#lucas one shot

[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. 

[spirit-meets-the-b0ne]

God I love Dustin Henderson so much man, I know Will is in love with Mike because only a deeply down bad homosexual would be able to say Mike “is the heart” when Dustin is alive and in the party. Dustin is the one constantly mediating in S1 between Mike and Lucas, he’s even insecure of his own newness to the group when he conciliates. Because even though the party are all HIS best friends he is able to rationalize why they might have a hierarchy based on seniority. Mike makes it clear that isn’t the case. It’s partly why Dustin is quicker to accept Eleven and partly why he’s so open to including Max “as the new kid” because that was him once. Dustin’s iconic “she’s our friend and she’s crazy!” Dustin and Lucas having parallel deviations from their code of honor in ST2 and Dustin being (so dramatic ik) literally ready to fall on the sword for his misdoings. Dustin basically involving Steve out of necessity but then cultivating that relationship to make Steve a good friend, Steve who had the shittiest friends in high school and attention for all the wrong reasons. Steve never had a true friend in his life and then some 12 year old basically gave him a crash course. In ST3 when Dustin earnestly challenges Steve’s socially conditioned need to be seen as cool only for Steve to become bffs with a band geek. A band geek who is also a lesbian that Steve would rather be seen as a rizzless hack of a womanizer than out her to anybody, even Dustin. All of Dustin and Steve. Dustin going from calling Steve a douchebag, to Eddie saying the kid worships him and thinks he’s a total badass. Dustin who in ST4 is once again demolishing social norms of high school vs middle school because FUCK, his friend is in middle school! His friend Erica, his comrade Lady Applejack, is a black girl in junior high and he dgaf what anyone thinks about it. ALL OF DUSTIN AND ERICA. Dustin teaching Erica to embrace her inner nerd, to Erica staunchly declaring “I’ve bled with him!” When asked if she knows Dustin. Dustin who is the FIRST person that Max goes to when shit hits the fan in ST4 because god damn dude Dustin is the heart. Dustin’s unwavering support of Eddie even when the evidence is stacked against him, Dustin always believed in Eddie Munson. Dustin is the only one who truly offers Wayne condolences. He is the friend of all friends. Dustin is constantly carrying the party through crisis and discomfort, he’s dedicated, he’s unabashedly caring, and he’s the character that is able to socially move across the board in every direction. I fuckin love this little curly haired drama king because these geeks would be LOST without him!!! If Dustin isn’t the heart; he’s the Central Nervous System, he’s the nucleus, he’s fucking vital to not only the party but every other tertiary character of importance. He’s constantly inspiring and providing direction. He’s a goofball, he’s wise beyond his years, he’s a lover and he’s a fighter, he always has a plan and he always has a bad idea, he’s the voice of reason and the resounding falsetto alarm of things gone wrong, he’s never done anything wrong ever in his life, one time something ate his cat but besides that. He’s my heart of the show damn it!

[drewsephrry]

I-

[lukesvangelista]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍ᵃᶠ¹⁹

in which adam’s deepest regret is loving you too deeply.

warnings; argument between a couple, angry adam, allusion to the events that happened about a month ago

Adam Fantilli had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. The two of you had met in New Hampshire, when Adam had decided to follow Luca to boarding school to play hockey. The two of you had hit it off immediately, meeting in history class his first year there. Within a few months, Adam had asked you to be his girlfriend.

Over sophomore year, he had decide to take some advanced classes, graduating a year early before heading off to Chicago with Luca. You stayed behind in New Hampshire, finishing out your junior and senior year at the academy. Adam ended up playing with the Steel for two seasons, and despite the distance, the two of you remained strong. You'd come visit him over long weekends and holiday breaks, even visiting his family in Nobleton a few times.

Everything was perfect, and continued to be when he signed at Michigan.

You didn't follow him to Michigan, choosing to go to college in Chicago after falling in love with the city. And as much as it sucked, the two of you were used to the distance by then, so it didn't affect much. FaceTimes and phone calls were constant, and some of the boys would even tease Adam about how whipped he was. As much as he tried to ignore it, he couldn't deny it.

He finished the year out at Michigan, declaring for the NHL draft after just one season. You were extremely proud of him - winning the Hobey Baker award as a freshman was no easy feat and he deserved nothing more than to play in the NHL. When he was drafted to Columbus, he finally asked you to follow and move in with him.

So you did. As much as you loved Chicago, you would drop everything for him. Instead of transferring, you talked to your advisor and decided to go virtual for the remainder of your time at college. And as you settled into Adam's apartment in Columbus, everything was perfect.

But now, the apartment was suffocating with tension, the air thick with words unspoken and emotions bubbling too close to the surface. You stood near the kitchen counter, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, trying to shield yourself from the storm that was building between you and Adam. You'd been through a lot together - much more than most couples your age - but tonight, things felt different. It wasn't about the little things you guys usually bantered about, like leaving clothes on the floor or who was supposed to take out the trash. Tonight's argument ran deeper.

You knew he was having a hard time with the start of the season, especially with what had transpired over the past few weeks. The air inside and outside of the locker room was different, and not in a good way. It was understandably taking its toll on Adam. You tried to be there for him, you really did. But he had shut you out, the distance between the two of you increasing even though you were standing right there in front of him. You guys weren't 15 hours away from each other anymore. Hell, you weren't even four hours away from each other anymore. But right now, it sure felt like you were.

"Why do you always have to make things so difficult?" Adam muttered, his back turned to you as he stared out of the window, watching the rain patter against the glass.

You stared at him in utter disbelief, "I make things difficult?" you echoed, your voice a little higher than you intended, "You're the one who's been avoiding me for days! I just want to know what's going on with you, Adam. Why won't you talk to me?"

Adam turned around, his face a mix of frustration and exhaustion, "Because I'm tired, Y/N! I'm tired of always being the one holding everything together. I can't do this all the time!"

Your heart sank at his words, "You think I don't feel the same way? You think it's easy for me?" your voice cracked, and you bit your lip to keep the tears from falling. "I get it, Adam, I do. You're under a lot of pressure with hockey, and I know you're grieving. But that doesn't mean you get to shut me out! All I want is to help you."

His jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists at his sides, "I'm not shutting you out."

"Yes, you are!" you snapped back. "You haven't said more than ten words to me all week unless it's about something trivial!"

"Maybe I don't have the energy to talk about the heavy stuff right now!" Adam's voice rose, echoing through the apartment. His eyes, usually soft when they looked at you, were now filled with a fire that matched your own. "Maybe I just need some space without you always breathing down my neck, waiting for me to fall apart.

You felt like you had been slapped. The weight of his words hit you square in the chest, making it hard to breathe, "So that's what you think of me? That I'm just... waiting for you to mess up?"

Adam groaned, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration, "That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?" your voice was softer now, trembling slightly. You were tired of this, tired of the fight, tired of feeling like the two of you were on the verge of breaking.

Adam looked at you, his expression torn between anger and regret. His chest heaved as he tried to find the right words, but in the heat of the moment, he couldn't stop himself.

"I wish I loved you less!"

The words hung in the air like a weight neither of you could lift. Time seemed to stop, and the silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, your heart shattering into a million pieces as his words echoed in your mind on repeat.

"You... what?" your voice was barely a whisper, but the hurt in it was unmistakable.

Adam's eyes widened, as if he hadn't fully realized what he's said until it was too late, "Y/N/N, I-"

"Don't Y/N/N me," you whispered, your voice dripping with pain as you shook your head, taking a step back from him. "No. Don't you dare. You don't get to take that back."

He tried to reach for you, but you pulled away from him, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean, Adam?" your voice broke, the tears finally spilling over. "Because it sure sounded like you meant every word."

Adam's heart sank as he watched you crumble in front of him. He wished he could take it back, but the damage was done. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your crying, "I'm so sorry."

You wiped at your face with the sleeve of your sweater, but the tears wouldn't stop. "Do you even hear yourself? You just said that you wish you didn't love me as much as you do. What am I supposed to do with that?"

He stepped closer, desperation lacing his voice. "I didn't mean it that way. I just... God, Y/N, I love you so much it hurts sometimes! And when things get hard like this... I don't know how to handle it. I feel like I'm failing you."

Your breath hitched at his words, but you still couldn't look at him. "You don't have to be perfect all the time, Adam. I don't need you to have all the answers. I just need you to be honest with me."

He nodded, his heart aching as he reached out and gently touched your arm. You winced, pulling away slowly. The hurt in his eyes mirrored your own, and he continued, "I am being honest. That's the problem. Loving you is everything to me, but it scares me too. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. That's why I said what I said. I wish it didn't feel so... all-consuming."

You finally looked at him, your eyes red and filled with pain. "You don't get to say you wished you loved me less, Adam. If this is too much for you, then maybe-"

"No," Adam interrupted, panic flashing in his eyes, "Don't say that. Please. I don't want that."

You sighed, shaking your head at his words. "I don't want that either, Adam. That's the last thing I want. But I can't be here right now."

His face twisted in heartbreak, but he let you continue. "I'm going to call Odette and see if I can stay with her and Zach for a bit. Call me when you figure it out."

With that, you left to go to your guys' shared bedroom. Adam whispered your name over and over again in protest, but you ignored him. As much as you wanted to turn around and hug him, you couldn't be around him with that he just said.

You slipped into the shared bedroom, quietly closing the door behind you, your back resting against the cool wood as you took a shaky breath. The silence in the room felt suffocating, and stark contrast to the muffled sounds of Adam moving around in the living room. Everything between the two of you felt frayed, like a thread pulled too tightly, on the verge of snapping. You can’t bear to look at the room you’ve shared for so long — every inch of it filled with memories, good ones, but also the ones that now haunted you.

Your hands trembled as you unlocked your phone and scrolled through your contacts, hovering over Odette's name. You hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on your chest. Should you really leave? Could you even explain what happened to someone else when you barely understood it yourself?

But you needed space - space to think, to breath, to not have Adam's face constantly reminding you of everything you guys were struggling through. So, with a deep, unsteady breath, you tapped Odette's name and listened as the phone rang.

"Hey!" Odette's cheerful voice came through the line after a few rings. The brightness in her tone felt like a stark contrast to the dark cloud hanging over you.

For a second, you almost lost your nerve. How could you drag someone else into this mess? But you forced yourself to speak, your voice barely more than a whisper, "Hey, Odette. I, um... I need to ask you something."

Immediately, her tone shifted. "What's going on?" her voice was gentle now, concerned. "Are you okay?"

You swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in your throat. "I... I was wondering if I could stay with you and Zach for a few days. Just until I figure things out."

There's a pause, a heavy silence that filled the space between the two of you, and you worried for a moment that you've overstepped, that you asked for too much. But Odette finally spoke, her voice soft but firm. "Of course you can, love. But what's going on? Why do you need to leave?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, a tear slipping down your cheek as you wrapped your arms around yourself, curling in on the bed like you could hold yourself together. "It's Adam," you admitted, your voice breaking. "We had this fight... I don't even know how it started, but it just kept spiraling. It feels like everything's been spiraling, and I just... I can't stay here right now. I need space, and I don't know how to get it when he's here, constantly reminding me of what's wrong between us."

Odette's sigh was audible through the phone, and when she spoke again, her voice was laced with empathy, "Oh, Y/N, I am so sorry. I know how much you care about him."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sob that was clawing at your throat. "It's so hard, Odette. It feels like I'm drowning, and I don't even know how to make it stop. I love him so much, it hurts. But I don't know who I am when we're constantly fighting."

"You don't have to explain it all right now," Odette assured you, "Just pack a bag and come over. You're welcome here for as long as you need. I'll be here, and we can talk whenever you're ready, okay?"

You nodded, even though Odette couldn't see you, a fresh wave of tears filling your eyes. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice shaking, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You don't have to do this alone, Y/N," Odette said softly. "We'll figure it out together, okay? Zach and I will be here. Just come over whenever you're ready."

The call ended, and you stared at the phone in your hand, the silence in the room feeling even heavier now. Your eyes drifted to the framed photo on the nightstand - you and Adam, arms wrapped around each other, smiling like you didn't have a care in the world. It felt like a lifetime ago, like you were different people back then. Maybe you were.

With a shaky breath, you rose from the bed and started packing a bag, each item a reminder of the life you're stepping away from, even if just for a little while. Every drawer you opened, every glance at the room you shared, made your heart ache. But you couldn't stay. Not like this.

As you zipped up the bag, you paused for a moment, glancing toward the door. You know Adam is just outside, probably sitting on the couch as he pretended that everything was fine, that the two of you hadn't been drifting apart for weeks. Part of you wanted to go to him, to tell him everything you're feeling, to fix it. But the other part - the part that'd been breaking under the weight of the unresolved tension, the part that Adam said he wishes he loved less, knew that you needed to leave. You needed to find yourself again before you lost everything, including your own sense of who you were.

With one last glance at the room, you grabbed your bag and quietly opened the door, slipping out before the weight of it all pulled you back in. "I'm going, Adam. Call me when you're ready to have a civil conversation."

Adam just stared at you as you left. There seemed to be no reconciling what he had said.

He sat on the couch, his leg bouncing restlessly as the reality of what just happened hit him. He could still hear the hurt in your voice echoing in his head. He'd said things he didn't mean, and the look in your eyes before you walked away... that's something he would never forget.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the knot of panic tightening in his chest. His first instinct was to call Luca, but as he thought more about it, he realized he couldn't do that. Luca was too much like him - impulsive, emotional. He'd tell his younger brother to stand his ground, but Adam knew that this wasn't the time for that. He needed someone who'd be calmer, more rational. Someone who could actually help.

There was only one person he could think of.

Without overthinking it, Adam scrolled through his contacts and tapped on Kent's name. It was late, and for a moment, he wondered if he should even be calling him right now. But the phone rang, and Kent picked up, his voice groggy on the other end.

"Adam? What's up, man? You okay?"

Adam swallowed hard, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He felt like the air in the room was pressing in on him. "I screwed up, Kent. Big time."

Kent was quiet for a second, but Adam could almost hear him sitting up, fully awake now. "What happened?"

Adam took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut like it might make the guilt a little easier to bear. "Y/N and I had this fight. I don't even know how it started, but it just... got worse and worse, and I... god, I said some things I shouldn't have. And now she's talking about leaving. Like, actually packing a bag and going."

He expected Kent to immediately start calming him down, to say something reassuring, but instead, there's just silence on the other end of the line. The longer Kent said nothing, the worse it made him feel.

"You're telling me she's leaving?" Kent finally said, his voice more serious than Adam was used to hearing. "Like, leaving for good?"

"I don't know," Adam admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. "She called Odette to stay with her and Zach for a few days. I didn't mean for it to get this bad, Kent. I didn't think it would ever come to this."

"Well, what'd you say during the fight that could've made her leave?"

Adam paused, not wanting to repeat the words that caused so much damage.

"I said that I wish I loved her less."

Kent exhaled sharply, and when he spoke again, Adam could hear the disappointment and anger laced in his tone, "What made you think that that was ever okay? Adam, man, you fucked up. Big time."

Adam's heart dropped into his stomach, and he leaned against the couch, letting KJ's words hit him full force. He expected it, but hearing it out loud still stung.

"I know," he muttered, running a hand over his face. "But what do I do now? I don't want to lose her."

Kent paused again, clearly thinking through his words carefully before speaking. "If she's walking out like this, and understandably so, may I add, you can't just sit there. You need to do something. Sooner rather than later."

Adam's throat tightened as the weight of Kent's words settled in. He knew that Kent was right. You were not just upset. You were on the edge of something bigger, something that could end everything between you two. And if he didn't act now, he might lose you for good.

"But what if..." Adam trailed off, staring blankly at the floor, his voice barely audible. "What if it's already too late?"

Kent's voice softened, but it was still firm. "It's not too late if you don't let it be. You've got a window, but it's closing fast, dude. You need to talk to her - really talk to her. No more fights, no more letting things spiral, no more saying stupid fucking shit. If you love her as much as you truly do, you have to prove it, Adam. Right now."

Adam nodded, though he knew Kent couldn't see him. He knew what he had to do, but the thought of facing you right now, of admitting how badly he'd messed up, terrified him. The hurt in your eyes was burned into his memory, and the guilt felt like it was choking him. But if KJ's right—and he knew he was—then waiting isn’t an option.

“Thanks, Kent,” Adam said, his voice raw with emotion. “I’ll fix this. I have to.”

“Yeah, you do,” Kent replied, his voice softening again. “Just don’t wait too long, okay? You can’t afford to.”

With that, Adam hung up. His heart raced as he stood up, his feet feeling heavier than they've ever felt as he walked toward the bedroom door. His hand hovered over the doorknob, and for a split second, he wonders if he should give you more time. But Kent's voice echoed in his head - "you can't afford to wait."

His heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn't bring himself to walk inside your room. The weight of your fight, of everything he'd said in the heat of the moment, felt like it was too much to face right now. You had gone to Odette's anyway, and he knew that you needed time.

With a heavy sigh, Adam pulled out his phone and stared at the screen, the blank text message to you glaring up at him. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. He wanted to fix it, but he'd never been great with words when it came to you. Maybe giving you the night, letting you breathe, was the only thing he could do right now.

i'm sorry. i know you need space, and i'm giving it to you. i don't want to make this worse. but when you're ready, i'm here. i'm ready to talk in the morning. i need to fix this. i love you.

He stared at the message, reading it over a dozen times, wondering if it was enough. He didn't want to sound desperate, but he also didn't want you to think he’s not willing to fight for you. With a shaky breath, he hit send.

As the message went through, Adam sat down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. The silence was deafening, and the absence of your presence was suffocating. He couldn't help but wonder if this is what it would feel like if you left for good.

All he could do now was wait for the morning, for you to text him back, for the two of you to finally talk civilly and try to fix the cracks that had been growing between you. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but the thought of losing you was more painful than any fight he'd ever had.

To his surprise, you texted back almost immediately.

i'll meet you at the apartment tomorrow night. don't screw this up, fantilli.

The next day, Adam waited impatiently for you to come back home. He knew you weren't going to be happy to see him, as Kent had repeatedly reminded him at morning practice. He could tell he fucked up badly when Zach glared at him through almost the entire practice, too.

But now, Adam's back was against the window as rain pattered against the glass, his eyes staring firmly at the door, waiting for you to walk through. It was as if you read his mind. Not even a minute later, you walked through the door, hair messy and dressed in a Blue Jackets hoodie.

He smiled softly at you, but you didn't return it. Instead, you took a seat at the kitchen counter, your eyes focusing on him as he slowly made his way over to sit down next to you.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I am so fucking sorry for everything," he started immediately, emotion lacing his voice, "I don't want to break up. I don't want you to go."

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. You didn't want to go either, but the truth of the matter was that he had hurt you. His words had cut through you like a knife, stabbing you right in the heart. It felt like five years had been flushed down the drain.

"Then what do you want? Because I can't keep doing this if you're going to push me away every time things get tough."

Adam took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he finally let down the walls he’d been holding up for so long. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you, Y/N. I just… I’m scared. I don’t know how to balance everything.”

Your face softened slightly, though the hurt was still there. “Then let me help you. We’ve been together for so long, Adam. Don’t shut me out now.”

He stepped forward, pulling you into his arms. You resisted at first, but eventually melted into his embrace, your face buried in his chest. “I’m sorry,” Adam whispered again, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded against him, your arms wrapping around his waist. “I’m scared too, you know,” you admitted quietly. “But I’m here, Adam. I’m not going anywhere. But you cannot do this again. I deserve to be treated better than that."

Adam nodded profusely, "It won't happen again, I promise. Kent drilled that into my head all of last night and today. I fucked up, and I realize that. I love you so, so, so much, Y/N. More than you will ever know."

You nodded, and he rubbed his hand along your back, trying to make sure you were really there in front of him.

"I love you too, Adamo."

For a while, the two of you just stood there, holding onto each other as the rain continued to fall outside. The fight wasn’t over - you still had plenty of things that needed to be talked about - but for now, you were okay. You had each other, and in the end, that was what mattered most.

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie camping.

They do it for the kids. They begged for months and Steve knew the minute they asked the first time he would be going. What he didn’t know was that Eddie would be there.

It’s awkward at first. Sure they saved the world together but after that Eddie was holed up in a hospital and then in a hotel with Wayne until the government money came through. All Steve knew beyond how Eddie acts in a crisis (heroic and stupid) came second hand through the kids.

But Eddie isn’t a bad guy, he’s funny, sweet and ridiculously considerate, going so far as to offer sleeping in his van when they found out they would have to share a tent.

Steve was starting to like Eddie like actually really like him. He looked forward to staying back and talking with him while the kids trudged ahead with sticks poking at shit. Steve’s newfound fascination with Eddie is exactly what gets him in trouble though.

The boys are ahead like usual, towels and backpacks on their shoulders sticks in hand. The plan was to head to the lakefront but instead Steve is so distracted staring at Eddie’s big beautiful brown eyes that he misses a root growing through the path and trips on it rolling his ankle.

The rest of the weekend trip is spent with the kids back at home grumbling. Mike is especially vocal about how Steve ruins everything but Eddie is quick to point out they would have had to leave earlier if Will hadn’t pointed out the thick branch Mike almost whacked his head into. He also stays with Steve.

“Its okay, you must be sick of hospitals by now.” Steve tries to insist.

“Maybe but I also know how scary they are too.” Eddie says turning to look at Steve. “And I also know you stayed with me when I was in one so I wouldn’t be alone while we waited for the others. So consider it repayment.”

“Oh…” Steve blushes, “Who told you that?” He says to his lap.

“A little birdie told me.” Eddie winks. “Doesn’t matter I would have stayed anyway. Its like I said before you’re actually…really cool.”

“Not anymore according to the kids.” Steve sighs.

“Hey. Mike is a bit of an ungrateful shit but all the others worship you Steve. Including Mike even if he tries to act like he doesn’t.”

“Thanks Eddie.”

“Anytime Stevie.”

[fastboatsmojito]

GUESS - Chef Luca x reader one-shot - 18+

| AN; non-physically descript reader, no pronouns used but fem aligned. Based almost solely on “Guess” by Charli xcx, it’ll make sense later, I promise. This is essentially my first anything ever so I’m still trying to figure out my writing style 🙏🏼 enjoy. <3

| Wc: 4.2k

| CWs: Smut BTC, SLOW smut like so much teasing I’m SORRY, fingering, cunnilingus, eventual pnv, Good amount of Sub Luca oops <33 No use of y/n, lingerie??? No condom mention SORRY, Blindfolds, Luca almost crying - in a good way ! The L word, Mention of hand restraint, Kissing, Pet name usage probably; baby, bunny (for Luca), love, sweet boy (also for Luca), etc. Some religious metaphors sorry

“Can we try something?”

Your nerves apparent through your wavering voice and ambiguity.

He’s guiding your eyes back to his with the slow strokes of his thumb sitting on your cheek. Looking down at you with the same adoring eyes he always does.

“What’d you have in mind, love?”

-

You’ve been distracted all day, work beginning and ending in a distant fog. Usually you had no problem indulging in the fast-paced environment, focusing solely on your work and the insistent voice of whoever was running expo for the day.

Today couldn’t have been more different. The work in front of you being drowned out by mental pictures of the man waiting for you at home.

Your mind was full of him. His words. His hands. It was all his fault.

—-

You had woken up that morning to the boyfriend you were still getting used to sleeping next to everyday. It was new but comfortable. You didn’t feel the need to change practically anything about your nightly routine once he moved in.

Luca isn’t a judgmental guy, It’s one of your most adored attributes of his. Which just so happened to include your ‘pajamas’ a term you used rather loosely, draped in a baggy t-shirt and whatever plain comfy underwear called your name that night.

He loved every second of it, and so did you.

You were rushing to get ready as Luca was quietly helping you. His internal clock denying him the pleasure of staying in bed once you were awake. He was grabbing some socks to lay out while you were brushing your teeth, when the question arose.

You leaned your head out of the bathroom door, toothpaste-filled mouth garbling your words. “Sorry?”

“When’d you get this?” Repeated a curious Luca, gleaming at you while gently holding up a forgotten lacy red bra that had been stored at the back of your drawer.

You’d worn it maybe twice, ever. Once trying it on and the other just for yourself, a confidence boosting self-care ritual that had been pushed out of your schedule by work. You couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed or amused.

“I don’t-“

“Baby, your words.”

Christ. You spat the toothpaste from your mouth before speaking again.

“I don’t remember exactly, it’s been a while.”

He put it back softly, as if it’d shatter if he was too quick. Then walked towards you, leaning in the bathroom doorway.

“I didn’t know you owned something so-“

You finished brushing your teeth and interrupted him.

“Slutty?” You giggled, moving past him to get changed.

“Delicate.”

Delicate? He was driving you insane at six in the morning and he’s barely done anything.

The image of his strong, tattooed hands holding something he’d described himself as ‘delicate’ replaying on a loop in your mind. He moved to sit on the bed next to you as your shoes went on.

“You never asked.”

He laughed softly and took your hand in his as you stood up.

“If you’re nice, maybe I’ll put it on for you tonight.” You smiled and put your arms around his neck.

“Aren’t I always?” He replied, pulling you in to place a soft kiss on your temple.

You caught a glimpse of the clock behind him at that and gave him a quick goodbye kiss before rushing out the door.

———

Once you finally reentered your apartment it was well past 11. Fortunately, it was a Friday night so you weren’t worried about having to wake up early the next morning.

You walked in and almost immediately headed to the shower, just after greeting your peacefully lounging boyfriend. You set up a few things and grabbed one of Luca’s hoodies to throw on after and hopped in.

You came back out to him in the kitchen, heating up what he’d made earlier and put up for you. He sat quietly with you while you ate and waited until you were done to ask about your day.

“‘Was fine, Just been a little distracted.” You replied, slinking down more into your seat while you watched him take your plate to the sink.

“Distracted? By anything in particular?”

He always looked annoyingly sweet with soap on his hands. You got up and leaned against the counter in front of him.

“Just you.”

He dried his hands and placed them on your shoulders, lightly massaging away the tension you held. He leaned down to place a light kiss right under your ear.

“You mind telling me what you were really thinking about, my love, or shall I guess?”

You could melt into him. He always had this effect on you, drawing the desperation out of you like oil in water.

“Can we try something?”

Your nerves apparent through your wavering voice and ambiguity.

He’s guiding your eyes back to his with the slow strokes of his thumb sitting on your cheek. Looking down at you with the same adoring eyes he always does.

“What’d you have in mind, love?”

“I’ve just been thinking a lot about this morning and.. I have a few different colored sets like that-“

His warm hands were slowly moving to the hem of the hoodie you adorned, distracting you just as the thought of them alone had done all day.

He stopped, smirking at how easily you leaned into his touch. “Go on.”

“and- well I was just thinking that maybe I could try them on and let you guess the color.” You said, eyes focusing on the broad shoulders you rested your hands on instead of his own.

“Guess the color? Won’t I be-“ You giggled and shook your head, interrupting him.

“That’s the fun part- I want to blindfold you. If you’re into it, anyway.” You said, finally looking up to meet his eyes. A blend of surprise and curiosity painted on his face.

He moved his hands back to your face, holding your head so he could look at you.

“Jesus darling, I’d let you do anything if you keep looking at me like that.”

You grinned at him, “‘s that a yes?”

He moved closer to you, leaning his forehead against your own. So close you were almost kissing. Almost.

“Yes.”

You barely stopped yourself from jumping him, closing the gap to kiss him, raising bumps on your skin as his hands moved to your jaw to kiss you deeper.

You pulled away to take one of his hands and guide him to your bedroom. You lightly pushed him onto the bed and went to the closet to grab one of his ties.

You walked back to the bed, “Get comfortable, you might be here a while.” You punctuated with a kiss to his nose.

“Oh yeah? You tying my hands up too?”

You climbed up to straddle his waist, tie-yielding hands sitting on his chest.

“‘m not that mean.” You paused and thought about it for a second. “Only if I have to.”

His hands are on your hips, waiting for some direction. Your hands are occupied right above the hem of his shirt.

“Can I take this off?”

He’s nodding his head and you’re lifting up for just a moment to pull it over his head and toss it just next to the laundry basket. Close enough.

You didn’t realize you were staring and not saying anything until he spoke again.

“Liking the view, gorgeous?”

You laughed softly at him and rolled your eyes.

You dragged your hands up and down his chest and shoulders, leaning down to leave light kisses everywhere they went. Slowly drawing dreamy sighs and deep breaths out of him.

You stopped when his grip on your waist was getting tighter, you didn’t plan on teasing him forever but you couldn’t help it. He’s always so patient for you.

You could look at him like this forever. He opened his eyes when he noticed you stopped touching him.

You cupped his face in one hand while the other rested on his waist and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“You look so pretty under me like this, sweet boy.”

He groaned and you could tell by the light red brushed over his cheeks and the rather obvious erection under you that he was losing patience quickly.

He said your name like he was asking for something.

“Please, please.”

The hottest man you’d ever seen was under you begging.

You lightly scratched the hair behind his ear and gave him a teasing pout.

“What ‘s it baby, what do you want?”

“You. Please, love, just- just do something or let me touch you.”

Every ounce of admiration and lust in your body prevalent in your eyes and the barely-there movements of your hips against his own.

You grinned down at him and grabbed the tie you left sitting beside him.

“Ready for me to put this on you then?”

He eagerly nodded and you gave him a few kisses before lifting him up a bit and tying it over his eyes. You grabbed one of his hands and gave it a kiss before speaking again.

“Okay baby, I’m gonna explain the rules and change and then we’ll get started. If you want me to stop and take the blindfold off, just let me know. You got it?”

He smiled and nodded his head.

“I need to hear you say it, bunny.”

He stuttered a little at the nickname.

“I- I got it.”

Your hands were lightly tracing over his chest.

“Good. I’m going to put on one of three sets; black, red, or blue. And then I’ll come back over and you can feel the different materials and try to guess which color it is. If you get it wrong, I’ll go change again. When you get it right I’ll take the blindfold off. Sound good?”

“And if I take too long?”

You bit your lip and hummed while you thought for a moment.

“Then I’ll tie your hands up and you’ll have to guess with your tongue.”

His grip on your waist tightened once again.

“‘s that all alright with you?”

“Sounds perfect, love.”

You grinned down at him even though he couldn’t see it. You couldn’t be happier to be with someone so open and communicative.

“I’ll be right back.”

You gave the top of his head a quick kiss before getting up to change, grabbing one of the sets you set aside before your shower.

You decided to go with the blue set. The low lighting making specs of glitter dancing over your figure shimmer. If only Luca could see you now.

You walked back to him, tracing over his arm so you didn’t alarm him before climbing back into his lap.

“Can I touch you now?”

“Go ahead, baby. So sweet.”

You guided his hands to your hips. He took his time, light strokes feeling the soft material that hugged your body like it was made just for you.

He could cry. You smelled so good and it was even stronger now that one of his other senses was out of the way. Not to mention how soft your skin felt. He had to keep reminding himself to focus on trying to guess while getting caught up in the cathedral that was your body.

He moved his hands up over your chest, focusing on rubbing your nipples through the fabric. Then back down again, thumbs right at the hem of your already soaked, blue panties.

You let out a soft sigh at that and let his hands move for just a bit longer before you guided them back to your own, interlocking your fingers.

“Time to guess, Luc’.”

He whined like he was the one being tormented.

“Already? But you sound so pretty.”

You giggled at his praise.

“If you want to keep touching me I need you to guess.”

“Okay okay, I think it’s.. black?”

You smile down at him again, empathy found not in your words but your tone.

“Nope!” You gave him a kiss, letting his tongue slip over yours for just a second before pulling away.

“Changing again. Be right back.”

He hummed and you went to grab the second set, going with the silky black set this time. It was soft but thin, you can’t remember ever having worn it.

The glimpse you caught of yourself in the mirror told you to wear it more often.

You walked up to him, tracing one hand over his toned muscles as you climbed up.

He didn’t bother asking this time, too caught up in the warmth above him. He started at your shoulders, tracing down the silky straps and over your chest. He can’t remember a time he was ever so hard and needy for anyone.

His light, slow, focused movements driving you insane while your noises were doing the same to him.

You got caught up in all of it, the way his hands were moving back to grab your ass, how needy he looked, how you were sure he could feel the wet spot you were leaving right on his lap, all of it. You moved one of your hands up his chest over his neck, thumb lightly grazing over his Adam’s apple.

He was grabbing your hips and leaning up to place kisses on your neck when you stopped him.

“Alright, handsy, time to guess.”

He smirked. He could hear your heartbeat from here, quick pulses from his paused touch. He knew you were losing patience right with him.

“I think this one’s.. blue?”

You groaned. There was only one color left now, thank god. If he didn’t get this one you didn’t know if you’d make it.

“Wrong again, bunny.”

You left him with no kiss this time, trying to keep some semblance of self-control.

You grabbed the last and final set; lacy and red. Your personal favorite and the one that started the fire that’d been burning inside of you all day. The memory of his fingers draped over the soft lace replaying in your mind once again.

You walked back up to him, kissing up his stomach and chest before settling down.

“Okay baby, last set.”

He wasted no time, strong hands moving all over you. He was smirking as he felt the lace, he knew what this was. He didn’t want to stop just yet though, one hand moving up to your waist while the other was moving closer and closer to the wet spot he was teasing out of you.

You were letting out the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard, his fingers dancing just above your clothed clit when you stopped him.

“Luca, baby, I need you to get it right this time,” You leaned down to whisper right in his ear, “guess.”

He was grinning at your eagerness, composure you were keeping earlier now nowhere to be found.

“Red.”

God. You threaded a hand through his hair and brought him up to kiss you, tongues dancing together messily while your hands urgently moved to take the blindfold off of him.

He cupped your face with both of his hands, taking you away from him so he could finally look at you.

“Fuck me, you look beautiful.” His eyes were moving up and down your body and back to your warming face.

You were the one begging now. “Please, Luca, just touch me.”

He kisses you again, pushing a few strands of hair out of your face. “Whatever you want, gorgeous.”

He was moving his kisses down, kissing over your face, right under your ear, your neck, to your collarbones. One hand leaving your head to trail down to your waist, thumb stroking over the fabric on your hip bone.

You were a mess. Slowly grinding over his thigh, after thinking about this practically all day you could cum just like this.

You were leaving open-mouthed kisses over his neck and shoulders when his hand finally moved where you needed it, leaving soft circles on your clothed clit, tracing his fingers up and down over the wet spot.

You were letting out soft moans now, so close to getting what you need.

You moved your hands lower, grasping at his aching dick through his sweats. Fingers tracing at the waistband,

“Can I take these off?”

“Of course.”

You got up for just a second so he could pull them down and off, throwing them to join his earlier discarded shirt.

You sat back over him, gasping as you felt him through his boxers, only thin layers of fabric separating you.

He knew what you wanted and he needed it just as bad, but after only being able to touch you for so long he wanted to taste you more than anything.

He stopped your movements, grabbing your hips and moving you to lay down on the bed so he could be on top of you.

Mouth open, chest quickly rising up and down with your rushed breaths, he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him.

“My god, you’re perfect.”

“Will you please stop staring at me and do something.”

“I’ll take care of you darling, don’t worry.”

He muttered between kisses, hands cupping your breasts, one of your hands moving back to undo the clasps for him, red lace falling away from you to be discarded next.

“Never get tired of seeing you like this.”

He said, mouth moving down to leave little marks that you’d be seeing in the morning all over your chest. Licking down and over your nipples, large, warm hands following right behind each of his movements.

He kissed down your stomach, stopping every now and then wherever he felt he should leave a mark.

He got to the waistband of your lacy red underwear, hands moving back to grab handfuls of your ass while he kissed over your hips and thighs, smirking into your skin when your breathing got heavier as he got closer to where you wanted him.

He kissed once more on your inner thigh before spreading your legs so he was on his knees between them, one of yours on each side of him. His hands moved back to your waistband, thumbs dipping down into the sides.

He pulled you closer to him and left light kisses over your clothed core, groaning at how wet you are.

“This all for me, baby?” He asked, kissing you again, letting his nose catch over your clit.

You whined at his slow pace.

“Guess.”

He let his tongue peek out for a moment to tease a few moans out of you. Then, he pulled your drenched underwear off of you, another piece added to the pile.

He figured you’d both had enough teasing for tonight, quickly laying down and putting your legs over his shoulders to devour you.

He was moaning into you, tongue lapping at you. One of his hands moving up your thigh to draw slow circles on your clit while the other was guiding your hips to grind further into him.

You couldn’t care less about the sounds you were making but you were sure they were there from the muffled praise between your legs.

“Sound so pretty, love. I got you, just keep making those sweet noises for me.”

God was he good with his mouth. One of your hands was holding his while the other was in his hair, lightly pulling when you wanted a moan out of the man ravishing you.

He moved his tongue up to kiss and lick at your clit while his fingers moved to collect the wetness seeping out of you. You moaned out when he suddenly sunk one of his fingers inside of you, curling it upward, slowly moving it in and out as your eyes closed. You let out a deep sigh you’d been holding since this morning as he worked you up to a second one.

“Shit, Luca- so good, so good for me, bunny. Just like that.”

He was moaning into you and grinding his hips into the bed to try and relieve himself. He could definitely cum like this. Just hearing you praise him like that drove him crazy. He’d pray to you if you asked him to.

His thick fingers were speeding up their strokes, tongue lightly sucking your clit into his mouth, making you gasp. The loud sounds of the slick that was dripping onto the bed warming your face.

“Luca, I’m so close baby, don’t stop.”

He let go of your hand to pull you further into him, your warm thighs surrounding his head.

“Cum for me. Please, make a mess all over my fingers.”

You could barely hear him, so focused on how he felt but the vibrations from his pleading into you along with his warm tongue and the fingers repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you was enough to send you over the edge.

“That’s it, darling, I’ve got you. So perfect for me.”

“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Sweetest pussy in the world.”

He worked you through it, slowing down his fingers and taking them out once you were grabbing his wrist, leaving you with a quick soft kiss to your clit before moving back up to his knees.

You let out a breath and opened your eyes to him on his knees in front of you, staring at his drenched fingers. He was just as much a mess as you were if not more, boxers barely containing his hard length, flushed cheeks, still wet nose and mouth.

You couldn’t believe you got to see him like this. Big, strong man being used like a toy and he loved it, begged for it.

You blinked yourself out of your head as he put the fingers that just drew an all-day lingering orgasm out of you and into his mouth.

Jesus Christ.

“Fuck, Luca, come here.”

He sucked his fingers clean and moved towards you, you pulled him in for a kiss as you palmed him through his boxers. He was moaning into your mouth, pleading again

“Please, I need you.”

You kept kissing him, mouths sloppily moving together as you pulled his boxers down, the final piece to the pile. He was trying to kiss you back and failing, breathing and moaning into your mouth instead.

“You want me, bunny?”

“God. Please, please, need it.”

You moved your face into his neck, leaving soft kisses and nibbles there as you finally guided him to your entrance. Grinding against him for a moment to get him nice and lubricated for you.

You moaned into his neck, pushing his head further into your own as you slowly sank down on him. He was big, but you were so worked up from all the teasing and your first orgasm that it was easier to take him.

One of his hands was rubbing at your waist, waiting you for to get comfortable before he started moving while the other was cupping your face, bringing you back to press your foreheads against each other.

Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, too needy to notice, but you did. You waited to move, moving a hand to his face.

“Are you okay, baby, do you want to stop?”

He shook his head quickly and blinked them away,

“No, no I’m okay I just- I love you. ”

You stroked his cheeks with your hands and kissed his nose, then his forehead, and his nose again. He was always so sweet like this, you felt like your heart could burst.

“I love you too.” Another kiss. “So much.”

He leaned down to rest his forehead on your shoulder, slowly starting to move his hips. When you moved your hips with his he started to speed up, whispering praises and promises into your skin, saying your name like a prayer only you could hear.

He knew he’d finish quick after that, moving the hand not supporting himself down to rub soft circles on your still-aching clit.

“Come on baby, cum for me one more time. I’m so close, I want to feel you cum around my dick this time. You got it.”

He whimpered as you clenched down around him, whispering repeated praises into his ear.

“So good for me, so good. Want you to cum for me, bunny.”

“Such a sweet boy.”

He pulled out to cum on your stomach, your warm hand and praises urging him.

He leaned over to the nightstand for some tissues to wipe you off before he laid down on top of you, his face on your chest while you played with his hair.

You gave him a moment, sitting in content silence together before tending to anything else.

“You okay, baby?” You asked, a finger softly tracing over the freckles adorning his nose.

“Im perfect, love.” He kissed your side before moving up to smother your face in them.

He gave one last kiss to your head before getting up to grab a warm towel to clean you off and some glasses of water.

After you were cleaned up and hydrated you grabbed one of Lucas shirts and got up to go to the bathroom. Assessing the marks you’d be seeing for a few days in the mirror as Luca was starting your shower.

“Jesus, look at you.” He said, walking up behind you and placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“All you, baby.”

“Baby? What happened to bunny?” He said, softly laughing and making sure the water temp was just right.

You giggled at that.

“You really like that, don’t you?”

He walked back over to you, moving your hair out of the way to kiss at the marks he left on your neck.

“Guess.” He muttered into your skin, picking you up to get in the shower.

[kevinsdsy]

the trojans social media au (pt. 21): okay time to remind y’all that @problemduetest4life wrote a one shot about shawn & jean which is SO CUTE and this part is inspired by it hehe i actually meant to put it in the archives with the other one shot inspired tweets but i forgot so now it made it to this LMAOOO i meant for the last imessage conversation to be part of the archives too, but i figured why have not everything related to the au in one part so yeah :))

anyways the fiddle imessage was inspired by a tiktok i saw which made me actually laugh out loud lmao

[writings-of-a-demigod]

Wrong Place, Wrong Time - Jim Street (S.W.A.T)

plot: going into labor while visiting Street at work and being stuck due to a lockdown.

character: Jim Street x pregnant! reader + Deacon x reader + Luca x reader

a/n: Someone requested this but I couldn't stop writing so I turned it into a one-shot 😅 sorry I was so excited!

It was a busy day at S.W.A.T HQ but you didn’t know that when you made an appearance to say hi to your husband Jim. You were out with friends for brunch before going home you thought about stopping by to say hi to the team. The first person you saw was David, you smiled at him and he came over to greet you.

“Hi Y/n!” he gave you a hug “How are you doing?” he looked you up and down.

“Hi David. I’m good and you?” You asked.

“Just swamped right now but good.” He answered honestly.

“How’s things with being pregnant?” he looked at your belly.

“Ugh so much harder than I thought.” You pouted “I thought it was going to be easy and fun and I’m like a unicorn but no it wasn’t.”

He gave a short laugh “Well don’t worry any day now the baby is coming and it’s gonna be different.”

“Well you are an expert at that so I should take your word for it.” You both smiled at each other.

Just before you could about your husband, he showed up looking worried.

“Y/n!” he came rushing to your side.

“Hey you” you smiled at him.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright? Is it the baby?” he took hold of your hands and started looking for anything that didn’t look right.

“Easy there tiger” David started and that made Jim look at him “She’s here to make your day better.”

He nodded at him then David excused himself. Jim turned his focus on you and gave you a long hug.

“Okay now I gotta ask you.” You said while hugging him back “Are you okay?”

He gave you one of his cute smiles that showed his dimples “Deacon was right I feel much better now.” He didn’t let you go completely and was still holding to your arms.

You were a little suspicion about that, but you knew his job wasn’t that easy. Tan came running and passed you two “Street we got an update.”

“What’s going on in here?” you said looking around, seeing everyone on edge.

“I’m sorry baby it’s just bad timing. We’re dealing with something right now.” Street said while rubbing your arms trying to keep you calm.

“You go help out I’ll leave and see you at home.” He was hesitated to leave you.

“Go” you encouraged him “I’ll be fine.” You gave him a gentle push.

 He gave you a soft kiss before running after Tan. You hoped they all ended the day on a good note and prayed silently for their safety. As you were making your way to the door you felt pain, but at this point it was normal because it was close to your due day. You were feeling pain all through your pregnancy but each one was different depending on your stage. You stopped to take deep breaths.

“Oh hey are you alright Y/n?” you heard Luca’s voice before seeing him.

He stepped in to help if he could “Are you alright?” he offered you his hand to grab if you needed it and God you did. You took hold and squeezed.

“Here let’s help you sit down on the chair.” You barley made it to the chair

“Should we call Street?” Luca was rubbing your back to ease the pain.

“No.” You said firmly “There’s no need to scare him.”

The pain stopped “Oh the pain stopped” you stood up straight then looked at Luca.

Before Luca was able to reply the alarm noise boomed in the whole building. Everyone looked around then their training took over, the whole building was on lock down. The alarm scared you and you took hold of Luca’s arm.

“What’s happening?” your voice was shaky.

“We’ve been dealing with hackers all day. If I have to take a guess they must be trying to get into our system.”

Just then Jim came running, he was looking for Luca when he saw you.

“I thought you left?” his eyes were wide.

“Sorry I was double sided a little bit.” You gave him a weak smile.

“Come on we’ll let you rest in Hick’s office until we finish dealing with this.”

You both made your way to Hick’s office, and Jim went out of his way to make you feel comfortable as you will be in there for a while.

“All done” he said as he fluffed the last pillow and turned to see you looking at him with heart eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing” you moved closer to him “I just think you’re the best husband, trying to make me feel comfortable here while your team is out there doing their work.”

“isn’t that why you marry me?” he smiled with those cute dimples.

“That and for many other reasons.” You kissed him.

When you parted he saw your eyes widened, you looked down at your legs and his eyes followed yours.

“I think my water broke!” you said panicking.

“I think so too.”

He grabbed your arms to help you sit down on the sofa, Jim was used to stressful situations and situations that made most people panic and freak out. He knew exactly how to be calm and process everything at once, so when your water broke, he was exactly what you needed by your side. He was there for the birth classes with you, he didn’t miss not one class. He read every book he could find about pregnancy and childbirth, he wanted to be ready for the whole thing just in case something happened.

“You remember the breathing exercises?” you nodded “Well it’s time to put them into test, okay?” he told you in a very calming voice.

“Give me a minute baby I’m gonna call someone” he held his phone to his ears.

He was still holding your hand while he talked to someone on the phone.

“Yeah we’re in the Hick’s office……… yeah her water just broke.” You couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation because of the contraction, you pressed on Jim’s hand hard while controlling your breathing. He ended the phone call and got down to your level.

“Hey sweetheart just keep breathing.” He grabbed your other hand and press a kiss to it.

There was a knock on the door and Deacon showed up “Hey guys I thought you might need a hand here.”

Jim and David did everything they could to make you feel at ease, it was the longest 30 minutes of your entire life. But you had your husband with you the whole time, so you kept on focusing on the positive things and not get your mind the on the negative. David was also here and he has four kids and they all healthy so he’s a trained professional on childbirths right now, when you told him that he laughed “Yeah you’re right about that, so there’s no need to be worried as long as I’m here.”

He also called an ambulance that was waiting for you outside as soon as the lockdown was over. The contractions were getting 4 minutes apart by now, the team was working as fast as they could. Thanks to both Luca and Tan they manage to find their target, the people behind all of this. Even thought Jim was slowly getting stressed about his baby being born here in HQ he wants to make sure that both you and the baby were fine, thankfully David was there.

As soon as the lockdown was lifted the EMT got into the building and head straight to you, they manage to get you to the hospital in record time. Your doctor was already waiting for you, you forced them to let Jim in with you they were against it at first until

“Listen to me if you want to baby to get out of me in the smoothest way possible without any risk of me being stubborn then my husband will be in there with me. You got that?”

You were so serious than the nurse was terrified of you so she let him in. The whole team were waiting for any news about what’s happening in there. After 2 hours Jim Street walks in the waiting room with a big smile on his face.

“It’s a girl!” he announced putting both his arms up “And Y/n is fine, she’s resting.”

A round of hugs and congratulations went around the room.

“Hey Deacon Y/n wants to see you first.” Jim told him.

They both walked in and saw you holding your little girl in your arms, you look happy and tired at the same time. Jim took her from your arms and gave her a kiss before handed her to Deacon.

“Wow she’s so beautiful.” He rocked her lightly looking at both of you.

“We wanted you to be the first to meet her.” Jim started.

“Yeah, we thought that she would want to meet her godfather.” You continued.

David’s head turned towards the both of you shocked “Are you sure?”

“Yeah of course, we’re sure!” you both said.

“She wouldn’t be here without all your help today, David.” You smiled at him “So thank you for everything.”  

 He smiled “Well let’s just hope she has her daddy’s looks but mother’s behavior.”

Both you and him laughed while Jim acted like he was offended.

“Say that to the poor nurse her mom threatened on the way to the delivery room.”

[bookshelf-dust]

loving you

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 961

warnings: um, literally none? let me know if i missed something though

a/n: wanted to write something for baby’s birthday. don’t bully me about the age i’m being self-indulgent, okay? but anyways, posting this now so it’ll be up all day on his birthday. also tagging @clovermunson for helping me out with a certain fuzzy fellow. love you guys!!! <3

————

Billy is warm beside you. That’s one of your favorite things about him. 

Even if there are times where you get hot and have to push him off because he’s making you sweat, there are still the times that you get to cuddle up to him when you’re cold. And he’ll tuck you into his side to warm you up. Just like he’s doing now. 

His socked feet are propped up on the coffee table, the rest of him covered by a blanket that the both of you share. His arm is wrapped around your back, fingers spread across your stomach where his hand has slipped underneath the fabric of your shirt. 

Every once in a while he’ll scratch over your belly, dull nails sending chills up your spine. Your hand is tucked underneath his thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth over his leg. 

Billy’s eyes are on the tv, yours glancing back and forth between him and the clock on the wall. 

You’re starting to wonder if you’ll disturb him with your little plan, just based on the way his eyes are starting to flutter shut, the way he’s melting into you. 

But you don’t think he’ll mind. Not really. 

The clock hand moves that little bit and the microwave numbers change, their light leaving a green cast over the kitchen counter. 

12:00 am.

You sit up, twisting some so that you’re facing Billy, and your movement wakes him up a little. 

He straightens, looking at you. He quirks a brow, trying to figure out what you’re up to. It’s always something. 

You reach out to touch his face, and he automatically leans into it. You cup his cheeks with both hands, and then you’re pressing your lips to his. 

Your mouth is warm, and he can both taste and smell the lip balm you’d put on earlier in the night. It’s a sweet kiss, long and heartfelt. 

Billy brings his hand up, holding onto your wrist.  

You’re thinking: I love you, I love you, I love you, and hoping you can somehow transfer the message directly into his brain through the kiss. He kisses you back, knowing exactly what you’re trying to say. Billy hasn’t shaved in a few days and his skin scratches against yours. You don’t care. 

When you pull away, his lashes are fluttering and if it weren’t so dim in the living room you’re sure you’d find a blush spreading across his face. 

“Happy Birthday.” 

Billy smiles at you. When he speaks, his voice is tired, lovesick. “Was that my birthday kiss?”

“Only the first one,” you tell him. 

“Oh, so I get more?”

Billy presses his forehead against yours, still holding onto your wrist. Your hands never leave his face, thumbs sweeping underneath his eyes. 

“You want another?” You ask. The question makes him chuckle. 

“Pretty please.” 

His lips tick up at the corners, enticing you. You press a kiss to both, to his cupid's bow, his chin. He pouts at you. 

“Come on. It’s my birthday,” Billy whines. 

“I really set myself up for this one.” You kiss him. “Should’ve known you’d use that to your advantage.” You kiss him again. 

Billy hums against your cheek where he’s now pressed his own mouth. He knows that makes you go all warm. 

There’s a noise behind you, a subtle added weight to the cushion you've settled on, and you know what it is without having to turn. The mewl makes Billy aware of the presence, and he grins against your face, a slow laugh leaving his throat. 

“I think he wants us to come to bed, B.”

Billy hooks his chin over your shoulder, meeting eyes with a little brown cat. 

You hear the first meow your cat lets out in greeting. The second is almost like a question. Why are you still up?

Billy reaches around you, scratching behind his ears. You can hear his purring. It’s always so loud. 

There’s a clambering, and Billy leans back, allowing for the young cat to squeeze between your body and the couch and up into his lap. 

“Night, Cosmo,” you say. Billy snorts. “What? It’s too late to be evening.”

Cosmo ignores your words, preferring to stare at you, waiting. You scratch his chin and he mewls. It’s not unlike the response Billy might have for getting the same sort of attention.  

“What do you wanna do in the morning, birthday boy? How would you like to celebrate your release from teenagedom? The big 2-0?”

Billy rolls his eyes at you and kisses the palm of your hand, having snatched it from where it was flailing midair. 

“Don’t care,” he says. “We could sit here all day and I wouldn’t give a shit.”

You lean in like you need to whisper, as if you’re not in your own home. “I think Max is gonna come see you. Don’t tell her I told you, but she bought you a sash.”

“No.”

You start to laugh. “Yes. A birthday sash.”

“I’m not wearing that.”

You kiss him again, though you’re laughing and can’t take it seriously. 

“Sure, baby.”

He pecks your lips once, twice. “No, I’m not.”

The polaroid you stick in the frame of your vanity mirror the next evening says otherwise. Billy is sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, though loosely enough that you can see the words “Birthday Princess” in sparkly lettering on a pink sash. 

He’s not looking at the camera, he’s looking at Max, listening to something she’s saying. Lucas is on the floor, back between her knees.

Billy looks so happy, cheeks flushed from all of the attention he’d had, the start of a laugh on his face. 

It’s a pure, candid photo, for a true birthday princess. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[aestheticaltcow]

Lockdowns & Ladyfingers

Chef Luca x Reader blurb

The Bear Masterlist

Covid lockdowns brought an obscene amount of boredom into Luca’s life. His restaurant was shut down indefinitely, and he’d run out of things to stream and books to read. One laundry night, he made his way down to the washers and bumped into you. You’d moved in across the hall before lockdowns had gone into effect. Luca had been the mysterious guy across the hall who’d leave early in the morning and not return until late into the night. You were curious about him and decided to chat with some of the older women in the building to find out more about this enigmatic figure- and maybe even his name….

“Oh, that’s Luca. He’s a good boy.” “He’s a chef- he surprised me with the most delicious lady fingers a few weeks ago.” “You two would be adorable together.” “Dorthy, would Y/N and Luca be adorable together?” “Oh, absolutely. He’s so handsome.” “So helpful.” “He does his laundry on Wednesdays… if you wanted to ‘run into’ him.” “With all these lockdowns, it must be so hard for young people to socialize with one another.” “Y/N, aren’t you across the hall from him?” “You can always ask him for a cup of sugar.” “Or ask him to open a jar. He has all those cute little muscles.” “He’s single…” The older women's admiration for Luca was evident, and it made you feel a sense of validation about your interest in him. 

The older women's admiration for Luca was evident, making you feel validated about your interest in him. 

After listening to a collection of 75-80-year-old women talk about how wonderful Luca was, you needed to figure out how to run into him again. You saw him entering his apartment one day after taking your dog on a quick walk before bed. “Hey, you’re Luca, right?” you asked as he unlocked his door. He looked at you and nodded, “Yeah- you’re Y/N? Right?”

The two of you exchanged hellos in the hallway a few more times before you worked up the courage to walk across the hall and ask to borrow a cup of sugar. He opened the door shirtless in a pair of black joggers. You swallowed softly before remembering why you’d knocked.

“Do you think I could borrow a cup of sugar?”

[lewisvinga]

football masterlist

jude bellingham

vinicius jr

rodrygo goes

aurelien tchouameni

federico valverde

kylian mbappé

trent alexander arnold

neymar jr

richarlison de andrade

lucas paquetá

pablo gavi

pedri

alejandro balde

joão felix

sergio ramos

diego lainez

kevin alvarez

[mya-cookie-eater]

Imagine…

You’re your comfort characters comfort character 

C/c=comfort character 

Warning ⚠️:kinda sad at the end but at first kinda cute I also didn’t reread this so it might be rushed and not make sense mb plus it’s short

A/n: send request for stories like these I like writing them.🙃 pick a specific character tho and I’ll tell you if I can do them or not (please send requests)

After a long day of school/work they come home and lay in bed they grab their pillow and began to speak. “hey y/n I had a good day today I almost got into a fight but I didn’t because I thought of you and how you wouldn’t want me to do that how you would want me to be the bigger person so I talked to them about it and I know you fight sometimes but you wouldn’t want me to risk everything by fighting so yeah how was your day??”  In their mind the pillow came to life forming your face and body into it. “I had a good day just chilled on your bed you know” you looked into the eyes of C/C and grabbed the side of their face. “I’m proud of you I’m so proud of you” you hugged them and then you laid on their chest they hugged back and you started to cuddle they you felt something hot and wet they were crying. “what’s wrong??” You asked and put their face into your hands. “I love you but your not real” their world of happiness collapsing with those words. Your.Not.Real you made them happy you made them better but you weren’t real. 

A/n:Hey I wrote this because I seen dd Osama confront n3on and I was proud of him and I thought of what it would be like if I had his comfort character or if I was any of my other comfort characters comfort character I seen a story similar that’s what this was based on so if you find that send me a link bc I really want to read it again they wrote it better than me 

[httpsdana]

Hi bestiee can I request a fic w Lucad Bergvall “prompt 13” 🫶🏼

Sweet Like Strawberry~Lucas Bergvall

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

13-"I’m your boyfriend, and I demand you kiss me right now.”

y/n was stretched out on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket with a strawberry-scented lip mask glossed over her lips, and a facemask on her face. It was one of those evenings where she could finally relax, and the masks felt like the perfect treat for herself-care night. Lucas had been busy all day, so she assumed he’d be tired and want to unwind, too.

But as soon as he walked into the living room and saw her curled up, his eyes went straight to her lips. He was used to her putting facemasks, but the shining material on her lips caught his attention.

“What’s on your lips?” he asked, dropping onto the couch beside her with a curious smirk.

“It’s a lip mask,” she explained, holding back a grin. “Strawberry-flavored too. It’s supposed to make them soft.”

The second she mentioned “strawberry-flavored,” his interest doubled. “So, can I taste it?”

“No,” she said with a laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly as he leaned in.

“Oh, come on,” he protested, his tone a mix of whiny and playful. “Just one kiss.”

She shook her head. “Lucas, it’s supposed to stay on. If you mess it up, I’ll have to start over!”

But he wasn’t one to be deterred. With a mischievous gleam in his eye, he leaned closer, puckering his lips in a dramatic show. y/n pulled back, covering her mouth with her hand as he tried to press a kiss on her lips.

“Not happening!” she laughed, dodging as he leaned forward again.

He huffed, crossing his arms in mock frustration, but the pout on his face was too cute. “You’re really going to deny me a kiss?” he teased, inching closer as she dodged yet again.

“Yup!” you replied, holding back another laugh. “Gotta let this lip mask work, remember?”

Lucas gave her a look, brows raised in playful disbelief. “Alright, that’s it,” he announced dramatically, his hands reaching to pull her close as he finally dropped the line. “I’m your boyfriend, and I demand you kiss me right now.”

y/n couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of her, his mock-serious tone cracking her up. And before she could dodge again, he managed to plant a quick peck right on her lips, his grin widening as he pulled back, clearly pleased with himself.

“Mmm, it does taste like strawberries,” he murmured, his lips hovering over hers again. Before she could protest, he stole another quick kiss, savoring the taste of the lip mask. He brushed his thumb over her cheek, keeping her close as he pecked her lips over and over.

“Lucas!” she giggled, trying to push him back, though she wasn’t really trying that hard.

“Sorry, it’s too good,” he said, grinning as he snuck another kiss. “Maybe I’ll help you reapply it if I mess it up?”

y/n rolled her eyes, laughing at his persistence. “Yeah, right. You’d just kiss it off again.”

He shrugged, pulling her even closer until she was nestled against his chest. “Guess you’re right,” he admitted softly, pressing his lips to hers once more, this time slower, savoring the kiss. His eyes were warm as he pulled back, a little smile playing on his lips.

She sighed in mock exasperation, finally giving in and letting him wrap his arms around her. “Fine, if you insist on ruining my lip mask, I guess I can let you stay.”

“Perfect,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to the tip of her nose. “That’s all I needed.”

With that, he settled beside her, pulling her into his arms as the two of them melted into a comfortable cuddle, his head resting gently against hers as he sighed contentedly.

[fizzyxcustard]

For Her Or My Country?

Fandom: Spooks

Pairing: Lucas North x OC (Amy Holland)

Warning: Non-graphic smut, insecurity, language

Word count: 3731

Summary: Lucas has been given an assignment which means potentially sleeping with a subject who is linked to a Russian subject of interest. After discussing with Amy, will he put his relationship or duty to country first? 

Notes: As always, if you wish to be added to my Forever Tag list, let me know. Or you can request to be added to a list for a specific character/fandom. Please contact me if you wish to be added or removed.

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. :) Any comment at all.

Read on AO3 here

Masha Petrova. Beautiful. Elegant. Rich. Holder of intelligence that MI5 needed. And Lucas had been assigned to the case. Being able to speak Russian himself and having a vast knowledge of the culture and risks that were posed to the United Kingdom, it was only natural that Lucas be placed on this case. 

The team of Section D were all seated in the main briefing room, watching as photos appeared on the screen, flipping every few seconds. Harry described each one and gave background to all the subjects and contexts of them. 

Lucas was to go undercover in two days’ time, posing as a potential client for Masha Petrova’s prestigious art gallery. She would be hosting an auction, where paintings worth millions of pounds were to be sold, and the money then transferred to her ex-husband, Konstantin Sidorov. But the man had disappeared three years earlier. He was a ghost, with his last movement being on a flight back to Moscow and then nothing. Her motives behind keeping in such close contact with her ex-husband were being questioned. 

“Jo will be on standby,” Harry began. He turned to the bleach blonde woman who sat two seats down from him. Her large blue eyes were locked on him, waiting for her instruction. “We’ll need you to mingle with the men, stroke their egos.” That normally meant sleep with them if necessary. “Lucas, Masha is known to always have a string of attractive men on her arm who wish to warm her bed…” 

That was it. Amy, desk-based intelligence officer, and also Lucas’ girlfriend of ten months, felt bile rise in her throat. She looked at the photo of Masha Petrova and felt that stab of intense self-hatred rise. This was the kind of woman that Lucas should have been with, not her. He deserved beauty and elegance, not someone like Amy who rarely wore make up and dressed constantly in jeans. 

Now Amy knew why she had been kept off the case for as long as she had. With Ruth Evershed on long-term sick leave, the team were bursting at the seams with workload and needed another pair of hands. Amy was the only person available. 

Harry gave both Jo and Lucas a briefing pack, outlining their identities which they would need to learn over the next forty eight hours. 

Lucas looked down the table at Amy and could see the bright red flush of her cheeks, paired with her inability to keep her eyes out of her lap. He could see her hands moving beneath the table, a sign of her fidgeting, which she always did when nervous. Every expression and movement was something that Lucas had become intimately acquainted with. 

Once the meeting had concluded, Harry requested that Lucas stay behind. Everyone else got to their feet, stretching due to the length of time they had all been sitting. Amy dashed out of the room first, being closest to the door. Tears were prickling her eyes. For most of the meeting her imagination had been running wild, churning over a vivid vision of Lucas and Masha Petrova in an erotic position. Amy’s chest tightened, causing her to flap her arms to try and get more air. 

“Are you alright?” Jo asked, approaching Amy. 

Amy smiled weakly at Jo, knowing that it had always been impossible for her to lie about her feelings. She was transparent, unable to mask any negative feelings. She couldn’t answer. 

“I’ll make us a coffee and we can pop outside for some fresh air, yeah?” Jo proposed.

Amy nodded, feeling as if her friend’s kindness was about to open the floodgates and the tears would never stop. But she swallowed hard, feeling the pain in her throat. That damn floodgate would remain closed, even if it killed her. 

Outside a few minutes later and Jo lit a cigarette and the two of them stood on the balcony, which gave them a view of London. It was grey and overcast. The colour of the sky was threatening rain. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jo asked. 

Amy’s green eyes darted this way and that, anywhere so they didn’t have to focus on Jo. “I don’t know,” she said softly. Then she sighed, and looked out over the Thames. “I just….I always knew this was something that would probably come, but I hoped it wouldn’t.” 

“Believe me, Amy, Harry wouldn’t have asked Lucas to do this unless absolutely necessary. He knows the moral dilemma and risks all of us face when we’re asked to go into situations like this.” 

Amy took a sip of her coffee. “Why is it always our morals and lives that we have to sacrifice?” Amy knew all this when taking the position, but now that she was here, facing the prospect of her boyfriend having to essentially cheat on her, it was worse than she could have ever imagined. 

Those words caused tears to slip down Amy’s cheeks, which she rubbed away angrily with the sleeve of her cardigan. “Lucas loves his job so much, and I should have always known that I would never be truly first.” 

“Amy, it’s not that, and you know it isn’t. He loves you. But the world we live and work in is a dark one, so much darker than people on the outside ever realise.”

“I’m still human, Jo, and I think I’m allowed to feel betrayed and heartbroken when my boyfriend has been told to sleep with someone else.” 

Jo watched Amy hang her head in shame and defeat. She knew that Amy had incredibly low self-esteem and had been living in constant shock for the last ten months that Lucas would even be interested in her. But Jo could see the chemistry between her two colleagues; Amy’s kindness towards Lucas, and his ability to make Amy feel seen and heard. Even before their relationship had begun, and Jo knew that they would be a perfect couple, despite Amy always having voiced how little she thought of herself. The two of them may not have looked as though they would date, when considering the way they carried themselves, but their interactions cemented the fact they complimented each other perfectly. 

Back in the office a short while later and Amy took a seat at her desk. She pulled out her drawer and picked out a Mars bar from the multipack. It was the only thing that could distract her from the fact that Lucas was sitting a few feet away from her, watching. She knew that he knew she was feeling emotional turmoil. If she had to look at him then she would break down. 

Tariq’s desk was behind Amy’s and he could see Lucas’ blue gaze studying her. Tariq watched in fascination for a minute and then turned his attention back to making minor amendments to Jo’s briefing pack. For once, he could see that Amy wasn’t smiling at Lucas or gazing at him, but instead keeping her gaze away. In his mind, anyone who didn’t notice Amy’s reactions must have been blind. 

For the next hour and Amy took up her time in a meeting with Ros, discussing the ANPR data results for a subject they had been investigating. At least for now, Amy could put her mind elsewhere. 

Meanwhile, Lucas remained quiet at his desk, feeling Tariq’s gaze burning into the back of his head. It had been common knowledge amongst all of the staff at Section D, that Tariq had a crush on Amy. All except Amy herself. 

Once Amy had emerged from the side room with Ros, Lucas got up and approached her. He stood with his back to everyone else and Amy with her back to the wall, looking down at her, almost shielding her from prying eyes. “Do you want to head out for something to eat?” he asked. Then he pulled his hands from his jeans pocket and picked up her hand, feeling her warm skin against his for a couple of seconds. But he frowned when he saw her look at the floor; he could see her throat quivering. He dropped her hand. 

Amy swallowed hard and looked up at him, feeling the overwhelming emotion wash over her. It was painful, so painful. Her beautiful, perfect Lucas. He was Amy’s everything and for some unknown reason, he also wanted her. 

“Come on,” Lucas whispered, holding his hand out to her to take. 

Amy knew she couldn’t deny him and took his large hand in her small one. 

Together, they walked out of the office, and into the mid-day air. It was drizzling, forming a mist in their hair as they walked the two streets to their usual café. They were both quiet for the duration of their walk, with the hustle and bustle of the busy London streets washing around them. 

Lucas grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and didn’t even have to ask Amy what she wanted. She’d already made up her mind and was on her way to grab a table. “A strawberry smoothie and a cheese and onion toastie, please,” her voice drifted back over her shoulder.  

Lucas sighed and placed their order. Every now and again he would glance towards her, noticing how she still wouldn’t look at him. Instead, she grabbed her sketchbook from her handbag and began to touch up one of her latest drawings. 

Suddenly Amy was taken aback as her sketchbook was pulled away from under her face, just as she rested her pencil tip against the paper. 

Lucas sat down. “Look at me,” he said sharply. 

“Give me my book back.” 

“No, you’ll talk to me. Your drawings can wait.” 

“What do you want me to say, Lucas?” Amy said, her tone low and her words to the point. “If you had to watch me go and sleep with a man as part of an operation, I’m sure you wouldn’t be particularly happy about it.” 

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Lucas hissed. “But this is our job. You know what’s at stake if I don’t do it.” 

“Keeping the country safe and all that crap. Yes, I know,” Amy scoffed. “I’m reminded of that every day. Funny how you’re always paired with the beautiful, elegant women.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Lucas snapped. 

Amy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. 

A young woman with blonde hair tied back into a ponytail came and set Amy’s food down on the table, along with hers and Lucas’ drink. She offered a quick smile, immediately recognising the familiar signs of a lover’s tiff. 

“No food?” Amy asked. 

“Can’t say I’ve got an appetite.” 

“Just fatten me up like a pig, then.” 

Lucas grit his teeth and closed his eyes, clasping his hands together on the table. He knew her defensive attitude all too well when she became overwhelmed by self-consciousness. Passive-aggression and sarcasm tainted her words as she tried to fling painful darts back at him. 

“Not here, please,” Lucas begged. His voice was quiet, full of defeat. 

Amy at least silently acquiesced to his request and slipped back into her seat, nibbling on the edge of her toasted sandwich. She adored the very breath of the man sat in front of her, and she was sure he knew that. But she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, and instead let her gaze trace the crisscross stitch of the red and white tablecloth. 

Lucas sipped his coffee and watched Amy for a few seconds before sighing, resigning his gaze toward the framed quote behind her on the wall. It was some cliché shit that seemed to belong on every mantlepiece in the UK, apart from his and Amy’s. Instead, Amy had a line of Disney character figurines across hers, and the thought of it made a smile emerge on his face. This woman he had committed himself to had no idea how amazing and beautiful she was. Curious. Quirky. The kindest person he had ever met. Unbelievably strong of mind and spirit. Underestimated herself. Broken by the arseholes who had taken advantage of her introverted and generous nature. 

One way or the other, he would repair her. No ifs, buts or maybes. He would repair her. 

***

The flat was dark as Amy stepped back inside. Lucas was required for a further meeting regarding the new operation with Masha Petrova, so wouldn’t be home for a further hour or two yet. 

The isolation enveloped her along with the dark. 

Tears flowed down Amy’s cheeks as she finally allowed the locked floodgates to open. She dropped back into a chair in the dining room and sobbed. Amy would never be good enough for Lucas, always sitting in the shadow of other women. Everything that they were reflected what Amy wasn’t. These women reminded her of the dark shadow of lack which lived in her chest. 

Tension soon began to press down behind Amy’s eyes as she prepared hers and Lucas’ dinner. It felt like a huge weight was crushing Amy from above, pressing her down into the ground as her whole body became weak. 

Cheesy 80’s music played on the radio in the small box kitchen, and not even that could lift Amy out of her prison of darkness. All she could think of was Lucas with Masha Petrova. No doubt he would enjoy it. Of course he would. Being ridden by a blonde supermodel of a woman, with the confidence to fully express her sexuality. 

It had taken Amy a few months to become more confident in bed with Lucas. It wasn’t until they’d been together for six months that Amy could finally make love to him without the light turned off and not feel the need to shrink back at his touch. Now she openly enjoyed his touch, reciprocating it. But those whispers would still creep up on her when they lay together afterwards, telling her how unworthy she was of such a beautiful man’s love. 

Amy loved Lucas with her whole heart, having never felt so drawn to anyone else. Lucas, to her, was incredibly handsome, charming, intelligent, gentle and kind. He was perfection. Even when he woke in the middle of the night, sweating and shouting out, gripped by the horror of his memories of Lushanka, eventually waking her up, it only helped her to love him more. The vulnerability he shared with her helped her move closer to him, bridging the gap which her insecurity had always created. 

The closing of the front door suddenly echoed from down the hall. And Amy heard Lucas’ slow footsteps coming towards the kitchen. She felt her hands begin to shake and a painful lump rise in her throat. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she said.

“Dinner can wait,” Lucas instructed. It wasn’t often that Lucas was demanding, but when it came to digging into Amy’s insecurity and bad moods, it was the only way he could defend himself and fight for her. 

Amy sighed and placed her hands on the edge of the sink and looked out into the murky evening. She could see fog beginning to descend on the world and the brightness of the streetlamps lighting up the rooftops, showing the gleam of an earlier shower. 

Lucas stood beside Amy and curled his arm around her waist, then took her hand in his, kissing it. “The only thing I can say is that I love you, Aim.” 

Amy felt everything crumble and she couldn’t help but break down again, becoming a sobbing mess in his arms. 

Lucas held her tight, his right hand tangled in her hair and his lips kissing her forehead. “I love you more than anything.” That was all he could say, and he meant every single word, the emotion so overwhelming as he uttered them.  

“I should support you, Lucas,” Amy said, sniffing as she pulled from the embrace to look up at him. “I’m so proud of everything you do, but I…”

“I know,” Lucas whispered. “Don’t you think I know? I don’t want to do this.” His eyes were locked on hers, tears swimming in them, making them look even brighter a blue. 

“You’re being paid to sleep with someone. Perk of the job, I guess,” Amy said wryly. 

“Don’t you dare say that,” Lucas hissed. His eyes became alight with frustration, his frown casting a shadow across his brow. “Why do you always have to turn to sarcasm and pettiness when you’re hurt?” 

Amy pulled from Lucas’ grasp and stormed out of the room, casting him an expression of disgust mixed with hurt. Of course he was right; Amy knew it. Sarcasm and pettiness become her defence mechanism when hurt or cornered. 

“What do you want me to say, Aim?” Lucas shouted. “Do you want me to leave my job, get down on my knees?” 

“Just fuck off!” Amy hissed back. “Leave me alone.” 

The room felt as if it were becoming so much smaller as Amy stood facing the wall, sobbing, with breath almost coming in gasps. More than anything, in that moment, she wanted to disappear. 

“You don’t mean that, Aim. You never do,” Lucas said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I know you enough by now. When you tell someone to leave you alone, it means ‘hold me tight’. You want people to get closer when you’re hurting, even though you push them away.” 

Amy felt Lucas’ arms wrap around her middle, and she sighed, feeling that all too familiar wave of arousal spiral down her body and the butterflies swarm in her belly. She couldn’t fight off the way he made her feel. All of the attraction and love was far too strong to keep her away. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. Lucas kissed her cheek, taking in the scent of her. It was strawberries mixed with the faintest hint of her perfume from that morning, Olympea. 

Slowly, Amy turned around and looked up at Lucas, sniffing over her blocked nose. Her eyes were sore and red. “It always comes back to this feeling of me not being good enough.” 

“And that’s what it is, just a feeling. There is no truth whatsoever in it. It’s a dark voice, nothing more. I chose you, Amy. Above everyone else, I choose you.” 

Amy threw her arms around Lucas and they held each other tight, remaining silent. The only sound was the patter of rain against the window, which gradually got louder and heavier. 

Heat spread through Amy as she felt his arms encase her, protecting her from the outside world and everything evil that was in it. 

The two of them kissed, the heat mounting, until Amy’s hands slipped up Lucas’ chest and she began popping the buttons of his shirt. She pushed the fabric aside to see his chest exposed, which was tattooed with William Blake’s Ancient of Days.

“You could have anyone,” Amy began, “absolutely anyone in this world. And yet you choose me.” 

“Why did you choose me?” Lucas whispered. “You don’t see your beauty, and your light. Any man you choose would be blessed beyond anything he could ever imagine, and you don’t see any of that.” His finger brushed a stray hair from her brow, and then the tips of his fingers trailed down her cheek and his thumb brushed her plump lips. “You made me feel again, and I owe you everything.” 

They kissed again and began to remove each other’s clothing, slowly. 

As Lucas stood before Amy in only his underwear, she traced the tattoos on his chest and stomach. “I thought about getting one, to match yours.” 

“Don’t,” Lucas demanded, his tone quiet but stern and saddened. “All they serve is a reminder of the darkness in the world, and I never want to taint you with that. Your skin is perfect as it is, untouched and unblemished.” 

“And I want to share everything with you. The good and the bad.” 

Lucas lowered Amy to the bed, her arms locked around his neck. And they kissed again, hard and hungry for every fibre of each other. 

Amy gasped as Lucas slipped inside her. 

A groan fell off his lips as he felt a wave of that beautiful euphoria. This was where he belonged. It was the only place on this Earth he would ever be safe: inside her, one with her, vulnerable and bare. Gradually he moved, rocking his hips against her as his hand gripped her thigh. 

Amy pulled him in closer, needing him against her, the closest in physical proximity that was possible. “I love you,” she whispered. 

Lucas’ blue gaze locked on hers and he stopped his movement, remaining still. He smiled. It was a content, peaceful smile. The first he had smiled since he was a child. “This is where I belong. It’ll never be anywhere else. I promise.” 

A while later and they both lay on their sides, facing each other. Lucas’ arm was draped idly over Amy’s hip. He was smiling at her again. Innocence, kindness, compassion and love had always shone through Amy’s face and been left on anything she touched, a golden light lingering behind from her fingertips. 

He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her snub nose. 

The happiness in Amy’s face drained and a serious expression rose. “I’m sorry about earlier. I know you need to do this.” A sadness began to wash over her green eyes. Then she forced a smile. 

Lucas never answered, but in his mind, he knew what needed to be done. He moved over her and drew her into another embrace, followed by more love making. 

***

The next morning, Lucas stood at Harry’s office door. His heart was racing in his chest, something that rarely happened when on the job. 

With one last backwards glance to Amy, Lucas knocked on Harry’s door. She looked up from her desk and smiled at him from across the room, those beautiful eyes sparkling so brightly. Lucas knew that he had made the right decision. 

For her or my country? Always for her. 

“Come in!” Harry’s voice came. 

Lucas took a deep breath and slipped inside the office, bracing the inevitable storm.

“Lucas? What can I do for you?” Harry asked, leaning back in his seat. 

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to stand down from tomorrow’s deployment, Harry.” 

***

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[pkmoth]

ohhh my GOD this took so much time but WOOOO BATTLE SPRITES!!!!!!!!!!! HELL YES!!!!!!!!!!! i was Also able to mod them actually In Game which is SO exciting i feel so proud of myself

ANYWAYS UM!!!! heres king lucas hes fine and sane and normal i promise <33333 will yap more about him in the eventual au masterpost once i get this aus loop design drawn :]

party menu | in love and time au tag

[newlynova]

MDNI. you were sent to copenhagen to learn from the best pastry chef. little did you know that he was willing to teach you lessons beyond the realm of baking. 1.1k. cw female masturbation, power imbalance

the sweet aroma of vanilla bean and molasses enveloped you as you tugged the blanket higher upon your body, the warmth and comfort of the soft bed soothing the knots and aches of your muscles.

you had been working nonstop since you're arrival to copenhagen— your working days had consisted of fourteen hours on your feet in the kitchen of your mentor while the rest of your hours were spent nonstop reading and researching various recipes. you had been sent to copenhagen by your boss to learn from his former co-worker and close friend. 

you had been overjoyed, ecstatic even, to learn and work hands-on with such an amazing chef. yet upon your arrival, your excitement had been quickly replaced with dread— not for baking, no. but for the chef himself.

he was closer to you in age than you had expected— a handsome fellow with wavy blonde hair and various tattoos decorating his arms. he was quiet and dedicated yet very assertive in the kitchen. his tone had been dominant and blunt since he began his lessons with you, unable to hold his tongue while providing clear yet merciless feedback on your baking. he never yelled at you, though, refraining from doing so out of respect for your person, an action you rarely saw in your profession.

life after work had not been much better since you had been forced to stay with him— the rate of hotels and local bed n' breakfasts having been far too high for you to able to afford both a flight ticket and hotel arrangement for your trip. luckily, he had offered you his bedroom, allowing some divide between your personal life and his own.

and, as you lay there in your temporary boss's bed that night, your mind began to wander against better judgment. it had been far too long since you had any relief, far too long since you had felt an ounce of euphoria. hours upon hours of working had taken a toll on you, you thought as your hands drifted beneath the fabric of your large pajama shirt, you deserved this.

without another thought, your hands began to tweak your pebbled nipples, tugging and pinching at the sensitive buds as heat pooled at the base of your cunt. you rolled your head to the side, cheek pressed flat into your chef luca's pillow in a poor attempt to muffle your moans. one hand began to drift down, trailing lightly over the length of your stomach before slipping under the covers of your pajama shorts. your mind drifted to the sleeping chef on the other side of the wall.

you thought of his strong and tattooed arms. the sight of his tattoo sleeves had been an object of your desire, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as the idea of tracing the outline of the illustrations with your tongue flashed through your mind. your mind then fixated on his large hands— those long and girthy fingers making your cunt flutter around emptiness. you pondered on how they would feel buried deep into your cunt, if they were as skilled with toying with a woman's pussy as they were crafting orgasm-inducing baked goods.

the light of the bedroom flickered on as your fingers slipped into your wet slit, your walls clenching around your far-too-small index and middle fingers as the bright warm light blinded you. your cheeks grew hot as you made eye contact with chef luca, your mouth dry and muscles stiff. 

at that moment you realized how inappropriate your actions were— here you were stuffing your cunt full at the idea of sleeping with your boss while lying in his bed. you were almost positive that he was going to kick you out at this point. you wouldn't blame him either— you much rather have a pervert sleep on the streets than sleep just a few mere feet away from you.

"i— luca— i can explain." you rushed out, retracting your hand from the depths of your walls not quickly enough. you couldn't help the rush of heat to your cheeks nor the clench of your cunt at the sight of his relaxed posture. wait, relaxed? why was he so relaxed?

"you look like you've seen a ghost, love," luca smirked, the thickness of his british accent ever present. he crossed his arms over his chest, biceps flexing through the thin grey shirt he had donned. with his legs crossed at the ankles and his body leaning against the door frame, he continued to taunt you with a knowing look in his eyes. 

"don't stop on my account, pretty girl," he readjusted the grip on his arms, your eyes shamelessly drifting down to the tent growing in his plaid pajama pants. "i thought i had heard a noise and figured i'd check on you— glad i did now," he stated.

"have i been working you too hard, darling? body too sore and in need of relief that you felt the need to touch yourself," he raised a questioning eyebrow. "in my bed?"

you were too stunned to speak, your mind going blank as you processed the situation. you couldn't help but get wetter at the prospect of your boss finding amusement in your situation.

"pull the blankets down." luca ordered sternly, your hands moving quickly to follow his instructions. your body was performing on autopilot, all sense of self-esteem having gone out the window. "remove your shirt." he then instructed.

the cold air nipped at your chest, your nipples hardening even further under the weight of his gaze and the frosty atmosphere. "what were you thinking about while you touched yourself, hm?" luca questioned as he pushed his body off the door frame. his steps were slow and calculated, the bed dipping beneath his weight as he crawled into the bed space in front of you. "were you imagining this? imagining me walking in— catching you?" he taunted, fingertips brushing over the bare skin of your ankle. 

within the span of a second, luca's fingertips had wrapped around the width of your ankle, tugging your body close to him and pinning you beneath his weight. he had situated his body between your legs, eyes fixed on you like a predator. any words had been lost to you, not that you would be able to find the right words to say anyway. like always, luca had left you speechless.

"tell me, pretty girl," luca's body hovered above you, hands pinned to the bed by either side of your head while he trapped you between his legs. his eyes grazed over your bare chest, drinking in the delectable sight of your breasts rising and falling with each heavy breath. 

"do you want me to teach you another lesson?" he asked, one of his hands shifting to cup the underside of your breast. he squeezed at the plump flesh, expertly kneading at the fat of your breast like it was made of dough.

"yes, chef."