#Will Poulter imagines

[veryberryjelly]

worlds best sous

pairing : chef luca x reader

prompt : gingerbread houses

𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲

when you asked your pastry chef boyfriend to make gingerbread houses with you, you should have expected that he would find some way to make it fancy.

the two of you went to the grocery store to buy some supplied, but where you went to the pre-packaged baked goods, luca went straight for the ingredients.

you should've known.

but you were not at all complaining as you walked down the aisles with luca's hand in yours and the basket in the other so he could pick the things he wanted off the shelf.

you ended up walking home with a grocery bag full of ingredients ready to make your own gingerbread for gingerbread houses.

when you arrived back home, you went to the bedroom to change into something cozy while luca unpacked the groceries, and the two of you switched roles when he went to change and you made tea for both of you to set the mood a little bit.

when he emerged clad in grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt you sat yourself at the kitchen counter to assist in whatever way he needed.

whenever the two of you baked together, you would sit opposite him at the counter and he would talk you through the entire process while giving you tasks to do that weren't detrimental to the bake.

today he gave you the scales and the ingredients to measure them out before he mixed them and then he pulled you around to his side to cut out the shapes you both needed for the structure of the gingerbread house.

this was where you shone.

you cut out equal squares for the base with small indents to slot the pieces together easily and support the structure.

once the dough was cut, you assisted luca in setting them onto the baking trays and sliding them into the oven.

while the biscuits baked, you began mixing icing and opening up packs of sweets and chocolates to decorate.

while you were mixing the icing, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and felt a kiss pressed onto your neck.

instead of saying anything, you put down what you were doing and wrapped your arms around his, turning your head to look up at him so you were able to press a kiss onto his temple.

" you are the best sous chef i've ever had " he said quietly, causing a smile to spread out across your lips.

" very high praise. i'm honoured " you replied with a soft laugh, capturing his lips in a kiss before the oven timer broke you both out of it.

----------

@mmoodd-jobutupaki

[anundyingfidelity]

THE SCENE — Will Poulter x fem reader

Summary: you're in a romantic comedy with Will Poulter and kind of develop a small crush on him. After a hot make out scene, you can't stop thinking about him.

Pairing: Will Poulter x fem!reader.

Word count: 2.8k.

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, handjobs, couch sex, semi clothed sex, overstimulation, usual dirty language and dirty stuff.

Notes: Reader is around 38 (in my head) and Will is 30 because I fucking need some Will with an older woman and I need him in a romantic comedy so bad right now and this is me trying to fulfil my fantasy as well. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this filthy shit. Anything is welcome.

>> disclaimer: i totally respect the private lifes of the actors and celebrities i use for my fanfictions, and of course their personal relationships. this is only fiction written for fun and nothing more.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Finally, he kissed you. But it wasn't just a simple kiss. It was a hungry, needy kiss. Something you longed for since you both met on set.

He pressed his body against yours, his big frame over you, his fingers caressing your cheek until he reached the skin of your neck. His touch made you ache, and he wasn't even down there, where you needed him the most.

As you gasped between kisses, his hands traveled down your hips, until he grabbed your ass, in a harshly way. His big palms squeezing your skin through the pencil skirt. Will broke the kiss, scanning your swollen lips and big eyes, before he pulled you up from the floor only to sit you on the kitchen island, and him now standing between your legs.

It was your turn to kiss him. You pulled him for a sloppy kiss as your lips crashed together again, inviting his tongue to taste your mouth. He started to take off the buttons of your blouse, leaving it open to see your covered breasts, and hungrily you invite his hands to feel your exposed skin. He touched, under your guidance, and felt the heat of your body against him.

Your hands then moved to his trousers, undoing them as fast as you can between kisses. Will pulled you closer, if that was even possible, pressing your bodies together. You grinded against him, and felt his increasing arousal. His growing erection wasn't something he could hide; and this made you crazy, for him and his touch.

His hips moved, thrusting into you, feeling your heat against his clothed crotch, and his lips moved to your neck, placing soft kisses on your skin. It made you gasp and whimper softly, and you thought you'd come just by the friction your bodies were creating...

"Cut!"

The director's voice made you stop.

You almost forgot you were actually acting a heavy make out scene with Will Poulter.

"Are you okay?" you asked sweetly once you stopped, trying to keep it professional.

Will nodded and breathed out. "Yeah, are you alright?"

"I am," you smiled.

He helped you to get on your feet and the staff quickly came to fix yours and his clothing, while listening to the praising from your director and the crew on what you just did. The blonde, tall man blushed a little.

The film was a new romantic comedy, with you and Will on the lead. You played a prestigious boss of an important magazine and Will was the new, naive intern on the company. Will's character was younger than the your character and he fell for your character in an instant. So this scene was the peak of their relationship, where both finally give in to each other.

Unlike you, you fell for Will in real life.

Will's character was clumsy, cute, really kind and hardworking, exactly like him. He was shy when you met at first but as time went by you learned to enjoy each other's company and, in fact, you got along very well.

You sighed, finally this was your last scene for the day, so the crew and the director wrapped up everything, and you finished another long shift of filming. After the scene, you left the set saying thank you to everyone and smiling a lot more than you pretended to Will. God, you were so into him.

The crew took you to hair and make up to take off the clothes for the scene and clean your face. It was late at night, so after that, you went back to your hotel. The only thing on your mind was him. Him touching you, him kissing you, him adoring and worshiping your body in just a few minutes was driving you crazy.

Maybe it was just a mere coincidence, but once you waited for the elevator to arrive, Will appeared by your side. A shy smile on his lips. Your cheeks heated and your body ached, the images of his hands roaming your figure appeared on your head again.

"Almost over," Will said. "The filming, I mean..."

"Yeah, thankfully," you responded almost immediately.

The elevator doors opened. Will let you get in first and he followed behind. You were the only two people inside the elevator and in silence you arrived to your floor. It wasn't good that you were staying on the same floor, only a room apart. At least, not for you.

You started to walk away, with a smile, and suddenly felt like you had to do something. Anything to talk to him, to have him closer.

"Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to have a drink or something?" the question came out of your mouth without thinking twice, and it certainly caught Will out of guard, judging by the look on his face.

He was standing a couple feet away from you, ready to enter his room, but he stopped from doing so.

"That would be lovely," he said.

"Then, wanna come in?" you asked, playfuly, knowing he would follow.

Will chuckled and you let him in your room. It was a small suite, with a living room and a bedroom. The moment Will entered the place, he thought it had all your aura in it, a proper hotel room for a star like you. Someone whom he really admired a lot from afar, and you had no idea about it.

"Anything special you'd like?" you asked Will, after saying he could sit on the couch. You opened the fridge and his answer was a little weird for you.

"Water will do, thank you."

You glanced at him, your brows furrowed.

"Really, water's fine," his lips put on a pretty, shy look on his face. But you said nothing, grabbing a glass of water and if this was going to go his way, you took water for yourself too.

You offered him the glass and he gladly accepted it as you took yours and made yourself comfortable in the couch, leaving just a little space between both of you.

"I can't believe we're only a couple of days to finish here," Will broke the silence first. God, how much you loved hearing his voice.

"Me neither, hasn't been that long..." you replied. I wish it never ended, at least not yet, you thought.

Suddenly, Will called your name and it slipped from his mouth like the sweetest thing you've ever heard him say. He started to think perfectly his words. "Um I really enjoy working with you," he said. "And you're awesome, and I'm your fan- sorry if it's weird."

A wide smile was on your lips and you felt heat rising on your face. "I enjoy the time with you as well."

The chat went smoothly, with him praising your work and you did the same with Will. He respected you a lot since you were older than him and you had a prominent career he followed closely before. It was nice to have him in your place, alone, without the pressure of doing a perfect scene or your crew around. Even when the british man was just being sweet and making some jokes through your conversation, all you could think about was the heated scene you shared today. On the way his hands traveled down your skin, how his lips felt soft, and the way he was pressing your body to his... A new wave of silence filled the place as you finished your glass of water and placed it on the coffee table, his empty glass was already there.

"You know, I couldn't stop thinking about our scene today..."

"Oh, yeah? Why's that?" you asked, curious. You could swear you were closer to him now, your legs almost touching. A small blush appeared on his face at the way your eyes looked at him.

"Well, you're you," he mumbled. "And you're wonderful and beautiful..."

"Well, you're beautiful too, and I like you," you didn't mean to say those last words but it was done now. His eyes went wide. Well, now he knew. Will barely gasped and licked his lips. And you just wanted nothing more but kiss him. Now.

He remained quiet, so you decided to make your first move and slowly, you leaned in to kiss his lips. It was short but he closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm feeling. It started soft and delicate, until his hand tangled in your hair, playing with it gently. You whimpered in the middle of the kiss.

"God, you're so gorgeous," you breathed against his lips, taking in every inch and detail of his face. His plump lips and his darkening eyes filled with lust and his furrowed brows were everything you wanted to keep on your mind forever.

You moved until you finally were sitting on his lap, each leg on his sides, and kissed him, this time, you were impatient. Gladly, Will followed your pace, letting you guide him through it while your hips moved slowly, grinding against his crotch.

Will gasped against your mouth, his big hands went down on your sides smoothly. His erection was evident and he found himself not able to control the rolls of his hips, your core already aching and dripping for him. Your small moans were swallowed by his mouth and you continued with the friction your now heated bodies created.

Suddenly, you broke the kiss to get some air and studied the look on his face. It was pure lust. Just exactly how you felt.

"Why you accepted my invitation if you wanted just water?"

"I wanted to be with you," he answered, biting his lip.

"Well, then undress me."

And he did as you ordered. You got on your feet and Will took off your blouse and your pants swiftly but gently at the same time, your bra ended up somewhere on the carpeted floor along with your panties. Finally exposed, you climbed on top of him again with such confidence, that his blue eyes wandered in every inch of your skin. He thought you were perfect like this.

Taking his hand you guided him to your core. And how wet you were by now. He rubbed your folds and your clit, as he left soft butterfly kisses on your neck, inhaling your scent. Your skin was heating and your heart racing. And his touch felt like heaven. His fingers teased your slit and you rocked your hips to feel him where you needed the most.

You didn't care he was still fully clothed, all that mattered was his digits playing with your cunt and his other hand running from your leg to one of your breasts to squeeze your flesh gently. Quickly, you found his belt and undid his trousers. Will breathed against the crook of your neck as your hand ghosted over his now tight boxers, throbing for you. You moaned as one of his long digits entered you, your spine curled. The feeling of getting stretched and ready was too much, and his agonizing slow rhythm made your body ask for more.

The heat between your legs ached and you met the thrusts of his hand rolling your hips, your hand palming him hardly through the fabric while he increased the pace of his finger, adding a second one soon enough. Will used his other hand to hold your waist, fucking your pussy with his fingers, clearly saying he wanted to guide the flow of what you were starting.

"Oh, Will, please," you whimpered, and leaned down to kiss him, eager. Your hands released his cock from his boxers and your palm worked on his hard dick, using the precum of his tip to create friction. Once you pulled away from the kiss you met with his flushed face, scrunched eyes, licking his lips with his tongue... he looked so pretty like that, under your touch and the small control you gathered before was back.

So you continued pumping him, the living room of your suite now was filled with the obscene noises of your pussy as his fingers thrusted into you and your hand pumping him. His eyes opened slowly and met your dark gaze, Will did not stop fucking your cunt, until you grabbed his wrist with your hand, his hard cock now free from your palm. He pulled out his fingers, glistening because of your juices and you took them in your mouth, tasting yourself. His muscles tighten, he felt like he would cum right there just by the licks of your tongue on his fingers, until you cleaned them good.

"I felt you getting hard today..."

You started to take off the buttons of his dress shirt, exposing a little of his well-built chest, hands ghosting over his soft skin.

"I- I couldn't help it," Will gasped, his big hands grabbing your sides.

You smirked. "I know."

And with those words, you sinked down on his cock, your walls pulsed around him as he filled you little by little, until the curve of your ass met the fabric of his trousers under your bare flesh. He let out a low moan and your pussy clenched around him. You were more than ready to take him.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned, hypnotized on how good you felt.

So you ride him, holding yourself on his shoulders, with his hands gripping your hips, and you feel his dick deeply every time you sink down again into him, your tits bouncing, and both your moans and his groans mix together. And you realized then that you're finally connected, just as how you fantasized, exactly how you used to dream wide awake.

You realize you're riding him, fully naked, on the couch of your suite, while he was almost dressed. And you loved it. You loved the way he let you fuck yourself on him, and how his big and strong hands remained on your skin, how his fingers moved to cup your breasts. He felt like heaven.

A familiar sensation starts building down your belly, and your walls squeeze his cock as you bounce repeatedly. So close. So fucking close to the sweet end. Your body was desperate to reach the edge and release the tension you had saved for so long, just to have this moment with him. His grip grew rough on your hips, but Will remained still, and you knew it was taking a huge amount of self-control to buck his hips and thrust into you.

And finally, you exploded cursing under your breath, leaning your forehead against his. Moans and whimpers escaped your lips, your pussy clenching around his shaft, but you took a while to slow down and you held tightly on him. The wetness of your cunt sliding down your inner thighs.

"Fuck me," you gasped, still riding out your orgasm. "Fuck me like this until you cum."

And without a word, he did. His hard grip made you remain still, his hips rocking at a brutal pace, you were still sensitive from your orgasm, but it truly didn't care. He was already twitching inside of you and your whole body trembled. Your fingers tangled on his blonde, soft curls, while biting your lip to hold back your moans.

Will was so close to his own peak, his thrusts became erractic and breathy moans left his lips. You were also sure his grip would leave marks on your body, but that was more than okay. It would be perfect to remember how good he was making you feel and how hard he made you cum... Everything was more than perfect and every thrust made you crazy, aching for more of him and how deep he felt inside of your spasming walls...

With a last powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside you, spilling his seed deep inside of your cunt with a shattered breath against the crook of your neck. You just wished to stay like this forever, with him moving you on top of him gently, milking every drop of him.

Your body felt weak, but you smiled, panting and moving to see his beautiful sweaty face. He was completely spent, as much as you were. His hands caressed your thighs in a gentle way, and you pecked his nose, tasting the salty sweat running down his skin.

"This was so good," you mumbled.

"You feel good," Will answered, now he kissed your lips. "You feel better than I ever thought..."

You chuckled. "So you also imagined something before."

"A lot, in fact," he nodded, smiling and kissing your cheek, lips tracing the features on your face.

"Mind sharing some of them later? Maybe in the shower?" you suggested.

"Darling, you don't even have to ask."

The sweetness of his deep voice and the dark meaning of his words sent shivers down your spine. This was going to be a long night.

[ialreadymadeyouapromise]

𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

coming soon . . .

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

could we get some gally headcannons please?👀

Whatever you want to write🩷

Thank you ❤️

gally in a relationship headcanons

masterlist

finally some gally love <3 idc what anyone says, his eyebrows are beautiful. NSFW BELOW.

the glade

enemies to lovers type shit. i'm talking y'all would go as far as avoiding meal times just to avoid seeing each other.

he'd always be staring at you—from across the glade, through the bonfire, literally all the time.

sooo many interactions would end with y'all being up in each other's faces and throwing petty insults.

you'd slap him if he says anything that borders on sexism. he eventually learns what's what.

'there's a thin line between love and hate'.

other gladers would get so annoyed by how much he talks about you. his favourite excuse: "she just pisses me off so much".

but there's no excuse for jerking off to the thought of you late at night.

honestly, he would probably realise he likes you when you scull his secret recipe drink in front of him.

he'd ignore his feelings until you're the only thing on his mind and it infuriates him so fucking much.

you would be arguing one time and then suddenly he kisses you. the kiss would be aggressive, heated, and most likely up against a tree or hut.

suprisingly, his confession after would be very vulnerable and tender.

everyone is confused the next day when you're practically glued to each other's sides

gally would be very protective and borderline possessive. he'd hate it whenever other guys stare or talk about you.

would probably end up in a fistfight over it.

he'd be a rough/passionate kisser.

he'd be very into thighs. his hands are big and calloused so he'd enjoy wrapping them around the plush of your thighs, kneading the soft warm skin in his hand.

despite his gruff and harsh demeanour, he would always hold/touch you with utmost delicateness, apart from heated moments.

guards you whenever you shower.

would break so many rules for you. reluctantly, of course.

y'all know the term 'sleeper build'? that's gally. he might not seem extremely muscly at first glance, but once he starts heavy-lifting and building, his arms are legit bulging.

your first time together wouldn't be too great, but once you practice more, it gets good. like, really good.

love love loves receiving but also thoroughly enjoys making you come and knowing only he can do it.

his favourite sex position would be holding you up against a wall. he likes feeling strong.

arguments would almost always end with him taking you into the forest and fucking you against a tree.

when he gets stung, he would probably fight through the changing to tell you he loves you one last time before getting speared. oop.

the last city

when y'all reunite, you'd both collapse to the floor in each other's arms kissing and crying which surprises you. the gally you knew was not a crier or favoured public affection.

gally changed a lot since you last saw him, emotionally and physically. he is taller, more muscular, and has a more level-headed and calmer attitude.

he'd be more emotionally available and willing to be open and vulnerable with you.

the first thing y'all do when you're alone is have sex. and he even fucks differently.

the better wording would be 'make love' instead of 'fuck'.

he is much more gentle and loving and focuses on your needs wayyy more than his own. he couldn't believe how aggressive he previously was with you, how selfish he was.

he would worship your body and show you how much you really mean to him.

you would make him leave his mask on one time while y'all fuck. its hot af.

would always be touching you—an arm wrapped around your waist, holding your hand, your thighs, etc.

the hugs, man. he'd literally pick you up and engulf you in his arms. all the time. this mf had a severe epiphany and realised his love language was touch.

would always be complimenting you. "you're beautiful, you know that?", "god, you're a fucking angel.", etc

wouldn't get mad if other guys talked to or stared at you anymore. he would probably joke about it with them instead.

well, maybe he would be a little aggressive.

"yeah, ha-ha, careful or i'll throw you to the cranks".

trusts you to be able to take care of yourself but is still a major worrier, especially during the war within the city.

after arriving at the safe haven, he would build a house for you. you would enjoy watching him because, well... muscles.

all in all, gally would be an extremely different man compared to the one you first met, making your love for him stronger than it had ever been.

[cyberg4l]

┏━ • 𝐁𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐓 • ━┓

pairing; GALLY x READER word count; 1.8k summary; you’re reunited with gally after a tumultuous few weeks of grieving his death. warnings; mentions of death and grief, canonical type violence, angst, hurt/comfort

A/N: this is set during ‘death cure’. all the characters are above the age of 18. there will be mentions of death, violence, and the flare. if you’re not in the right headspace to read something heavy, then please take care of yourself.

FOR THE LONGEST TIME, ALL YOU HAD WANTED WAS TO ESCAPE THE GLADE. You spent countless restless nights sitting under the stars and wondering what the world outside was like. There were times when you truly lost hope. There were times when you didn’t think you would make it out alive - that the only time you would ever get a glimpse of what was beyond the grey, harsh walls would be in your dreams. Or even the afterlife.

Now, as you trekked along the depressing streets, you found yourself wishing for that blissful ignorance again. Ben, Chuck, Gally, Winston. Those names were on repeat in your mind almost every night and every morning. They died so that you could live, and that had to count for something.

You remembered vividly what it was like to see a fellow Glader die right in front of you. Sure, Ben was banished; but he had died long before he was sent out into the Maze. He was dead the moment the infection took hold of his body.

Gally was next. His stubborn nature caused his demise, and Chuck’s too. Clenching your eyes, you blinked away the anger and resentment. Gally had been your friend. He was a hard-headed ass, and too overbearing, but he always took care of you when it mattered. Even if he was grumpy about it while doing so.

There was no place for love in the Glade, but if you had to pinpoint the first and last time you felt it, it would be for Gally. The memory of you begging him to come with you haunted your every waking moment. Tears, blood, and sweat covered your face as you dragged his sleeve - crying, almost falling to your knees to convince him. You’ll never forget the way he looked at you, the way he shook you off his arm like you were some pest.

And you couldn’t forget about Winston. His death was still fresh in everyone’s mind. It was hard to forget the echo of the gunshot that had ended his life - even if it was by his own hands.

A harsh slam woke you from your thoughts. Someone had rammed straight into you, trying to pass you. Looking up, you saw them walk past a cargo truck. A tall man was sat on it - gas mask heavy and tight on his face as he seemingly stared straight through you. You shivered before looking away. The streets were too crowded. Thomas held onto your arm tightly as he maneuvered his way around. Honestly, your search was feeling futile.

If you could go back in time, maybe you would’ve never left the Glade. Maybe Gally was right.

“Over there,” said Thomas, pointing to something in the distance.

You squinted, not quite understanding what he was getting at. In truth, you weren’t even sure how he knew what to look for. The Right Arm hadn’t been heard of in years. That’s what everyone had said. You were looking for ghosts.

“Thomas-“ you started, wanting to reason with him. Words caught in your throat as a bullet wheezed straight past you two.

All hell broke loose as swarms of bodies shoved and pulled - trying to escape the danger of being shot. Newt and Brenda had disappeared. Whipping your head around, you yelled for them, not wanting to lose another friend to the chaos that this world offered.

Before you knew it, a strong grip dragged you away, and everything went black as a strange fabric went over your face.

“Let me go!” you yelled, looking at the familiar mask on the soldier’s face. You quickly recognized them as the ones who were riding around town earlier.

The car ride had been brutally long. Your muscles ached, and your eyes were sore from being in the dark for so long. Frantically looking around, you tried to find your friends. Surprisingly so, your arms weren’t tied. The only thing stopping you was the almost painful hold on your upper arm. Whoever these people were, they didn’t seem like they wanted to hurt you - or else you’d most likely be dead by now.

You huffed as you were manhandled into a room. There was something about the soldier - something about them gave you a sense of deja vu. It was the way they held themselves, the way their breaths came in ragged gasps as you stared at their chest. Each moment felt like a distant memory that you had seen before. Furrowing your brows, you decided it was your memory loss messing with you again. It was common for you to think you remembered something from your past, just for it to be a fluke.

You were quickly let go, and you jogged up to Newt, wrapping him in a hug.

“I was worried sick,” he mumbled. “Where are the others?”

You shrugged as your eyes scanned around. Spotting Brenda, you nodded to her. There were significantly less of you than you’d initially had begun with. Had they taken the rest to a different location? Your heart hammered rapidly against your ribcage as you stepped back. You eyed the familiar soldier, noting the way his shoulders squared back as he stood tall.

You shook your head. I don’t know him. It’s all just fake memories. Get over yourself. Get over yourself-

A shout interrupted the awkward and anxious silence. As Jorge began laying down punch after punch on one of the men, Brenda ran up to him to put a stop to it. All your eyes were looking for was Thomas and Fry.

After everything you had all been through, the thought of losing someone else was unbearable. You couldn’t afford another loss like that. Letting out a deep breath, you watched as Frypan and Thomas stepped up, curiously staring down the soldier at the end of the room.

Words were exchanged, but none of them stuck.

His voice. It sounded like…

“What do you mean same side? Who the hell are you?”

The soldier stopped, his arm flexing as he lowered the gun in his hand. He looked away briefly before slowing pulling off his mask. A buzzed head came into view, and you had almost no time to process before his face turned to look at you.

All you could see was blue. The color of his eyes. The same eyes you had looked into as you pleaded and sobbed. The same ones you had watched the light slowly die out of. The eyes you had so long ago fallen in love with.

Both of your gazes locked onto each other’s, and if it weren’t for Newt’s hands steadying you, you genuinely think you could’ve passed out. It was like seeing a ghost.

All you heard was a loud commotion behind you as you turned to sprint out of the room. Another minute in there and you would lose your mind.

Pushing open the door to the balcony, you panted slightly, trying to get your bearings. The cool breeze pinched your cheeks, causing a slight twinge of pain. It was usually warm during the day, but the nights were freezing. In the Glade it had always been warm - never a dull day. Perhaps once every few months you’d get rain, which was always good for the crops, but it was never necessarily cold.

Shivering, you wrapped your arms around you. Weirdly enough you had never been more glad to feel the chill of air run through your bones. It was the only thing reminding you that you were alive.

Alive. Gally was alive.

Burying your face in your palms, you paced around. You spent almost three weeks grieving him. You saw him die - no, correction, you watched and left him to die.

His face tormented you every time you closed your eyes. The tears he cried as he realized he was being left for dead, the scream that had left your body as you were pulled away from the scene. Gally was the first person you had ever truly opened up to. You had been in the Glade for the brunt of 2 years, and over time you’d like to think you had gotten under his tough exterior.

The nights where you both couldn’t sleep. Your head in his shoulder, and his hand intertwined with yours, precariously tip-toeing the line between friendship and something more.

Then, in a split second, it was all gone.

“Hey, firecracker.”

You winced at the nickname. Gally had given it to you on your first week there. He said you would give him a run for his money with the way you snapped and yelled at everyone. Really, it was just because you were scared - especially being the only girl.

You blinked away tears. “Please, don’t.”

Your voice came out more shaky than you had liked. It wasn’t that you weren’t relieved to see him, it’s just that you didn’t exactly end on good terms. Now, seeing him alive and well - and so, unbelievably tall and handsome - it made you question everything.

He whispered your name, and you felt his body heat burn unbearably against your back as he stepped closer.

“Look at me.”

Shaking your head, you clenched your eyes shut, letting a few stray tears fall. “I’m can’t. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

The last time you let yourself cry was that exact fateful day. Every single tear in your body had been used up to the point that you weren’t sure you were even capable of crying anymore.

Your back hit something hard, and you soon realized that two familiar arms were holding you to his chest. He breathed in and out, his inhales pressing against your back, indicating and proving that this was real. That he was real.

“How?” You sobbed, leaning into his arm.

Really, you didn’t care how. All that mattered was that he was here. And bit by bit, you would hopefully fix what was broken - regain what was lost.

Shifting around, you collapsed against him, wrapping your arms around his torso and gripping at his shirt desperately. You felt that if you let go, he would disappear. Just as he did the first time - when you let go of his sleeve, and he slipped away from your grasp, like he was never even there.

The only words that you were able to conjure were feeble apologies as you let yourself sob against his shirt. Inhaling his scent again for what felt like a lifetime, you finally felt like things were piecing together. Like you were whole again. Taking a quivering deep breath in, you finally lifted your head to look at him. He was just as beautiful as the day he left you.

He cupped your face as he rested his forehead against yours. You must have stayed like that for hours - or maybe it was only a few minutes.

All you knew was that no words had to be spoken for you both to understand. You were never going to leave each other again.

𝐜𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠𝟒𝐥 © 2024, all rights reserved.

[springtyme]

Hi sage <3 can we get more luca? pistachio kisses was so perfect, I would love more like it.

thank you, thank you, thank youuu <3

𝐀 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 ♡

Chef Luca x reader || Main Masterlist || Spotify

summary: Some moments can feel so simple, yet so fundamental at the same time. This morning with Luca is one of those moments.

word count: 1.7k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟓) 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲

You are sitting on the kitchen counter, legs gently swinging as you watch Luca by the sink, his back facing you, humming softly to himself as he washes his hands. The sunlight streams in through the window, casting a warm glow around the room. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans fills the air, while the cosy bubbling of the coffee brewing in the coffee maker mixes with the sound of Luca’s quiet humming.  

The warmth of the morning envelops you, and your body sways gently as you sit, taking in the comforting ambiance, and you can’t help but smile at the simple, serene moment unfolding before you. You admire Luca’s easy movements, the way the water cascades over his hands, glistening in the light. The golden light from the window plays off his hair, and the warm tones of the kitchen seem to wrap around him like a comforting embrace.

As he finishes washing his hands, he glances over his shoulder and catches your gaze, a smile breaking across his face that lights up the room even more than the sunlight. “What has you smiling like that?” he says, his voice warm and melodic.

You widen your smile in return, feeling a flutter of warmth in your chest. “You,” you reply, your voice soft and light, swinging your legs a little more, the rhythm of the moment making everything feel easy and carefree.

Luca wipes his hands on a towel, stepping over to you to lean against the counter beside you. He leans in slightly, just close enough that you can feel his warmth radiating toward you. His presence is grounding, a blend of comfort and familiarity. He tilts his head, consideration evident in his eyes. “Me?”

“Mm, you,” you affirm, nodding your head as you give him your sweetest smile, tilting your head so that your eyes align. 

He chuckles softly, a sound that feels like a gentle melody in the calmness of the kitchen. “What about me?” His eyes sparkle with curiosity, the playful edge in his voice making your heart race a little faster. 

You shrug playfully, your smile widening. “Just… the way you are,” you say, your voice dipping into a conspiratorial tone. “It’s nice watching you be you. It makes me happy… And the fact that you’re cooking me breakfast just makes it even better.”

He laughs softly, the sound a gentle melody that blends seamlessly with the ambience of the kitchen. “Well, it won’t be done in a while.”

You swing your legs a little more, revelling in the easy banter. “That’s okay. I’m perfectly content just watching you for now,” you reply, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Besides, I might be convinced to lend a hand if you let me stir the eggs or flip some pancakes.”

Luca raises an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “Oh really? You think you could handle that? Last time you tried to flip a pancake, it ended up on the floor.”

“Excuse me! That was only one time!” you giggle, feigning offence. “And you have to admit, I handled the cleanup like a pro.”

“True, true,” he concedes, stepping closer, his shoulder brushing against yours, enveloping you in warmth. “You definitely have your moments of glory,” he adds, laughter dancing in his eyes. 

“Oh, yeah?” You lean in slightly, lifting your hand and placing it on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. 

“Mhm,” he replies, his smile softening as he leans into your touch. 

You can’t help but let out a soft laugh as you lean in, the distance between you narrowing until you catch his lips in a gentle kiss, soft and lingering. His lips feel warm and inviting against yours, and that soft connection sends a delightful flutter through your chest. 

You pull away just enough to meet his gaze, your hearts a little more intertwined in that single moment. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you amidst the comfortable clutter of the morning.    

Luca’s eyes linger on yours, a mixture of surprise and delight shimmering in the depths of his gaze. The corners of his mouth curve upward, and a soft blush dusts his cheeks, enhancing the golden light that envelops him. He opens his mouth like he is about to say something, but before he gets to it the sound of your stomach growling interrupts the moment, echoing through the quiet kitchen. You both burst into laughter, as it reminds you of the reason you started this whole exchange in the first place.

Luca raises an eyebrow, the laughter still lighting up his face. “I guess I should go back to cooking breakfast, huh?” he says, his playful tone still dancing between you.

“One more kiss first,” you reply with a teasing smile, leaning in closer again, your heart racing at the thought of his lips against yours once more.  

Luca chuckles, the sound rich and warm. “You drive a hard bargain,” he says, feigning a sigh as he leans in, closing the distance between you. His lips meet yours again, this time a little more playfully, as if both of you are rediscovering that sweet spark that keeps igniting between you. 

You pull away, breathless, and give him a playful nudge with your shoulder. “Okay, okay, now you can get back to cooking,” you say, grinning.

Luca shakes his head, still smiling as he steps back toward the stove. He moves with an effortless grace, gathering ingredients from the countertop while his eyes occasionally flicker back to you, as if checking that you’re still watching. You settle back onto the counter, propping yourself up with your hands as you observe him, feeling a swell of affection that bubbles just beneath the surface. 

He opens the fridge and pulls out a fresh orange, the vibrant colour contrasting beautifully against the pale whites and browns of the kitchen. “Since you’re so good at being patient,” he says, holding it up with a playful gleam in his eyes, “how about a little something to nibble on while you wait?”

You smile, reaching out to accept the orange, but he doesn’t hand it over.

Your curiosity piqued, you watch as he expertly begins to peel the orange, his movements fluid and confident. His fingers move swiftly, deftly removing the skin in spiralling sections, the scent of citrus filling the air, mixing with the aroma of coffee and adding a fresh note to the kitchen. You can’t help but admire the way his concentration furrows his brow slightly. Each twist of the fruit reveals sections of juicy, succulent flesh beneath a bright and smooth exterior.

“See? This is what I’m talking about,” he says playfully, tossing the first few strips of peel into the sink with a satisfied flick of his wrist. “Here,” he says, holding out a perfect, juicy segment, the sun gleaming off its fresh pulp. “Just for you.”

You take the orange from his hand, feeling a burst of  gratitude at his thoughtful gesture. “Thank you,” you say softly, almost shyly as you inhale the refreshing scent of citrus. “I can’t believe that you’re peeling my oranges for me… You’re too sweet to me, you know?”

“I know that you don’t like getting the peel under your nails.” He says it like it is a well-worn secret, a tiny quirk he has memorised over time. 

You feel how warmth spreads in your chest by his words, making your heart flutter. He said it like it was so simple and so logical, and maybe it is, but to you it feels substantial, it’s like he’s holding a little piece of your heart in his hands. 

You jump down from the counter and step closer to him, feeling the urge to bridge the gap between the countertop and the stove. As you approach him, the warmth emanating from the stove intertwines with the warmth in your chest. You watch as he prepares the rest of the orange on a plate for you, pulling off those little white strings of pith.  

You feel a wave of adoration wash over you. You can’t resist reaching out, lightly brushing your fingers against his arm, a silent thank-you for all the little things he does.

Luca glances over at you, his eyes sparkling as he meets your gaze. The atmosphere feels electric, the air thick with an unspoken connection that pulls you closer. 

“Come here,” you say softly, stepping even closer, feeling a mixture of excitement and warmth radiating between you. It feels natural to inch forward, the magnetic pull urging you to close the distance.

“Where to?” he teases, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you, completely at ease. His casual demeanour only makes you want him closer.

“Just… closer.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, a tone that somehow carries the weight of all your feelings. The space between you flickers with an undeniable chemistry, a warmth that’s almost palpable.

With a soft, breathy chuckle, Luca takes a step toward you, the light from the window spilling over him like a golden blanket. He places the plate of orange on the counter beside him before leaning in, resting his hands on the edge, effectively locking you in his gentle gaze.

“You mean like this?” He leans slightly, his face just inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours—warm, sweet, and filled with the comfort of those playful moments you share.

“Exactly like that,” you reply, feeling a giddy thrill at the proximity as you lean in to plant another soft kiss on his lips, feeling the warmth radiate between you. It’s that familiar tingle, the way everything feels vibrant and alive when you’re near him.

Luca pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression softening. “What was that for?” His voice is low and earnest, wrapping around you like the sun’s rays streaming through the window.

You smile, your heart fluttering at the warmth in his gaze. “Just because,” you reply, letting the simple sentiment linger in the air between you. “Because I can, and because you are you.”

Luca’s cheeks flush slightly, and you can see the delight dancing in his eyes. He tilts his head, contemplating your words as if they’re the sweetest secret you’ve shared. “Well, I must say, I’m quite fond of your reasons…”

[inklore]

just a taste

premise: meeting luca after work doesn't usually end up with the two of you in an intense lip lock, both of you knowing once you start it's hard to stop. but that's what offices are for, right?

pairing: luca x (f)reader

word count: 3.1k

contents: literally barely any plot here, oral (f rec), unprotected p in v, coming inside, established relationship, doing it at the workplace, teasing, dirty talk, pet names.

note: i know the bare minimum about this man because i’ve never seen the bear but those tattoos, the accent, the hair?? fill me like an eclair is all i have to say ok!

The cool breeze of the night air almost makes you regret not just heading straight home and slipping under the steam of a nice long shower and grabbing the first blanket you see on the sofa and planting yourself there for the rest of the night. Await your boyfriend's arrival under the comfort of cotton and cushion that he’ll surely plop down next to you on after he’s kicked off his shoes. His cold fingers finding you under the blanket to pull you close to his side, a string of kisses pressed along the side of your neck before finding your lips. The smell of yeast and sugar—embedded in his skin at this point—making you bury your nose into his collarbone. 

But this was a ritual for the both of you. 

You finishing your studies and then meeting him after work. 

The two of you walking home together, barely making it through the threshold of your place before lips and clothes were being pressed together and thrown to the floor. Luca’s soft laugh at needing to shower. Thus always leading to your face pressed into the wall of the shower and Luca’s fingers digging into your hips as he thrust inside of you. 

So that nibble of regret doesn’t last long when you come to a stop in front of his work. The makings of anticipation pull at the corner of your mouth as you grab your phone from your bag and start to text him to let him know you’re out front. 

A text that’s barely on the last word when the breeze of the door is hitting you and making you look up, “you can go in. He's in the back.” a co-worker you’ve met a dozen times, but his name slips your mind as you give him an appreciative smile and thank him as you slip through the doors as he walks out. 

You could enter the kitchen a dozen times—a million, a billion—your nose filling with that sweet aroma, Luca bent over a table, a dish, fingers deep in a ball of dough, the monochromatic uniform making his tattoos stand out on his skin like the most beautiful canvas, and you’d never get over the view. 

Over how your insides react when you see him in his element.

See him doing what he loves. 

It’s like the first time every time. 

Just like the first time he dragged you into the kitchen after your tenth date. Showing you his own version of paradise. His love. His joy. The way his face lit up when your eyes brightened when you bit into the scone he had made—saved—for you. The euphoric sweetness a good dessert can do to one's brainstem is still a scientific mystery to you, but you’d gladly leave the research to the experts if you could experience it forever. 

Taste Luca’s creations forever. 

That memory seems like ages ago. Now well into two years of your relationship. 

Nothing seems to fade with Luca. 

Your first times feeling just as tortuous to your fluttering insides as the tenth or twentieth time around. 

It knocks you off kilter in the best way. 

And when you look over at Luca after dropping off your bag and sweater in an open chair, you can not help but laugh when he finally looks up from cleaning off the surfaces of the metal tables and that stone look of him being in chef mode falls from the creases of his face and his features melt into something soft. 

He doesn’t say anything until his arm is around your midsection, drawing you in. “Hi, beautiful.” He smiles as your lips meet in a long kiss. Kissing you as if he hasn’t seen you in days, as if he has spent the entire day waiting for this moment and this moment alone. “How was your day?” 

“Not as good as it is now,” you tease. Hand in the back of his hair, pulling his mouth back to yours. 

The hum that makes your lips buzz and that lands on your tongue as he backs you up so your back is pressed into the doorframe makes anything you could tell him about what happened in your day lackluster. Incomparable. How could you possibly think of anything worthwhile—how could anything be as worthwhile—as his tongue moving along your bottom lip, his hand at the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing a small circle into your skin? 

It couldn’t.

"Let me finish cleaning up," he smirks. Thumb and pointer reaching for your chin, squeezing it, luring you in for one last kiss before returning to cleaning and leaving you dazed in the doorway.  

And if you didn’t know how seriously Luca takes this, from the ritual of making pastries to maintaining a stern, clean kitchen, you would tell him to hurry. Complaining that it is not fair for him to kiss you like that and then make you wait for him to finish, but the payoff was always worth the wait. And you love Luca’s love for his craft. Love him in this element—watching him and seeing him go into that little part of his brain that makes him go into boss mode. 

The stern gentleness of it all. 

It’s breathtaking to watch.

It’s art.

He’s art. 

So that’s what you do. 

You push off the doorframe and enter further into the kitchen just to watch him. 

“How was your day?” You ask while watching him write on the white board in the corner. 

“Good. We got a new guy who came in.” 

“Is he any good?” 

“Better than he thinks he is.” 

“I bet you brought out his best. You always do.” You smile at him when you watch him shrug off the compliment, not missing the twitch of the corner of his mouth. Ever so modest. 

Wordlessly, he puts the cap back on the marker and sets it against the metal of the board, walking over to one of the refrigerators and pulling out a small bowl of something green and white. 

Something that looks too beautifully crafted to eat, let alone eaten by someone who might not fully understand what went into making something so decadent—something that looks like it would be served to someone with a gold card, not someone who eats boxed mac and cheese for dinner twice a week (which Luca always tries to make fancier than Kraft ever could). 

Luca hands you a spoon, “told him the only critic that mattered was sharing a bed with me.” You make a face, the both of you knowing how outlandish that sounds when the food genius himself is standing in front of you. The critic who mattered to a lot of people more than the girl who was sharing his bed. 

But it still brings a smile to your face. 

“Did he think you were utterly insane for such a statement? I think eating greasy takeout two nights in a row is five star dining.”

He chuckles, “you’re the only critic that matters to me.” His palms come down on the edge of the metal table between you as he leans against it. “The only important one at least. Try it.”

The swoop that runs through you from his words, from his eagerness to hear your thoughts on a dessert you do not even know the name of, but know you will appreciate more than anyone else because it came from someone he admires, makes your cheeks heat up. 

And when it touches your tongue, when that euphoric sweetness overcomes your tastebuds, you don’t think the English dictionary could come in handy with describing the taste. The goodness of it. Compliments, which you know Luca and his fellow chefs have heard many times before and then some. But still bring that artist's joy to their chests when your eyes widen and you look at them in something akin to shock. 

The moan you let out makes him grin.

“Good?”

“Is he single?” 

“Oh, that’s how it is, huh?” His arms cross over his chest, a playful brow raised.

You take another bite of the dessert, “I think you might want to start looking for another job.”

“And a girlfriend?”

You nod, “with something that tastes this good, I would give him my social security number easily. Oh my god.” You dramatically moan around the spoon, the action doing little to hide the simpering look on your face.

“Here I thought I was the only one who could make you spill such confidential secrets.” Luca strides across the table, coming to stand at your back. His lips pressing against the back of your neck and the top of your shoulder. 

Finding its home where your collarbone meets the junction of your throat, where he lets his warm breath blow against the known sensitivity there, then presses his lips to it. Making your back push into his front, your body melting against him. 

A soft noise lays dormant at the tail end  of your throat, making a ghost of a smirk etch against your skin from his mouth as he murmurs, “and the only one who can make those noises come out of you.”

Your voice is breathy when you say, “so much for being humble.”

"When it’s the truth, I do not need to be humble." His lips trailing to your ear, fingers running up the back of your exposed thighs, pulling up your skirt until they are at the apex of your hip, skating forward and close to your clothed mound. “Am I wrong? Should we see?” 

The spoon in your hand lucky you don’t have superhuman strength because it would be crushed in your grip right now. 

Luca’s fingers splay themselves across your pelvis, toying with the top of your underwear. “Hmm, awfully quiet now. Where’d my mouthy girl go?” An airy chuckle tickles your ear as he lets it out, “humbled are you?” 

There’s a teasing sneer forming on your mouth before it does a 180 and morphs into an ‘o’ as Luca’s fingers push into your underwear, the pad running through the clear as day arousal that’s been making your thighs clench uncomfortably since your kiss in the doorway. 

When the finger moves against your clit there's no covering up the gasps that fall from your lips. Or the way your ass grinds against the erection that’s pressing up against it. 

“Who’s humble now?” He teases. A cheeky grin on his face when he pulls his hand out from your underwear, bringing his finger to his lips and sucking it into his mouth. Making your cheeks heat even more when you turn to look at him. Your teasing turns needy as you give him that look, the one that always makes him drop whatever he is doing and have his body on yours within seconds. 

You both know that making it home now will feel ten times longer. Ten times more agonizing in the cool air with your warming bodies.

With you soaking your underwear and him hard against his zipper. 

So when he says “office”, all you can do is chew on your bottom lip in eagerness as you make a beeline towards it. Luca closer behind you than you expect when you hear the door shut seconds after you’ve entered and his mouth immediately on yours, your ass hoisted onto the nearest surface. 

Luca’s fingers making quick work to pull down your underwear, your skirt bunched at your hips. You fully expect him to pull himself up from his knees after slipping the lace from your ankle and tossing it to the floor. You expect him to come back up and slide inside of you quick and easy, but instead he’s trailing kisses and bites into your thighs. 

Blue eyes look up into yours, and he must see the need in them—that glint that tells him all you want is for him to be inside of you right now. The heady woes of foreplay just torture at this point. 

His teeth sink harder into your flesh, making you gasp. “I’ve worked hard all day; don’t I deserve a treat? A taste of the best dessert out there.” 

And how could you argue with that?

You can’t.

Not when his tongue runs from the bite mark in your skin to your wetness. Spreading you around him as he licks a stripe up your pussy. Your grip on the metal your ass is under hard and tight enough to leave marks against your palm. 

And as crude as it makes you sound, as obscene and cocky as it comes off your lips, you will never hold back from telling Luca that his talent as a chef will never outweigh how good he is with his mouth and cock. 

He’s multi-talented and it’s a blessing and a curse to your insides. 

“Oh, fuck. Luca,” your head hangs between your shoulders. Your fingers in his hair, the heel of your shoe pressed against his back—his apron long gone, leaving him in that navy blue—his fingers digging into the side of your thighs as he keeps you against his mouth. 

The mouth that’s switching between sucking your clit between his lips and rolling his tongue against it. Eating you like you’re the best dessert his tongue has ever had the pleasure of tasting. 

It never takes him long to get you there. To make your chest heave and your nerve endings light up, as if they are about to make you panic from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that is completely taking over your body. 

His fingers have created beautiful, mouth watering food, just as they’ve made you completely lose your mind. Your legs shaking around his head. Your back involuntarily bows until it hits the metal surface of the desk you’re perched on. 

It’s when he slips two fingers inside of you that you completely lose it. The sob that pulls itself from your lungs feels red-hot in your throat as your fingers grip the strands of his blonde hair as you come against his mouth. Your hips riding out your high. Rolling against his tongue in a languid way, drawing out the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Your body still reeling and alight with that desire-train that still has it wanting more. That heavy ache between your legs that wants to be filled. To be fucked by something bigger and thicker than a finger.

Your mouth comes down on the tabasco tattoo below Luca’s wrist in a gentle kiss, one of your favorites of his, when his hand comes to cup the back of your head to pull you up to him. 

His thumb runs from your cheek to your chin, where he pushes it up, so you’re looking up at him and he’s looking down at you as he stands between your legs. Your nails run along the tattoos along his arms, up his bicep, and to the nape of his neck. A fire burning in his eyes when your fingers run between the strands back there. 

“Tell me,” he says close to your lips. He’s checking in. Seeing if you’re too spent for his cock, seeing if there's more you want. If you want to wait until you get home. If you’re ready for him now. 

“It’d be cruel to not fuck me now.” You say it in a half-tease-half-serious tone. 

“Ooh,” he murmurs against your mouth, his tongue clicking against his teeth. “I don’t want to be cruel.” You can feel his other hand move between the two of you, undoing the button of his pants and messing with the zipper until he’s pulling himself out of them, hard and leaking. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t give my girl what she so desperately needs?” 

Luca smirks when you laugh into his mouth, “the worst kind.”

With one last kiss, lick, and nip at your lower lip, he’s rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your thighs shake. Nails dig into his skull as he soaks up your oversensitivity to coat himself before going lower and slipping inside of you in one slow, fluid motion. 

Your mouth hung open at the stretch, and your breath caught in your lungs. Your foreheads resting against each other as you let your walls accommodate his girth, both of your breaths heavy. The pounding you can feel between your legs—that you’re not sure is coming from him or you or something more poetic and overwhelming like your conjoined bodies aching as one, like a heartbeat aches for a chest cavity when it’s torn from a body. 

The two of you need this. 

Need each other. 

When Luca starts moving, you know the two of you are both completely fucked. Spent and so full of desire that you know your time in this office is just the start of a long night of tangled limbs and wet mouths. 

The sounds you are making against each other's mouth are breathy and intoxicating. His tongue in your mouth swallows every mewl and moan he coaxes from your body with each stroke of his cock. 

His fingers find the back of your head again, not allowing you to even think about leaving his mouth. 

You think you see stars when his palm finds the back of your thigh and pulls your leg higher on his hips. Think you could let this man completely consume you, and you’d still never be satisfied. Never get over how good it feels to feel his hips drive deeper into you, to feel the head of his cock hit that spot inside of you that makes his name roll off your tongue like a prayer. 

“Who’s pussy is it, baby?” 

"Mm'fuck," you are not sure if he is still playing the game of you leaving him for the new chef or if his filthy mouth is attempting to completely destroy you—which is nothing new when he has you coating and tightening around his cock like this. 

When you say his name, when you whine it into his mouth like a pathetic desperation, the erotic noise that it’s met with makes you cling to him tighter. Makes you press yourself closer to him. The movement makes the outside of his pants grind against your clit. 

“So beautiful,” Luca murmurs. The octave of his voice grows lower and choppy with heavy breaths the closer he gets. Neither of you lasts much longer when his pace picks up. The grip the two of you have on each other is hard and rough, enough to tear and leave marks that you’ll later kiss with gentle lips, unlike the passion that’s coming through with the hard kisses your mouths are giving as you both come. 

“How’d I get so lucky?” He breathes into your mouth, twisting your insides even more. 

[fannyspammy]

Tell Me More

Adam Warlock x Reader

Summary: Adam gets hard for the first time.

Warnings: 18+, nothing too too graphic (yet, hehe), still very steamy tho, mostly just dry humping & fantasizing

A/N: Two parts posted in one day??? Who is she??? Here’s the third part to the Firsts series! Wanted to get the next part out to you all asap because you’ve all been so supportive & I’m shocked at how much attention my posts have been getting lately 🥺🫶 If you haven’t read the previous parts yet, my masterlist is here! (Can be read as a stand-alone tho!)

[not my gif]

Since their first kiss, Adam couldn’t stop kissing y/n. He’d kiss her at every available moment — greeting her hello, after each compliment, with every please & thank you, waiting to cross a busy intersection… not that y/n was complaining. She loved kissing her golden boy too, & he was good at it.

A couple weeks later, Adam & y/n were in the middle of their most intense make out session yet. It began while they were sitting on the couch, listening to music. They sat side-by-side, but their bodies faced each other hands grasping at whatever they could — hair, face, & neck.

Craving for more of him, y/n lifted herself onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. They were a mess of touch and tongue.

Y/n could feel his bulge beneath her in this new position — still soft, but large enough for her to feel it pressed against her clothed core. She moaned at the feel of it, picturing herself lowering onto it, being stretched out by its size.

Y/n was growing increasingly aroused by her fantasy, supported by Adam sucking relentlessly on her neck, and soon her core was craving attention. Seeking friction she began to grind herself against the god beneath her, slowly but firmly dragging herself against his grey sweatpants. The feel of him pressed against her clothed core provoked a sinful moan from her, and Adam sucked harder on her sweet spot. She quickened her pace, stroking her soaking self against him fervently.

Then Adam stiffened as he, well, stiffened. Not fully, but enough for her to notice.

“Mm, baby, don’t stop,” y/n panted, never ceasing the eager roll of her hips.

“It’s… supposed to do that, right?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Okay, I just- it felt good, I just wasn’t sure.”

Y/n slowed her thrusts.

“Wait, you’ve never been hard before?”

“No.. This is the first time we’ve been this intense, so I’ve never felt… like this.”

Y/n smirked. “Well, let me help you.” She lifted her shirt over her head & tossed it onto the floor. Adam’s eyes widened at the sight of her in her bra.

“Mm, you like that?” she asked, although the hardening length beneath her gave away the answer.

Adam caressed her bare waist as he returned his attention to her neck, this time matching the movement of his hips with hers.

The growing friction left both of them moaning loudly, and Adam pulled y/n’s hair for better access. Throwing her head back in pleasure, she gripped Adam’s strong shoulders to steady herself as she quickened her pace.

“Mm, wanna know what I’m picturing right now?”

“What?” He asked, lips never leaving her skin.

“I’m picturing us naked, with you inside me.”

Adam pulled away from her neck to look at her, pupils dilated, before meeting her in a rough kiss. His hands squeezed her breasts through the fabric of her bra, and he sucked vigourously on her tongue.

Sucking the skin beneath her jaw, Adam gripped her waist firmly with one hand, rolling her left nipple in between the fingers of his other.

“Tell me more.”

Y/n gently pushed his head down to direct him toward her breasts. Receiving her message, Adam freed her right breast from its cup and latched onto it, swirling a tongue against the hardened nipple. He increased the intensity of his thrusts & y/n cried out in pleasure before continuing.

“You’re- mm!- taking me however you want, wherever you want- oh, yes- and your- ah!- cock is making me feel s-so good- mmm, yes!- as it moves in and out of me.”

Adam pulled her back by the hair to look at her, and his eyes studied her features — the glisten on sweat on her forehead, the redness of her cheeks and swollen lips, the way her face contorted in bliss.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he said, his golden features glistening softly in the dim light. He thrust his hard member hard against her, and watched her mouth part as she moaned.

“Adam, I-I’m close,” she said, her thrusts becoming more frantic.

Kissing her neck once again he mumbled against her skin. “Mm, close to what, baby?”

“C-close to- mmm- close to my climax.”

Climax, that’s what he was feeling himself building to! He felt it growing the more his hard cock rubbed against y/n through their clothes, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Now it made sense.

“I think I am too,” he said, quickening his pace. She followed. After a couple more heated minutes y/n came, crying his name as he sucked her tit & continued grinding her through her climax. The sight of her trembling in his lap was enough to bring him over the edge too, and the next thing Adam knew there was a stream of cum soaking his sweats.

Panting heavily, they began to wind down from their highs. Adam placed tender kisses across her collarbone and jaw, making his way back to her lips. He kissed her sweetly and rested his forehead against hers.

Y/n smiled with a small chuckle.

“That was… wow.”

Adam met her smile with his own, placing another quick kiss on her lips. Looking down at the wet spot on his crotch he laughed lightly.

“I think I need to change my pants.”

[elioas-diel]

gally the maze runner

🎀!who only has a soft spot for you

thinking about! gally who only has a soft spot for you ♡

🎀:: includes, glader!gally, dating him in the glade, fluff, head-canons (how i think he’d act in a relationship), and you!

-🎀-

thinking about! gally who’s hands can cause so much damage in the fighting circle but when he goes to touch you he handles you with the upmost care. as if you’re a fragile china set that’ll break at the smallest interference.

thinking about! gally who isn’t one to break rules around the glade going out of his way to find loopholes to make exceptions just for you. “i said no one could take extra plates - but you barely ate today so here,”

thinking about! gally who isn’t one to care about what others do (unless they aren’t doing their job) to suddenly becoming the most observant and concerned person you know after you officially started dating. you could be handling a semi-dangerous tool from across the glade and he’d just appear out of nowhere just to take it off of you. making excuses like “you don’t have the right grip for that,” when really, he just doesn’t want you to get hurt.

thinking about! gally who’s tough and harsh when he speaks to the others but only ever lowers his voice when it comes to you. you can see the way his shoulder slowly loosens and how he slightly undoes the tension in his jaw. he always listens intently, to what you have to say even biting back his usual sarcasm.

thinking about! gally who’d drop anything he’s doing to help you out. if you’re struggling, if you’re in distress - he’s there. no hesitation, no question’s needed. anything to help lighten the load for the one person he loves.

thinking about! gally, who’s known to be stubborn and hotheaded among the gladers, someone who hardly ever admits when he’s wrong. even you aren’t inexperienced when it comes to seeing him get angry. so imagine your surprise when you heard that foreign phrase: “i’m sorry,” being muttered under his breath after your first argument as a couple.

thinking about! gally who’d change his attitude just for you. for you he’d try to be better. if that means, changing his behaviour or even being more patient with newer greenies (which. is. a. pain) but he’d do it all for you - just to see that pretty smile on your face or hear your loving compliments. he hates to admit it but you’ve softened him up but he wouldn’t have it any other way. after all, you’re the only person who can make this prison-dump tolerable.

-🎀-

[loveroffictionalmen]

hey! i just came over from tiktok, could you possibly do a gally x reader where he tries to act tough around all of the guys but (y/n) starts teasing about how sweet he actually is and he has to try and defend himself but gets all flustered over it, but can’t get mad at (y/n) cause he’s got that fat crush on her? (fem pronouns possibly please?)

Not So Tough

Pairing: Gally x fem!reader

Description: Gally has a hard exterior, but secretly melts when y/n is around.

Warnings: smooching, glade slang, idk just a lot of fluff, gally being a bit of a jerk

Words: 651

Prompt: Grumpy x Sunshine Trope

A/N: It lowkey ends kinda abruptly but OH WELL HERE YA GO

“Gally, would you please stop yelling at the rest of the builders and actually start building?” Newt called from the gardens.

“No can do, I gotta make sure everyone stays in line, that’s why you put me in charge of the builders, remember?” Gally called back, yelping soon after when one of the newer gladers dropped a piece of wood on his head. “You shank! Look what you’ve done! Dropping klunk all over the place, you should be sent to the slammer!”

“Gally, is that really any way to talk to the new guy?” Y/n jogged up to Gally from the med-jack hut where she was just supervising Clint and Jeff. Y/n was somewhat of a floater when it came to jobs. When they were testing what jobs she was good at, she was nearly good at every single one. Well, except for the slicers. Poor Winston nearly scared the girl half to death when he first came out with a machete.

“I uh- Well he dripped- I mean dropped that shucking piece of wood on me an-” Gally stammered.

“Gally, c’mon give the guy a break, he’s only been here a week,” Y/n said with a soft smile.

“Look, I’m just trying to do my job, gotta make sure everything gets done, right?” Gally said, seeming to regain his composure.

“And it will get done, you can just be a little nicer about it through,” Y/n said, placing a hand on Gally’s arm and running her fingers down his bicep.

Gally blushed. Y/n was playing him like a fiddle and she knew damn well what she was doing.

“I’ll see you at supper?” Y/n said.

“You know you’re the only one that calls it that, right? It’s dinner,” Gally snorted.

“Oh shut it, you know you love me,” Y/n said before turning over her shoulder and walking away, not before giving Gally one last smile. Gally stood there for a moment, not sure what to do with himself.

“Oi, Gally, what were you saying about making sure things get done?” Newt called, snickering to Alby.

“Oh slim it,” Gally growled. “No- you can’t hammer that in, there’s not a screw to hold it together!” He turned his attention to the Greenie.

___

“Hey big guy, not interested in tackling anyone to the ground tonight?” Y/n’s voice came from above Gally.

“No, not tonight, gonna try to go to sleep early,” Gally said, getting up and trying his best to avoid y/n. But before he could leave, y/n grabbed his wrist.

“Wait- did today really bother you?” She asked, furrowing her brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gally broke away from her grip and tried to escape again, but she was too quick for him. She grabbed his arm again.

“You know what I’m talking about. I didn’t think it would bother you, I thought you would actually like it, y’know considering I was flirting with you.” Gally’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“Oh my god,” Y/n laughed. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Kinda hard to pay attention to that when things need to get done,” Gally cleared his throat, trying his hardest to hide the smile that was forming on his face.

“Oh don’t act like you weren’t blushing the whole time you- oh my god you’re even blushing right now!” She laughed.

“Shh, no I’m not,” Gally smiled back at her, the blush returning to his cheeks.

“You are! Gally’s blushing! Gally’s blu-” Y/n called when she was cut off.

Gally’s lips crashed into hers as his hand moved to her cheeks. Y/n closed her eyes and sunk into the kiss, bringing her arms around his neck. When Gally pulled away first, y/n smiled.

“What was that for?” She breathed.

“To shut you up,” Gally smiled. He looked to her lips and back to her eyes. “And also because I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

[agneslovestheinternet-blog]

FUCK YOU, don't leave me

Part Two: Three Weeks (Part One, Part Three)

Gally x Fem!Reader

3 weeks have passed since the incident that took your feud with Gally to fiery new heights. Apologies have been exchanged, wounds are healing, and you’re trying your very best to move on despite Gally’s recent bout of strange behavior. In the midst of his mounting distraction and your continued efforts to return to business-as-usual, you receive an order from Alby that has you questioning your enemy’s motives like never before.

Genre: enemies to lovers, spice (very briefly it’s mostly plot)

Word Count: 3K  Read Time: 12 Minutes

Warnings & Info: very light very brief sexual content, language, had to change the POV for this one it’s omniscient, movie!Gally, only Glader slang is shank, not the only girl in The Glade, nonessential OC’s added

Author’s Note: At first I thought this fic was gonna be a oneshot, then two parts, and now it’s honestly looking more like four. Hope y’all enjoy reading this one as much as I’m enjoying writing it; it really heats up in the next part (there’s smut lol);)

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It’s been 3 weeks since the bonfire incident and every one of the days within them has been grueling for you. 3 weeks of apologies; to Alby, Newt, Elsie, Thomas, Ben, Lierale, Chuck and anyone else that had the misfortune of being near the bonfire that night. 3 weeks of waking up stiff from a night of sleeping in The Pit (Alby’s punishment). 3 weeks of evacuating the med-hut everytime Gally needed a check-up. 3 weeks of busy work and late shifts, trying to silently repay Clint and Jeff for their services that night by doing all the jobs they hate doing. 3 weeks of doing your own wound care. 3 weeks of staying out of everyone’s way and trying but failing to avoid the stares. And hardest of all, 3 weeks of having to come to terms with the fact that you’d finally gone too far. 

You had always prided yourself on only fighting Gally back in a defensive manner; only pushing back as much as he pulled you. But this stunt had thrown that streak out the window. Though it didn’t change the way you felt about him, you had to admit that scarring him permanently with an alcohol-fueled bonfire was hardly an appropriate punishment for slut-shaming and verbal harassment. 

For the first 3 days after the incident you were only let out of The Pit to go to the bathroom and shower. Alby had agreed to let you return to normal duties, if you continued to sleep in The Pit every night and didn’t socialize outside of work. But the main condition of your parole, (and the hardest one to fulfill), was an apology to Gally. It had taken place behind the Map Room, (a neutral location), and Alby had invited himself, Minho and Ben to keep the peace. Despite the countless apologies that had flowed from your lips like a never-ending tap, this one seemed to all but dry you up.

You had found it hard to meet Gally’s eyes at first, choosing to scan the bandages wrapped tightly around his strong arms, which were crossed in front of his chest. Your eyes finally settled on the prominent veins on the top of his left hand as you struggled to choke out the words.

“I’m sorry Gally,” you’d started, devoid of emotion. You lifted your head to meet his eyes. 

“You’re a dumb asshole…” Alby, Minho, and Ben moved in closer. “...but you didn’t deserve that,” you finished earnestly. 

“I am sorry that I hurt you. I hope it makes you feel better that I am also very hurt,” you continued with a dryer tone, motioning to the bandages wrapped around your chest and hands, a small smile tugging at your lips. Gally had returned it, against his better judgement. He looked to Alby, who gave him a reassuring nod.

“I’m sorry too, Y/N,” he said with a blank expression on his face.

“You’re the worst shank I’ve ever met…” Minho rolled his eyes. “...but I shouldn't have called you a slut. It’s not your fault all the guys around here only think with their dick,” he finished, using a softer tone that didn’t suit his defensive stance.

“And it does make me feel better, by the way,” he shrugged, nodding his head at the bandages poking out of your shirt.

“How about you shake on it?” Alby suggested cooly.

“No way,” you stated bluntly, your eyes narrowing as they never left Gally’s.

“Fuck no,” Gally scoffed, still staring at you. “The apology was painful enough,”

“Alright fine,” Alby conceded. “Get back to work. And if either of you come anywhere near each other, you’ll be living in The Pit until the next greenie comes up, am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Gally replied, finally turning his eyes to Alby’s face. You nodded slowly. Alby looked suspicious, but he waved his hand to dismiss you both. You both turned abruptly and took off walking in opposite directions, you towards the Med-hut and Gally towards his construction site. The three makeshift peacekeepers turned the corner to enter the Map Room.

“That was an apology?” Ben asked, scanning Minho’s expression for a hint of the same shock he was experiencing. 

“If I had nearly blown up The Glade, seriously burned someone and then tried to apologize to them like that, I think Alby would throw me to The Maze and lock the doors,” Minho just shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s the best we’re gonna get from those two. I’m just glad they didn’t try to kill each other on sight,” he countered, relieved it was over. After this apology, you and Gally had resumed your persistent yet unspoken agreement to never find yourselves near each other and any vague plots of revenge had died quickly, much to everybody’s relief. But it wasn’t exactly business as usual for Gally.

His 3 weeks have gone by a little differently than yours. 3 weeks of changing drainage-soaked bandages. 3 weeks of constant jokes about your outburst from his crew. 3 weeks of being watched like a hawk for any lingering retaliation plots. 3 weeks of being interrogated by his friends about his feelings on the matter. 3 weeks of daily check-ups in the med-hut by Clint & Jeff. 3 weeks of an extremely early curfew & a laundry list of extra chores set in place by Alby, who assured him that his role in the incident would not go unpunished. But he can deal with all of that.

The thing he’s having a harder time dealing with is how distracted he’s been. It’s so obvious that something’s bothering him that his crew has taken notice, his friends are concerned and even you can tell something’s not quite right. And that’s the thing that’s really been bothering him these last three weeks. The racing thoughts that are so out of character, Gally would rather fight a Griever barehanded than tell anyone about them.

The thoughts crept in slowly, like the beginning of a fever. He knew what he saw in the Med-hut that night and he knew his reaction. Arousal, obviously. He didn’t try to deny it to himself; that would have been pointless. But he did come up with a million justifications for it, each one weaker than the last.

I was drunk. 

He’d repeat to himself like a mantra. 

I was drunk and in pain and not in my right mind. 

He’d repeat with less confidence.  

I’m a repressed teenage boy who’s spent 3 years in a prison, most of that time with only other teenage boys. 

He’d continue, committing this list of contingencies to memory. 

That’s just a normal reaction for a boy to have when seeing a girl shirtless. It’s got nothing to do with feelings; it’s just human nature.

He’d think, coming up with some bullshit biological, animalistic, purely knee-jerk reason for the way his cheeks flushed while looking at you. The way he suddenly felt dizzy and not from the pain. The way his eyes widened and his thoughts immediately derailed into an X-rated movie.

I can’t fucking stand her. 

He’d always save this justification for last as it seemed to bring a finality to the matter. That just because he’s a warm-blooded male with the same instincts and needs as the rest of his species, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re the worst shank he’s ever met. So that was that. His mind had found an uneasy peace with it. Until the dreams started. 

They would come in flashes, just sensual tableaus that came right out of every abstract fantasy he’d ever come up with in the shower or late at night in his bed. Your lips on his neck, your hands gripping the coarse sheets of his bed, the feeling of plush skin beneath his hands, soft moans filling the warm air around him. He’d wake up breathless, all the warmth from his face draining to his boxers.

The fever was rising in pitch.

It was after these dreams that he’d thank the gods that his Keeper status got him a private hut so he could…take care of himself before heading off to work. But the thoughts would follow him throughout the day, spiking his body temperature each time they interrupted him.

“Watch it Gally!” a blonde-haired Builder hissed, ducking out of the way of the lumber he’d had slung over his shoulder that became a beheading hazard when he’d turned too fast. This was more than a week after the incident and Gally’s head had been preoccupied with the image of you on your knees, instead of his surroundings.

“Sorry sorry. My fault,” he’d mumbled back, trying to conceal the flush in his cheeks and cursing at himself under his breath.

“Gally the wall!” Newt had exclaimed five days later, pointing to the newly erected wooden structure that Gally had failed to notice while shoving his nose in the newest blueprints he’d drawn up. His head hit it with a hollow thump.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his papers and massaging his forehead with his palm. Newt dropped his gardening hoe and jogged over.

“You alright mate?” he inquired lightly, trying to conceal the concern in his voice. If the ever-unflappable Gally had gotten to the point of literally running into walls, then there was definitely cause for concern.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Gally grumbled, shaking his head and trying to come to his senses. Unfortunately this accident had taken place in the middle of the day in one of the most trafficked areas of the Glade. And so the whispering had started. The strange glances his way during meal times, the ever growing mountain of well-meaning questions from coworkers and friends alike. The sentiment that Gally was for some reason, losing his mind, had even floated all the way into the med-hut, where you overheard it from Clint and Jeff.

“Yeah I don’t know, it's just weird. The shank’s a drill sergeant and now all the sudden he’s letting everybody off work an hour early?” Clint stated incredulously, wiping down a table that had been used to stitch up a nasty cut on a Builder’s arm a few minutes ago. The boy had come in an hour before sunset and Jeff had marveled in awe that he’d managed to convince Gally that a cut was enough of a reason to leave work early. The boy had responded, wide-eyed and with a hushed voice, that Gally let everyone out of work early, not just him.

“Maybe he’s sick. Maybe he’s been stung and this is the first phase of The Changing.” Jeff countered with a grin, emptying an armful of bloodied gauze into the fire.

“I hope not. Gally would make one hell of a Crank,” Clint scoffed and Jeff chuckled in response. You stopped pretending to go over the injury logs for the week behind the half wall that was obstructing your view of your coworkers, who you were shamelessly eavesdropping on. You rounded the corner quickly, intent on butting in.

“Gally let everyone out of work early?!” you asked dumbfounded. Clint and Jeff jumped slightly at your question and scanned your face for any trace of an outburst forming.

“Uh, yeah. It’s weird huh?,” Clint answered uneasily, still unsure of your motives. You weren’t exactly sure of your own motives so you gave a subtle nod of approval at his rhetorical question.

Why the hell would Gally let everyone out of work early? You’d seen him around the Glade with a dazed look in his eyes and you’d heard from Newt that he ran into a wall last week, but you couldn’t fathom what would be making him so distracted. You weren’t given much time to mull over the possibilities, as Alby suddenly appeared in the open door of the Med-hut, rapping curtly on the wooden door.

“Y/N, do you have a minute?” your leader asked calmly.

“Of course,” you responded quickly, trying to keep the panic flooding through your body at bay.

“Walk with me,” he motioned with his arm. You crossed the hut and followed him out the door, running through the list of everything you’ve done in the last several weeks, trying to find the discretion you were sure Alby was about to scold you for.

The sun was setting on The Glade, and it cast a distinctly romantic feeling into the air. You admired the orange and pink hues reflected onto the green grass and drank in the warm air that was punctuated by the excited chattering of your fellow Gladers in the distance, who were setting up for tonight’s bonfire. Your chest tightened at the thought. You knew you’d be the talk of the night and that everyone with a thirst for chaos would be hoping for a round 2 of your pyrotechnic prowess.

“So it’s bonfire night,” Alby broke the silence with a matter-of-fact tone.

“Yeah I know Alby. Don’t worry, I just need to clean up in the med-hut and I’ll be straight off to The Pit before it’s even dark,” You tried to get ahead of his warnings. But Alby was taken aback by this statement; he didn’t have any warnings to give. In fact quite the opposite.

“No Y/N, I want you to be there tonight,” You stopped dead in your tracks, your ears ringing slightly.

“What? Why?!” Alby tried not to be affected by your shock and continued with his well-rehearsed speech.

“I’ve spoken to Gally about this. If you two don’t go, the excitement about your incident from last month will only continue. It’s already all anyone will talk about. I know you’ve noticed that all eyes have been on you two,” he stated with a concerned look on his face that finally confirmed to you that he wasn’t joking.

“Of course I’ve noticed Alby, people call me “Firecracker” more often than my name. But if we go, it’ll be chaos,” you countered, your voice hissing slightly at the pronunciation of what was rapidly becoming your least favorite nickname. Honestly, you’d do anything to go back to your earliest days in The Glade, when a particularly cruel sect of boys started calling you “Suzy Swallows” after you’d eaten a banana at the breakfast table with a little too much gusto.

“If you both go and you both keep your temper in check,” Alby glared at you, “and you both stay sober,” he raised his voice slightly, punctuating the last word, “and everyone sees that nothing happens tonight then it will all blow over. If you don’t go, the gossip will only grow and we’ll just have to deal with it twofold next month. It’s better to rip the bandage off,” 

That last sentence was more to reassure himself than you. The Glade has to move on from this. It needs order to function and a female arsonist is the direct antithesis to that order. It’s bad enough he can’t seem to get a large sect of the boys to keep their hands off the very few girls; god forbid they all start thinking the best way to deal with that conflict is to set the place on fire.

“Is this an order, Alby?” You couldn’t think of any other protests at the moment. Alby did have a point; you and Gally not being there would almost certainly ensure that no one would be talking about anything else.

“Yes it is,” he retorted quickly. He quickly softened his tone. “Besides, you deserve a bit of a break, Y/N. You’ve been doing really good this past month. If everything goes well tonight, you can sleep in your own bed again and be free to do what you like after work,”

The sound of his praise elicited a sigh of relief that washed over your tense body like a wave of warm water. Alby knew you weren’t inherently stupid or destructive; just prone to bouts of occasional drunkenness and pigheadedness like the rest of the Gladers. He felt that your punishments had more than compensated for your crime and frankly he was starting to feel guilty every time he saw you timidly navigating your day to day activities with the demeanor of a kicked puppy.

“Ok. Let me finish up in the med-hut and get changed, and I’ll be there. Thank you, Alby,”

“You’re welcome,” he paused, a conflicted look on his face, as he pondered if he should mention one other detail of this arrangement. “You might want to thank Gally too. When I brought up this idea to him, he offered to stay in his hut and let you go tonight, but I refused. It seems despite your feud,” the corners of his mouth upturned in a slight smile, “he thinks you deserve a break, too,” Alby continued in the direction you’d both been walking in, still wondering if it had been wise to divulge that fact to you. He wasn’t sure if it would soften your anger towards Gally but he was confident it couldn’t make it any worse. You had remained frozen in place, bewilderment setting in rapidly.

What the fuck??

Gally had offered to do something…kind for you? He’d offered to sit out bonfire night, the one night a month in which he can let off steam by beating the shit out of greenies and getting his friends drunk, for you? You turned your head slightly, wondering if you were about to watch The Glade freeze over or The Maze come crumbling down, as the likelihood of those things happening seemed higher than the likelihood of what you’d just been told. You shook your head to clear the confusion and started half-running, half-walking to the Med-hut, finally letting the excitement of getting to do something fun for the first time in a month swell in your chest.

You never thought you would ever feel the sentiment that came to your mind next. It went against every instinct you had and all the history you’d established in your time in The Glade. But you couldn’t help it, the warm feeling of gratitude spread through your chest quickly and you found yourself muttering a very unusual string of words as you approached the Med-hut doors.

“Thank you Gally,”

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Tags: @katie-tibo @my-little-universes @vaille123

[countlessimagines]

Star Lord’s Sister [ Adam Warlock x Reader ]

GOTG VOLUME 3 SPOILERS!!!

Summary: Star lord’s sister takes a liking to the new member of the Guardians

A/N: my beloved!!! <3

-

Ever since you met Adam Warlock, he had been head over heels for you. Constantly following you around, wanting to be by your side 24/7, interested in your hobbies, and so much more.

You honestly didn’t mind it and found it adorable. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t catching feelings too.

Adam and you had been on quite a few dates since meeting and tried to spend most of your time together since Rocket always whisked him away for Guardians’ duties. He would always pout when he had to leave, but would always kiss you with so much passion, that the rest of the guardians would gag while boarding the ship.

And your brother seemed to not enjoy the constant hanging out together as much as you did. Peter had begun to call you at the end of each week from Earth to catch up on what was going on. He quickly noticed your interests began to revolve around Adam and you two seemed to be attached to the hip.

“So, the guy saves me and you fall madly in love with him?” Peter snickered and shook his head. “I leave for a few months and already it sounds like you two are married.”

You rolled your eyes at your brother’s response, not wanting to hear any of his nonsense. “So what? I am an adult and can do whatever I please.”

“Okay sure, let me know when the wedding is.”

You were about to fire back until Adam walked in from the bathroom only in a towel, saw Peter on the monitor, and promptly fell to the ground and army crawled away.

You groaned and dragged your hand across your face. “Adam!”

“Hey hey wait a minute! I was joking about the wedding, Adam get your ass back to the screen!” Peter began to shout over the screen. “Stay away from my sister!”

“Okay bye, love you!” You hurried and ended the call quickly.

Adam rose from behind the side of the bed and shrugged innocently when you turned to him. You picked up a pillow from the ground and tossed it at his head.

“Sweetheart! I told you I was calling my brother, he was finally warming up to the idea of us,” you stood up and laid flat on the bed. “Now he’s seen you half naked in my place so I can only imagine he’s going to fly all the way here to beat you up.”

Adam shuffled into clothes and flopped beside you. “I would like to see him try to keep me away from you.”

You faced him and couldn’t help but melt at his cute pouty face. “Yeah yeah, but please don’t hurt my brother if he tries to kick your ass.”

Adam nodded and grabbed you lovingly in his arms. “Can we just stay in today?”

“Why’s that?” You mumbled into his chest.

“Because I rather cuddle my girlfriend than help rocket on a mission today.” Adam kissed your forehead repeatedly and made you giggle uncontrollably.

“Stop stop!” You said and pushed on his chest. “Why don’t you go tell rocket that you can’t make it and then we can have a lazy day in?”

Adam planted a kiss on your check, stood up, saluted you, then quickly left to get out of saving the world today - simply because his world was too cute to leave.

-

An hour went by without Adam returning, and it wasn’t until your monitor began to beep did you put two and two together. You answered the call that was coming from the Guardians’ ship and saw Adam’s face pop up, and he was in full gear.

You shook your head and sighed, “Care to explain yourself?”

“Okay, well,” Adam dragged off his voice and moved a bit from the screen to point an accusing finger towards Rocket, “He told me it would only take an hour, but once I got on the ship he told me it was a two day trip.”

Rocket popped up and said, “Sorry for stealing your boyfriend, (Y/N). You’ll have to cuddle your pillow the next couple of nights. The world needs Warlock, and trust me I wouldn’t bring his bright gold self unless it was necessary.”

Rocket jumped away when Adam tried to wack him.

“I’m sorry my love. I promise it will go by quick and I’ll be back before you can say ‘I have the best boyfriend in the whole wide galaxy and he’s gonna smother me in kisses when he returns!’” Adam tried to do a high pitched voice to imitate you to which you rolled your eyes.

“Alright, whatever you say,” you waved and blew a kiss to him before ending the call.

-

The next few days were uneventful, and you were knocked out asleep when your guardians pin began to beep and pulled you out of sleep.

You pressed on it and spoke into it sleepily, “what’s wrong?”

Rocket’s urgent voice spoke through the comm, and it made you wake up fully. “(Y/N)! Prepare med packs! Adam got hit and we need to work on him urgently!”

You rushed out of your apartment and down flights of stairs before running to the supply closet. You pressed your comm again to speak to Nebula. Once she finally answered, you explained quickly what was going on and she was next to you within minutes to set up for their arrival.

It wasn’t long before Kraglin rushed in with Adam slumped over his shoulder, barely responsive. He placed him on a nearby table while you grabbed Adam’s hand and tried to figure out what was wrong with him.

“He took a blow to his stomach, we should be able to patch him up quickly but the beast repeatedly hit him in the wound… making him bleed out.” Kraglin was rushing his words, not making complete sense but still wanting to explain everything.

You nodded as Nebula put a med pack on his stomach, hoping it would help. Adam started to breath deeply and you let out a small cry seeing him in such distress.

A part of you knew that the pack would either help or just make the situation worse. As Adam didn’t wake up quickly enough to be okay, you grabbed a sewing kit, alcohol, and a towel.

Removing the med pack, you removed his vest and immediately began to work with Nebula’s help. It was a tense moment, only the sounds of Adam’s breathing could be heard in the room.

Not too long after you finished the stitch across his stomach and placed the med pack on his wound to finish the healing process. Everyone let out a breath of relief as Adam began to breath normally again.

“You guys can go and clean up, I bet you all have some wounds that need to be tended to.” You said to Kraglin and Rocket who nodded.

Nebula reassured Rocket that she wouldn’t leave you alone. You smiled gratefully at her as you grabbed Adam’s hand and pulled up a chair beside the table.

“I’m gonna wait a few hours before trying to move him to my place.”

-

Hours went by and you had fallen asleep, still holding tightly onto Adam, not wanting to let go in fear something bad would happen if you did. It was in those moments, going in and out of sleep - that you both realized how much you truly loved one another. It was a selfless and innocent love, something so pure that nothing would come in-between the two of you.

Adam had woken up first, confused and sore, but the moment he saw you slumped over the table, holding his hand - he instantly calmed down. He was so relieved he made it back alive and was with you again. He remembered his promise he made and kissed your hand repeatedly to wake you up.

With a startled jump, you woke up in a frenzy and immediately checked to see if something was wrong.

“Did I worry you?” Adam said softly, gazing lovingly at you.

“Oh, so so much.” You placed a hand on his cheek, so happy to see him awake and well. “I think I might have to kidnap you from missions from now on until you’re better.”

“Trust me, I am going to try to take less advice from Rocket and Groot on missions… and take a break.” Adam said and shuttered as if remembering how he ended up in the situation in the first place.

“I’m just happy you’re home,” you smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Adam became teary-eyed at the thought of you being his home. After being pulled out of the cocoon too early and losing his mother, he had felt like he would never feel at home anywhere and be lost without anything to live for. Thankfully, he was wrong. He had found you and the guardians, and now he could go home to someone who loved and cared for him. And Peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy that you had found someone to love. In the whole of the galaxy, your brother was happy you had Adam.

[anundyingfidelity]

pls help me to decide thank you 🤲❤️‍🩹

[gladerscake]

Gally Feeling Needy Headcanons

(Gally x Reader)

First of all, Gally would never be very open about feeling needy/craving attention

Nope, not even with you

However, having known him long enough, you would be pretty good at reading the signs

He visits you at your designated “work area” more often than usual

“Sir, can I help you with something?”

“Don’t mind me, just looking.”

He offers help with stuff you could absolutely manage by yourself

He knows it too, he just needs to blurt out a reason for hanging around you all day

His attempts at subtlety are poor

He gets more touchy than usual, swinging his arm around you and stealing quick kisses here and there

It’s very distracting, so you would playfully shoo him away, despite secretly (or not so secretly) enjoying every bit of it

He cannot wait for the work day to be over so that he could have you all to himself

As soon as dinner’s over, he leads you right back to your shared hut

“Gal, they’re having a bonfire-”

“Good for them, let’s go.”

Once the door is shut behind you, he picks you up off the floor and carries you to the bed

Your relentless giggling and weak attempts to wriggle free do not faze him in the slightest as he drops you onto it

For a moment you think his urgency might be rooted in some of his more primal desires

not that that would be a problem

But no, that’s not what he needs at the moment

maybe later

He wraps you up in his burly arms and pulls you into him as closely as possible

Gally’s grip leaves you zero chances of escaping

You’re not thinking of going anywhere, obviously

As soon as you feel the warmth of his chest and his heartbeat against yours, you’re done thinking about anything else

It’s clear as day that Gally needs your undivided attention and you’re more than happy to give it to him

He soon relaxes upon feeling your lips peppering soft kisses all over his face and forehead

You can feel the tension leaving his strong shoulders as your hands knead them just the way he likes it

Eventually Gally begins dozing off, though his hold on you remains surprisingly strong and steady

Even in his sleep, he has no intention of letting you go

In his mind, he’s done a good enough job hiding the true extent of his neediness

You let him think that. Just as you will next time, and the time after that.

[gallyismylittlesilly]

me when theres nothing new on the #gallyxreader tag (I checked it an hour ago)

[newtkive]

sweet tooth | luca drabble

just thinking about luca w a partner who has a crazy sweet tooth (like i do) and you never asking for a sweet treat but mentioning it nonchalantly but still not expecting luca to make you something.

first of all, your nickname would probably be sweet tooth or smth similar, let’s be so real. it would start by luca calling you that affectionately, but then it catches on w friends and family and you’re just dubbed sweet tooth.

in general, if you saw some type of dessert on a commercial or a tiktok that had you going ‘oohhh’ luca would scrunch his brows and almost seem jealous. “they used meringue, they should’ve used icing sugar.” he’d scoff judgingly and just see it as a challenge. after he would deem it doable, he’d store the information in his brain and literally make it better at work the next day.

just say the word and he will make it. telling your friends on the phone that macaroons sound good? cool, he wants to practice his piping technique with the biscuits anyways.

a japanese fruit sando? awesome he can make the sweet bread so fast, and the cream is no big deal. in fact he can just whip it up for lunch.

want a hersheys bar? first, that chocolate is trash don’t ever mention it to a european, especially your european chef boyfriend. second, he’ll make you the best stack of milk chocolate, dark chocolate, white chocolate, and cookies n’ cream bar you’ve ever had (the cookies n cream one is so good, and you’d always say that and it would piss him off). anything to get hershey’s out of your brain.

you see those viral crunchy chocolate and pistachio filled croissants in new york on your phone and groan abt them? he can research the recipe and workshop it for a day or two in the restaurant kitchen, find a cute take out box to present it to you with to give you that full experience you’d get from the real bakery—you just gotta wait. even if it’s a couple days later, it’ll be waiting for you on the table, or pulled out from behind luca’s back as he walks through the door.

to be more specific, maybe at midnight when he doesn’t have work the next day, you guys are up watching a movie or just having pillow talk. saying smth nonchalant abt your cravings like “cookies sound so good right now luca.. don’t they?” your cheek is smushed against his bicep (which you’d much rather eat) so your voice is all cute and mumbled making his heart race.

“mhm.” he’d say. he’s got a lazy smile n a deep chuckle, voice laden w sleep since you’re the night owl and he’s just staying up to spend time with you. “you wan’ me to make some right now? that what you’re saying?” he’s clearly amused, knowing that you don’t expect him to but teasing you nonetheless.

“nono, it’s too late. you’re not allowed to leave anyways.” you would mumble again, arms tightening around his own in a hug. humming happily, a kiss from the chef would land on your head and you kinda forget about the dessert you want but luca doesn’t because he’s a chef and his literal profession is making desserts so why wouldn’t he?? when you want something he can easily make?? like his love language is giving, especially if it’s baking something for someone he loves.

the next day you’d still be asleep and wake up to the smell of cookies. savory was your forte in the morning most times but who could say no to starting their day with a yummy sweet when it’s presented to them, right?

it would take you a second to realize that 1. luca wasn’t wrapped around you like usual, etching a frown into your face, and 2. luca had to be the one making cookies. and he made the best cookies. you’d waste no time in grinning and hopping up to drag yourself to the kitchen. even more of the smell would welcome you, transporting you into some kind of dreamland—and if you really were dreaming you’d be so pissed bc the cookies being pulled out of the oven by your blond messy haired boyfriend look so fucking good right now (aside from the aforementioned boyfriend who is just as, if not more scrumptious than the cookies with only his flannel pants on).

arms would wrap around his waist from behind and luca would laugh muttering “hot pan” but you don’t give a fuck because you want him and those cookies now. if anything your arms tighten and you rub at his stomach sweetly from behind, a sign of affection.

“you made me cookies!” the grin would be so evident in your voice and so infectious that luca beams as he transfers the said cookies onto a pretty dish.

“and who said they were for you?” the tease is obvious and earns an eye roll. you don’t fall for it and he doesn’t expect you to, but you gently nip at his shoulder nonetheless. a dramatic ‘ow!’ comes from the tall man, laced with laughter. you snicker evilly, standing on tip toes to rest your chin on the same shoulder (no matter your height you still gotta do tiptoes bc that man is tall).

soon enough he’d plate the perfect chocolate chip cookies with a dash of sea salt that you spotted, and turn around. it would be your turn to be wrapped in a hug by strong arms, even lifted up a little just to hear your laugh. luca also likes to hear how surprised you get that he can lift you, even though to him you’re weightless.

it wouldn’t be long until you’re begging for a cookie even if he sets you on the counter, stern look as he assures you they’re still cooling off. like hellooo?? who cares?? but he distracts you with soft kisses on your cheeks, leading down to your lips until he pulls away and leaves you wanting more. the mumble from him that, “the cookies are probably cool enough now” has you forgetting your desire for him and replacing it with the golden saucers just waiting for you to demolish them.

hands on his shoulder, you’d firmly push him to the side and hop off the counter. the roll of luca’s eyes would be affectionate and endeared, since you were this excited for his cooking. you were his best customer after all.

your feet would have a mind of their own, floating towards the cookies like a cartoon man levitating towards a pie, lured by the aroma. you start ravaging like a hungry creature. one turns into three as you face your boyfriend, moaning with closed eyes at almost every bite inbetween telling him about what you two did in your dream (he baked you brownies laced with a golden syrup in your dream so you accredit your subconscious to manifesting this).

he would just stand there with a grin, hands on the edge of the sink behind him while leaning on it. usually dreams would be so boring to talk about, but luca swore he could stand there for an eternity just watching you eat his creations and talk about any dream you wanted to share with him.

of course, those cookies would be gone in two days. and in place would be brownies drizzled in a golden syrup that luca took home from work. the surprise would earn him a watery eyed smile, and he’d just shrug and say he had extra time to kill on the evening shift.