#Meanie AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

penvisions · 6 months

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garnish {chapter 3}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Thoughts about Joel Miller have you desperate for something you hadn't sought out in quite a while: human touch. So when your friends suggest a girls' night out, you readily agree. It's just your luck that the very man plaguing your thoughts happens to be at the bar picked out for the night.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warning: alcohol consumption, drunken interactions, creepy flirthing, unwanted attention, fighting, bar fights, nonconsensual touching (not joel), protective joel, injuries, blood, degrading talk, power dynamics, abuse of power, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry, smoking, cigarettes, joel miller is a conflicted man, kissing, drunk makeout session

A/N: this story is literally keeping me from climbing the walls in my apartment, i've applied to over 20 jobs the last few days and made even more calls to see if places were hiring. the issue isn't finding something, it's finding something willing to pay me for my experience and skill set. but i found out a local coffee shop is opening a new location and i should be getting a call back with interview times for that today, they need cooks and bakers and i can definitely do that

ao3 || series masterlist || main masterlist

It was Wednesday, your normal day off for the week, but Joel had scheduled you two hours of prep, the shift reminder notification early that morning. It had woken you up, having allowed yourself to sleep in after the rather busy shift the night before. It had been a record-breaking sales day, the concert downtown only blocks away bringing increased foot traffic. It had been a week and a half since that terrible Sunday shift where you had finally given into hunger and had ordered food only to be told you had messed up. You had gone hungry that night, nothing in your kitchen at home.

You hadn’t spoken to Joel beyond confirming that dishes were ready to go out and helping to take updated pars out to the servers’ board for them to be aware of throughout services. Lists were left atop the sandwich prep station, and you completed it every shift you had before making your way toward the bar. They were in his writing, some things new with recipe page numbers for the guidebook stored on the expo line.

You had completed a few things on your list and were moving onto the next thing when his booming voice sounded from the walk in.

“Where are the rest of the yellow onions?”

Everyone in the kitchen looked over their stations, including you. The yellow onions you had chopped up for the red lentil soup were sitting in the pot you had atop a portable burner on the left side of your station. Cutting board beside it as you chopped the carrots that were to be added next.

“Whose used yellow onions today?” His brow was furrowed, lips downturned as he gazed around the kitchen. The three confirmations of ‘here, chef’ had him moving intimidatingly through the space, the first two seemed to come out of their interaction unscathed. But you felt like you weren’t about to be so lucky.

“When did you start the prep for these? They look nearly caramelized already.” He stirred the wooden spoon resting in the deep pot, getting a feel on the state of the onions cooking inside. You had stepped aside, hands behind your back as you let him inspect your station. He turned to watch as you answered, professional air about you as you briefly met his eyes with your own. You spoke in an even tone, worried about how he was going to react. He had already proven himself comfortable with cutting you off and denying you food that you had paid with your own money. And that was when you hadn’t actually done anything to warrant that type of reaction.

“I started this half an hour ago, gathered them from the walk in as I gathered everything else, chef.”

“Did you happen to notice that you grabbed the last ones? There are none in the box, left empty on the shelf. That you too? Don’t understand the way things work here, do ya?” He turned with a sharpie held tight between his fingers and he jutted it at the dray erase board beside the walk-in door where things low in stock were to be written down. “In case anyone is unclear on how this kitchen operates: things low in stock are to be written on that board there BEFORE we run out. Boxes or containers that are emptied while grabbing items are to be discarded or put into dish, not left on the shelf for the next person to find.”

“Yes, chef!” The chorus rang out evenly throughout the room.

He turned back to the portable burner and clicked it off, turning the nob off and the whoosh of gas going out was loud in the slight hum of busy work that the kitchen returned to once he had finished speaking.

“Why don’t you go clock yourself out.”

“Chef, there-“ You tried to talk to him, let him know that you had left nearly three pounds of onions left in the box. It wasn’t empty when you left the walk-in. You had been too wrapped up in your work to notice who else had gone in afterwards, though you wouldn’t have sold them out to begin with.

“Go. Clock out, now.”

“Yes, chef.” You wouldn’t raise your face to meet his look. Trying to keep your anger in check lest you give him a real reason to go off on you. Instead, you moved to grab your sharpie laid out over the recipe binder. The small field notes pad of paper beside it with the notations for a double batch written neatly on the page it was open to. Joel blocked your movement with a sidestep, his broad figure blocking your reaching hand.

“Now means now.”

“My-“

“Is now mine. Go.”

Your eyes flicked up and you tried your best not to pin him with the annoyance that was humming through your very blood. This man was nothing but a nuisance, you had only agreed to come into the kitchen because they were short staffed. But it was degrading work, to be around this man who deemed nearly everything below par and had extreme standards for the way things were to be done. The two instances of common decency he had offered you had to have been a fluke, maybe he had been extra tired and worn out those days, didn’t mean to let his guard down. Either way, you were quickly getting over the fluctuating temperatures of his attitude. At first it had been jarring, but you weren’t about to let it get to you any longer. You were determined to face it head on or dish it back out in what ways you could safely do so without risking your job.

You were lagging outside of the back door, standing with the bar back, whose name was Millie and a server who were both on break. You each had a cigarette in hand, swapping stories about the worst pick up lines that you had been approached with. You had removed your apron, it was folded carefully in your crossbody bag to be washed when you got home, simple black long sleeve Henley along with it. That left you in your black denim with that kitschy cute heart belt buckle and a dark green racerback. You had left your hair up in its normal fashion of low buns on either side of your head, short black beanie atop your head.

“You gotta admit,” Your laughter ringing through the air accompanied by the giggles of the two girls in front of you. “He was honest, what better way to start a conversation, though I could’ve done without the-“

All the laughter cut off as the backdoor opened and Joel appeared with a bag of trash. The two younger girls snubbed out their waning cigarettes and scurried inside, deeming breaktime over with his sudden arrival. You watched as Joel tossed the bag over the lip of the nearby dumpster before removing his gloves and tossed them in as well. He removed a pack of his own cigarettes from the breast pocket of his chef’s coat, and you could see the spiral wiring of your notebook peeking out over the top of it. His eyes took in the way your lips moved as you took a long drag from your own, bringing your phone out to ignore him.

The snick snick snick of his lighter resulted in a deep grunt, and you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. The cigarette he had pulled out was between his plush lips and his dead lighter was being pushed back into the pocket of his chef’s pants. When his eyes flicked to you, your attention snapped back to your phone. He cleared his throat, and you cocked an eyebrow up at the sound, turning to give him the barest hint of attention. He was leaning heavily against the side of the building, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he regarded you.

“Do you-

“Nope.” You took the last drag before snuffing out your own cigarette and tossed the butt into the pail beside the door. You started walking toward the parking lot, your truck beeping with a press of the control in your hand. The strap of your bag over your shoulder caught the man’s eye as you began to move away.

“You’re just gonna walk off from your shift?”

“Today’s my day off, chef.” You didn’t look back at him but could tell that your words had affected him.

“Shit, I-“ He straightened up and moved away from the wall, taking a step toward you, his hands coming out from his pockets to take the unlit cigarette from between his lips.

“Don’t worry about it. Now you don’t have to worry me using up all your inventory, right?” You pulled another cigarette out from the pack still in your hand along with your phone and brought a lighter out from your own front pocket. You took a long drag and blew the smoke in his direction over your shoulder, aware of his gaze on your back and you hopped into the cab of the truck.

The next day, everything that was on your prep list had been completed and the one for today had instructions on where to find the mise for each recipe. Everything was already prepared for you and were just combining and finishing the last few steps of each one.

“Hi there, what can I get started for you?” You placed a coaster down on the bar top before a glass of water, eyes coming up as you smiled at the new guest. Your smile faltered a little when the face of your biological evolution professor beamed back at you, but you didn’t let your surprise show other than that.

“I heard a rumor that the bartender here made the best whisky drinks. Here to test out that theory.” His voice was smooth, something you had often spoken aloud to your friends that made the class lectures rather easy. His baritone deep and the ways in which he spoke with such passion and interest in his material was an added bonus to understanding the class subject matter than most.

“Let’s get to testin’, what your preferred whiskey?” You busied yourself making the drinks that had been rung up the last couple of minutes, the man having sat to the side of the well in the last seat along the right side of the bar.

“I’m a Bullet man, myself. But I’m up for whatever you think is best.”

“Oh, well, of course the one I think is best is our top shelf.” You tossed the man a playful smirk, aware that it was a possible line being crossed. But neither of you were on campus, you were at work, and he was one of your bar guests. His laugh was beautiful as he knocked his head back, the line of his throat catching shadows from the strong lights over the bar.

“I actually prefer Woodford, it’s not too expensive but its leagues above some of the stuff on the shelves like Evan Williams.”

He was funny, quick-witted. Matching your jokes as fast as he could. Bringing up documentaries he had recently seen.

“No, but like that’s the thing! There’s been no discovery of this caliber ever before, its unprecedented in nearly every aspect.” You were making a round of lemon drops for a group of girls on the other end of the bar, loading up the shaker and then securing the smaller component over it before lifting your hand and shaking it. As you did so, you reached over to grab the coup glasses you would need for the pour. A figure appeared at the well, taller than the servers and barback, who had gone on break a few minutes ago.

You glanced over at Joel, the man had his hands atop the plastic mats, eyes taking in the organized garnish container and the jars of small straws and picks for the servers to complete their drinks. You nodded at him to let him know you saw him and would be with him as soon as possible before you held the shaker tight in one hand and used the heel of your palm to knock the smaller part loose. Your hand was steady as you parted the two components enough to strain the bright pink liquid from the ice, not looking up from it.

“To actually have fossil evidence of not just any Hominid species, but of a newly discovered hominid species, with a crafted tool in their fuckin’ hand! Like, I got chills, and I was pretty sure my attention was plastered to the screen. Didn’t even touch the food I made that night. I immediately started just taking notes throughout the whole thing.”

“To be fair, it was just as intriguing to find out that the child’s body had been in the cavern wall, not even properly buried like the rest of the bodies in the Dinaledi chamber.”

“Oh my gosh, I know! That opens a whole plethora of questions about what that child was even doing, was he the one carving those symbols into the wall, was he alone- hold on one moment.” You moved over to the other side of the bar, two coup glasses cradled carefully in each hand, and you took the four of them over to the girls who had been watching you make them. They were all bright smiles and excited giggles as you told them you used Meyer lemons for a sweeter drink and added a bit of cherry juice for the color.

“She’s a busy one, guests seem to love her.” Your professor smiled over at Joel, who was watching you flit around behind the bar much like he had been admiring all night. Joel’s eyes snapped to the man beside him and he just nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“She knows what she’s doing.”

“Not much of a talker in class, but her papers are beyond wonders. The way her mind makes connections is amazing. And the way she uses her words so carefully, so eloquently.”

“You go to school with her?” Joel questioned, mind going over the small interactions he’s had with you recently. You tended to stutter over your words around him, as if you were hesitant to speak in the first place. He didn’t like the comparison, now, seeing you in your element and recalling the way you had always been professional around him. But this, you behind the bar and completely enthralling as you entertained so many people and mixed drinks like it was second nature. Firing back jokes and conversation as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Your laughter ringing through the space of the dining room. He felt the pull of a frown, not liking the shift he was causing in you lately.

“Oh no, school is way behind me. I’m her professor.” The grunt Joel made seemed to display his trepidation at the revelation and the man was quick to jump into defense mode. “It’s not what it looks like, she’s at work and I’m just here on a friend’s word that it’s a good place. Didn’t even know she was here until I sat down.”

“Sure.” Joel said in a tone that said he didn’t buy a word the man was saying.

You were back with them by the well, professional smile in place as you addressed Joel. You were busy tucking a receipt and some bills of money into your server’s book, secured underneath the counter and atop a cooler beside the drink station.

“Yes, chef?”

“Bourbon for the steak sauce. And whatever amber you have on tap.” He tried to muster up the courage to lighten up his face from a frown, but the way your eyes flashed away from him told him it didn’t work.

“Heard, chef.”

You busied yourself with retrieving the bottle of bourbon he had asked you to tack onto your order. He hadn’t wanted to deal with the liquor vendors himself and sure you would find a better deal than him anyway.

“It’s gonna be a 6.7 percent amber, it’s smooth and the notes of pecan to cut the malt. Only one I have on tap at the moment, that okay?” You talked over your shoulder, picking up on the waves and attention from the other patrons of the bar top, reaching to get more than the one glass needed for just Joel’s request. You poured two blondes, an IPA, and a stout and placing them in front of those who had been nursing them all night before going to pull the tap for the amber. It poured for maybe two seconds before it sputtered and compressed air forced itself out of the spicket.

“I told Millie to change out the keg last night, I’m sorry, chef. It’s gonna take me a minute before I can step away and replace it.” Your brows were furrowed in a worried expression, not wanting this to be something he used against you. You were really hoping to get something to go later, needing to finish a paper that was due tomorrow before class. He must’ve clocked the rising panic in your eyes because he squared his shoulders before shoving off the drink station.

“I gotcha, which label am I looking for?”

“Oh, um, Riverbank Red.”

“Heard.” He turned to move toward the small walk-in just behind the bar, the heavy door opening easily underneath his hands. You could hear him rustling around inside, the hiss of him removing the empty keg and then the clunk of him placing the new one in its place. The two knocks on the wall alerted you that it was all set and you pulled the tap, compressed air working its way through the hook up before foam began to stream. Letting it run for a few seconds, you turned around and grabbed a fresh pint glass for Joel’s drink. You used the previous one and filled it, cutting off the tap and took a long pull from it.

When you lowered the glass after your drink, you found two pairs of eyes on you. You looked between your professor and Joel, both on each side of the corner of the bar. Some of the foam from the outside of the glass when the tap died out had run down your chin and settled on your chest. The cut of your shirt was a little low, your simple, silver chain necklace catching the soft glow of the bar lights much like the foam.

You avoided meeting either of their gazes as you poured a second pint for Joel and walked it over. Before you could place it atop the drink station beside the bottle of bourbon already waiting, he reached out for it and his thick fingers brushed yours. His beautiful, brown eyes flashed down and caught yours, full of something you didn’t recognize, prompting you to pull your hand away as you struggled to catch your breath.

His teeth clicked with the clenching of his jaw, his hands tightening around items he came over for and he turned to make his way back to the kitchen.

“He’s not much of a charmer, is he?”

“He just has an asshole voice, don’t mind him.” With a somewhat fake smile plastered on your face, you turned back to your professor and started making him another drink as more rang through the printer. “Now, what were the most concrete dates we had archived for allusions to tool use?”

The alcohol in your system was washing your stress and anxieties away. Moving your body along to the song that was bumping from the speakers of the bar that held a small dance floor. Your friends’ bodies were moving alongside you, along with you, tangling with your own in a heady and exciting way. It was such a relief to not have any worries at the moment, only blipping thoughts of ‘oooh this is a good song’ and ‘another drink, yes please’.

You were taking a break, downing a glass of water and ordering a round of shots for everyone. There were five of you altogether and they huddled around you as you passed one to each of them, smiling widely at the bartender across from you. He just chuckled with a shake of his head and moved on down the bar to help out two waiting men. If you had been paying attention, you would’ve recognized one in a particular. But you were too preoccupied with the rather loud cheers the girls were trying to agree on before someone finally just shouted, ‘drink up, bitches!’ and you were downing the shot along with them.

The burn of it down your throat was anticipated and you gathered the empty glasses from them while they sputtered and coughed, not able to handle it as well as they normally could with already being more than tipsy. You were leaning over the bar a little, on your tip toes to place them atop the washer on the plastic pad you knew the bartender liked to gather used cups before loading them up.

A large hand found the exposed small of your back, your crop tank top allowing for the skin to be on display. It was dangerously close to the waist of your skirt, and you jerked back with a start, face contorting into one of anger.

“Hey, who the fuck do you think you are?” You settled back on your heels, the height of them making you a little taller than normal. Your eyes swept over the crowd around the bar and found that your friends had returned to the dance floor, leaving you to deal with this on your own. Not that you couldn’t, but it would’ve been nice to have a witness. The man in question was rather tall, blonde, nice suit, but his forwardness left little to be desired.

“Just helpin’ to hold ya steady, looked like you were about to flip over the bar, little lady.”

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Didn’t mean to offend-“

“Yeah, well, ya did. Don’t fuckin’ touch me, got it?”

“C’mon now. You were gettin’ all close and personal with your friends, maybe I wanted a feel for myself.”

The man stepped closer to you, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath, cheap and cloying as it wafter over into your personal space. His hands were coming up as if he were going to wrap them around your hips and pull you to him. His eyes were raking slowly up and down your body, taking in the short skirt and crop tank top you had deemed appropriate for the night. The cleavage peeking out of the top of your shirt glistening with the glitter body spray you had used before leaving your apartment.

“Leave me the fuck alone.” You spat, stepping away from the man only to collide with another’s back who had been passing by.

“Watch where-“ Joel of all people turned around, a scowl on his face. You felt like a deer caught in headlights, totally caught off guard that your boss was here in the same bar. The beer in his grip had sloshed over his fingers when you slammed into him and it was dripping to the already sticky floor. There was another man beside him, similar height and build. He had the same brown eyes and you realized they must be related.

Joel’s eyes took in the slightly panicked air about you, gaze moving behind you to see the man you had been fleeing from in such a haste.

“He touch you?”

“Don’t know if that’s any of your business, old man.” The man stepped forward and hooked a finger on the strap of your crossbody, pulling you backwards and you stumbled at the bold move. “We’re just two friends having an intimate-“

You maneuvered your stumble into a pivot and raised your clenched fist to deck the guy across the face, cutting off his words. You felt the crack of his nose beneath your knuckles, the action splitting two of them open. There was a gasp and a bark of laughter from behind you.

“I said, don’t fuckin’ touch me.” You sneered, anger lighting you up from the inside out. You didn’t pay the dull ache of your new injury any mind as you brought your arm back closer to your body, but you did flinch when the man’s hands shot out and his nails scratched along your neck where he had tried to grab you.

Joel was moving with a grunt of effort before you could fully register that the man had lunged at you.

Body slamming into his and pinning him face down against the bar with a hand tight on the back of his neck. His forehead had cracked against it, and he had shouted out weakly at the pain the action must’ve caused. His arms were twisted behind up, Joel’s right one holding them tight by the wrists. As he did so, the man with Joel had pulled you away from the confrontation, hands far more gentle with you than the man now pinned to the bar.

“You okay?” Joel looked back at you, his eyes hard and his expression schooled into one of control despite the way he had just cracked that man’s head on the top of the bar. When you didn’t answer, he looked to the man who had pulled you further out of harms way. “Tommy, she okay?”

There was no time to answer him, the bartender was out from behind the bar in a second, security that checked identification alongside him and they were forcefully guiding the man toward the door. He was putting up a rather good effort, but the two men were stronger than him. He turned with one last look over his shoulder and spat at you. The spray of it startled you and the tears that formed were angry, wet, ugly things.

Suddenly, the girls were swarming you, all talking at the same time and guiding you toward the bathroom to help get you somewhere safe to gather yourself. You let them guide you away from Joel and what you assumed was his brother, not glancing over at them lest they see more of the tears than they already had.

The bathroom muffled the booming music enough to hear your own thoughts, the lights a little brighter to help you process what had just happened. The girls were dabbing wet paper towels underneath your eyes to wipe your smeared makeup, to sooth the scratch marks on your throat. They plopped you down on one of the chairs off in the corner, removing your bag from around your body and just allowed you to take however long a moment you needed. Someone fetched a bottle of water from somewhere and you gulped down half of it without taking a breath. Your hands were shaking and you lifted your hand up to inspect the damage on your knuckles.

Someone gasped and it startled you, making you jump in your seat and then the bartender was there with a first aid kit.

“Me’n my boyfriend kicked him out, some cops were walking down the way and he taken to the station.”

He said as he kneeled in front of you, tearing open a package of sterile gauze. He dabbed some disinfectant on it before gently taking your hand and patting it across the top of your hand.

You found yourself back up at the bar, seated in a stool with your bag laid over the back of it. Your friends had checked on you again and pouted at your insistence of not going to another place with them. They wished you a good rest of the night and told you to check in with them when you got home, you returned their kind words.

You downed the last dregs of your cocktail, a vodka something, and gathered your keys from your purse.

Heels heavy, you stumbled over your own feet as your head swam and the lights of the bar flared. You reached out for the back of the stool but ended up grabbing onto a man’s arm. It was warm and strong and white-hot desire raced down your spine at the contact. Bringing your face up to apologize, it was lost in your throat as you realized it was none other than Joel Miller you were holding onto. You stepped back, turning from him to properly retrieve your bag this time.

“You’re not the boss of me here, lemme go.” You struggled against the hold he had on your upper arm, where he had turned you to face him. He seemed to realize you were uncomfortable and he dropped his hand, allowing you to turn back to face the bar. Jerry looked from your annoyed expression to the man behind you, taking in the situation and trying to determine how best to deal with it.

“Hey, man, good on you and your brother for helping us get that guy earlier, but I don’t think she likes the attention.”

“She’s drunk, you really gonna let her leave alone?”

“She comes here a lot, knows her limits and she’s got me to look out after her.”

“She’s drunker ‘n you think.”

“I am not.”

“Darlin-“

“I am not your anything, Mr. Miller.” You turned back on him with such a glare he was surprised you could hold the look in your state. He could see the way your head was lolling with every turn, your movements loose and uncoordinated. “This is a public space, I am not your prep cook and you are not my boss. You can’t lord over me and refuse me food here like at work. And I want…I want French fries.”

You stumbled as you turned around to face him again with heat behind your words. Eyes flaring in anger as he tried to reach for you again. Your body sung where one of his arms wrapped around the small of your back, helping you to keep upright as your balance faltered. The heels weren’t helping. You wished you had just stayed home, the sting of being ditched by your friends, the sting of his treatment at work and the workload of your classes, all of it was a lot and tonight was supposed to help you get out of your head, not make things worse.

“You-“ You swayed on your feet, leaning back from him slightly. The length of his forearm supporting you as you did so and stabbed a finger into his chest to emphasize your next words. Ignoring the way that his chest was firm and hot through the fabric of his shirt, he would probably have chest hair and it would be as peppered as his scruff… “You’re mean.”

His brother was doing his best to smother his laughter behind a hand, but you could hear it and you pouted even more.

“Your little brother is laughing at me and you’re a meanie.” You shoved away from him again, the warmth of his arm gone from your back as you turned around to retrieve your bag from the back of your stool. “I’m leaving.”

“The hell you are, you can’t walk, let alone drive.”

“Don’t need help. I’ve been on my own for as long as I can remember.”

“Sweetheart, you-“ Tommy tried to step in, hoping that maybe he could help out the situation. It was clear they were both worried but you were just being so stubborn. Jerry was right, you didn’t like the attention, you didn’t like getting felt up and your boss had been there to witness the aftermath. That he was still there and seeing you in such a way.

“I’m not your sweetheart.” Your voice held more bite than you thought you were capable of in your current state. Tommy stepped back with his hands held up in surrender. His brows furrowed as he shared a look with his brother.

“Lemme call you a cab, please.”

“No, I don’t need anything from you. You made it clear how you feel about me, barking at me all day when I’m helping you with your kitchen because the staff don’t wanna show up and deal with you.”

“Oof, that’s a hard hit, brother.” Tommy reached over to help you drape your purse strap over your shoulder, the crossbody secure over your form and he stepped away as you pushed at his hands much like you had done with Joel. “You really did a number on her.”

“Lemme just, please, lemme take you home. Need to make sure you get home okay.” His voice was pitched quiet, leaning a little into your space with an open expression. His hands were at his sides, not reaching out to touch you again, his fists clenched at his sides. Your eyes lingered on the way his mouth formed around the words and you swallowed the harsh ones you were about to fire back at him. All you could manage was a small nod.

That’s how you found yourself in the passenger side of his own truck, waiting in a short line of a drive through.

Once your fries, and some for him too, had been passed through the window, he was following the spoken instructions to your house. Watching the way you watched things pass by the window as you munched on the salty treat in your lap out of the corner of his eye. The dried blood on your split knuckles making his stomach lurch as he thought of that man putting his hands on you and the look on your face when you tried to flee. The look on your face when you had run into him, eyes wide and panicked.

You had calmed down, now in a lazy mood after the adrenaline packed events of the night.

“You do know what you’re doin’, just don’t think I’ve ever said it out loud ‘fore now.”

“Hmm?” You rolled your head along the back of the seat to face him, bringing a fry up to the seal of your mouth as you did so. He had to look away from the sight, your entire body and demeanor relaxed. Your expression was so open and curious, eyes soft as you looked over at him. Containing none of the animosity and worry he seemed to pull from you at work as you looked him over. He was in a pair of dark wash jeans that his thighs looked good in as he drove, a simple white Henley for a shirt. It allowed for the tan of his skin to pop, the grays that speckled his hair looking good in the lights of passing cars and lamps.

“You-uh-you, nevermind.” Joel’s deep voice wavered before he cut off, not being able to handle the earnest gaze you had pinned him with, his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“Mkay, whatever you say.” You turned back to look out with window, letting him know that your complex was around the corner.

He parked along the curb beside the gate that opened up into the parking lot. Watching him as he hopped out of the cab and toward your side of the vehicle, his expression hard to read. He was opening the door and leaning into the can to undo your seatbelt. Not wanting to risk you trying to do it and spill your fries, knowing you would probably tear up at the mishap should it occur. He said as much under his breath when you asked him what he was doing and you couldn’t help the giggles that bubbled up from your chest as you agreed with him, it would be tragic.

Once unbuckled, he reached for the fries in your hand and put them back in the bag they came in, tucking it into your purse that was still across your body.

“Will you let me help you step down?”

At your nod, his hands came around your waist, the wideness of them allowing his fingers to span across your back in a tantalizing way. He lifted you a little, holding most of your weight as you hopped down from the cab. His arms tensed around you as you felt yourself wobble, forgetting you were in heels for the entirety of the drive. Another round of giggles bubbled up and you found yourself leaning more into Joel’s space. His body was warm where you were pressed up against his front, the scent of cedar stronger tonight than it had been all those nights ago when he insisted on making you food to take home.

“I wish you liked me.” You spoke quietly into his neck, lips brushing against the skin there as you did so.

You felt his fingers twitch where they held onto you before you were pulled back a little so he could look down at you.

“Darlin’, I do like you, that’s the problem.”

“Doesn’t have to be.” You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling yourself closer to him.

“You’re not in the right state to be talkin’ about this right no-“

Surging up, you smothered the words from his lips with your own. His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you back. As if he was unable to stop himself despite the words he had just been ushering. It was all teeth and tongue, sparking heat that pooled low in your middle. A whimper sounded in the air, Joel swallowing it as he licked into your mouth. Your nails dug into the curls at the base of his neck and you pulled.

A deep groan rumbled through his chest and you pulled away to catch your breath, looking at the face of the man who had been consuming your thoughts for weeks now.

He looked back at you, took in the way your eyes were blown out and dilated, the puffiness of your swollen lips, the quick breaths you were taking to recover from his mouth on yours, the heat that he was causing was all consuming and you knew that he could feel through your skin underneath his hands. He was swooping back down to capture your lips, his hands moving up to cradle your face in his hands as he did so and you melted at the action.

Consciousness hit you like a jolt and you were shooting up from your bed. The covers fell from you to pool around your waist, and you looked around the room, nothing looked out of place but something felt off, so incredibly off. Your bag was on the bedside table, an empty greasy bag crumpled beside it and your lips were tingling with the memory of pressing them against someone else’s.

“Oh, fuck.”

You had drunkenly kissed your boss.

And he had kissed you back.

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wanderingxiao · 1 year

Text

-Petty Lil’ Shit-

NSFW, 18+ only Plz~

Summary: Scara is having a pretty bad day, a talk with you gives him an idea to make his day better and get a little bit of... revenge

Pairing: College! Scaramouche x Female Reader

Warning: lots of foul language, degradation, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, Scara being a meanie and sweetie <3

Word Count: 4k

Enjoy~

“You may have this back when you learn to behave appropriately in class, Kunikuzushi.” A harsh growl came from the back of an indigo-haired boys throat as his phone and keys were taken from him by the teacher. His purple irises glared daggers into the back of the retreating older woman’s head, not once relenting his hateful glare towards her. He held back the urge to kick his desk out of irritation and annoyance for the old hag he was forced to listen to. The teacher proceeded with the lecture as of nothing had happened, ignoring the fact one of her students was radiating a pissed off aura that made the entire classroom shrink away from him as much as they could. After a grueling hour the class was finally over. “Kunikuzushi-“

“I’m coming, fucking hag.” The boy mumbled, scoffing at the sound of his real name being called once more by the older woman who just turned her nose up at him when he approached. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and stood in front of her desk until everyone had left in a hurry. “Give me my phone and my keys back. Those are mine.” The teacher gave the boy a stern glare as she crossed her arms across her saggy chest. How disrespectful! You’ll get them back when you’re respectful to your elders. Now please Kunikuzushi, I must prepare for my next class.” The boy stood frozen as he stared at the teacher in disbelief over the nonsense she just spotted out of her wrinkly lips. His expression turned dark, and he stomped his way out of the classroom, students scurrying out of his way before they got caught in his rage.

“What did you expect, Scara? You’re on your phone in her class all the time and never turn in anything on time.” A deadpan look crossed your face as he sat in front of you fuming boyfriend. He took an aggressive bite out of his chicken sandwich and sent a cold glare towards you. “Her class is easier than counting to one, it’s pathetic really. And to have to sit there and learn from a saggy tit granny? Hah! I could give two shits about her or the damn subject she teaches. I feel sorry for the old bastard she’s married to.” You sent a questioning look towards Scaramouche. He was being WAY harsher than normal. Usually, he’d just call her an old hag, but she must’ve REALLY pissed him off today for him to be chucking insults every other word. “Who pissed in your cheerios this morning?”

Your boyfriend snapped his head in your direction, sending a cold glare your way, getting more irritated at your lack of reaction from his piercing gaze. You had known Scaramouche for years, hell you’d been dating for 3 years and living together for about 1 year. If you hadn’t gotten used to his bratty and controlling personality you wouldn’t still be sitting here with him in a university bench. Often, when he was being a brat or being a bit harsh, you would play along with his games and say harsh things about yourself. This always made him upset to the point where he would pout and come and cuddle you, telling you those things weren’t true and he was only being an asshole. Which he was. But you wouldn’t love your bratty short man otherwise.

“Very funny, brat.” Scaramouche scoffed and stuffed the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth, his cute pale cheeks full as he chewed. You couldn’t help but smile at his cuteness. He was the real brat. “Awe, c’mon Kuni…” He flinched slightly at hearing his real name slip past your lips instead of his other name. You were the only person allowed to say his name like that. He was forced to have his real name on his college transcripts. He loved how you said his name. “I know you don’t mean that, baby.” You got off the top of the table you sat on outside, wind blowing gently as other students passed by, paying you two no mind as they listened to their music or scrolled over their phones. You sat beside him and rested your hand on his chest, running your hand up and down his sternum. “You love me. You crave me and my touch constantly… like a drug you’re addicted to. You couldn’t live without me even if you tried.”

“In your fucking dreams, worm.” He scoffed harshly as he swallowed the rest of his sandwich quickly. His cheeks hinted a soft pink indicating that your words were in fact true, he was just too prideful to ever admit such embarrassing things. Your lips curled slightly hearing him call you a worm, that was your shy boyfriend for you. “I’m only your worm.” You lifted his chin gently and placed a quick peck on his crumb-littered lips. You licked your lips to get the crumbs off and sat back down, looking out over the courtyard as you waited for him to finish. Scaramouche was now unfocused on finishing his meal and more focused on your reply. “Hah! Never would’ve thought you would admit to being my slimy little worm. Spineless and cowardly.”

Your expression deepened with a frown. “Spineless? I’m not spineless! I do a lot of things out of my comfort zone, especially with you.” He knew you were referring to what you both did in the bedroom. Scaramouche was rather sadistic and possessive when it came to sex. He viewed the act as claiming possession over you and your body. Every inch of you then and there belonged to him and only him. You had been tied up, gagged, choked, pulled by your hair, smacked, and even once took part in role playing as Scaramouche’s slutty “secretary” and being bent over his desk until you couldn’t stand anymore. “That’s true… but-“ A handsome and suggestive grin spread across his perfect pale lips as he leaned over the table. His gentle and slender fingers curled under your chin, bringing your face closer to his as his lips grazed your ear. “You won’t have sex with me here, will you?”

His breath was hot against your skin, his tongue coming to lick slowly against the shell of your ear, an embarrassed heat rushing between your legs at the suggestion and his sexual advances on you. “H-Here? At the university…” Your voice was unsure and nervous. It sounded exciting though. The thrill of having to hide, the thrill of being quiet in order not to get caught. Your mind weighed heavy on the thought, but ultimately a voice in the back of your head screamed no. “Yeah, here. You’re always so willing to become my little slut at home, why not here as well? Maybe you don’t love me enough…” His voice began to trail off, encouraging you to retaliate against his statement and do whatever he wished. You could feel his hot breath ghost over your neck as he hovered his mouth over your pulse point. “You don’t love me enough to help me?”

“Y-You know it’s not like tha- ah!” You gasped in surprise when Scaramouche cupped your right breast with his warm hands, squeezing and grinding his hand against it. A flustered heat rose quickly to your cheeks, sending him a glare and grabbing his wrist tightly to stop his motions. “Are you crazy?! We’re still outside in the middle of the courtyard!” The indigo-haired boy didn’t seem to care and continued fondling your boobs until your grip tightening and started to push him away. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a frustrated snarl. “Are you honestly resisting me? Wow, I never thought I’d see the day you turn away a good dicking down.” He removed his hands from your breasts and grabbed your hands instead, pulling you up and shoving your things in your hands. “Let’s go.”

“Scara, wait-!” He didn’t wait for your reply, only dragging you along in his oddly strong grip towards an empty classroom. You tugged on your wrist embarrassed, heads turning your way at your struggle. Nobody bothered to save you as your boyfriend threw you into a certain empty classroom and slammed the door closed. In mere seconds your back was against the door, a pair of soft lips molding onto yours so perfectly you couldn’t help but fall into his touch. Feeling your body begin to submit to him, he slyly slid his cool hands up your waist, his thumbs coming to hook under the middle of your bra. His thumbs slid outward and towards your back, unclipping your bra and letting the material loosely hang on your shoulders underneath your shirt. He pulled away, “Lift those pretty little arms for me. I wanna see those perky tits.”

“Kuni…” You whined softly, slowly lifting up your arms and letting him remove your shirt and bro with one swish of his hands up. Your lips curled inwardly, pressing them together and turning your head away to try and avoid his intense stare. His fingertips glided over your erects nipples, touch feather light as he grinned at the way you shivered. “Mmm… I fucking love these tits. Look how hard your cute lil’ nips are for me.” He cruelly flicked your hardened buds, making you gasp and arch your back against the door, your chest presenting itself more for him. Scaramouche licked his lips and dove down to kiss down your chest and over the swell of your soft squishy mounds. “Hah… you smell so damn good…”

You moaned quietly as Scaramouche lifted one of your boobs and attached his mouth over your hardened bud. Your back arched, eyes closing as your fingers ran through his soft indigo locks. His warm tongue circled and flicked over your nipple while his other hand pinched and rubbed your other. A sticky wetness began to pool into your panties, hands shaking against his hair as they struggled not to move. You knew he didn’t like it when you touched yourself. If anything, he would do it for you and make you cum from his tongue, his fingers, or better yet his deliciously big dick. A slutty moan slipped past your wet lips when his knee harshly came between your legs, grinding you against his thigh while giving your tits his undivided attention.

“S-Scara please… Mmm! I-I want you…” Your needy pleas for his dick made him groan against your tits, pulling off with a pop before smacking your boob softly and moving to the other, giving it the same treatment. His other hand now went to slip down your pants, slender fingers skillfully finding your clit and rubbing sensational circles over your little love button. “Mmm! Fuck! Hah… Scaramouche! Ngh…” Your body shook, head turning side to side quickly as his fingers took you to edge of your euphoric bliss. You almost couldn’t take it anymore with how good he rubbed your clit. “That’s it…” He pulled off your nipple and started to leave bite marks and hickeys along your chest and the sensitive sides of your boobs. His face nuzzled into your neck, heavy pants almost searing your skin. “Fucking come undone from my fingers… that’s it baby… hah, fucking cum for me!”

“K-Kuni!!” You cried out his name as you creamed all over your smooth cotton panties, fingers trembling against his shoulders as you gripped him for support. Scaramouche dipped his fingers down to get his fingers wet before he removed them, admiring the contents of your climax over his fingers. “Hah! Look who’s enjoying all the fun over there. Cumming so quick just from having your slutty little clit played with. Pathetic.” His eyes lowered seductively, his tongue coming out to lick his slightly swollen lips. You could immediately feel heat rush to your cheeks when he slid his tongue over his tainted fingers, licking up your juices with a sexy glare. “I think it’s time for you to return the favor. Since I was so kind to give you the satisfaction of cumming without me.” Before you knew it, his hands were on your ass and pulling you up and against him, forcing your arms around his neck.

Your boobs smushed against Scaramouche’s neck as he expertly guided you both to lay you down on the teacher’s desk. His erection bumped against your clothed core as he carried you, making you hornier than you were previously. Once you were down, he got to work on stripping himself of his shirt, a thin layer of sweat already glistening on his pale toned body. Your hands reached out to run down his shoulders to his pecks, all the way down to his V-line. It was then you finally made eye contact with the obvious tent in his pants. “You like what you see there, slut?” He could practically see the drool coming out of your mouth as you stared intently at his clothed erection. Cool touches lingered against your hips as his slender fingers hooked onto your pants and slid them off with your panties. a deep moan erupted from his throat as he stared longingly at your sopping cunt. “Oh fuck… look how wet you are, all for me too? That’s so damn sexy...”

“D-Don’t look…” His beautiful view was interrupted by your hands as you covered your glistening lips with your hands, face flushed and turned away for him not to see how embarrassed you were with his gaze. A low growl rumbled through his chest as he pulled your hands away and slammed them down beside you. “Dont ever hide yourself from me again. Your body belongs to me. Not even a single hair on your head is to be called yours. You’re completely… and utterly, mine.” His voice dropped as he stated his claim over you, his dark lavender eyes lowering to study how magnificent your natural essence was. Trimmed pubic hair outline the area around your crotch and your lovely folds. The curves of your cunt had him mesmerized, how slick they were with your arousal, tiny clit now swollen from indescribable pleasure. The last thread of any restraint to be somewhat gentle snapped as your lips breathless called out his name. “Kunikuzushi, I’m yours… please… stop looking and just put your dick in me… I want you… I need you so badly, baby.”

“Ah fuck… you sound so fucking hot when you beg for me like the whorish slut you are.” His fingers made haste with unbuckling his belt, deep heavy pants leaving his mouth feeling his cock head twitch in anticipation. Relief washed over his figure feeling his hard dick be freed from the firm constraints they were previously in. The red tip twitched at the feeling of cool air blowing against it, his eyes twitching slightly as he bit his lip. You copied his movements as your lip caught between your teeth, pussy clenching on nothing as you anxiously shifted. “Kuni… Kuni please-“ a harsh slap came to your plump thighs as he jutted his hips against your lower regions, his dick slapping against your slick folds before rubbing the underside up and down. “Shut up. I’ll fuck you when I damn well please. Now hush and let me do as I please with my pretty little girl.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips at his words, your legs spreading a bit wider for him to have more access to your womanly parts. He obliged happily, stepping forward and reaching a hand down to grab the base of his dick. He rubbed the shaft up and down your folds, groaning at the feeling. He forced his tip to poke at your entrance before flicking it up to bump your clit, chuckling deeply as he watched your body squirm underneath him. Your mind suddenly flashed with remembrance, and you pushed against his chest earning a frustrated glare. “W-Wait, do you have any condoms?” Your worries were crushed with a glare from your boyfriend. He took your hands away and gripped your thighs, digging his fingers into your flesh as he started to press harder against your entrance. “We don’t need it this time.”

“What?! Scara what happens if I get pregnant? I’m not ready to be a parent!” Scaramouche looked up in thought, and a small loving smirk graced his lips. He looked back down to you, his eyes only reflecting his love for you despite his harsh teasing and cruel smile. “Then I’ll take responsibility. It’s not like I ever planned to let you go anyways. Trust me, (Y/N).” Your heart hammered against your chest at his loving and sweet words. Your resolve melted when he leaned down to kiss you lovingly as a measure of reassurance. The pressure against your entrance continued until you felt a firm thrust sheath his dick inside, forcing a small groan out of your mouth at the stretch. His large hands moved their way up to grab your hips, lips departing from yours as a string of saliva snapped between your mouths. “Sh-Shit it’s always so good… fuck I can’t control myself…”

“Kuni, mmm… feel so full inside.” His thrusts were slow and unbelievably deep at first. A wet sound came from below you as his dick came in and out of your sloppy insides. Your hands went around his neck, fingers entangling in the soft tussles of his indigo hair. The grip on your hips tightened as he started to set a new snd faster pace. Low groans rumbled in his chest while needy pants dropped from his lips. “You feel good, (Y/N)? Bet you’re feeling f-fucking amazing right now… ahhh, yeah, you’re my dirty little girl, aren’t you? You’re my dirty slut.” His hips were smacking against yours now, his eyes heavily lidded as he focused on the way your boobs bounced with each thrust, he sheathed into you. Your face was morphed into a blissful and fucked out expression, your eyes barely able to be kept open as you couldn’t help but solely focus on the pleasure Scaramouche was giving you. “Y-Yes Kuni, I feel so good… hah, oh my god, M-Mmm!”

“What else?” He called out harshly, his cold hands coming to grip around your neck, apply a gentle pressure to stimulate your eyes to snap open. You made eye contact with his gorgeous dark lavender eyes, half closed as he stared intently at you with lust swimming around the contents of his irises. His pupils were blown out with lust, threatening to swallow the lovely color of his eyes full. Strands of his indigo hair stuck to his forehead as sweat glistened on his pale skin. “I-I’m your dirty girl… all yours Kuni, all yours, hah!” He huffed out a strained chuckle, wincing as he unconsciously squeezed tighter around your neck. “Hngh! Fuck!” Scaramouche let go of you completely and slammed his hands on the desk, a loud crack being heard as he caged your body and thrust his hips faster. “Ahh! Kuni-“

“Just let me grab my papers out of my office.” A hand slapped over your mouth as quick as you first noticed a voice had sounded from outside. Your whole entire body froze, eyes blowing wide, pupils shrinking as all sense of arousal left your body. Your boyfriend squeezed your mouth tighter, clenching his teeth together harshly as he tried to withstand the unrelenting squeeze you had around his dick at the moment. The door handle jiggled, your legs coming to try and push Scaramouche off, but he wouldn’t budge. Your heart pounded harshly in your chest as you waited to be caught in such an embarrassing act. “Well, hey there teacher! My professor asked me to come get you! It sounded quite urgent… it seems somethings wrong the scantron reader, it’s giving all the students A’s. It’d be a shame if it was left the way it is.”

“Ngh… n-now I owe that nosy… f-fucking brat…” Scaramouche cursed as he let go of your mouth, panting and lightly trembling above you. Your lungs clawed at the opportunity for air, taking shallow gasps as you tried to stay quiet. The two figures outside retreated. It sounded like… “W-Was that Heizou?” A scoff came from Scaramouche as he clenched his fists together against the table. He curt nod came as he finally brought his eyes back down to connect with yours. You could feel his body tense up as he rocked his hips again with yours. “Where were we?” He whispered, letting out a soft groan before he leaned over you, his hair tickling your forehead, husky breath fanning over your face. Your hands grabbed his face, pulling him close to engage in a sloppy heated make out.

Scaramouche pushed your hip down with one hand while the other came around your shoulders to squeeze you tightly against him. A low grunt echoed in his throat, tongue swirling and flexing over yours as he started to pick up his pace. One of his knees came to rest on the desk to plunge himself deeper, snapping his hips brutally against yours, almost feral the way he desperately chased his release now. He shoved his face into your neck, panting harder and moaning into your neck, his hips stuttering slightly as they became sloppy and all the more desperate. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m so close… you’re squeezing, hah, the fucking life… o-outta me, ahhh… I’m gonna cum.” Your legs wrapped around his hips, arms wrapping around his head against your neck and sending your hands to claw at his back. “M-Me too! Mmm! Feels so g-good Kuni!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, cumming… cumming, gonna fucking cum.” You tightened your grip on him and came with a loud moan and squeal of his name as he fucked your sensitive walls after your god-like climax. He pulled up away from you quickly, hands slamming and pushing your hips roughly against the desk as he ripped his dick out of your throbbing insides. “Sh-Shit!” He came quickly after, spurts of sticky white coming from his twitching tip as cum splattered against important documents on the desk and all over the teacher’s keyboard and screen. You were too fucked out to even notice what he’d done. Your chest rose and fell heavily, trying to catch your breath and calm the trembling in your legs from how good Scaramouche fucked you. He collapsed on top of you, panting against your chest and neck as he too tried to regain his composure. “That was… fucking amazing.”

“I-It always… is baby. You’re always so a-amazing.” You panted out in agreement, a small smile on your face as you kissed his sweaty forehead, combing his sweaty bangs out of his face. He lazily rose his head up and placed a soft kiss to your lips before reluctantly pushing himself up. “C’mon, let’s get you dressed.” Scaramouche was oddly sweet when it came to aftercare with you. He knew he was harsh and a little mean when he got really into sex, to make up for his roughness, he tried to be a little kinder in aftercare not to make you think he was heartless. He helped you put your panties and bra back on before letting you get yourself dressed while he fixed himself up too. “Oh, Scara you came all over the teacher’s desk… we better clean it up before they come back.”

“Leave it. That old hag deserves it.” He opened the desk and pulled out his phone and keys, smirking at the work he’d done making a mess on the teacher’s desk.

“…you really are a petty lil’ shit aren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“…you really are a petty lil’ shit aren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

#scaramouche x you #scara smut #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #college au #meanie scara #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer

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