smirk takes over his face. You turn your attention back to the washer and ensure it’s off before you round the bar top and makes sure it was swept underneath the stools. You’re about to ask him which car you were gonna take home when you spot a crumpled napkin you must’ve missed.

As you bend down to pick it up, you feel thick fingers sneak beneath the skirt of your dress. You don’t think anything of it until you feel Joel tuck a bill from the stack into the band of your panties. Knuckles grazing against your slit as he moves to the other hip and does the same. You shoot up, the napkin forgotten as you try to turn around.

“Nu-uh,” His palms come to rest on your lower back and shoulders, bending you over one of the stools as the heat of his body looms close. He whispers something about having to scrub the video cameras set up around the dining room before you hear the clink of his belt being undone and feel him move your panties to the side. You throb at the feel of the cooler air circulating around the room, a gasp leaving your lips as he gently runs the head of his cock over your folds, arousal from you both making it such a smooth motion.

As he reaches over your back for something, he fills you up, the stretch of his girth feeling like a reward for the hectic shift completed. But you know the night would’ve ended like this either way.

A moan rips from your chest as he grabs a hold of whatever he had been trying to get, hips flush with yours. He chuckles, pleased with himself before his hands sneak around to cup your breasts as they threaten to spill out from your dress at the prone position. His fingers tuck more bills into your underwear, beneath the straps over your shoulders, into the already full cups to peak out over the swell of your chest. He even tucks one into the mess of your hair thrown up into a clip at the back of your head before his hands secure around your waist and he begins to thrust.

That’s the last memory you have of both smoking and drinking, only a few days before you had anxiously waited for a piece of plastic to tell you your fate. It was now a month since finding out, Joel making sure to go with you to get confirming bloodwork and a full physical. The headaches from missing both finally having abated. Joel on the other hand, he was sneaking cigarettes, you could smell the lingering smoke on him when would come home and you were still up. It didn’t really bother you, knowing he indulged for far longer than you had in the bad habit. But you missed the social aspect of the act, of seeking out the designated spots around campus and chatting, of sitting out on the back patio with Tommy as he enjoyed one on the evenings he stopped by with his own little family for dinner.

But it was all worth it, you mused as you poured yourself a cup of steaming water into what was once your coffee mug. Tea was something you indulged in now, the cupboard filled with the different types you were trying to work your way through to see what would help with the onslaught of nausea and also appealed to your tastebuds. You preferred the fruity ones, just like you did with your cocktails, hence the nickname Ellie had graced you with that stuck.

Jingling keys and heavy footsteps signaled you to Joel’s return, the sun still shining on the calm afternoon. He had been gone when you showed up at his house, a cookout planned for the day. Tommy and Maria had been here an hour, the grill just about ready for the first of many things to be cooked and the pool was sparkling as it awaited the arrival of Sarah and Ellie. You had spent the morning cleaning it of debris and adding a few treatment drops. The whole family getting together. It was good, it was a good feeling being surrounded by them all. You and Maria hitting it off even more over the news of what was to come. Her own child now nearing two, she had given birth while you and Joel were split. But you had sent a care package and visited her in the hospital with her favorite takeout.

It was so domestic, so full a life…it made you wonder why you hadn’t been able to experience it as a child yourself.

“Missed ya, darlin’.” Joel steps up behind you and embraces you. Kissing your temple, you feel the frown mar his lips as you don’t respond. “Everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah,” You mumble, turning in his hold and wrapping your arms around his chest. He smells like cinnamon and the grill brick he used while closing up the restaurant after a brunch shift and you breathe him in as you press your face into his broad chest.

“Gotta shower, wanna join me?’

“The girls will be here soon.” You hold him tighter, missing your own family even if it had never been the same as his own. Dinner once a month with your own father, no visits offered or initiated, grandparents raising you since you were young. A mother who had passed early due to complications from cancer she hadn’t known she had until she was pregnant with you herself. “Wanna make sure everything is ready for them.”

He peppers kisses into your hair before pulling away and disappearing upstairs.

The afternoon continues, the smell of grilling meat and roasting vegetables lilting into the air alongside ruckus laughter and bad jokes. Everyone is comfortable around the patio and the in the pool, food served and consumed. Just a few bites left of everything, Joel ensuring you that he would heed your cravings and what you felt like you could stomach, not worried about leftovers lately.

“So when do we get to meet the rest of the Sabrosa clan?” Tommy askes around the lip of his beer bottle. He’s across from you at the table, Joel off by the grill as he messes with something he hadn’t let you sneak a peak at.

“Oh, um…you don’t?” Caught off guard, the bite of food falls from your plastic fork frozen halfway to your mouth.

“No siblings or nothin?”

“Um, well-“ Clearing your throat you take the bite and chew it contemplatively. Honesty or the thinly veiled truth? Your mind is working hard, something Maria must hear in her seat beside you at the patio table. She shoots Tommy a look you catch out of the corner of your eye, trying to keep calm so the child in dozing in her arms doesn’t stir. “I’ve got two half-siblings, but we don’t keep in contact much.”

“They gonna be at the wedding?”

“What wedding?” “Oh my god, dad! You proposed and didn’t tell us!” Ellie and Sarah holler from where they’re in the pool, one of them resting on a floating device and the other is practicing her laps to get more comfortable in the water. Joel turns from where he was ensuring the grill was off and brings over the s’mores dip he had just let melt to perfection. Your stomach rumbles at the sight of the gooey swirl of marshmallow and dark chocolate, of the rye biscuits he must’ve whipped up at work steaming beside it in a single use tin. Set up with a divider in the middle.

“Haven’t proposed to ‘er yet, quit it.” He sits it down atop a trivet, but no one makes a move to reach for it until he gives the go ahead. But he doesn’t until he’s got one of the dark biscuits covered in the dip and set in front of you. Then it was fair game as the girls begin to swim across the length of the pool, or well Sarah tries to glide her floaty across while Ellie does. Tommy readies one for Maria before making his own, quirking an eyebrow at you as he watches the pull of the dip.

“But your dad is gonna walk you down the aisle, right?” Tommy presses on, not catching onto the awkward way you were shifting in your seat or how you had placed your fork down to rest on the edge of your paper plate. The dessert untouched. But you don’t get to think of an answer before one is flying from your emotionless face.

“Can’t, he’s dead.”

Silence falls over the once happy and jovial backyard, the splash of Sarah slipping from her floating longue echoing.

“Tommy.” Joel’s voice is firm as he pins his brother with a mild glare. Maria is equally unpleased with her husband’s penchant for talking without thinking, not reading the room. He yelps as she kicks his shin underneath the table.

“It’s okay, wasn’t much of a father when he was alive anyway.” You reach for the mocktail you had made a pitcher of for you and the girls to enjoy. No one says anything as you pour yourself another and take a sip from it. Not liking the tension that had crept into the atmosphere, you gather up your nearly empty plate and stack it atop Maria’s to take inside, making more room for the messy dessert. Slinking away, you feel Maria reach out a hand to trail down your arm, comforting you before you’re gone back into the house.

“You dumbfuck.” Ellie mutters under her breath, earning a glare from Joel over his shoulder for her language. But he doesn’t disagree. You do, but it wasn’t his fault. How was Tommy supposed to know he had picked the one subject you had nothing good to say about?

“Shit, I- holy shit.” Tommy’s voice follows you before he yelps a second time as Joel brandishes the still warm tongs from serving biscuits.  

“Way to shove your foot in your mouth, we were havin’ a good time.”

“I didn’t know! I thought she was just quiet about her family not that she didn’t have any.”

“Tommy, you’re the father of my child and my husband but you are seriously so stupid sometimes.”

“Dad, she-she doesn’t have any family?” Sarah is tearing up, affected by the sudden realization of why you never brought anyone around except for a friend every once in a while. She could understand not having a mother, as her own was so distant, only showing up when she needed something or felt lonely in the life she created for herself. But to not have a dad? That was all she knew and she couldn’t fathom how her life would have been without him in it;.

“She’s got us, baby girl.” Joel goes to run a hand over her shoulder and press a kiss to the fluff of her kinky curls as she stands beside the pool set into the ground outside the patio. He wraps the towel she brought out around her and rubs it across her shoulders before lifting his hands. “We’re her family, pretty good deal, huh?”

“Dad….”

“She’ll be okay, I promise.”

The laid back vibe from the afternoon returns once everyone piles into the living room to watch the season finale of an admittedly awful reality tv show. But everyone was hooked and harmless bets were made on who would cause the most drama and how things would end. You’re a little subdued, but you make comments along with everyone else and laugh at the absurdity of what happens on the screen.

Stepping out of the bath you had decided to soak in, you startle when you see Joel sat on the small bench in the master bathroom across from the vanity as you pull back the shower curtain. He’s already changed into his sleep pants, his freckled and bronzed chest on display through the steam.

“Darlin’, why didn’t you tell me your dad was passed?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.” You stand in front of him, taking in the way he watches you through the mirror as you press a bead of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and wet it before popping it into your mouth. A heavy silence fills the room, tangling with the rose scented steam from the bubble bar you had used. The pink water swirling down the sink a near silent hum.

“It-uh, kinda does. Makes me feel…like a whole wedding would be…”

“You don’t have to ask me. We don’t have to get married if it’s going to be a problem.” Shoving down the worries and residual guilt of being raised in a certain religious culture at the thought of having a child out of wedlock, having a child as a single woman you catch the man’s gaze through the mirror. The burn of embarrassment simmers beneath your skin, shame for feeling such embarrassment sparkling behind it, creating a swirl of emotions you hadn’t wanted to feel this close to bed with an early class. You want to marry him, to experience that with him, to live life together as husband and wife, but it feels perfunctory when you didn’t even believe in the reasoning behind why you felt that way. He’s frowning, his brows knit close together, something off in the depths of his brown eyes.

“It’s not a problem…right?” You see the worry flickering through him, in the way his eyes shift and the way he clenches his fists in his lap. “I just…you know you’re a part of the Millers. Have been since the moment you caught my attention, but baby…I don’t want you to feel lonely if it’s my family and your friends.”

“Are you insinuating because I don’t have a family of my own, I’m somehow missing something?” Anger flared hot and sticky in you, washing out the embarrassment. The heat from your bath making it so much worse and you cross the room to pull the door open. Back at the vanity, you ignore his gaze and rinse out your mouth before moving on to clean and moisturize your face. He’s quiet behind you, knowing he phrased his sentiment wrong and this…this communication was new for you both. Still hard sometimes as you both realize how deep some things run and how different you could be.

“You know I’m not.” The gaze he has trained on you reminds you of the way he would watch you through the kitchen, tensions high as you both couldn’t seem to get your heads out of the dirt and just be honest with each other. A time that had passed, allowing for the present to bloom.

“Then a wedding wouldn’t be a problem. But it’s kind of moot, you haven’t proposed.” You don’t anticipate the slight edge to the words as they leave your lips, but they slice through the air. You feel shame overtake the waning anger, making your face hot underneath your massaging hands. The burn of tears threaten to ruin the routine you just completed and you hiccup as your hands flatten atop the vanity, head hanging between your shoulders. You do not like this, but you have no idea where it’s coming from. It really doesn’t bother you that he hasn’t asked. You know he has the intention to, the agreement of a visit to town hall and then a small party to celebrate. Nothing fancy, nothing crazy, simple.

“Hey,” He whispers as he comes up behind you, hands resting over the quick beating of your heart, his naked chest pressed to your back, the damp towel the only thing separating you. But you can feel his own heart between your shoulder blades, strong and sturdy. Grounding you in the way you had explained you preferred when overwhelmed. “I promise I wasn’t trying to upset you, just want you to be comfortable, to have everything you deserve.”

You let him help you to dry off the rest of your body, lotion lovingly applied to your body by his hands before you slip into a nightgown and slip between the sheets beside him. You kiss an apology to his lips, needing him to know that it was just initial panic and not the real way you thought or felt. He accepts it and offers one of his own, lips pressed to your chest, right over your heart before sleep takes ahold of you both.

“I said don’t.” You warned, no humor in your voice. You had tried and failed to put on every one of your pairs of pants, jeans, leggings, and none of them were comfortable. None of them zipped, buttoned, or stretched enough underneath the slight bump that had seemingly blossomed overnight. Joel was sprawled on the bed, working his way to getting up at the late hour. He had been at the restaurant late, later than usual as they had a party stay well after service hours. He had let the staff go on time, ensuring they would get the tip out but not wanting them to have to stay once all the cleaning and side work was done. One of the many things you adored about the man, his willingness to heed situations like that in favor of his staff even if he was gruff and to the point most of the day.

“Didn’t say nothin’, darlin’.” He rumbled from beneath the sheets, tan skin looking deliciously golden paired with the pale pink set you had insisted changing from the white that had previously been curled around the mattress. You had woken up with bad cramps last month, terrified something had happened as you pulled back the covers to find blood spotting the pristine fabric. A quick trip the emergency room as he shared in your panic, albeit in a more controlled way, assured you that spotting was normal during the early months of pregnancy.

“Dress...” You muttered to yourself, hand cradling around the small bump. Joel only hummed, stretching out to alleviate his sore body, thick legs appeared from beneath the fabric. Your eyes traced the long lines of his body through the mirror atop the dresser, drinking in the sight of him and your body began to thrum with arousal. When your eyes roved up the expanse of his broad chest dusted with dark hair to his face, he was smirking at you with an eyebrow arched in a silent question of how long you would ignore his deliberate departure from the bed.

You had all but jumped him when he got home last night, papers you were grading scattered all around you on the couch and coffee table, a Josh Gates show on the television for moral encouragement. He had teased you once about your affinity for the man but you had clapped back with his borderline obsession with Anthony Bourdain, to which he simply said ‘can’t help it darlin’, the man knew his shit’.

The dinner he had brought home had been tossed to the entry way table, as you knelt down to help remove him from his shoes and pants. Mouthing at the line of him through his boxer briefs before he could even get his keys hooked on the mirror over the table. He had been prepared to find you fast asleep, a different kind of tired taking hold of you more and more, almost demanding naps during the day when you got home from campus and right before dinner if you hadn’t worked. But you had sprung up from your spot and welcomed him home, the food forgotten in favor of getting your fill of the man that had been consuming your thoughts. The thought makes his cock fill, twitching underneath the sheets as he recalls your enthusiasm.

He sees the way your eyes dilate at the movement, the hush of his hand skimming down to grip himself.

Suddenly, you’re no longer debating over the clothing flowing from the draws inside the closet or those of the dresser. You peeled the pants you had been fruitlessly trying to zip up and nearly threw yourself at him. He greedily accepts your frantic kisses, starting from his shins and all the way up neck to finally connect with his own. He groans at the taste of coffee you had allowed yourself this morning, his own cup still steaming on the bedside table. His glasses beside it, his cellphone lighting up only to be ignored.

“Does mama need some attention?” He breathes into your open mouth, large palms caressing the exposed skin of your hips. His hands graze your middle, and you shy away from him, self-conscious of the extra jiggle, the stretchmarks from rapid weight fluctuation of your years now accommodating the swell of the beginning signs of the life you two had created together. “Hey, no, c’mere.”

You’re sure he sees the flicker of emotions across your face before you school it into a cool arch of your brow, the playful smirk of your lips. Falling back on bravado that wanes far too quickly these days as your hormones ping pong all over the place. You were just as apt to burst into silent tears as you were to jump him, confusing for you and devasting for him as he tries to read your moods as well as he can. He was hoping to dislodge the habit of you seeking refuge in the townhouse you had gifted Ellie, her own budding relationship prompting her to ask for her own space just as the new stage of your life became known to them. Equal parts of respect for the more tender and tense moments sure to happen and yearning for her own space again.

“Mama needs some new clothes, wanna spoil me?” Your voice is a confident hush, hands reaching forward to urge him to shift closer, both of you on your sides and facing each other.

“Do anythin’ for you, darlin’, you know that.” His teeth sunk into the curve of your neck, tugging you back to him. That seemed to get you to forget your insecurities as he felt you pull him closer, your smaller hands so soft on his chest as they caressed his skin.

“I think I wanna go to that fancy mall, maybe get some pretty underwear that won’t make me feel like a total loser.”

“I’ll take ya anywhere you want, maybe even that big shopping center in Dallas? It’ll be just like the trip we took to Arizona. Could get a hotel, see the sights and just relax. Hear they have a mac and cheese restaurant in the arts district.” He rolls to pin you down, and you move to allow him space between your legs instinctually. Body hovering over yours as he kisses down your neck, your chest, he lets his words sink in. The bralette you had put on doing nothing to hide the perk of your nipples. He laps at them through the thin fabric, delighting in the way it makes you arch up into him. You were so sensitive to his touch lately, your body on high alert as your hormones fluctuate erratically.

“That’s a lot, Joel. Shouldn’t we-“ Your hesitant words are cut off by a searing kiss, the press of his skin against yours making it hard to keep your train of thought.

“We should do what we want, darlin’. Wanna get everything sorted to go this weekend?”

Tears are suddenly pitter pattering over the sheets, darkening the fabric where they land after rolling down the sides of your face. He pushes his weight from where it pressed you to the bed, back on your sides and you let him, unable to stem the tears.

“Oh hey, hey it’s okay,” Joel crowds close, the thin fabric separating your bodies as you bury your face in his neck and curl your legs up, knees pressing into his stomach. Hiccups startle you both as you find it suddenly hard to breath through the onslaught of emotions spiking. “Hey now, darlin’, it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry,” You mumble into his skin, embarrassment flaring up hot in your cheeks and chest. You feel so silly, pulled in too many directions in so quick a succession. “I just…you’re so hot and I’m all bloated and my skin feels all tight and I really want some ice cream.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re happily spooning a sundae into your mouth with a red plastic spoon in the passenger seat of his truck. All the tears and frustration gone from you as you held tight to the treat in your hands with far too many flimsy napkins. He’s got a cigarette dangling from the hand he rests on the inside of the door, trying to keep as much smoke from wafting back into the cab as possible. Errands, today was an errand day and you smiled over at him. Pairs of sunglasses meeting, eyes hidden beneath them. He just leans over to press a kiss to your temple, not wanting to disrupt your enjoyment of the ice cream you literally cried over.

next chapter

taglist: @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker @clevergirl74 @anavatazes @samiamproductions @76bookworm76 @tuquoquebrute @sarap-77 @koshkaj-blog @corazondebeskar-reads @ozarkthedog @littlemisspascal @endlessthxxghts @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @sawymredfox @cumberpegg @grandanchorkitten @noisynightmarepoetry

@regalwhovianbrowncoat774

@pazizz

[penvisions]

oh my gosh, the way i giggled when i saw this!

i would be dead, d e a d if that happened

Pedro Pascal with Jeremy Allen White and Ayo Edebiri

by Matt Sayles for the 30th SAG Awards

[penvisions]

zest {chapter 3}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Your time away with Joel starts now and he makes you feel all kinds of things.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: canon typical violence (fleeting), canon typical language, canon typical angst, rude people, offensive behavior, body shaming, fat shaming, reader gets shoved one (1) time, reader defends herself, brief misogyny, feral joel, joel beats the crap out of someone, joel goes into protective mode, threatening words, worldview of pregnangy being a negative thing, fat shaming, body shaming, reader is canonically mid-size, illusions to smut, adult content, pet names (darling, baby, love), the term slut used affectionately, some mild spice, flirting, they're insufferable your honor. um i think those are all the major ones pls let me know if i need to add more!

REMINDER: this is a sequel series, the previous series can be found here {garnish}

A/N: hi y'all, it's been a whirlwind lately! been trying to figure out the flow of this and i think i was maybe attempting to force this chapter to be more than this and it just wasn't working + made me frustrated. but you know what? not every chapter has to be massively 3k+, it can just be what feels and flows right, so here y'all go. i hope you enjoy these two as much as i do

ao3 link || series masterlist || joel miller masterlist || ko-fi

He's been quiet since leaving the museum, something he had surprised you with a flyer for. He had picked it up in the lobby, had done some research online as he mumbled about some certain paintings, he thought you’d like that were on display, Ellie’s influence strong in his words. His desire to be a good provider and make this trip something to remember. Not that that was too hard, any time spent with Joel was good time, from easy jokes to teasing banter, soft moments as you both reveled in the life you two were leading, the life you two were creating.

Where he had let you guide him from countless exhibits to plentiful ornately framed paintings with a hand clasped around his own. He had seemed engaged enough, eyes alight as you turned to him with wide smiles and small giggles of excitement at the more interesting pieces. It had turned into a little game of 'weirdest little guy' where you each pointed to people and animals in the backgrounds and declared, 'it's you'. He had been the first to start it, by pointing out a woman dressed from head to toe in a tavern maids outfit brandishing a large knife. She had been shouting, her brow heavy and her expression heated.

You had followed his lead by pointing to a rather disgruntled lumberjack in the back of depicting a wintery landscape with a cabin. Though the man impressed in ink had been bald and rather terrified of the approaching bear.

From cats with too human faces, to frogs that looked stunned, to the most bruised or oddly shaded piece of fruit in a bunch or bowl, it had occupied you both throughout the whole building, through everything there was to see. He had brandished a newer, shinier credit card at the gift shop. allowing you the treat of stickers and a coffee mug you had cooed and awed over. But you knew it was the little onesie with colorful peach you had said was him printed on the front.

"To commemorate our first outing as a little unit." You felt so light, so free. Hormones letting you just be yourself at the moment, even if you had to stop to pee quite often. You had said so at the register, the clerk asking after your meaning behind picking it out. Your hands cradling your growing belly as you did so, delighting in the little kicks you had felt stir up as you stood in front of particular pieces. Stirring up at the combined laughter between you and Joel, so much so that you had gotten hushed from a security guard that made it even harder to cut it out. You're picturing the mirth and careful smile on his face even as he held a finger to his mouth in a motion to be quiet, chest rumbling with laughter even as he did so.

But now he was quiet beside you, as he guided the truck into a spot of a rapidly filling parking lot. He's not in a bad mood, per se, but you can sense he's quieted over something in his mind.

"Did- did you enjoy the museum?" You feel silly, like an awkward interloper that first day you had walked in for a first shift at the restaurant. Unaware of how things operated, hesitant to ask where to put your bag or where to get a clean apron from since you hadn't been able to locate yours. Like you had that morning you had woken up to him in your apartment, having slept on the couch after making sure you got home safely. The conversation that had followed, the uncertainty, the almost reproachful way you had asked him what was going on with him, with you, between you both. You feel the same slightly tense and on edge energy around him now as you did back then, when he gave you an impromptu tour of the space and then left you with paperwork to fill out.

You have no clue why perhaps it's the default to being out of town with him. Like there are parts of you he's yet to see and would caste judgement on. Though you know the worst he would do is tease you over something as benign at the way you idle on in the bathroom or fawn over street cats for far too long with a soft, silly coo or the places you tend to pick for coffee being on the extravagant side. 

He thought over his answer, guiding the truck into the parking lot of a coffee house. He had said he would turn a blind eye to whatever decaf drinks you decided to indulge in while out of town. The coffee shop you had seen online garnering your attention and he memorized the drive from the museum.

He’s getting out of the truck, rounding the hood and opening the door as he speaks.

"Not really my cup of tea, but it's yours, darlin'. Do anythin' to spend time with ya and I figured this would light you up like a christmas tree." He's smiling softly at you now, his lips looking perfectly kissable beneath his thick moustache and trimmed facial hair. Face shifting from introspective to present, returning to you and feeding off your nervousness in a way you knew he hoped would settle it.

"I do ramble a lot about stuff from my studies, huh." You can't help the feeling of adoration that floods heat in your face, almost like you've got a schoolgirl crush on the man beside you, despite the ring on your finger and the bump of your belly. His hands are warm on you as they help to steady your movements out of the passenger seat, the tall cab a little daunting and the worry of falling in the forefront of your mind. You were being so cautious, words of failed pregnancies your step mother had cited for the deterioration of your parents relationship.

"Yeah, but I listen to every word even if I don't understand it all." He's brushing those delectable lips against the apple of your cheek. "Listen to ya ramable all day, even if it's about nothin'."

"You're smart too, Joel." Insistent words that are swept away with a brush of his hand over your shoulder. But you can see the way his ears tinge pink at the tops, he's smitten at the idea of you thinking so, even if he doesn't himself.

"Not the same way you are, darlin'. Got math and science smarts, practical. You got the artsy smarts, fun and entertaining. Same as Ellie."

"You and Sarah, me and Ellie. We all balance each other out." You lean up into his space, determined for him to hear the good things you have to say about him. He's a good man, just a little rough around the edges. And he was yours.

"We do, don't we. Perfect little family, all for you." He meets you halfway, pressing his lips to yours and stirring butterflies in your ribcage. "You complete us, sabrosa. Been waitin' for you my entire life."

"I've been searching for you my entire life, I just didn't know it, Mr. Miller." His eyes are hooded as he takes in the sight of you so close, pressed to him and held tight by his arms around your waist, your own around his shoulders.

"Glad to have been found, Mrs. Miller." Another kiss, little whimpers telling him exactly how you feel about the confession, the truth of his words that he had tumbled over in his mind every day you were apart. You were his and you were back in his life where you belonged.

It's a little loud, the establishment crowded around the lunch hour. But it's the comforting scent of roasting coffee and the lingering scent of Joel’s cologne on the front of his shirt as he holds you to his chest with his hands around your ribs. Sighing, you look over the menu wanting for each and every interesting flavor combination. But you know you get one today, that’s what you’d limited yourself too because decaf was only so much better than regular espresso. There was no true way to roast out every last bit of caffeine even if the doctor had also agreed a few indulges throughout the pregnancy wouldn’t cause any harm.

“What’re you gonna get?” Joel’s fingers tap lightly at your stomach, the little kicks still going and endlessly entertaining him. Small taps elicited responses more times than not, something you were sure you would never tire of. The feeling of the small being growing inside of you, already so enamored with Joel softening something deep inside of you.

“I think maybe one of macadamia combination ones. Sounds yummy.”

“You know what else sounds…yummy?” His nose is a distraction as it brushes along the back of your head, almost near your ear as he leans closer to it and rumbles his taunting words.

“Joel Miller, if you do anything that prevents me from enjoying my coffee, I swear-“

“Relax, darlin’.” He nips at the top of your ear, causing you to snort at the tickling sensation. “Not gonna come between you and your coffee. Just lettin’ you know where my mind is at.”

“Slut.” You smirk to yourself as he freezes momentarily, allowing you to step out of his hold and toward the counter. You order the macadamia and white chocolate latte, hot and decaf. When asked if that was all for the order, you turn to find Joel closing the gap of a few feet with a smirk of his own.

“I’ll take a blended mocha chip, medium please.” You catch his eyes as he glances at you out of the corner of his own. “Gonna get you back for that, pretty girl.”

“What?” It’s kinda true.” A tongue is stuck out and his eyes dilate every so slightly as he presses the same shiny black credit card to the reader. Never once breaking the contact.

“Then what do you call someone who nearly had me pulling over because she couldn’t keep her mouth to herself on a four hour drive?” He questions lowly as he steps away from the register, wallet going back into the butt pocket of his pants.

“Your fiancé.” You smile sweetly at him, an eyebrow raised in a silent challenge. His chuckle is a low vibration against your shoulder as he shuffles you toward the pickup end of the counter. He’s filthy, but so are you. There’s no denying it, even in jest. That part of your relationship had gotten off to a rocky start but once it had kicked off, damn if that wasn’t something you two were committed to no matter what. The physical attraction so strong, the desire for each other never waning, it’s what started this in the first place and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re too right, perfect match.” Lips curled up in matching smile, you wonder if his heart skips beats and his stomach flips just like yours. Later you find out exactly what you to do him, when he grunts it into your ear as he fills you from behind.

It happens when you’re waiting at the end of the counter for pick up, Joel having run off to the restroom.

“Move your fat ass, tryin’ to get up to the drinks.” You’re shoved harshly with an elbow before the words even register. Your balance sways and your hair tousles to cover your face as you try to reach a hand out to catch yourself on the counter top, but your nails don’t gain any purchase. You collapse hard on the floor. Your palms sting as you try to prevent from landing flat, worry taking over as you do your best to avoid any pressure or damage to your middle. The guy is grumbling as he watches, the remnants of his coffee sloshed around the ceramic and splashed onto his crips white dress shirt.

“Sabrosa!”

Before you could even blink, Joel is right there helping you back up to your feet, a comforting hand on your stomach and on your shoulder as he looks you over. His full lips are a thin line, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he grinds his teeth, but you know it isn’t aimed at you. At your small nod and tight-lipped smile, his hands fall from you and your turn with your arm crooked back. The crack of your fist on the guy’s jaw breaks the jovial atmosphere and everything goes silent as he falls hard on his ass. The ceramic shatters and the remnants of his latte fly into the air.

“Fuckin’ bitch!”

“You assault my girl and didn’t expect anything to happen?” Joel demands angrily as he partially shields you with his own body, unsure if the man will retaliate. He’d gladly let you get in a hit, but you know he’d be damned if someone laid a hand on you. You’d seen it firsthand before, more than once. You’re your own person, as you’ve proven time and time again. Something he rather enjoyed about you, something you hoped he would continue to find endearing. Even as your attitude flared sometimes.

“She was in the way, it was barely a little shove!”

“You steamrolled me, asshole!” You step out from behind Joel a little, anger flaring and temper coming to bat. It was bad enough you had nearly fallen completely in on yourself but to then be brushed off and told it was nothing? You weren’t about to take it with a forced, polite smile and a feeling of guilt for not having handled the situation better later on in the evening.

“She’s pregnant, you fuckin’ idiot!” Joel roars, one of his boots coming down unnervingly close to the guy’s hand as he sets it flat to try and get back up. Lips frowning part to argue, but loud footsteps of workers rushing off to grab a manager cut him off. “You could’ve hurt her or my child with your reckless behavior!”

“Joel-“ You try to pull at his forearm, urging him to calm down. The veins showing in his skin and you can’t help the drag of your eyes across the length of them. Your stomach flips, body and mind reacting to the way he’s standing tall in front of you, ready to defend. It’s making your body hum, the way he’s so willing, so quick to protect. His instincts appealing to the most base part of your brain, your own reacting to them in a way that is utterly and completely primal.

“You knocked up the fat chick and you’re upset at me? Man, you’re in need of something stronger than coffee.” He’s trying to get back up, but Joel’s closing in on him.

“You ever talk about a woman that way again and I will end you!” Joel’s shouting as he allows you to pull him back, his chest heaving and his frizzy curls in disarray. His arm is putty in your hands, thick fingers tangling with yours in a comforting move even as his attention is focused on the man still on the ground.

“I think it’s best if you pick yourself up and leave, sir.” A large man in a plain black outfit approached, his hands on his hips. You don’t bother to respond to him, instead tugging Joel with you as you begin to walk toward the door.

“C’mon Joel, let’s just go too. I want to leave.”

“There’s no need for that, you two are welcome to stay.” The guy who you assume is the manager looks up at you as he crouches down to take the still fuming and arguing man. His polite but genuine smile falls as he hoists the man up and begins to walk him to the door. “We don’t tolerate hateful behavior here, you’re banned.”

“This is bullshit!” His shirt gets ruffled, his outfit wrinkling as he’s manhandled out across the floor. You jump as a hand gently brushed your shoulder, causing you to tense your hand around Joel’s and twirl to the left. Your confusion and slight worry eases when you see it was the barista that had taken your order.

“You’re drinks are ready, love. Are you okay?” Her smile is soft, the drinks offered to you. “That was quite a fall, do you need any water or want to sit down to catch your breath?”

You shake your head slowly, not wanting to remain in the café even if things were turning around and the atmosphere had gone back to what it was when you first entered. The music is playing softly again, though you’re sure it had never gone out, never actually cut to silence anywhere except for in your awareness.

Joel only turns to face her once the offensive man is shoved out the door. Your hand leaves Joel’s to reach for the do go cups, the warmth of the freshly made drinks sinking into your palms and calming you after the tense ordeal. The barista nods to Joel, her eyes wide and roving. You feel jealously wake up inside you as she takes his form in, even with you right beside him. The signs of your devotion to each other clear, from the defense he had taken for you to the way he’s surveying the café for any other signs of trouble. She’s holding out a small bag, her face visibly flushed when his fingers graze hers to accept it.

“We’ve also refunded your transaction, sir. And included a few things from the pastry case for the trouble.” Her hands are clasped in front of her now, the apron over her front marred with dried foam from steamed milk and espresso grounds. She’s pretty, she’s skinny. You can’t help the insecurity that bubbles up, she’s young and her eyes contain the same lust for life you had when you first moved away from home. You aren’t sure if you’re jealous of her obvious attraction to your fiancé or the attraction to life she exudes. She doesn’t seem to carry any mental burdens, like you had from glancing at what lies behind her eyes. But then again, you hadn’t appeared to either while clocked in and focused on working.

“That’s mighty kind of ya, many thanks.” His left arm curls around your waist, his lips brushing your temple once again. The girl nods before turning on her heel and retreated back behind the counter. “Do you want to stay, darlin’? You were so excited to sit in and look at all the photographs on the wall.”

“I…I would like to go, please.” You look up at him, catching his eye feeling off kilter. Social battery completely drained and yearning for the privacy of your lush hotel room and a bath.

“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel. We can take it easy until our evening reservations. How about I run us a nice, hot bubble bath, hmm?” His hand curls and guides you to stand directly in front of him, eyes searching your face. “We can soak until we’re all pruned up and I’ll even run it a little hotter for your comfort. Sound good?”

“I love you.” You surge up and press your lips to his cheek. His smile when you pull back grips around your heart and your stomach flips again, butterflies bursting to life. You do, you love him with everything you are, with everything you transformed into. His love in return the only thing that made you feel like you never had before. He was right, he had been waiting for you while you wandered and figured out what it was you wanted. You weren’t sure you had ever even explicitly voiced it or even discovered what it was beyond getting your credentials and teaching. But he had helped you to discover that what you wanted was a life with him. A simple, nurturing and real relationship with someone who saw you for exactly who you were.

You wanted to make sure he knew that as you connected your lips with his smiling ones.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes, hmm? Somethin’ tells me you got some thoughts swirling around in that pretty head of yours.” He whispers against them, breath hot and teeth teasing your bottom one for the barest of seconds, the action sending a shiver down your spine. All you can do is nod as he pivots and leads you back to the truck.

previous chapter || next chapter

taglist: @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker @clevergirl74 @anavatazes

@samiamproductions @76bookworm76 @tuquoquebrute @sarap-77 @koshkaj-blog

@corazondebeskar-reads @ozarkthedog @littlemisspascal @endlessthxxghts

@its-nebuleuse @guiltyasdave @sawymredfox @cumberpegg @grandanchorkitten

@noisynightmarepoetry @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @pazizz @pullingattheroots

@bunniboo0015 @anoverwhelmingdin @copperhalfcent @starry-eyes-love

[penvisions]

ch. 1 sneakie peek {zest}

planning on going to the library tomorrow to upload a few things and organize my masterlists but wanted to drop this here for y’all, the first lil peek at what’s to come for {zest} and sequel to {garnish}

As you bend down to pick it up, you feel thick fingers sneak beneath the skirt of your dress. You don’t think anything of it until you feel Joel tuck a bill from the stack into the band of your panties. Knuckles grazing against your slit over the fabric as he moves to the other hip and does the same. You shoot up, the napkin forgotten as you try to turn around.

“Nu-uh,” His palms come to rest on your lower back and shoulders, bending you over one of the stools as the heat of his body looms close.

taglist: @tuquoquebrute @janaispunk @hiddenbabynyc @76bookworm76 @sarap-77

@littlemisspascal @pazizz @corazondebeskar @corazondebeskar-reads @clevergirl74

@anavatazes @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@cumberpegg @jessthebaker @endlessthxxghts @its-nebuleuse

[penvisions]

dev expands the {garnish} universe

@tuquoquebrute is such a lovely person and very nicely requested for an immediate follow up of chef! joel miller and professor! reader's (formally known as bartender! reader) first date. working slowly on it, but i did make the chapter header!

lemme know if you want to be tagged when it does make its appearance!

was blown away by the attention the valentine's day one shot got but i do love these two with all my heart and i'm not ready to let them go ♡

[penvisions]

zest of life {garnish one shot sneakie peek}

the very lovely and sweet @tuquoquebrute requested a one shot for this universe and it is finally underway! also going to use this as my WIP wednesday post since i was tagged by @joelsgreys and @for-a-longlongtime, thank y'all so much for the interaction ♡

np tags: anyone who wants to play along!

[penvisions]

zest {chapter four}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Time is a funny thing, isn't it? You and Joel traverse the ups and downs of the pregnancy, doing your best to keep up.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: canon typical language, reader is canonically mid-size and of hispanic origin, adult content, smut, oral (f receiving), use of daddy, age gap, utter filth between two infatuated people, p in v, unprotected p in v, pet names (darling, baby, love), teasing as a form of flirting -they're insufferable your honor, serious conversations, confessions of feelings of inadequacy, mentions of family trauma and drama, reader is in her own head in this, talks of pregnancy and childbirth, slight angst, road trip vibes, slight time jump(s), the photos used in the header are only a rough head cannon of what reader looks like and mostly for the ~vibes - nothing is set in absolute stone, i think that's it!

Fic Notes: this is a sequel series; the previous fic can be found here -> {garnish}

A/N: so proud of myself for not forcing this chapter, letting it sit and my mind wander about them as a whole for a few months really helped me to find my way back to them. special shoutout to @tuquoquebrute for sending in an ask ages ago for a baby shower scene, i hope it's everything you imagined and more

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

The hotel room is bathed in soft pink sunlight that glows through the drawn curtains, closed in the wake of your slight headache. But it’s the last thing on your mind as you let out a low, drawn-out moan. Your back is flush with the soft bed, unmade and the sheets are tangled and falling off the edge of it as Joel is nestled in them. Using them as a cushion for his knees atop the plush carpet of the room, just for an added comfort as he firmly holds your hips in place lavishes his tongue in swooping swirls over your clit.

You’re drenched, slick coating his lips and face as he buries it between your thighs. His grip tight around your thighs as he holds them open, ever so effortlessly keeping them from snapping shut around his ears as he practically makes out with your core. It’s messy the way your arousal seeps from you, coating his face, his saliva mixed in and running in thick drips down to soak the white sheets of the hotel bed.

The feel of his warm tongue tracing over your puffy lips and swollen nub, his thick fingers curled inside you and hitting that perfect spot that makes you clench tightly around them. The feel of his proud nose buried in the thatch of thick curls that sit right above it all, soaked too from the devotion he’s giving to you as the sun begins to peek up above the horizon.

The swell of your stomach prevents you from seeing anything other than the sweaty curls plastered to his forehead, the heat in the room and between your humming bodies stifling in the best way.

“My sweet girl, always taste so fucking good.” He pulls pleasure from your body like it’s his sole purpose in life, gently moving his fingers in and out as you throw your head back to shout out his name and clench tightly around them. His tongue replaces them as he licks up the release that smears across your inner thighs, scruff tingling over your skin in an overwhelming way.

“Ah, Joel, ‘s too much, baby.” He moves you up into the center of the bed, crawling over you. The heft of his cock drags over your thighs, smearing glistening precum as it does. And you whine, as he takes himself in the thick curl of his hand and taps the swollen head against your clit. Your hips jerk, you clench around nothing and his dark chuckle

“I think you like it,” He’s dragging himself through your slick folds, head catching just slightly against your entrance each time he does.

“F-fuck off,” You can’t help but slur, the empty threat cut off in a sharp gasp as he suddenly fills you, hands gripping around your knees to wrap them around his waist. He throbs where he’s nestled, and it makes your head swim.

“That’s such bad language, momma,” He tuts, teeth glinting as he smirks down at you. “Why don’t I work it all out of you before the baby comes, hmm?”

"Y-yes, daddy."

All you can do is dig your nails into his shoulders and hold on for dear life as he begins to snap his hips into the cradle of yours, pushing you both up the length of the bed with the force of his movements. In the back of your mind, you’re sure the people on the other side of the wall must hate your guts for being the annoying couple who can’t seem to keep their hands off of each other.

But honestly, you couldn’t care less. You’d take being the annoyingly smitten couple over being the one where sex becomes a routine, choreographed dance that takes place Tuesday nights with no lights on and underneath the covers. You’d take Joel at his most feral and spilling filth from sinfully delicious lips to the soft, slow and syrupy mornings any time, any day, for the rest of your life.

“Joel, I just really wanna go home, take a nice hot bath and get into bed before I have to start planning out the summer semester syllabus.” You feel the fatigue of the trip catching up with you, no matter how much fun it had been. The perfect little getaway has drained you as you enter your second trimester, body working overtime now, but thankfully the nausea seems to have worn off.

Beside you, Joel reaches out a hand to palm your thigh, understanding and concern wafting off of his focused frame in such an easy way. His brows furrow as he glances down at his phone in the cupholder when the screen flashes with a notification.

“C’mon, just lemme stop at the restaurant to grab somethin’ real quick. Check on Ellie, she’s been blowing up my phone about when we get back.” His voice holds your attention more than his words, it’s dipped low, almost a deep whine as he takes your hand in his and raises it to press a kiss to the top of it.

Your new ring catches the sunlight and softens you just as much as the man’s words. He’s such a good father, to the two kids he’s raised all alone. He’s a good man, who even if he prolongs the return to the house, who only wants to look out for those in his care.

“Joel,” You can’t help the whine of your own voice, lips pouting as the man turns a conflicted expression your way as his fingers tighten where they tangle with yours.

“I’ll make it worth your while, darlin’, please?”

“Fine, but I want truffle pasta for dinner.” You jostle his hand in yours, setting them atop your thigh.

“Done.”

Half an hour later, he pulls up to the front of the restaurant, parking the truck on the curb outside the public entrance. He rolls the windows down and you do a double take. There are colorful balloons floating in the gentle breeze, bouncing against each other. They make you smile even as you remember what a hassle parties were as a member of the food industry. You only hope that those on shift were adequately caffeinated and compensated for the hell they were about to endure.

Joel disappears through the front entrance, little bell dinging happily and he’s not gone but one second before he’s at the passenger door. He’s pulling it open from the unlocked handle, looking at you with a small smirk through the lowered pane of glass as you enjoy the breeze through the open window.

“Sweet girl, need you to step in for a second.”

“I’m all road tripped out, dios mio, Joel.” You groan out, really just wanting to be back him and swaddled in clean, fluffy blankets. “I need a bath and some serious skincare.”

He only raises a thick brow and you motion to the slightly wrinkled sundress you’re wearing, the slight bump of your stomach visible beneath the flowing fabric and the seatbelt over your lap. Your hair is pulled up into a haphazard clip in the back with the grown out fringe you had cut over the holidays framing your face. He promises that you look good, the light face of tinted lotion and mascara you put on alongside a natural lip good enough for what he wanted to show you.

Grumbling, you retrieve you phone from the center console beside his. Both phones are pushed into the hands that help you to step out and down from the taller cab.

“Better not be your way of getting me to-“ Your thoughts of helping to check over a liquor purchase fly out the window as soon as your eyes catch the bright scene laid out before you.

Your mouth falls open as you walk through the door being held open by Joel. The entire dining room is done up with sage green tablecloths, more balloons, and fresh flowers are everywhere from the center of the tables to the ledge of the bar. There’s a giant banner over the wall that houses the door to the kitchen. Donning the words ‘CONGRATS ON GETTING KNOCKED UP’. Below it is another slightly smaller one that says ‘AND GETTING ENGAGED TOO, I GUESS’. You snort at the phrasing, knowing that it had to have been a battle at the printers to get it done. And when you breathe air back into your lungs, the smell of fried food makes your stomach growl. Your face breaks out into a wide grin when you see Sarah and Ellie approaching you with their own wide smiles.

They’ve got a crown of flowers, you favorite. Sarah fixes your hair, loose from the clip it had been in and Ellie fastens it in place with a few bobby pins.

“Ready to celebrate, cause we sure as hell are!” Ellie exclaims while Sarah jumps up and down in front of you both, buzzing with energy she seems to have endlessly.

It’s a blur of greetings and photos, of laughter and mocktails. Your hunger from the drive forgotten as you just enjoy the time with your friends and acquired family. Maria and Tommy are floating around alongside the girls to ensure everything is going smoothly, soft music playing over the speakers and presents are placed on their own table. There are so many and you feel choked up over the outpouring of love and support from the community you found in a city so far away from the one you come from.

A lot of the staff from the restaurant are here too, the tightly knit group of about twenty or so from the kitchen staff to the servers. All showing their appreciation and excitement for you and Joel as you navigate this part of your lives. It means so much to you that they didn’t judge you for leaving them to do what you wanted, for focusing on yourself and landing the teaching job you always wanted.

Sure, the timing isn’t right. You’ve only done two semesters, going into a third summer one in a few weeks, but you will make it work. Either offer an online course once your maternity leave is up or even take Joel up on his offer to cut his hours to weekends so he can look after the little one during your proposed class times once you decide to go back to work. Who knows? All of it needs to be discussed, and you’re slowly wading through the conversations as they crop up and thoughts are had.

No pressure, he said. To talk about things unless you wanted to and you pressed the same assurance into his skin with your whispered words.

After the first hour or so, you’re seated with Millie and your best friend at an empty table. Both of them gifting you cards with promises to babysit and bring you takeout any time you needed it as you traverse the remainder of your pregnancy and once the baby is born.

“Look at you, hot momma. Landed the head chef and a baby all in one move. You guys are going to have the cutest fucking baby.” Nia caresses a hand over your shoulder, her nails a light scratch over your skin that feels really good as small waves of anxiety begin to wash over you. She knows, she can see it. Has always been able to see it, you lean into her, resting your head on her shoulder as she pivots to wrap her arms around you. “You deserve it, you deserve everything.”

“Do you know what the gender is yet?” Millie is smiling at the casual intimacy you both display, thinking back to all the nights you two displayed the same after a rough shift, all the smoke breaks and nights out that you shared. Friendship melting her heart, your happiness melting her heart after seeing what a rough year you had endured before this.

“We find out later this week, my blood work came back a little funky last time so instead of an ultrasound, they hooked me up to an IV and told me to rest for a bit while they monitored some stuff.”

“It’s the stuff from your dad’s side, isn’t it?” Nia’s arms tighten around you, worries spoken knowing the things you don’t like to share.

“Yeah, but it’s nothing to worry about. I’m pretty sure it was just elevated blood pressure which for me would be a normal reading and my blood sugar was a little high. They worry about diabetes, but she said my body is just trying to figure out how to process things and find a new balance with this little one taking up so much room now.” You hold a hand to your stomach, gently rubbing at the hardness you feel there now. Soft curves make up your frame, but your stomach is swollen a little more than typical for your physique, giving away the pregnancy now.

“He looks so grumpy.” Mille giggles around her sip of tonic water with grenadine. You follow her gaze and see Joel standing over the table covered in dishes and desserts. His hands are on his hips and he’s frowning as he dissects all the offerings. He almost seems lost in thought with the way his lips purse and roll, pulling a giggle from you too.

“That’s the ‘there ain’t nothin’ here I wanna eat’ look.”

At your stage whispered words, he looks up over at you and his brow furrows even deeper. You haven’t wandered over to the table yourself but he quickly looks back down at it as your trio breaks into a full on fit of laughter. He begins making a plate before heading your way and you try to school your expression even as your heart picks up a tick.

“Gonna make you that pasta you wanted, but here’s a few things to tide you over, momma.” And he’s setting the laden ceramic down with a wink before moving back across the dining room to disappear through the swinging door into the kitchen.

“He calls you momma? Oh my god, swoon.” Nia fans herself with her napkin as she looks your way.

“Do you ever call him ‘daddy’?” Millie’s question is conspiratorial as she leans in, as if afraid he might hear her even through the walls and light hum of conversation that fills the room.

You quickly help yourself to the food he brought over, avoiding both their eyes as you do so. Heat flares high in your cheeks and down your neck, the word bringing up memories that glitter across your skin.

“Oh. My. God. You do.” Nia sets her drink down and stares at you in awe.

“I mean, I would call him daddy if he asked me to.” Millie whispers as she sneaks a chocolate covered strawberry from your plate.

“He didn’t have to ask me.” Is all you say around a mouthful of food at the same time Nia exclaims that’s her boss.

“He started off as this one’s boss too!” She defends, her reprimand falling short as her expression cracks and giggles erupt into the air.

“Yeah, that was part of the fun.” You smirk, remembering the first time it slipped from between your lips as his body moved in tandem with yours. It had only made him growl and pick up the pace, you feel the shock of pleasure at the memory lights you up and you excuse yourself to cross the room with your plate in hand.

“She’s so gonna go make out with her daddy in the kitchen.”

“Girl, I would to if that was my man, fuck I need to get me some of what she’s obviously having. Minus the baby though.”

“Hey, momma, ready to get going?” Joel is gently wiping the excess gel from your exposed belly from the ultrasound you just had. He’s quiet, mind whirling at the news of having a boy. Something that had made your heart swell when you pictured a little toddler version of the man with unruly curly hair and a gap-toothed smile so wide you had gasped when the technician had made the announcement.

“I don’t know anything about boys.” You blurt out, worry and excitement swirling around in your chest and heart. You would’ve been happy with any gender but you find yourself so enthralled at the realization of having a boy. A baby boy. Pudgy cheeks, scraped knees, strong little hands, and then a harsh kick has your hand flying to sooth the ache as it prickles low in your stomach almost like a cramp.

“Oof, felt that one. He’s a little spitfire like his momma, ain’t he?” The vibration of Joel’s chuckle is heartwarming, he’s over the moon. His brown eyes glitter as he looks up at you and you realize he’s got unshed tears in his eyes.

“Joel, I don’t know anything about boys.” You admit in a low voice, worry striking up and beginning to wright down your limbs.

“That’s okay, we can figure it out together.” And his smile is dazzling, teeth glinting in the fluorescents and the dimple in his right cheek is visible beneath his stubble. Even as a few tears brim over and race down his face.

The rest of the day is spent picking out a pastel green and honey gold combination for the nursery. The cart is full of supplies needed for painting and a bulky box of baby proofing effects for the house. He steers it around the garden section of the hardware store as you drift among the plants, trailing fingers faintly over the leaves as you inspect them. It’s a little late for any planting to be done, but he’s agreed to grab a few ferns to place in the room to give it some life until the one it’s being decorated for comes along.

Paint-stained hands wander over ruined clothing as chaste kisses turn heated. Joel licks into your mouth as he pins you to the last white wall of the room across from the one you share upstairs. Your moan is loud and unfiltered as he slots a knee between your legs and grinds it up into the seam between your legs. Your dress doing nothing to shield you from the movement against your core, the rough denim a heady feel through the fabric of your underwear.

“Love the sounds you make, sabrosa.” The timbre of Joel’s voice vibrates through your chest and you sneak your nails underneath the collar of his shirt to dig into his bare shoulders. “Fuck, you sound so fucking good, you drive me crazy.”

“G-good.” You wheeze out just as one of his hands pulls the thin strap of your dress down off your shoulder and kisses the exposed skin around the smears of pain he pressed there. His teeth nip and suck all the way to your chest, where he pulls one of your breasts over the fabric. He swirls his tongue around your nipple, his eyes dilating at the sight of how it hardens and perks up under his attention. When his teeth clamp around the sensitive bud, a yelp sounds into the air as your hips buck against his flexed thigh.

“F-fuck, Joel,” You pant, unable to think with the heat of pleasure scorching over every inch of your body.

As soon as he draws a blinding release from you, he carefully guides you to the floor and smothers kisses all over your face, tongue tangling with yours as you open up for him. Letting him devour you as aftershocks tingle all over your skin. And when he finally frees himself from the jeans that are now stained on the leg to slide inside of your fluttering core, you sigh.

It quickly turns into a squeal as you feel thick, cool paint glide over the tarp you both lay on, tangled together in more ways than one. Shocked laughter springs into the air as he reaches out to press a hand into the liquid and presses a palm in the center of your chest. The giggle you let out cuts his rumbles off into a harsh gasp. The feeling of you clenching around him as you do so tightening around him so tight.

“Fuck, your laughter is the best sound.” His hips grind into you, the tip of his cock hitting that perfect spot and all laughter cuts off, turning into deep grunts and wonton moans as he begins to thrust against you.

As the days winds down, Joel busies himself with transferring the laundry over into the dryer and cleaning up the kitchen while you wander back upstairs into the finished nursery. The tarp laid out over the hardwood shows strange streaks and handprints while you sip a freshly made tea from a ceramic mug that was a present at your shower.

You try to hide the tears when Joel’s steps ascend the stairs but he senses them all the same.

“You okay, sweet girl?” His arms wrap around you from the back, one wide palm flattening in the center of your chest. Reaching out to place your mug on a newly assembled dresser, you place a hand over his and wheeze in a deep breath. The other reaches up to thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head and you nod.

“Just happy tears, I promise.”

Four months ago if someone had told you where you would be, you would’ve laughed in their face.

You never expected to be laying out on a large towel atop warm sand underneath a large shade and four months pregnant. Joel is in one of the many chairs he brought along, resigning to sit in it when you all but shooed him away from where you settled in the sand. It was formed just right underneath your back and neck, giving you the relief of the weight you’ve put on in your belly. The swell of it was still small, something you brought up at a doctor visit but were assured it was normal with the weight you already carried.

Joel’s hand in yours in that moment made you feel a little better paired with the doctor’s soft words, they weren’t reprimanding you for being mid-size, simply explaining the differences it would cause in your pregnancy from an unjudgmental perspective. It still bothers you, just a little. Eating healthy and trying to maintain a good balance always the goal, but school and work and being social and exercising- well, frankly it was a lot to handle on a good day. Let alone a bad one.

Now, though, you’ve got a good reason to stick to a better diet. The baby boy you’re nurturing is of the utmost importance. Joel makes sure to cook you anything you’re craving, the meals he provides from the restaurant or whips up at home are balanced. He’s been amazing, Sarah and Ellie too. They’ve all pitched in to help where it’s needed.

Hell, they packed and loaded up the truck and then let you take the front seat beside Joel late yesterday afternoon before the drive down to the coast was made. The hotel was nice, a suite booked for the family. Three rooms, a living room, a small kitchenette, a balcony overlooking the beach from the fourth floor. It was nice. It was perfect.

The sun is glinting off your ring, held up as you admire the way it looks settled nicely on your finger. A wave of guilt rises and washes away in tune with the waves crashing softly on the shoreline. It was expensive, it’s such a nice piece of jewelry. You told Joel he didn’t need to get a wedding band to go alongside it, that the engagement ring was enough. But you suspect he already has one hiding somewhere.

When Joel suddenly stirs behind you, you shift your head to peer at him in an upside down glance from beneath your sunglasses. He’s reaching into the bag at his side, the one that he was adamant about carrying himself even though it contained all the things you would both need during the day out at the beach. He’s murmuring under his breath, camera suddenly in his hand and you scramble up as you realize he’s aiming it at you and the red light is on- displaying very clearly that he’s recording.

“Hey! No, no, no. No videos!” You try and cover yourself with a nearby towel, two piece doing nothing to hide much of anything. It was enough to feel secure walking around the shallows and to lay out, but to be filmed- nope, not enough.

“C’mon, darlin’, you look amazin’. Glowing like a goddess in the sun and decorated with that pretty ring.” His deep voice makes your skin tingle, your stomach dip, a tightening pull behind your hips.

“Shut up, you’re just horny, old man.” You deadpan, turning away from the camera and beginning the task of rising from the ground. You make sure to not aim your back or front at the camera, not wanting to give him the chance to record your chest or ass as you manage to stand. Bringing a hand up to look out at the rest of the set up from where you now stand outside the protection of the shade.

Sarah and her “coworker” are splashing around in the shallows, Ellie and her “friend” are building a sandcastle with the youngest member of your group, and Tommy and Maria are enjoying the small break of entertaining a one-year-old.

“You got me there.” And his grin is blinding, his face lit up with happiness and affection.

“Mhm.” You just raise an eyebrow at him, taking in the way he looks as he stands now too, in his red swim trunks. It’s criminal how good he looks, all broad shoulders and thick thighs. Fuck, he looks good and you feel yourself grow slick the longer you aim an unimpressed expression his way.

“Gotta pee.” You break the staring contest gracefully, pulling on the sun cover you brought along with you, it had been your makeshift pillow while you lay about.

“Alright then.” And then he presses a few buttons on the camera and wraps an arm around your waist.

Half an hour later, with twin ice cream cones held in tight hands, you share giddy chuckles and giggles with him as you make the trek back across the sand toward your set up.

There are flowers everywhere, balloons, and everyone is standing up the moment you get closer.

“Joel…” You trail off, seeing that Tommy is now wearing a graphic shirt with a tux printed on the front paired with his own board shorts. The girls also have their sun covers on, pale green to match the deep olive of yours.

“Alright, so, I know it isn’t the courthouse like we agreed…” Tears well up in your eyes, warm in comparison to the cold sensation of the ice cream you just swallowed a giant lick of. “But, I figured you would like this a little better.”

With barely held back tears, you let him take the last few bites of your napkin wrapped waffle cone and toss it into the trash bag underneath the folding table. And you marry the man who captured your attention some two years ago guide you to stand in the middle of your found family to exchange the vows you never thought you’d get the chance to at the guidance of his brother who learned the monologue online specifically for the occasion. The man who you love and loves you back, sharing sticky sweet kisses to seal the deal.

It’s better than you ever imagined, better than a courthouse and the formality of standing in front of an officiant that’s done it countless times in the same day. Your heart is full as you feel his arms snake around your body and pull you close, his smiling face and crinkled crow’s feet one of the best views in the whole world.

As the sun begins to dip low, you hold his hand tight as you walk with him through the waves crashing around your ankles, another beautiful ring stacked alongside the one he gave you when he proposed to match the simple gold band he now wears on his own finger. They glint in the warm sunlight and you wish that everyday could feel like this, that you get to spend every moment with the man who holds you tight and sways with you in the water to a song in his head. Twirling you carefully, away and then back to him for your body to lean into his with his hands wrapped securely around you.

“Love you, sweet girl, so fucking much.”

“I love you too, Joel Miller.”

The summer semester starts today, Ellie acting as your teaching assistant alongside a young man who you’ve never met before. Only his name on a file and a long list of recommendations. He’s got another two schools listed under his education, both ivy league in name. They’re both due in your office any second now, you realize as you glance at the clock ticking away on the wall. The papers in your hand, copies of the syllabus and the reading list are warm from the printer. The papers need to be organized and stapled into packs for the students to receive once you mid-morning course begins.

Right now, you’ve got a hot tea and a few crackers paired with cheese and fruit in front of you to keep your stomach from lurching. Nausea still rises up but nowhere near as badly as it had during your first trimester. A snack every three hours between meals helps, though you know you need to work on consuming more liquids. The excessive peeing is something new as more pressure weighs down on your bladder and you are not a fan.

You’re about to text Ellie and see if she’s okay when the door to your office suddenly swings open.

No knock, no voice announcing their arrival- and you’re met with the figure of someone familiar.

He recognizes you when his eyes finally land on you at the desk, a sweep of the office taken in first.

And it’s the guy from the coffee shop in Dallas that shoved you so hard you fell to the ground.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the woman who swings a pretty mean right hook. Should you be working in your condition? Because if I remember correctly, your boyfriend seemed pretty concerned about you being out and about.”

previous chapter || next chapter

taglist: @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker @clevergirl74 @anavatazes

@samiamproductions @76bookworm76 @tuquoquebrute @sarap-77 @koshkaj-blog

@corazondebeskar-reads @ozarkthedog @littlemisspascal @endlessthxxghts

@its-nebuleuse @guiltyasdave @sawymredfox @cumberpegg @grandanchorkitten

@noisynightmarepoetry @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @pazizz @pullingattheroots

@bunniboo0015 @anoverwhelmingdin @copperhalfcent @starry-eyes-love

@theoraekenslover

[penvisions]

working on another glimpse into their life together to break away from angst for a moment 💖

garnish {office hours}

Paring: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (Formerly known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Busy with a new teaching schedule and a hectic holiday at the restaurant, Joel surprises you with a visit on campus.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: age gap (joel is mid to late 40's / reader is late 20's, early 30's), adult content, sexual content, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, reader is on birth control, creampie, dirty talk, secret sex, office sex, panties used as a gag (!!), hint of f! recieving oral, nipple play, rough joel, light dom / sub tones, joel's biceps and chest need their own warning, pretty much pwp, joel and reader are down bad for each other

A/N: whelp, i got totally taken hostage by these two and how desperate they are for each other. had a poll and everything organized for once but uh, i love them, posting this utter filth and then running away, never have i ever written anything so unhinged. so. oops, happy valentine's day, y'all! ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Your classes were back-to-back, tutoring sandwiched between. That didn’t leave you much time to feel like a human, let alone a woman. The last weeks have been a whirlwind of activity for you. A hectic first semester of teaching cresting and beginning to wind down in the face of finals and testing. Papers packed tightly into your bag, almost flowing forth from the binder in which they were encased. Pens scattered to the bottom of it, a collection of bobby pins, hair ties, an errant starburst candy and more than a few wrappers.

You were rushing to your assigned classroom, two floors down from where your new office was. The office was adorned with your name in glittering gold letters. A flutter in your chest each and every time you catch them in your sight. Joel had frowned when he saw them for the first time, lamenting that the dull brass of them didn’t suit you. The next time you found yourself retiring to the confines of the room, you had stopped so abruptly that the student following behind you had run straight into your back.

The shiny gold of the polished letters had taken you off guard, as had the note telling you he would be making dinner that night. Smiling to yourself as you recalled the memory of your first time together after getting back, you had nearly made him late for an inventory shift the next morning when you splayed out for him a second time.

The class went smoothly, Ellie asking so many insightful questions that the discussion ran well over the end of it. No one seemed to mind. Retreating back to your office for study hours, a smile gracing your lips. As soon as you pushed open the door, you could smell him. His woodsy cologne rich in the confines of the room. It was dizzying, the image he created as he leaned casually against the front of the desk, the crammed bookcase behind him and the plants you cared for. He was dressed casually. Though the way he crossed his arms allowed for the rolled-up sleeves of his button up to display his forearms and it downright erotic.

He cocked a brow up as you let out a dreamy sigh, the door clicking shut behind you. You could only stare as he pushed off from the sturdy piece of furniture and walked toward you. The bag hanging from your shoulder slipped to the floor with a thud as you unconsciously backed into the door. Wide eyes watching the way he got right up in your space, the way that his chest visible with the two top buttons undone, freckles and bronze skin begging to be nipped and licked. One of his wide palms came up to lift your chin, his dark eyes catching yours as a filthy smirk pulled up his lips.

You could feel it against your lips as he pressed them to you, the click of the lock being pushed by his other hand before it found your shoulder and guided you flush against the door. One of his legs nudged between your own, the dress you had worn hitching up as his knee rested up against your tingling core.

He pulled back as the whine you felt ghost between your lips sounded, hands reaching out to hold tight to his biceps.

“Gotta keep quiet, darlin’,” He whispered, voice raspy and pressed to your neck. “Don’t want your students to know what a naughty professor they’ve got.”

All you could do was nod as he licked a hot stripe up from your collarbone all the way to your jaw. His thigh pressing up, the front of your underwear completely damp from his sudden attention. He sunk his teeth into your jaw, soothing it with the heat of his tongue as you wriggled in his loose hold. The hand at your shoulder trailed down, thick fingers pulling at the sleeve of your dress as it went. You preened, his lips connecting harshly with yours, mouths open and seeking contact in every way possible. With a growl that sent shivers down your back, his other hand let go of your chin to pull the other sleeve down roughly, exposing your chest to the open air of the room. Your nipples perked at the cool air before large hands caressed them, thumbs stroking over them.

“Oooh, fuck.”

His fingers pinched at them, pulling slightly and your back arched at the pleasant sting that wound its way down to your core.

Gravity shifted as you were suddenly spinning, being corralled toward the desk and bent over it. Your hands flat against the surface, and your hips flush against the biting edge.

Breasts swinging with the motion, all you could do was lock you knees as you heard him quickly unfasten his belt behind you.

“Gonna wreck you, darlin’. Is that alright with you?” His hands glided over the backs of your legs, up your thighs and pushed the skirt of your dress up around your waist. You panted as words failed you, but you arched your back in an obvious response of his words, as if the answer would be anything other than god, please ,yes.

His fingers hooked over the band of your underwear and he dragged them down, groaning at the sight of your arousal making a slick trail that connected you to them. The edge of his nose ghosted over your backside as he leaned down to help you step out of them.

On his way back up, he nipped at the puffy outer lips of your cunt, eliciting a startled yelp.

“Ah, ah, what did I tell ya about being a good girl for me?”

“J-Joel, I can’t-“

He shushed you, the fabric of your drenched underwear gently pushed between your lips before his hands hooked around your hips and pushed you down onto the desk more fully.

“You can and you will.” He was suddenly pressed against you, the thick line of him dragged along your slick folds. Your moan muffled by the fabric pressed into your mouth seemed to do the trick as he lined himself up and moved a hand to your shoulder as leverage to push in.

You fluttered around his cock, body making room for him as he bottomed out. Your eyes rolled, the head of him pressed up right against the spot impossibly deep that made stars sparkle over your vision and pleasure sear through your nerves. The front of his thighs were hot as they pressed flush to the back of your own. The hand at your waist moving down to dip between your legs. A callous fingertip nudged you apart further and circled your clit before pinching it tight.

You tried to yelp, body clenching tight around him and legs shaking with the effort it was taking to hold yourself up against the barrage of pleasure that was cascading over you. White stars exploding before your eyes as tears welled up. Your hands scrambled for purchase, only finding the smooth surface of your desk.

Not giving you a moment to breath, Joel was pulling back, the drag of him delicious before he pounded back into you. He set a devastating pace, grunting as quietly as he could manage but nothing could hide the tell tale smack of skin meeting skin nor the squelching of your cunt around him. Pulling him back in the second he was pulled almost all the way out.

“C’mon, baby girl, you can take it, I know you can.” His voice was close, lips caressing your ear as he whispered to you, bent over you completely and pressing you to the top of the desk. The hard wood was an intense feeling against the hardness of your nipples, and you wanted to moan out for him to him, because of him. But you couldn’t. Fabric now completely damp between your lips, all you could do was let him make good on his promise and wreck you.

The new angle had the tip of his head kissing your cervix and you felt tears of pleasurable pain fall. The wire inside you taut and shaking as he moved against you again, again, again. His finger began to circle your bundle of nerves, pressing down and grinding.

You were cresting, riding the pleasure out high, high, high until it snapped and your entire body tensed underneath him. He grunted as he tried to keep thrusting, chasing his own high and prolonging yours, the clench of your cunt so tight around him it felt like he was being pushed out. White stars taking over your vision completely as he moved against you.

“Fuck me, you’re so god damn tight around me, baby girl.”  

You could only groan out unintelligible as your legs began to shake, body spent with the force of your orgasm. He panted against you, lips pressing to the back of your shoulders, his forehead pressing heavily against them. His hips snapped a few more times with deliberate deep, hard motions before they began to stutter. His own release cresting over him before he was burrowing deep and filling you with the hot spurts that dribbled out where you were connected. Grunting at the feel of it so deep and filling you up you could only take it, but then again, you had been ever since getting back together with the devil of a man still pressed tightly against you.

“Naughty professor, indeed, letting me cum inside her. Can’t even hold it all, darlin’.” He pressed sucking kisses all along your back, slowly removing himself from between your legs to watch it drip out between your puffy folds. His fingers were pulling the drenched fabric from between your lips and allowing you to take a deep breath.

You lay still atop the desk, his hands trailing down your shoulders, the curves of your waist, the flare of your hips, before his fingers were spreading you open for him to see the mixture of you both gathered in your fluttering cunt. You moaned at the oversensitivity of two of his fingers pushing back in what had dared to dribble out and glisten on the soft inside skin of your thighs. The feeling of weightlessness overtaking you as your head became light and mind completely at ease by the mere thought of Joel.

“Did such a good job for me, baby girl.” You preened underneath the dirty praise falling from Joel’s lips, allowing him to begin to shift you around to face him and pull you flush against him. His lips crashed down onto yours and you parted them to allow his tongue to take whatever it wanted from you.

Leaning back, he held your spent body tight to him and brought his fingers up for you to lick unprompted. Moaning wantonly around the taste of you both collected along the thick digits.

“That’s a good girl, let me do whatever I want, huh?”

You hummed an affirmative around his fingers, letting them go with a pop.

His hands were gently, always so gentle after being rough, as he fixed your dress back the way it had been before his determined hands. He leaned down to peck a few more kisses to your lips, huffing out a chuckle when you chased after him, arms clinging tight around the back of his neck.

“Glad to have been able to catch ya, feel like I only see ya when you’re asleep next to me lately.” His hands fastened his pants and belt back up, tucking his softened member back into place with an endearing bend of his knees.

“I know, I’m so sorry, it’s just really-“ You leaned back to take in the whole of him, his slicked back curls still in place despite the rough activity, save for a single curl that fell over his forehead. You reached up and wrapped it around a finger, delighting in the softness of it.

“Not complaining, just miss ya is all.”

“Joel…”

“I’m real proud of you, darlin’.” He untangled from you, his hand coming up to tilt your chin for a final, parting kiss. He reached around you with the other, hands closing in around something atop the desk.

With a wink, he tucked the fabric of your underwear into his pocket and turned to the door.

“See ya tonight, was thinkin’ take out since I plan on revistin’ that pinching you seemed to really like.”

Heat crept up your neck and filled your cheeks as his lips quirked up and he was walking through the now open door. Gone in a breath, just as suddenly as he had appeared.

Silently thanking whatever being ruled the universe that no students had sought you out for tutoring, you made your way out of the office and onto your next class. The feeling of him lingering all over your body, the breeze wafting in through the open windows lining the halls cooling the heat of him still in between your legs.

taglist: @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker @clevergirl74 @anavatazes @samiamproductions @76bookworm76 @tuquoquebrute @sarap-77 @honeyedmiller @joelsgreys

[penvisions]

@tuquoquebrute i am so happy to write for them again and share it with you!

zest {chapter 1}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Changes are sudden, lifestyles are altered, and important questions bubble up but through it all, you have Joel by your side.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: canon typical language, c'mon reader and joel have potty mouths, protective joel, reader is canonically midsize, pregnant reader, surprise pregnancy, reader goes through nicotine withdrawal, smoking, cigarettes, nicotine use, lots of feelings, lots of emotions, complicated family dynamic, reader has family issues, death of a loved one, mention of life-threatening cancer, reader has religious guilt, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry, reader canonically has an eating disorder, mentions of therapy, references to time apart from each other, adult content, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v (be safe y'all!), talk of marriage, adult conversations, joel and ready are down bad for each other.

REMINDER: this is a sequel series, the previous series can be found here {garnish}

A/N: THEY'RE BACK, BABY! ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || masterlist || ko-fi

It’s the perfect spring day: sun shining in a warm but not hot brightness, a gentle breeze rustling the trees as you zip past them, an iced coffee, and the singing figure of Ellie in the passenger seat all make the first half of the day melt away. The amber of your sunglasses allows for everything to be swathed in the honeyed hue and you smile to yourself as you recall a rather heated comment from Joel ‘that every goddamn show feels so creative ‘n artsy when they slap the same tones over Mexico’ and then a softer set of words as he had cuddled closer to you on the couch ‘it’s not really like that, I’ve been there, darlin’, trust me’.

“What’re you all gooey lookin’ for, Sabrosa?” Ellie pauses to catch her breath between songs from the newest pop punk album from a band you first enjoyed in your teenage years. Unable to resist the temptation of adding it to your already laden down basket at the bookstore last week when you and the young girl had ditched Joel to run errands. “Ew, gross, don’t think about my dad while I’m sitting right next to you.”

“Oh hush,” You stuck your tongue out at her. Getting a kick out of how casually she sounded. It hadn’t ever been awkward between you two, or her and Sarah despite the six or so years between your birthdays. But then again, Sarah had let you into the secret of the older guy she had started seeing in her graduate program the last time she had been in town visiting… “It’s nothing dirty, just one of his many rants about my choice in television.”

“Lemme guess….oh! The washed-out way they show Mexico, huh? Cause you were watching…oh fuck, what’s that show called…”

“Breaking Bad.” Was the supplied answer from your lips as you turned on the turn signal and began to slow down to turn into the parking lot for the restaurant. It wasn’t operating hours quite yet, too early yet for the dinner crowd Joel preferred to cater to. But Ellie had a shift, and you were dropping her off after classes. She wasn’t in either of the ones you teach, having completed the two semester course you had started off with. But you both had a class that ended around the same time, living so close to the university, she liked being able to walk but then catch a ride with you. Tradition, the word rang in your head. Routine, followed it and you smiled wider at the way your life had fleshed out.

“That’s the one!” She exclaimed as she unbuckled the seatbelt and leaned back in her chair. “Man, I really don’t have the energy for work today, but the old man said we have a full reservation list and then open seating at the bar.”

“Gonna be that way for a while, the article about him came out only two months ago. Everyone’s clamoring for a chance to try the ‘bursting flavors’ and ‘exciting combinations’ of the renowned Chef Joel Miller.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s hot shit right now, at least the restaurant is.” Reaching for her coffee in an imitation of you, she sipped at the whip cream, caramel whatever it is she had gotten. Coffee wasn’t her favorite, so she always got the espresso taken out, a glorified milkshake Joel had teased her once. “Proud of him, though. The restaurant was in shambles when he bought it from the previous owners, some shitty Italian place that never cleaned anything.”

“He’s done good.” You quietly agree, sipping from your own overly complicated drink. That was another tradition of yours and hers, to make your way through the menu at the coffee shops on campus, always pausing to get the special of the month. Joel claimed he didn’t understand the need for so much stuff mixed in with coffee, but you caught him stealing sips of yours if he were to come across it unattended around the house or when you were out and about with him and treated yourself.

“There’s my girls.” Joel chimes as you input your code into the gate for the employee parking and round the side of the building. His voice filtering in through the open windows as you pull into a spot and cut the engine. He’s leaned against the back of the building, cigarette in hand. “Was wondering what took you so long.”

“Accident on the main road, had to detour.” You appease as he approaches to open the door for you and pressed a greeting kiss to your cheek as you roll up the windows. He does the same for Ellie as she sidles up beside him for a side hug before trotting off to the door and disappearing through it. He let’s you pluck the lit cigarette from his fingers as you shoulder your bag and close the door. His hand goes around your waist to walk alongside you toward the building.

“As long as you two are safe, that’s all that matters. Today’s special is spaghetti all nerano, wanna do some grading here and try a plate?” He takes the smoking roll back from your offered hand and takes the last drag before tossing it into the pale beside the door. Opening it and leading you through it with a hand hovering over your lower back.

“That sounds yummy, I’m starving.” You toss him a smile over your shoulder before greeting everyone with a wave.

It’s well into the third hour of service and you never got the chance to leave once the doors opened. The bar had been struggling, Millie having taken over as manager and Mary trying to appease the picky impatient customers who all want a taste of the raved over menu and a glimpse at the alluring Chef Miller.

Picking up a shaker and twisting a bottle of vodka in your grip, you glance at the ticket that just printed and adjust the amount you free pour into it. Mary had been looked so guilty as she approached you’re the table where you do your work on a regular basis, the question of if you were willing to help out getting drinks started for those waiting on tables barely out of her mouth before you were nodding and cleaning up your stuff. It was now safely tucked away in the office and you were moving at a fast pace behind the bar to keep up with everything. Millie stepped down to let you take the reigns, knowing she would only get in your way. Ellie could be seen picking up and dropping off glasses at the well as often as Millie as she acted as barback.

The restaurant was buzzing, excited conversation and pleasant atmosphere making you remember the tingling high of getting off from a busy shift with a wad of cash tucked into your pocket. Just as you place a strainer over the shaker and begin to pour the contents over six shot glasses the door to the kitchen swings open and Joel walks through. You’re too busy, so you shift the chilled shots to the mat over the well and place the corresponding tickets beside them. Moving onto the next drink, you rinse out the shaker with the star sink in place.

His eyes catch yours through the crowd of people when you look up as Ellie comes up to take the shots and then watching as she delivers them, the sound of the shaker loud in your ear as you hold it over your head. His steps don’t falter as he approaches the table, he was delivering the plate to, but you could see something flash over his face. He’s back behind the door as you move to lodge the shaker open.

The night goes by quickly, taking orders for those lucky enough to snag a spot at the bar but hadn’t been able to make a reservation. Shoving each cash tip into a pint glass for the girls and even taking a few business cards from people interested in hosting parties in the space. You’ll be sure to pass those along to Mary, even if some of them requested you as the bartender. You didn’t mind, missing the atmosphere and good moments you had experienced in the setting. Ellie is taking back the remaining dishes from the last few tables, Millie is out back smoking after helping to clean up the bar top when Joel ambles from the kitchen once again.

He's got his chef’s coat unbuttoned and loose around the shirt underneath, the glint of his belt buckle catching the fairy lights around the bar. His steel curls are slicked back, but you could see the frizz and fluffiness where they rested over the back of his neck. He had been saying he needed a haircut, but you had made a sound in the back of your throat that made him put it off.

His eyes are trained on you as you move the trash cans full of empty bottles to line up beside the drink pick up area. You’re about to return behind the bar with a wink thrown over your shoulder when he snakes his hands around your waist and pulls you to him. He smells amazing, the perfect mix of savory spices, smoke, and Joel.

“Playin’ restaurant, huh? Thought you went home and passed out.” He leans down to kiss your jawline.

“Nah, Mary asked for my help when Millie got swamped.” You breath out, hands coming up to rest on his chest and push should he get a little too enthusiastic in you still being here.

“Not your responsibility.” His eyes hold no real heat or command, you know it’s born from a place of worry, of not wanting you to stretch yourself too thin.

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t mind.” You cradle his cheek in one hand and play with the collar of his open coat with the other. His eyes glance down, the glitter from your lotion catching the light on your neck and chest.

“Hmm, you looked good. Dress looks good on you, shakin’ those drinks and-“

“Dad, holy crap, it was so busy tonight. Some dude tipped me like fifty percent because he was trying to impress his date!” Ellie plops down on a stool with her server’s book. She doesn’t even look up from where she begins to go over the receipts. “Wait until everyone leaves to start doing that or better yet, wait until you’re home to do that.”

“One day you’re gonna meet someone and it’s gonna be hard to keep your hands to yourself.” You only giggle at the typical parent response from Joel. Ellie wasn’t a touchy-feely person, but you were sure she would be with the right person, you’d seen her flirty interactions with girls while out with you and your friends, tagging along for the free drinks and to have safe company. She was pretty smooth if she didn’t get into her head too much, soft touches to shoulders and waists, though she steadfastly refused to dance. With anyone, no matter the setting.

“Gross,” She begins to fill out the printed shift report before organizing the receipts in order and then asks you for the stapler. Detangling yourself from the man, you do make it back behind the bar. That’s when she notices the pint glass. “Holy shit! You made all that?”

“Huh? Oh, no. The restaurant did. Here.” You hand the wad of bills over to Joel. With your own shift report and stapled receipts. He uses two nimble fingers to extract the shift report but leaves the cash in your hand. Frowning, you track the report as it’s tucked into his back pocket along with Ellie’s. Her own cash tips secure in her booklet.

“Also gonna see about getting some of the petty cash from the safe for the hours you worked.” He begins to take the full bags from the trash cans, tying the ends together tight.

“Joel.”

“You worked, you get paid.” He doesn’t look up as he reaches into the bottom for the rolls sitting inside and begins to place new ones over the lips of the plastic.

“I’m your girlfriend. Who used to work here. I was just helping out.”

“Nope, not gonna fly, darlin’. It’s yours.” He slides the empties cans back around the bar for you to put back in their designated places.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.” Ellie reaches for it and you let her swipe it from your hand. Only for Joel to set her with a look. “Oooor not.” She says as she puts it down atop the clean bar top.

“Joel!”

“Can’t hear you, Sabrosa, gotta make sure the kitchen duties were done.”

“Seriously, I’ll take it if you don’t want it.” You quirk an eyebrow at the younger girl, but Millie bounces up and says everyone was going out for a bite at the taco truck parked a few blocks down. They have a spot in a lot that has picnic tables and offer late night service. Ellie takes off, ensuring you she’ll text either you or Joel when she’s back at the townhouse afterwards. She’d been staying the second bedroom there more and more, as you found yourself splitting your time pretty evenly between it and Joel’s. He would join you sometimes, but certain nights either you needed you own space or he did and that was okay.

Sighing, you lock the patron door behind her and turn the sign from open to closed.

As you’re double checking everything is shut down properly, you open the washer to let the last load of glasses air dry, the steam billowing out. Turning when you hear the swing of the kitchen door again, Joel has his chef’s coat tossed over his shoulder and his backpack over the other. His eyes zone in on the cash and then a smirk takes over his face. You turn your attention back to the washer and ensure it’s off before you round the bar top and makes sure it was swept underneath the stools. You’re about to ask him which car you were gonna take home when you spot a crumpled napkin you must’ve missed.

As you bend down to pick it up, you feel thick fingers sneak beneath the skirt of your dress. You don’t think anything of it until you feel Joel tuck a bill from the stack into the band of your panties. Knuckles grazing against your slit as he moves to the other hip and does the same. You shoot up, the napkin forgotten as you try to turn around.

“Nu-uh,” His palms come to rest on your lower back and shoulders, bending you over one of the stools as the heat of his body looms close. He whispers something about having to scrub the video cameras set up around the dining room before you hear the clink of his belt being undone and feel him move your panties to the side. You throb at the feel of the cooler air circulating around the room, a gasp leaving your lips as he gently runs the head of his cock over your folds, arousal from you both making it such a smooth motion.

As he reaches over your back for something, you fills you up, the stretch of his girth feeling like a reward for the hectic shift completed. But you know the night would’ve ended like this either way.

A moan rips from your chest as he grabs a hold of whatever he had been trying to get, hips flush with yours. He chuckles, pleased with himself before his hands sneak around to cup your breasts as they threaten to spill out from your dress as the prone position. His fingers tuck more bills into your underwear, beneath the straps over your shoulders, into the already full cups to peak out over the swell of your chest. He even tucks one into the mess of your hair thrown up into a clip at the back of your hand before his hands secure around your waist and he begins to thrust.

That’s the last memory you have of both smoking and drinking, only a few days before you had anxiously waited for a piece of plastic to tell you your fate. It was now a month since finding out, Joel making sure to go with you to get confirming bloodwork and a full physical. The headaches from missing both finally having abated. Joel on the other hand, he was sneaking cigarettes, you could smell the lingering smoke on him when would come home and you were still up. It didn’t really bother you, knowing he indulged for far longer than you had in the bad habit. But you missed the social aspect of the act, of seeking out the designated spots around campus and chatting, of sitting out on the back patio with Tommy as he enjoyed one on the evenings he stopped by with his own little family for dinner.

But it was all worth it, you mused as you poured yourself a cup of steaming water into what was once your coffee mug. Tea was something you indulged in now, the cupboard filled with the different types you were trying to work your way through to see what would help with the onslaught of nausea and also appealed to your tastebuds. You preferred the fruity ones, just like you did with your cocktails, hence the nickname Ellie had graced you with that stuck.

Jingling keys and heavy footsteps signaled you to Joel’s return, the sun still shining on the calm afternoon. He had been gone when you showed up at his house, a cookout planned for the day. Tommy and Maria had been here an hour, the grill just about ready for the first of many things to be cooked and the pool was sparkling as it awaited the arrival of Sarah and Ellie. You had spent the morning cleaning it of debris and adding a few treatment drops. The whole family getting together. It was good, it was a good feeling being surrounded by them all. You and Maria hitting it off even more over the news of what was to come. Her own child now nearing two, she had given birth while you and Joel were split. But you had sent a care package and visited her in the hospital with her favorite takeout.

It was so domestic, so full a life…it made you wonder why you hadn’t been able to experience it as a child yourself.

“Missed ya, darlin’.” Joel steps up behind you and embraces you. Kissing your temple, you feel the frown mar his lips as you don’t respond. “Everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah,” You mumble, turning in his hold and wrapping your arms around his chest. He smells like cinnamon and the grill brick he used while closing up the restaurant after a brunch shift and you breathe him in as you press your face into his broad chest.

“Gotta shower, wanna join me?’

“The girls will be here soon.” You hold him tighter, missing your own family even if it had never been the same as his own. Dinner once a month with your own father, no visits offered or initiated, grandparents raising you since you were young. A mother who had passed early due to complications from cancer she hadn’t known she had until she was pregnant with you herself. “Wanna make sure everything is ready for them.”

He peppers kisses into your hair before pulling away and disappearing upstairs.

The afternoon continues, the smell of grilling meat and roasting vegetables lilting into the air alongside ruckus laughter and bad jokes. Everyone is comfortable around the patio and the in the pool, food served and consumed. Just a few bites left of everything, Joel ensuring you that he would heed your cravings and what you felt like you could stomach, not worried about leftovers lately.

“So when do we get to meet the rest of the Sabrosa clan?” Tommy askes around the lip of his beer bottle. He’s across from you at the table, Joel off by the grill as he messes with something he hadn’t let you sneak a peak at.

“Oh, um…you don’t?” Caught off guard, the bite of food falls from your plastic fork frozen halfway to your mouth.

“No siblings or nothin?”

“Um, well-“ Clearing your throat you take the bite and chew it contemplatively. Honesty or the thinly veiled truth? Your mind is working hard, something Maria must hear in her seat beside you at the patio table. She shoots Tommy a look you catch out of the corner of your eye, trying to keep calm so the child in dozing in her arms doesn’t stir. “I’ve got two half-siblings, but we don’t keep in contact much.”

“They gonna be at the wedding?”

“What wedding?” “Oh my god, dad! You proposed and didn’t tell us!” Ellie and Sarah holler from where they’re in the pool, one of them resting on a floating device and the other is practicing her laps to get more comfortable in the water. Joel turns from where he was ensuring the grill was off and brings over the s’mores dip he had just let melt to perfection. Your stomach rumbles at the sight of the gooey swirl of marshmallow and dark chocolate, of the rye biscuits he must’ve whipped up at work steaming beside it in a single use tin. Set up with a divider in the middle.

“Haven’t proposed to ‘er yet, quit it.” He sits it down atop a trivet, but no one makes a move to reach for it until he gives the go ahead. But he doesn’t until he’s got one of the dark biscuits covered in the dip and set in front of you. Then it was fair game as the girls begin to swim across the length of the pool, or well Sarah tries to glide her floaty across while Ellie does. Tommy readies one for Maria before making his own, quirking an eyebrow at you as he watches the pull of the dip.

“But your dad is gonna walk you down the aisle, right?” Tommy presses on, not catching onto the awkward way you were shifting in your seat or how you had placed your fork down to rest on the edge of your paper plate. The dessert untouched. But you don’t get to think of an answer before one is flying from your emotionless face.

“Can’t, he’s dead.”

Silence falls over the once happy and jovial backyard, the splash of Sarah slipping from her floating longue echoing.

“Tommy.” Joel’s voice is firm as he pins his brother with a mild glare. Maria is equally unpleased with her husband’s penchant for talking without thinking, not reading the room. He yelps as she kicks his shin underneath the table.

“It’s okay, wasn’t much of a father when he was alive anyway.” You reach for the mocktail you had made a pitcher of for you and the girls to enjoy. No one says anything as you pour yourself another and take a sip from it. Not liking the tension that had crept into the atmosphere, you gather up your nearly empty plate and stack it atop Maria’s to take inside, making more room for the messy dessert. Slinking away, you feel Maria reach out a hand to trail down your arm, comforting you before you’re gone back into the house.

“You dumbfuck.” Ellie mutters under her breath, earning a glare from Joel over his shoulder for her language. But he doesn’t disagree. You do, but it wasn’t his fault. How was Tommy supposed to know he had picked the one subject you had nothing good to say about?

“Shit, I- holy shit.” Tommy’s voice follows you before he yelps a second time as Joel brandishes the still warm tongs from serving biscuits.  

“Way to shove your foot in your mouth, we were havin’ a good time.”

“I didn’t know! I thought she was just quiet about her family not that she didn’t have any.”

“Tommy, you’re the father of my child and my husband but you are seriously so stupid sometimes.”

“Dad, she-she doesn’t have any family?” Sarah is tearing up, affected by the sudden realization of why you never brought anyone around except for a friend every once in a while. She could understand not having a mother, as her own was so distant, only showing up when she needed something or felt lonely in the life she created for herself. But to not have a dad? That was all she knew and she couldn’t fathom how her life would have been without him in it;.

“She’s got us, baby girl.” Joel goes to run a hand over her shoulder and press a kiss to the fluff of her kinky curls as she stands beside the pool set into the ground outside the patio. He wraps the towel she brought out around her and rubs it across her shoulders before lifting his hands. “We’re her family, pretty good deal, huh?”

“Dad….”

“She’ll be okay, I promise.”

The laid back vibe from the afternoon returns once everyone piles into the living room to watch the season finale of an admittedly awful reality tv show. But everyone was hooked and harmless bets were made on who would cause the most drama and how things would end. You’re a little subdued, but you make comments along with everyone else and laugh at the absurdity of what happens on the screen.

Stepping out of the bath you had decided to soak in, you startle when you see Joel sat on the small bench in the master bathroom across from the vanity as you pull back the shower curtain. He’s already changed into his sleep pants, his freckled and bronzed chest on display through the steam.

“Darlin’, why didn’t you tell me your dad was passed?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.” You stand in front of him, taking in the way he watches you through the mirror as you press a bead of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and wet it before popping it into your mouth. A heavy silence fills the room, tangling with the rose scented steam from the bubble bar you had used. The pink water swirling down the sink a near silent hum.

“It-uh, kinda does. Makes me feel…like a whole wedding would be…”

“You don’t have to ask me. We don’t have to get married if it’s going to be a problem.” Shoving down the worries and residual guilt of being raised in a certain religious culture at the thought of having a child out of wedlock, having a child as a single woman you catch the man’s gaze through the mirror. The burn of embarrassment simmers beneath your skin, shame for feeling such embarrassment sparkling behind it, creating a swirl of emotions you hadn’t wanted to feel this close to bed with an early class. You want to marry him, to experience that with him, to live life together as husband and wife, but it feels perfunctory when you didn’t even believe in the reasoning behind why you felt that way. He’s frowning, his brows knit close together, something off in the depths of his brown eyes.

“It’s not a problem…right?” You see the worry flickering through him, in the way his eyes shift and the way he clenches his fists in his lap. “I just…you know you’re a part of the Millers. Have been since the moment you caught my attention, but baby…I don’t want you to feel lonely if it’s my family and your friends.”

“Are you insinuating because I don’t have a family of my own, I’m somehow missing something?” Anger flared hot and sticky in you, washing out the embarrassment. The heat from your bath making it so much worse and you cross the room to pull the door open. Back at the vanity, you ignore his gaze and rinse out your mouth before moving on to clean and moisturize your face. He’s quiet behind you, knowing he phrased his sentiment wrong and this…this communication was new for you both. Still hard sometimes as you both realize how deep some things run and how different you could be.

“You know I’m not.” The gaze he has trained on you reminds you of the way he would watch you through the kitchen, tensions high as you both couldn’t seem to get your heads out of the dirt and just be honest with each other. A time that had passed, allowing for the present to bloom.

“Then a wedding wouldn’t be a problem. But it’s kind of moot, you haven’t proposed.” You don’t anticipate the slight edge to the words as they leave your lips, but they slice through the air. You feel shame overtake the waning anger, making your face hot underneath your massaging hands. The burn of tears threaten to ruin the routine you just completed and you hiccup as your hands flatten atop the vanity, head hanging between your shoulders. You do not like this, but you have no idea where it’s coming from. It really doesn’t bother you that he hasn’t asked. You know he has the intention to, the agreement of a visit to town hall and then a small party to celebrate. Nothing fancy, nothing crazy, simple.

“Hey,” He whispers as he comes up behind you, hands resting over the quick beating of your heart, his naked chest pressed to your back, the damp towel the only thing separating you. But you can feel his own heart between your shoulder blades, strong and sturdy. Grounding you in the way you had explained you preferred when overwhelmed. “I promise I wasn’t trying to upset you, just want you to be comfortable, to have everything you deserve.”

You let him help you to dry off the rest of your body, lotion lovingly applied to your body by his hands before you slip into a nightgown and slip between the sheets beside him. You kiss an apology to his lips, needing him to know that it was just initial panic and not the real way you thought or felt. He accepts it and offers one of his own, lips pressed to your chest, right over your heart before sleep takes ahold of you both.

“I said don’t.” You warned, no humor in your voice. You had tried and failed to put on every one of your pairs of pants, jeans, leggings, and none of them were comfortable. None of them zipped, buttoned, or stretched enough underneath the slight bump that had seemingly blossomed overnight. Joel was sprawled on the bed, working his way to getting up at the late hour. He had been at the restaurant late, later than usual as they had a party stay well after service hours. He had let the staff go on time, ensuring they would get the tip out but not wanting them to have to stay once all the cleaning and side work was done. One of the many things you adored about the man, his willingness to heed situations like that in favor of his staff even if he was gruff and to the point most of the day.

“Didn’t say nothin’, darlin’.” He rumbled from beneath the sheets, tan skin looking deliciously golden paired with the pale pink set you had insisted changing from the white that had previously been curled around the mattress. You had woken up with bad cramps last month, terrified something had happened as you pulled back the covers to find blood spotting the pristine fabric. A quick trip the emergency room as he shared in your panic, albeit in a more controlled way, assured you that spotting was normal during the early months of pregnancy.

“Dress...” You muttered to yourself, hand cradling around the small bump. Joel only hummed, stretching out to alleviate his sore body, thick legs appeared from beneath the fabric. Your eyes traced the long lines of his body through the mirror atop the dresser, drinking in the sight of him and your body began to thrum with arousal. When your eyes roved up the expanse of his broad chest dusted with dark hair to his face, he was smirking at you with an eyebrow arched in a silent question of how long you would ignore his deliberate departure from the bed.

You had all but jumped him when he got home last night, papers you were grading scattered all around you on the couch and coffee table, a Josh Gates show on the television for moral encouragement. He had teased you once about your affinity for the man but you had clapped back with his borderline obsession with Anthony Bourdain, to which he simply said ‘can’t help it darlin’, the man knew his shit’.

The dinner he had brought home had been tossed to the entry way table, as you knelt down to help remove him from his shoes and pants. Mouthing at the line of him through his boxer briefs before he could even get his keys hooked on the mirror over the table. He had been prepared to find you fast asleep, a different kind of tired taking hold of you more and more, almost demanding naps during the day when you got home from campus and right before dinner if you hadn’t worked. But you had sprung up from your spot and welcomed him home, the food forgotten in favor of getting your fill of the man that had been consuming your thoughts. The thought makes his cock fill, twitching underneath the sheets as he recalls your enthusiasm.

He sees the way your eyes dilate at the movement, the hush of his hand skimming down to grip himself.

Suddenly, you’re no longer debating over the clothing flowing from the draws inside the closet or those of the dresser. You peeled the pants you had been fruitlessly trying to zip up and nearly threw yourself at him. He greedily accepts your frantic kisses, starting from his shins and all the way up neck to finally connect with his own. He groans at the taste of coffee you had allowed yourself this morning, his own cup still steaming on the bedside table. His glasses beside it, his cellphone lighting up only to be ignored.

“Does mama need some attention?” He breathes into your open mouth, large palms caressing the exposed skin of your hips. His hands graze your middle, and you shy away from him, self-conscious of the extra jiggle, the stretchmarks from rapid weight fluctuation of your years now accommodating the swell of the beginning signs of the life you two had created together. “Hey, no, c’mere.”

You’re sure he sees the flicker of emotions across your face before you school it into a cool arch of your brow, the playful smirk of your lips. Falling back on bravado that wanes far too quickly these days as your hormones ping pong all over the place. You were just as apt to burst into silent tears as you were to jump him, confusing for you and devasting for him as he tries to read your moods as well as he can. He was hoping to dislodge the habit of you seeking refuge in the townhouse you had gifted Ellie, her own budding relationship prompting her to ask for her own space just as the new stage of your life became known to them. Equal parts of respect for the more tender and tense moments sure to happen and yearning for her own space again.

“Mama needs some new clothes, wanna spoil me?” Your voice is a confident hush, hands reaching forward to urge him to shift closer, both of you on your sides and facing each other.

“Do anythin’ for you, darlin’, you know that.” His teeth sunk into the curve of your neck, tugging you back to him. That seemed to get you to forget your insecurities as he felt you pull him closer, your smaller hands so soft on his chest as they caressed his skin.

“I think I wanna go to that fancy mall, maybe get some pretty underwear that won’t make me feel like a total loser.”

“I’ll take ya anywhere you want, maybe even that big shopping center in Dallas? It’ll be just like the trip we took to Arizona. Could get a hotel, see the sights and just relax. Hear they have a mac and cheese restaurant in the arts district.” He rolls to pin you down, and you move to allow him space between your legs instinctually. Body hovering over yours as he kisses down your neck, your chest, he lets his words sink in. The bralette you had put on doing nothing to hide the perk of your nipples. He laps at them through the thin fabric, delighting in the way it makes you arch up into him. You were so sensitive to his touch lately, your body on high alert as your hormones fluctuate erratically.

“That’s a lot, Joel. Shouldn’t we-“ Your hesitant words are cut off by a searing kiss, the press of his skin against yours making it hard to keep your train of thought.

“We should do what we want, darlin’. Wanna get everything sorted to go this weekend?”

Tears are suddenly pitter pattering over the sheets, darkening the fabric where they land after rolling down the sides of your face. He pushes his weight from where it pressed you to the bed, back on your sides and you let him, unable to stem the tears.

“Oh hey, hey it’s okay,” Joel crowds close, the thin fabric separating your bodies as you bury your face in his neck and curl your legs up, knees pressing into his stomach. Hiccups startle you both as you find it suddenly hard to breath through the onslaught of emotions spiking. “Hey now, darlin’, it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry,” You mumble into his skin, embarrassment flaring up hot in your cheeks and chest. You feel so silly, pulled in too many directions in so quick a succession. “I just…you’re so hot and I’m all bloated and my skin feels all tight and I really want some ice cream.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re happily spooning a sundae into your mouth with a red plastic spoon in the passenger seat of his truck. All the tears and frustration gone from you as you held tight to the treat in your hands with far too many flimsy napkins. He’s got a cigarette dangling from the hand he rests on the inside of the door, trying to keep as much smoke from wafting back into the cab as possible. Errands, today was an errand day and you smiled over at him. Pairs of sunglasses meeting, eyes hidden beneath them. He just leans over to press a kiss to your temple, not wanting to disrupt your enjoyment of the ice cream you literally cried over.

next chapter

taglist: @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker @clevergirl74 @anavatazes @samiamproductions @76bookworm76 @tuquoquebrute @sarap-77 @koshkaj-blog @corazondebeskar-reads @ozarkthedog @littlemisspascal @endlessthxxghts @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @sawymredfox @cumberpegg @grandanchorkitten @noisynightmarepoetry

@regalwhovianbrowncoat774

@pazizz