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#chef luca smut
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give me a minute (1/2) | chef luca
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pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: established former relationship, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, discussions of separation and divorce, luca and reader has a son, unresolved sexual tension 👀 notes: this fic has been the bane of my existence for the last couple of months or so. it all started as a simple thought of "ooh it would be fun to have a steamy smut with ex!luca" and then it turns into a whole thing with like proper angst and stuff lol. this will be split into two parts, and i think i need encouragement to finish the second part. so please enjoy this first part and tell me what you think! ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted of my latest fics! ✨
03:49 PM
Everything is fine, you keep telling yourself.
Your soon-to-be ex-husband is flying in from Denmark to finalize the divorce—and even after two years of exhaustive paperwork and mediations and court proceedings, you still don’t know how to feel about this. His visit to New York is meant to be a consolation prize for your six-year-old son Alfie, whose only facetime with his dad lately is through… well, FaceTime. But, given how extraordinarily difficult he’s being—fussing over his breakfast, stalling shower time by a record of 48 minutes, refusing to wear anything you picked out for him… you have an inkling that he might be a little nervous to see his father.
And to make matters worse, it’s raining cats and dogs outside, which delays Luca by two hours now and actively threatens the zoo outing he has planned out for him and Alfie.
So… despite the shitstorm that is happening in your apartment and out, you keep telling yourself that everything is fine.
Because it is. Your home is tidy enough, with all the toys and the mess tucked away in their little cubbies. Your son is dressed up enough; he’s finally put on his pants and shirt, although you missed a button and he won’t let you fix it. The storm is outside, and you’re safely sheltered in. And your relationship with your ex is civil enough, so you feel…
Fine enough.
But the doorman buzzes in, and you can definitely tell the awkwardness in his voice. “Afternoon, Ma’am. I have your husband— I mean, Chef Luca— I mean Mr. Bailey—”
You sigh, not having the energy to let this go on. “Yeah, yeah. Send him up.”
Alfie looks up from his coloring book and practically jumps out of the couch. “My tummy hurts, I’m gonna make a doodie!”
“No running!” You remind him just a second too late, watching him dash over to the bathroom and slamming the door closed. He has a nervous stomach just like you, and as you feel the icky twist in your gut… you can’t help but empathize with his antics today. You would be fucking shit up too, if you only could.
There’s a knock at the door, and you brace yourself as if you’re about to let the storm itself in (although, quite frankly, you probably are). Your hand feels clammy, and you have to wipe it off on your dress before you unlock the door and turn the knob.
“Hey.”
If the storm was a person, you wouldn’t have associated it with the man standing before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With boyish features and dark blond locks like gentle daylight. It feels like a reach to imagine the seven years of your relationship with him was, indeed, an epic fucking hurricane.
Still. 
You can’t help that you miss him.
“Come on in.” You step aside, not really meeting his gaze.
He murmurs a small thanks and apology, a staple combination in Luca’s British vernacular, as he squeezes in through the door with his duffel bag and suitcase.
“I thought you’d dropped these off at your hotel before you came here.”
“I know. I was going to, but…” he puts down his bags close to the jacket closet, like he always does, “But I got held up for ages and traffic was awful and I didn’t want Alfie to wait even longer, so…”
“Right.” You nod absently. “Well. He’s in the bathroom, should be out in a second, so… have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?”
“Um, water’s fine.” He takes his seat on the dining table.
You’re not sure which one is more jarring; the sheer familiarity of this, or the fact that it isn’t anymore. The two of you just hovering in the home you used to share, courteous but distant.
Luca looks around the place, and notices all the differences right away. You kept the glass dining table and two of the chairs, but changed the corner seating into a plush dining bench against the kitchen island. He recognizes Alfie’s favorite stuffed bunny on the couch, although the throw pillows were new. But he takes one look at the wall… and his heart drops.
Gone are any traces of him in the snapshots of your life. The pictures are all of you and Alfie—eating ice cream in the park, grinning and showing his first lost tooth, dressed up on Halloween… He really shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed to find the wedding portrait gone, or the vacation selfie in Italy four years ago. But it hurts quite a bit to find a generic flower portrait replacing the picture of him kissing you on the forehead while Alfie, laying on your chest, merely hours after his birth.
“Yeah, I…” you clear your throat as you hand him the glass of water, “…did some redecorating.”
“It looks good.” He manages a stiff nod, taking a hesitant swig of water.
“You look…” good, you want to say. Because he is. He’s got that tan and the haircut that reminds you of when you first met him years ago. But you can’t say that. So you settle with, “You look well.”
He meets your eyes, really meets your eyes for the first time, and you try to convince yourself the little flutter you feel inside is just your nervous stomach. But he smiles, soft and earnest. “So do you.”
You turn back and open the fridge, welcoming the cold air and how it cools down the burning warmth on your cheeks. Trying not to freak out and decide what you’re getting, so you don’t look like an idiot. Your hand grabs a can of ginger ale, and you sigh in relief.
“How’s Alfie doing in school?”
“He’s doing alright. He’s enjoying his art classes. Math is still a struggle, but Ms. Rashad says his reading is quite advanced for his age.” You relax a little bit into the conversation. The topic of your son resets you a little bit into a somewhat common ground as co-parents. Plain and simple.
“Definitely takes after you. My dyslexic ass could never.”
You smile at that. Small jokes are still there, always a good sign.
“And the, uh…” he lowers his voice, “the anxiety?”
“Comes and goes. He’s been complaining about a stomach ache all day.” You glance towards the bathroom.
He frowns in concern. “Should we go check on him?”
“Sure…” You walk together with Luca following suit, tentatively knocking at the door. “Alfie? Hey bub, how’s your doodie?” It sounds silly, but you find it helps to ask open questions instead of showing your worries outright.
A flush from inside. “There’s no doodie,” he hollers. His voice is murmured from the barrier, and then the running tap water.
You catch the unease in Luca’s features, and you feel a little bad for him. It wouldn’t feel great that your own son is nervous to see you after many months apart. “You wanna come out, then? Your dad’s here.” You try to sound cheerful and upbeat, hoping it’ll hype them both up.
The two-second gap never felt so long. But the door opens, and there he is, standing meekly against the frame. Staring up at you and then at Luca.
Luca’s heart nearly stops as those big doe eyes stare up at him, a spitting image of you. The same softness. The same spark of stubbornness.
The same vulnerable look.
“Hey, bub.”
“Hi.”
“Can I get a hug?”
There’s a brief pause, before he steps forward and throws his arms around his father’s middle. Luca grunts softly, a little surprised by the sheer force Alfie is hugging him, his heart swelling three times over.
“Oh my God, look at you!” He ruffles the boy’s dark hair and kneels down to level with him. His cherubic face is small cupped in his large hand, but not as small as Luca remembered it. “You’re so tall now!”
“Of course. I’m 3 feet and 8 inches tall now. Right, Mommy?” He proudly announces, getting the exact height completely memorized.
“That’s right,” you confirm with a grin. 
Luca gasps, a smile blooming on his face. “What?”
Alfie nods. “I’m gonna be as tall as you.”
“No! Don’t grow up so fast!” He playfully cries out.
“Why?”
“Because I won’t get to do this anymore!” Luca seizes his boy into his arms and sweeps him off of his bunny-socked feet, sending Alfie into a fit of hysterical giggles.
The sight makes you chuckle, but the feeling could bring Luca to happy tears. He’s been gone for so long, he’s afraid he’d forget how it feels to hold his son in his arms again. Or worse, that his son would find his presence alien.
But he’s here now. With you and the son you share. Attacking Alfie in tickles and noisy kisses, and letting the boy climb him like monkey bars. And it calms his anxious heart a bit as he reminds himself, everything’s fine. 
And as things fall back into place, thunder crashes outside, as if sobering all of you back into reality. Alfie shirks into himself, climbing off of his father’s back. You want to reach out for him so badly, but at the same time, not wanting to interrupt his bonding time with his dad.
“It’s okay, bub. It’s just thunderclap,” Luca soothes emphatically over the sudden silence, bringing Alfie back down to his feet. He smooths his son’s hair gently, comfortingly. “I got you, I got you…”
“Do animals even come out in the rain?” Alfie is back to his withdrawn self, mumbling his words and avoiding Luca’s gaze.
“Some animals actually love playing in the rain,” you chime in helpfully.
Luca keeps his tone cheerful and bright. “Yeah, and you can wear your raincoat and your wellies and I’ll even let you jump in puddles—”
“I don’t wanna do that! I wanna stay home!” He whines, voice raising a little.
“It’s your dad’s time—”
“No!”
“Alfie.” Your tone is firmer now, as he struggles out of his father’s arms and runs to his favorite corner of the couch in the living room, holding his stuffed bunny tight. 
But Alfie’s got a point. This is not the kind of rain where you can take a leisurely stroll in. No, this is the kind where you stay huddled inside and hope it doesn’t flood the streets. Luca takes a thoughtful look at Alfie who is sulking and shrinking from the sound of thunder, at the window completely obscured from rain, and then at you… offering an apologetic smile.
So much for quality time with his son. 
Luca’s heart sinks a little. He sighs in defeat. “Maybe we should just wait it out…”
“Are you sure? I mean, you flew 9 hours to see him—“
“And I don’t want him to be pissed at me the whole time we’re hanging out,” he reasons. “Besides, I don’t think any Uber would take our order at this time.”
It makes sense, you think. As much as you want this awkward little broken family dance to end, you know that staying in and waiting it out is the best option. Alfie would feel much more comfortable at home than in whatever hotel Luca is staying in. And maybe it’s your protective side talking, but if he ever gets fussy, you’d prefer to be around to deal with it.
“Alright, fine.”
“Yeah? Is that okay with you?”
You shrug. The truth is a little more complicated, but ultimately you settle with a simple, “yes.”
Alfie takes a quick glance at you and Luca emerging from the hallway (you have your mother’s side eye, Luca always said), before returning to fiddling his stuffed bunny’s ears (your father’s neutral look of disapproval, you would say). Like clockwork, Luca takes the seat next to Alfie, while you take the puffy stool in front of him.
“That wasn’t very nice of you to raise your voice at me and your dad like that. I get that you’re nervous about the weather—a bit startled, too— but still. We don’t raise our voices in this household.”
Alfie looks at you and Luca. “I’m sorry.”
Luca nods in acknowledgement. “I’m sorry for being late, buddy.” He gingerly reaches out to touch the boy’s hand. “You’re right, though. It might be best to stay in for a bit.” He motions at the rain hammering down on the window outside.
“I told you. I wanna stay at home.”
“I know. And we are for now. We can…” Luca scans around for something to do. His eyes fall on the coloring book and the open box of color pencils next to it. Bingo! “We can… color some drawings in that book?”
He pouts, not entirely sold on the idea but not outright refusing it either. 
“Or, hey, I got some new drawings on me. You can color them, too.” Luca takes off his hoodie and shows off the tattoos on his arms.
God, you forgot about the plethora of trashy tattoos adorning his skin. Even worse, you forgot how it highlights the defined curves of his biceps. Focus, for fuck’s sake! You avert your gaze towards the flower portrait on the wall. 
Alfie perks up a little. “This is my old drawing.” His tiny finger pokes at his forearm, on a tattoo of a stick figure climbing up the stairs. “You still have it?”
“Of course. It’s there forever. I’ll always have it.” Luca finds himself choking up at that simple admission. A little token of childhood of his ever-growing love. “Go on, get your crayons.”
Alfie looks at you as if seeking permission, and it makes you want to laugh that he shares the same animated eyebrows as his father. 
“Go ahead, bub,” you usher him off lightly, and as soon as he’s out of sight, nods at your ex. “Good save.”
Luca half-smiles. “Thanks. You should chill out. Read a book, take a nap or something. I got him.”
“What, are you trying to kick me out?”
“No, I just—”
Your smile breaks out. “I’m kidding! Go hang out with Alf. I got a Zoom meeting in a few minutes anyway.”
He sighs in relief, chuckling lightly. “You almost got me there…”
You briefly pat his shoulder and for an even briefer moment, his hand is atop yours. The big ‘A’ tattoo on the back of his hand—your son’s initial in a bold Gothic letter— serves as a reminder of what’s past; a whirlwind romance, the wild days of being a family of a merry band of misfits…
Misfits. That’s the biggest takeaway here, you suppose. Your pieces don’t quite fit right. Not without little Alfie gluing you together. 
With a final squeeze on Luca’s shoulder, you make your way to your bedroom, making space for Luca’s puzzle pieces to fit with Alfie’s because they don’t fit yours anymore.
***
05:04 PM
By the time your Zoom meeting ends, the pelting rain outside is louder and the chatter inside is nearly inaudible. It feels nice for about ten seconds… until you remember that you have a six-year-old at home and long bouts of silence can be quite… well, suspicious. You pad out into the hallway to check on him.
“Let’s see. You wanna do the sunflower next? What do you think, my love?”
Oh right. For a moment, you forgot that the thirty-year-old other parent is here with him.
Luca has his t-shirt sleeves hiked all the way up, biceps in full display as Alfie colors in a tattoo on the back part of his upper arm. The boy’s tongue sticks out and his eyebrows furrow in focus. It seems like a delicate operation between them, so you linger out of sight for just a while longer.
“Why do you like sunflowers, Dad?”
The two of you have always supported his inquisitive mind, and he missed these kinds of questions most of all. Even if the answers can be a little complicated. “Because of your mum, actually.”
“You like it because Mommy likes it?” Alfie’s little nose crinkles.
Luca chuckles in amusement, sensing the judgment in his son’s tone. Damn you guys for teaching Alfie not to get carried away by trends. “Well… when your mum and I first met, it was winter in Chicago and it’s pretty bleak and gloomy and freezing. But, your mum had a little sunflower by the window—just like that one.” He glances at the little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “She said it’s a reminder to let the sun shine in. I thought it was adorable. We started doing that everywhere we lived and… I don’t know, it reminds me of home.”
“Do you have a sunflower by your window, Dad?”
His heart catches as he realizes the answer. “No, I don’t…”
“Why? You don’t miss home?”
There’s a sharp pang of hurt in hearing that innocent query. The apartment in Copenhagen, as nice as it is, has never been much of a home for Luca. He would get up before the sun is up and return from work late at night—lather, rinse and repeat. On his days off, he would either go on a morning run and spend much of his time outside, or sleep til noon and live on instant ramen and takeout. There’s no time for a sunflower by the window. No room. He made sure of that.
He doesn’t deserve one after leaving his wife and son for fucking Noma. 
Luca swallows back the lump in his throat, although the slight waver in his voice gives him away. “I got my sunflower right here, bub. My little piece of home.” He taps on his arm softly as his son finishes up. 
Alfie hums, pleased with how the tattoo looks, now filled in with yellow and black and brown crayons. “I think this is my favorite one.”
“Yeah? Not the tabasco?” Luca grins, looking down at his forearm—specifically at the mostly accurate red and green of the hot sauce bottle.
“No…” Alfie taps his chin with his finger thoughtfully. “This one is prettier.”
Luca maneuvers around to look at the sunflower tattoo a little better. “You’re right, it is much prettier. Maybe I should get the colors in permanently, huh?”
The boy’s face lights up. “Can you?”
“Yeah. I think I will. Nice job, my little tattoo artist.” Luca pulls him into a bear hug and kisses the top of Alfie’s head. 
You can’t help but chuckle, glad to see them bonding again, lost in your thoughts for a moment.
“Mommy! Dad says I can be a tattoo artist!” Alfie snaps you out of your reverie.
“Is that right?” Your eyebrows shoot up, struggling to maintain a neutral expression while staring at Luca like with all due respect, what the fuck?
He raises his hands in surrender. “I just said he’s my little tattoo artist, that’s all.”
“I colored in all of Dad’s tattoos! Look!” Alfie tugs at his dad’s arm, beaming as he shows off his work.
You step forward, studying the results of the tattoo makeover. Every single tattoo is colored in; some accurately, like the sunflower and tabasco, while others (like the purple fish and chips and blue scotch bonnet)… not so much. You don’t know which one’s more amusing; your son’s artistic style, or your ex’s bashful look as he models the art works on his arms. 
“Looks great, bub. Well done!” You ruffle Alfie’s hair, enjoying his improved mood.
“Can I watch Bluey now?”
You purse your lips comically. “I don’t know, bub. Why don’t you look at your checklist on the fridge and see if you can?”
Alfie bounds past you, towards the fridge, and reads the checklist out loud to himself. “Have you… brushed your teeth? Yes. Brushed your hair? Yes…” He flattens his wavy locks with the palm of his hand, continues reading with a lower murmur. “Mommy, I did everything except tidy up my room and play outside for 30 minutes!”
“Okay. Obviously we can’t play outside, so… why don’t you just go clean your room and I’ll let you watch Bluey for a bit?”
Alfie gamely nods and goes into his bedroom, his bunny socks muting his footsteps against the hardwood floor.
Meanwhile, it takes you an extra beat to realize how close you’re standing with Luca without your child between you. He rolls down the sleeves of his black t-shirt sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. 
“Your meeting went okay?”
“It’s alright.” You look at literally anything but the man in front of you, ultimately stopping at your potted sunflower by the windowsill. “That storm out there, on the other hand…”
“Yeah…”
You take an inconspicuous look at the hallway, making sure your son is out of earshot. “Weather reports say it might last a few more hours.”
Luca huffs, trying not to stress out about the possibility of street floods. Of all the things he missed, New York thunderstorms are not one of them. Still, this shitty weather has granted him some time with his son, at his former home… with his former spouse. And God, does he miss this more than he dreads the weather…
“Want me to make you guys dinner?” He offers earnestly.
You pull back, returning to your normal volume. “Oh. No, you don’t have to—”
“I don’t mind. Really. Might as well, right?”
You hear heavy footsteps from the bedroom and Alfie hollers from the hallway. “I’m all done!”
“Don’t forget your crayons!”
Alfie promptly makes a beeline towards his leftover mess. “Heard, Mommy.” He hurriedly puts his crayons back in the box and rushes into his room to put it away. Returning mere moments later with a newfound spring in his steps. “I’m done for real! Now can I please watch Bluey now?”
“I can cook while he gets his screen time.”
The two boys look at you with their best puppy eyes, and it’s the most disarming thing you’ve seen in a while—and the resemblance between them only makes things worse. You playfully roll your eyes in relent. “Alright, alright. Go ahead. Watch your TV and make your dinner.”
There’s a quiet little yesss from Alfie as Luca low-fives him before they scatter, one to the living room and the other to the kitchen. For a moment, you feel like you were transported back in time. For the first time in over two years, you’re caught between cartoon sounds from the TV and the kitchen alive again. All was well in the household. 
“Is he still a picky eater?” Luca mouths the last two words inaudibly.
You raise your eyebrows in confirmation. “All he wants to eat is chicken nuggies.”
“I can do chicken nuggies,” he shrugs easily, rummaging through the freezer and takes out a pack of chicken breasts. “Or some version of that.”
Upon overhearing the key word, Alfie’s head all but whips toward Luca. “We’re having chicken nuggies for dinner?”
“Er, kind of.”
“Can I help?” He perks up from the back of the couch, excitement bubbling over.
Luca smiles apologetically. “Maybe later, my love. Daddy’s gonna be using a big knife…” he says as he checks the blade closely, swiping it with his thumb. “…which is dull, by the way. When was the last time you sharpened this?”
“I… have no idea.” You frown. You don’t even remember sharpening any knives… ever. Meanwhile, Luca simply rummages through the kitchen drawer, which makes you ask, “What are you doing?”
“I’m sharpening it,” he states matter-of-factly, already setting up a makeshift sharpening station which… what?
“Didn’t even know we had that,” you murmur plainly as you watch him work. Taking out a block of whetstone from the drawer (where did that even come from?) and running it under the sink. Laying out a kitchen rag and the stone on top of it.
He chuckles a little, scraping the blade against the stone at an angle, firmly but carefully. “Can’t leave you good Santoku knives without the proper sharpening tools, right?”
“You never taught me how to do it, though.”
“Yes, I have.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“What are you talking about? Back in Chicago, I—”
You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that was one time forever ago! And you never let me sharpen the knives. You literally always do it.”
He pauses, grinning bashfully. “Fair…”
For the umpteenth time that day, Luca’s heart catches—this time from hearing you laugh. Your warm voice rings so pleasantly in his ears, and the way your face lights up… he almost forgets there’s a storm outside, because he’s got a lovely summer day right here in front of him.
And honestly, what is beautiful sunny Copenhagen compared to this warmth of the two people he loves the most?
“Alright, alright. You want a refresher? Come here.”
You gingerly take the place next to him, arms crossed so as to not invade his space. Neither of you say anything when your shoulders brush against each other. It’s brief, painstakingly so, but eerily familiar. You wouldn’t admit that you want to stay pressed against him a little longer, but… you do.
“Okay, so. You see this bit right here?” His finger runs up the line where the blade flattens into the edge. “Rest the knife on the stone on this angle, start from the heel—near the handle— and just… bring it in,” he demonstrates the inward sliding motion—short and precise and repetitive, “and work your way up to the tip.”
You silently watch him work for a moment, handling the knife. Firm and steady, but not harsh. On the contrary, it’s almost… delicate. You’ve seen many chefs work in your lifetime, but no one is as composed or stoic (or handsome, but that is beside the point) as Luca. It’s quite fascinating. 
“And you do this on both sides, right?” You vaguely recall.
“Good memory.” He nods appreciatively. “Some people like to do each side one at a time, back and forth, but I like to do one side, get that burr forming…”
“What’s a burr, sir?”
Luca chuckles at your little Hamilton reference. “So when you work on this side, you’ll feel a nice little rough bit forming on the other side like this.” He slides his thumb from the knife’s spine to the edge and carefully guides your hand through the motion. “Feel that?“
Yes. That should be an easy enough answer, because yes, you do feel the rough edge of the excess metal on the blade. But it’s a bit hard to focus on that when you’re more fixated on the rough calluses of his fingertips instead…
In theory, playing a knife with your almost ex-husband is as bad as a bad idea can get. In practice, though… Having your hand in his again, feeling him so close to you, smelling his perfume…
“That’s the burr. Once you get it on one side, you can switch over to the other side and balance it out.” His voice is lower now. Softer. “And you just… do it over and over again until you’ve worked off the burr and have a smooth and sharp blade.”
Luca switches the knife to your other hand and stands behind you, hoping to God you can’t feel his pounding heart as his chest presses against your back. Gently guiding you through the sharpening motion—the firm, steady, angled scraping of the blade towards you. You swear to God, every pull brings him just a tad closer.
“So you basically have to break the knife a little to fix it?” 
“That’s basically it, yeah.”
The storm feels miles away. His hands are still curled against yours. His chest flush against your back. His body heat emanates from within him and shrouds you like your favorite cardigan.
“Listen, I—”
“Thanks… for the refresher.” And with that, you put the knife down on the kitchen rag and pull away.
It takes him an extra second to snap out of it and step back to make way for you as you retreat back into your bedroom. “Yeah, yeah. No problem.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck your fucking life to hell.
***
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nolita-fairytale · 9 months
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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter ten
summary: you and luca spend the first weekend of september on holiday in skagen, and luca reflects on the impact your relationship has had on him.
warnings: smut (18+ only) fluff, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.
word count: 3.3k
listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist
a/n: a shorter, smutty, yet pivotal little chapter to get us through the week, friends. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.
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part nine | masterlist | part eleven
As the season begins to turn, Luca remains a constant in your life. It’s not like you expected anything to change about it. The relationship has been good – like, really good – and yet you somehow still find yourself surprised that he’s so easily woven himself into your life. 
It takes you a few weeks to pull it all together: the time off, a trip, accommodations, like where you’ll stay. Change is in the air – a reminder of how far you’ve come – that a romance that started in the summer has flown so effortlessly into the beginning of Fall that it’s almost gone unnoticed. 
You’ve been looking forward to the first week of September for almost all of August, eager to go on your first holiday with Luca. After suggesting the idea, you got right to work, pulling off some fancy footwork to get coverage between everyone else’s end of summer holidays, and now that it’s here? 
What’s another five-ish hours in the car?
You can’t wait to get to Skagen, and at the same time, you want to savor every single moment of this, as you listen to Luca sing softly along to Elton John while he drives. It’s in the way the sunlight hits his golden locks so perfectly, the way the soft low hum of his voice reaches your ears with such a gentleness, the way his fingers fit so perfectly entwined with yours. 
And five hours later, you arrive at your airbnb, a rented cabin designed for romantic getaways in mind, not too far from Grenen Beach. You and Luca take your time unloading the car, hauling your bags from the car port and into your home for the next few days. While you’re not in a hurry, Luca, for the first time all day, seems a little impatient, hasty to get the car unloaded as soon as possible. 
You don’t blame him. He has done all the driving. 
As part of the agreement you made, he proposed to do the drive on the way there (since he’s lived in Denmark for longer) if you did drive home. 
“What do you want to do first?” you ask curiously, wrapping your arms around his neck as Luca sets down the last of what was in the car. 
“Well, after five hours in the car with you, my love,” he begins with a sigh, as he melts into your touch. “I’ve only got one thing on mind.”
“Oh yeah?” you smirk, picking up on his more-than-suggestive tone.
“Yeah,” he grunts, hoisting you up off of the floor so that it’s all too easy to wrap your legs around his waist. You laugh, squealing as he does, ghosting your lips teasingly over his as Luca murmurs, “I can’t wait to get you naked, my love.”
And of course, you let him, giving him exactly what he wants as you strip your clothes off, letting him chase you upstairs and into the lofted bedroom. The hour spent in an unfamiliar bed making love to the man that makes your stomach flip, leaves you breathless, boneless, and bewildered that he’s yours. 
It’s not until he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, that your eyes begin to flutter open, snapped shut in response to the way he made you come. You begin to come back down to earth, the reality that you have consecutive days of this to look forward to. 
“You’re amazing,” Luca murmurs against your skin, watching your body react to the way his fingers drag across your skin in soothing patterns. 
“I could say the same thing about you. I think I lost my mind for a second there,” you sigh, letting out a satisfied chuckle because you’re only half-joking. 
He grins, letting out a small laugh as he shakes his head in pure disbelief that you’re here and that you’re his. 
You swear you’ve got stars in your eyes as you look at him, as you open your mouth to ask:
“So… what do you want to do next?” 
-------------------------------
You had been antsy to get out to the beach, and who was Luca to deny you that? 
Right before dinner, you’d discussed. 
That’s when you’d go. 
Luca watches as you play around with your film camera, the sleeves of your Northwestern University sweatshirt pushed up to your elbows as you mutter something about how perfectly the textures of the beach will work for what you’ve been playing around with: double exposure. With wet sand pushed between your toes, you direct your camera lens from the waves of the ocean over to Luca. 
As soon as you catch him staring, a half smile spreads across his face as his eyes land on you, and with a click of the button, you’ve taken the photo. 
“Watcha thinkin’ about, babe?” you ask curiously, looking up from behind your small film camera. 
He shakes his head, the smile becoming bigger as he answers, “You.”
Luca’s heart pounds in his chest as he watches the wind whip through your hair, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filling his ears as you smile back at him. Your eyes are filled with such love, such adoration, that he almost says it – almost blurts it out – the three words that have been weighing so heavily on his shoulders as of late. 
Lost in a shared look of love, the feeling of the wild waves slapping against the cuffed hem of your jeans hits you, startling you as it soaks the denim material. 
“Holy shit!” you shriek, taking a few steps back. As you run away from the wild and out of hand crash of the waves, Luca leads you into the other direction, realizing that you’re being chased by the ocean. 
You giggle, because it feels playful, joyous, free, and as you jump a few feet, using the momentum of your running pace, Luca is there to catch you. Like earlier before, but under different circumstances, you wrap your arms and legs around him again, holding onto your film camera for dear life. 
“You got me,” you grin, your voice soft as he holds you in his arms. 
“Yeah,” he replies, certain as the word leaves his lips. 
“It’s good to be gotten,” you say, knowing that the double meaning isn’t lost on either of you. 
-------------------------------
You spend your mornings waking up slowly, exchanging lazy kisses and soft touches, whispering promises to each other of ‘five more minutes’ that are more like thirty (but who’s counting, really?). 
Your days are bright and sunny, spent exploring with Luca as you search for adventures: trips to the museum, walks along the beach, exploring the little downtown area. 
And tonight, on your last night, you don’t want to leave.
Yes, you love the life you built for yourself in Copenhagen, and yes, of course, it’s not too far from what you and Luca do in your spare time when you’re home. 
But there’s something different about the quiet beach town that’s left you devoid of any distraction. It’s just you and him and the love that grows between the two of you. It’s undeniable, unignorable, its sound like a siren in every silence, an alarm clock that wakes you in the middle of the night, shaking you to your very core.
It’s also a kind and a safe love – something you never knew could still feel this enormous, this all-consuming too. 
Luca moves his lips over your jawline, nipping at the skin as his tattooed hands wander, sliding underneath your sweatshirt. You’re more than eager to help, slipping the knit material right over your head before you’re pulling him back down to you, your lips drawn to his like magnets. 
He hadn’t bothered to put a shirt back on after your shower together, and it hadn’t taken long for you to push his sweatpants over his hips, knowing very well the effect his shirtless showboating had on you. It’s no surprise that you’ve found yourself here, underneath his body, gasping as heat pools between your legs. 
Luca’s more than happy to discover that you’re not wearing a bra, groaning into the kiss, as he stacks his body on top of yours. Your legs wrap around his waist with practiced ease and you're left only in your panties. 
You arch your back as his mouth continues its journey south, his blue eyes stealing a glance up at you as he takes one of your erect nipples into his mouth, earning a gasp that escapes your lips. You can feel him smile against your skin as you sigh his name, your body shifting underneath his. 
“Luca,” you repeat, completely at his will as you let him consume you. 
He gives equal attention to both breasts before leaving hot, open mouthed kisses down your belly. His hand with the ‘A’ tattoo slides into your panties, dragging two fingers through your slick. 
“You’re so wet for me, love,” he coos, pressing his index and middle finger just enough into you before withdrawing them, teasingly. “Always so wet for me.”
“Yes,” you gasp, as you feel Luca’s steady hands dragging your panties down your legs, your wetness leaving a trail down your inner thighs. 
You’re eager to kick off your panties, and as Luca tosses them behind you, his hands are back on you in an instant, smoothing up your legs and pushing them open so that he can fit between them. Your eyes flutter closed as he uses his skilled tongue to lick a broad stripe up your hot, wet heat. You cry out, bucking your hips up into his mouth as he eats you out. It’s like he’s memorized every single thing you’ve ever liked, every single thing that’s ever made you scream, that’s pushed you to pull at his hair while you came on his tongue, and created a cheat sheet of how to get you to your orgasm fastest. 
“Baby,” you pant, your hands tangled in his hair as he drags his tongue over our clit, tracing tight circles over it as your body twists itself underneath his mouth. “Fuck, you’re so good at this. You’re-, OH!”
You shout in pleasure as he slides his fingers in and out of you, and Luca has to admit that he loves the way you feel squeezing around him. He’s rock hard, the sounds of your moans, of your cries, of his name on your lips, unbearably beautiful. He ruts his hips into the bed as he can feel you getting close. 
He knows. 
He knows exactly when you need two fingers instead of one. That when your voice raises in pitch, it means he’s found the exact right spot. That when a string of curses leaves your mouth because it’s all too much and not enough at the same time and that if he keeps going, you’re sure to explode, topple over whatever mountain you’re climbing, ready to fall off and fall with him. 
“Luca, fuck, I’m coming, god, baby, don’t stop, fuck, it’s so good, you’re so fucking good,” you chant, lost in the pleasure he brings you.
You’re not sure that the string of words are even English anymore as they tumble out of your mouth. Luca takes you higher, then higher, the crest of pleasure peaking and crashing around you, as you cum on his tongue. 
Luca takes his time, cleaning you up with his tongue before making his way up your naked body, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. He kisses you with a passion, a fervor, a desperateness that tells you he needs you just as much as you need him. 
“You are so beautiful,” he says against your lips. “When you cum like that.” Another kiss. “So out of control.” You reach up to catch his mouth once again. “So lost in how you feel.” His tongue slides against yours this time as he manages to complete his sentence this go round. 
“And all for me.” 
And with that you’re rolling him onto his back, your mouth trailing over his neck, his shoulders, his chest, and then the hard planes of his abdomen as you make your way down to the top of his briefs. You drag the waistband of his briefs down, up and over his hard on, tossing them somewhere on the floor after you finally get them off. 
Your eyes meet his, catching his gaze as you look up at him, your tongue snaking out just over the head of his cock. Luca hisses, his hands propped up behind his head so that he can watch you as you take him into your mouth. 
“My god, babe,” he groans, as you suck on the tip, sliding your mouth down a little further this time. 
“Fuck.”
You take your time using your mouth and saliva to get him ready for you, bringing your hand up and around his shaft for what can’t fit in your mouth. You use your hand and your mouth to take him, setting a pace that Luca really seems to like. 
You can hear it in the way he moans, the way he seems to be holding back, trying his best not to thrust his hips into your mouth, in the way that he gathers your hair in his hands, moving it all to one side so that he can watch you take him. 
It’s not until you feel him tug at your hair, his hands used as a makeshift ponytail holder, that you lift your head to look at him. 
“Get up here,” he rasps, and you’re more than happy to oblige. 
Your mouth is on his instantly, swallowing his moans as you continue to stroke him in the palm of your hand. 
“How do you want me?” you ask him, your voice low and desperate with need. 
Instead of answering, he flips you over so that he’s on top again. You part your legs so that he can fit between them, and you feel him jerk your body down towards him, causing a small laugh to escape your lips. The laugh turns into a moan as Luca presses his thick tip at your entrance, pushing in. You both gasp, sharing a look, a moan, a breath as he stretches you open. 
It doesn’t matter how many times you take him, you swear. You’re:
“Always so tight, fuck,” Luca murmurs, sighing out your name as he buries himself in to the hilt. 
He pauses for a moment, his mind short-circuiting as he feels the way your walls pulse around him. 
With each slow drag of his cock, you keen, feeling every single inch of him as he takes his time teasing you. Without setting any kind of pace, Luca lays one of your legs over his shoulder as he sits tall, grinding against you in a way that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. 
He watches as he grinds himself into you, his gaze fixed to where you’re connected, unable to tear his eyes away from how you take him. 
“So deep,” you mumble, lost in the way he feels inside of you. “You’re so deep.”
Luca begins thrusting his hips this time a little faster, earning another keening sound that escapes your mouth. And soon enough he’s folding his body over yours, testing your limits of flexibility as he keeps your leg bent over his shoulder, your thigh pressed towards your chest as he pounds away inside of you. 
You can tell that he likes it – what you’ve said so far – so you decide to continue as he fucks you. 
“I love it when you’re this deep. Inside of me,” you pant through each thrust, sure you’re so close to cumming again. “Stretching me.” Another moan. “Filling me.”
Luca can’t help himself. He pauses, wrapping both of your legs around his waist this time as he chases that high pitched gasp he knows means you’re about to come. 
“You fill me so well,” you gasp, your voice getting higher as you squeeze around him, your walls contracting, building a tension that means you’re on the cusp of release. “Feels so good.”
“Luca, I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop,” you beg him, as you hold onto his biceps. 
And he wouldn’t dare. 
With a few more deep thrusts, you’re cumming, squeezing around him, grasping at his back like you’re holding on for dear life. 
Luca slows down his pace, giving you short thrusts as he stays deep, letting you come down from the pure euphoria you just experienced. He leans down, pressing a searing kiss to your lips as you catch your breath, your hands exploring his shoulders, his upper back, his arms. 
“You like me deep, hmmm?” Luca asks, his voice low. There’s a quiet dominance – there’s always a quiet dominance – with the way he talks to you, the way he praises you, the way he calls you his. 
“Yes,” you nod, your eyes glassy as you look up at him. 
With a knowing shake of his head he kisses you once more before giving the order:
“Get on your knees.”
Your body shaky, still reeling from your orgasm, you nod in agreement. Your arms may feel like spaghetti, but you somehow make your way onto your hands and knees, immediately feeling Luca’s warm hands smooth over your ass. You push your body backwards, offering more of yourself to him as he sighs in pleasure, remarking once more about how fucking sexy you are like this before pushing himself back inside of you. 
From this position, Luca feels unbelievably deep, and unbearably good. With his first thrust, you fall to your forearms, resting your head against them like all you can do is moan and push your ass back against him. 
“Luca!” you cry out, as he begins to speed up the pace of his thrusts. 
“You are so fucking sexy, baby,” he grunts, noting that he’d die a happy man with the view from where he kneels behind you. 
Slow deep thrusts turn into fast jerks of his hips and yours, chasing your highs simultaneously. You know he won’t last long in this position – everything feels too good. Stilling his hips inside of you, Luca gently guides you so that you're laying on your belly while he lays on top of you. It’s his scotch bonnet hand that goes to your clit this time, reaching around your body to rub feverish circles as his thrusts become sloppier, more unpredictable, always a sign that he’s on the edge. 
“Where do you want me?” he asks, his voice strained as he maintains his furious pace. 
“Inside of me,” you managed to get out in between high pitched whines, moans, and heavy breaths. 
“Inside of me, Luca.”
He grunts, because your words alone might get him off right here. 
“Make me yours.”
“Yes, love.”
It doesn’t take long, just a few more thrusts before Luca is spilling himself inside of you with uneven breaths and tense grunts as you both cum, riding out your highs together. 
Whispers of ‘so good’ and ‘incredible’ and ‘yes, baby’ are met with ‘unreal’ and ‘fucking beautiful’ and ‘my love.’ 
Luca leaves, only for a moment, to grab a towel and get you both cleaned up. You lay in each other’s arms for what feels like forever before you begin drifting off to sleep. Luca runs his fingers through your hair as he feels your body relax into his. He’s fallen asleep with you enough times to know that you’re probably no longer listening, off to dreamland. 
As Luca watches the rise and fall of your chest, he smiles to himself, the words on the tip of his tongue. He’s known great love in his life: once in his early twenties and once more, a few years before he met you.
But nothing was this – nothing’s compared to this. 
Almost as if it were a practice round, because he’s not sure whether or not you’ll even hear him, he opens his mouth, trying his best to formulate the words. He turns them over in his head, delicately, gently, then mouths them silently, before finally saying them out loud:
“I think you may be the love of my life.”
561 notes · View notes
kdogreads · 7 months
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Imagine being Luca’s girl
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Mostly ooey gooey fluff but a smidge of NSFW material below 🤭
You grow to love Carmy and Marcus
Because how couldn’t you? You spent many long nights in your kitchen with Carmy and Luca, both of them meticulously perfecting whatever they were working on for class. You’d be their chief taste-tester, and a welcomed distraction when they got too far in their own heads. You nearly cried you guys dropped him off at the airport, already telling him to call soon.
After Marcus left, you almost had Luca convinced you wanted to move to Chicago. You were constantly remarking about how funny Marcus was, how you hoped Carmy was being nice to Marcus. Luca liked to joke you just wanted to leave him for Marcus.
He’s good, baby, but not as good as you.
Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it, my love.
You take walks around Copenhagen everyday
You take morning walks by yourself, headphones in and the cool Danish air revitalizing your senses, filling the day while Luca is at work. You’d listen to Danish lessons and quietly practice as you walked, or hum along to music while you enjoyed the weather. Sometimes you still don’t believe you get to live in a place this beautiful.
When he finishes up his day, though, Luca is beside you with his strong fingers tangled lovingly in yours. Whether he’s taking you to try a new spot that just opened up, or just to enjoy some time together, Luca loves seeing your face light up at all the pretty views throughout the city.
Plus you love having your friends and family visit and taking them around to all the coolest new pop-ups or the oldest buildings in the Historic District.
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He always wants to have his hands on you
A hand resting on your thigh when you’re sitting together at a restaurant, or on your lower back while you work in the kitchen. Sometimes he just wraps his strong arms around you and tucks his head into your neck, regardless of where you are or what you’re doing. Luca’s always touching you in some way.
A lot of the touches are innocent, a soft tap to your nose to punctuate a sentence or a gentle squeeze on your bicep before he leaves the room. Not all, though, are so sweetly motivated.
He knows just how to get you worked up. A kiss to your neck turns into a bite to your earlobe and dirty words whispered into your ear.
You’re so pretty, you know that, sweet girl?
Luca…
Let’s get you home, hm? Can’t keep my hands off you, my love.
THE SEX
Luca works with his hands and that translates to all areas of his life.
His fingers dance down your body, stopping at all his favorite places. Squeezing your nipples or a pinching your inner thighs is how he starts off most of the time — his ultimate goal to drive you wild.
When he decides he’s teased enough, though, oof. This man knows exactly how to make you writhe beneath him, whines of ecstasy filling his ears and spurring him on.
He’ll make you cum at least twice before he even thinks about fucking you. Luca is convinced he’s in heaven when cries of his name fall from your pink lips, swollen from literally biting back moans.
He’ll pound you into the mattress or make love to you like it’s the last time depending on what you two were vibing with that day. He never tries anything new without first discussing it with you, but sometimes you just want him to fuck you like you’re his own personal whore and he is happy to oblige.
Luca can be so sickeningly sweet, too, that you can’t help questioning how you got so lucky. He’ll hold your face with his strong hands, cradling your head and pressing soft kisses into your lips. He whispers in your ear how much he loves you and how beautiful you are and how he can’t wait to spend his life with you while he grinds his hips into you, his thick cock reaching all the delicious spots you love. Swoon.
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Luca is just so fucking in love with you it hurts
He can’t help but talk about you at work and brag about how fire your cooking is or how good you are at Scrabble. Literally any excuse he can use to just dote on you is good enough for him.
He leaves you love letters by the bed, picks up a bouquet of wildflowers on his way home, loads the laundry so you don’t have to, literally anything to make you smile. It’s his favorite sight in the whole world.
You’d have the prettiest Copenhagen wedding
When Luca finally proposes — he kept you guessing for months after going to a jeweler to look at rings — He presents you with the most perfectly delicate and elegant ring. You wear it proudly, beaming to anyone who will listen how much you love it.
It’s a simple fall wedding, complete with handmade pastries and desserts that Marcus insisted on making for free. Short and sweet, your vows are so mushy and loving that they leave everyone in attendance blubbering, even Carmy.
Luca promises to give you a beautiful life and spend all of his days making you laugh. You promise to support his every dream and be his place to land when he needs to rest. Swoon again.
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Basically Luca is just the sweetest, most thoughtful partner ever and you happily spend all your days making sure he knows how much you love him for it
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321 notes · View notes
veryberryjelly · 5 months
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worlds best sous
pairing : chef luca x reader
prompt : gingerbread houses
𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲
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when you asked your pastry chef boyfriend to make gingerbread houses with you, you should have expected that he would find some way to make it fancy.
the two of you went to the grocery store to buy some supplied, but where you went to the pre-packaged baked goods, luca went straight for the ingredients.
you should've known.
but you were not at all complaining as you walked down the aisles with luca's hand in yours and the basket in the other so he could pick the things he wanted off the shelf.
you ended up walking home with a grocery bag full of ingredients ready to make your own gingerbread for gingerbread houses.
when you arrived back home, you went to the bedroom to change into something cozy while luca unpacked the groceries, and the two of you switched roles when he went to change and you made tea for both of you to set the mood a little bit.
when he emerged clad in grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt you sat yourself at the kitchen counter to assist in whatever way he needed.
whenever the two of you baked together, you would sit opposite him at the counter and he would talk you through the entire process while giving you tasks to do that weren't detrimental to the bake.
today he gave you the scales and the ingredients to measure them out before he mixed them and then he pulled you around to his side to cut out the shapes you both needed for the structure of the gingerbread house.
this was where you shone.
you cut out equal squares for the base with small indents to slot the pieces together easily and support the structure.
once the dough was cut, you assisted luca in setting them onto the baking trays and sliding them into the oven.
while the biscuits baked, you began mixing icing and opening up packs of sweets and chocolates to decorate.
while you were mixing the icing, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and felt a kiss pressed onto your neck.
instead of saying anything, you put down what you were doing and wrapped your arms around his, turning your head to look up at him so you were able to press a kiss onto his temple.
" you are the best sous chef i've ever had " he said quietly, causing a smile to spread out across your lips.
" very high praise. i'm honoured " you replied with a soft laugh, capturing his lips in a kiss before the oven timer broke you both out of it.
----------
@mmoodd-jobutupaki
297 notes · View notes
emjayewrites · 4 months
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PASTRY PASSIONS (4/?) (Luca x blackfemoc!)
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PAIRING: Luca x Symone (black!original character)
SUMMARY: When Symone secures a coveted position as the social media manager at Noma, the renowned Michelin-starred restaurant, she is thrilled to be part of a team that pushes boundaries and captures gastronomic excellence. As Symone immerses herself in the vibrant atmosphere of Noma, she catches the eye of Luca, a talented and career-focused pastry chef within the same establishment. Luca is captivated by her presence, however, with his desire to maintain a clear boundary between work and personal life, he resists the growing attraction he feels toward her. Despite their shared passion for the culinary world, Symone and Luca find themselves entangled in a delicate dance between friendship, ambition, and unspoken desires. As the duo collaborates on various projects, from showcasing exquisite pastries to capturing behind-the-scenes glimpses of culinary artistry, they face numerous challenges that test their resolve. Amidst the intense pressures of Noma’s demanding environment and the weight of their individual aspirations, Symone and Luca must navigate their relationship in a career-driven world, where the line between personal and professional blurs, and decisions made can shape not only one’s heart but also their future in the industry.  
WARNINGS: slow burn romance, drama, angst, grueling work conditions/not-so-glamorous life of the culinary world, cursing, slight age gap, sexual content. RATED M (18+)
TAGLIST: @cinewhore @kdoxkeic @wakandamama @afro-hispwriter @nolita-fairytale @lovebittenbyevans @blowmymbackout @superhoeva @barefoothighlander @ihyperfixateoncharacters @soufcakmistress @celestianstars @vlvtkyssis @fadingbelieverexpert @arctvrvs @scottlangswife @lilyed777 @suckthatskittlebiiitch @write-fromthe-start @pantherxrogers @penny44224 @roxyfan14-blog @aieshawilliams2001 @cillianmirphy @sarcasticmrfox @zeeader​ @eddiemunsonreader​ @geekyfer @retrouvailles-film @stargirlfics @mauvecherie-writes @spellbinding10 @blckgrl-sunflower @beahil @stnexus @iamcurlycubana @motivation-idontknowher ​@shar74nett @blackpearlbutterfly @virgosapphire79 @a-lumos-in-the-nox @creativitybewarebeware @becauseimher @crispysublimecupcake @wordswithoppar @mintbong420
AUTHOR NOTE: This is my first fic for FX’s The Bear. This contains spoilers from Season 2, so please don’t read it if you haven’t watched it. In “Honeydew”, Luca mentions that he’s been working as a pastry chef/chef for 14 years, so he has to be in his early/mid-30s (32-34-ish?) and there will be a small age gap between him and Symone. Also, Chapters 1-3 are set a month and a half before Marcus’ stage trip in January. Please DM me if you want to be added to the tag list. Enjoy reading!
CHAPTER IV: Bain-Marie
BAIN-MARIE: A water bath that prevents delicate desserts from curdling, cracking, or overcooking as they bake.
As the days rolled by at Noma, the tension between Luca and Symone lingered like a silent storm. Despite their brief yet intense connection in Oslo, their interactions were now cloaked in an uneasy atmosphere. Both danced around each other, caught in a web of unspoken emotions and unresolved feelings.
Symone tried to bury her emotions beneath a façade of professionalism. She threw herself into her work, channeling her energy into creating social media content for Noma. Yet, every time she glanced in Luca's direction, her heart fluttered, reminding her of the bond they shared during their time away.
Meanwhile, Luca wrestled with his own internal conflict. He found solace in the familiar chaos of the kitchen, throwing himself into refining pastries and mentoring Marcus. However, thoughts of Symone were a constant distraction, leaving him grappling with the unspoken tension that lingered between them.
One afternoon, amidst the controlled chaos of the kitchen, an unexpected lull provided a fleeting moment of respite. Luca stole a glance across the bustling room and found Symone engrossed in her work at an empty table, typing away on her laptop.
Summoning his courage, Luca navigated the sea of busy chefs and made his way toward her. With each step, his heartbeat quickened, nerves coiling in his stomach.
"Hey," he greeted softly as he approached Symone.
Symone looked up, surprised at the interruption. "Oh, hey Luca," she responded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Mind if I... we talk for a sec?" Luca asked, his voice tinged with a touch of uncertainty.
"Sure, what's up?" Symone replied, setting aside her work to give him her full attention.
They faced each other, the air thick with unspoken words. Luca hesitated, searching for the right words to articulate the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.
"I know things have been weird between us lately," Luca began, his gaze earnest as he met Symone's eyes. "And I just wanted to say... I don't want it to be like this."
Symone nodded in understanding, her expression softening. "Me neither. It's just... complicated."
"Yeah," Luca agreed, a rueful smile crossing his face. "But maybe it doesn't have to be."
Their eyes held a silent conversation, a myriad of emotions passing between them. For a moment, the chaos of the kitchen faded into the background, leaving only the palpable tension between Luca and Symone.
"So...what're you suggesting?" Symone wondered as her eyebrows furrowed. She inched closer to him, causing her delightful scent of vanilla and cherries to waft through his nostrils. Her smell beckoned him and it took all of Luca's willpower to not kiss her right then and there.
He's been trying to be on his best behavior since they came back from Oslo, giving her time and distance to process what happened between them, yet Marcus' advice kept echoing in his mind: he needed to uncomplicate it.
Was he scared shitless? Of course; he didn't want to be in yet another office situationship, however, Symone was proving to be too hard to forget and Luca was willing to risk it at least one more time. Call him reckless, yet he'll be an idiot to try to keep playing this platonic bullshit with her, especially after the weekend they had.
"I dunno," he shrugged, "but I don't want to be here at work feeling awkward as hell, y'know? Symone, we...had fun in Oslo, alright? Why can't we continue to have fun here?"
Her annoyed eye roll tempted him to chuckle, yet somehow he managed to keep it together. Luca enjoyed watching her reactions; she was such an open book.
Symone crossed her arms over her chest, which emphasized her breasts even more, much to Luca's chagrin. "I thought we agreed to leave it in Oslo?"
"I know, I know," Luca admitted, trying to diffuse the tension with a half-hearted grin. "But can't we at least be civil? Working like this is driving me crazy."
Symone sighed, her frustration evident. "It's not that easy, Luca. Things are different here, and we have our responsibilities."
"Yeah, responsibilities," Luca echoed, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. "I get it, but does that mean we can't even talk without it being weird?"
She hesitated, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze. "It's not about being weird. It's about keeping things professional."
"Professional," Luca repeated, the word feeling like a barricade between them. "I guess I just miss how things were."
Symone's expression softened, a flicker of nostalgia crossing her features. "I miss it too, believe me. But we can't go back."
"Can't or won't?" Luca challenged, a hint of defiance in his tone.
"Luca...don't do this." Symone's gaze softened briefly before she regained her composure. "This isn't the time or place for... this."
An awkward silence settled between them, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Luca ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident.
"Alright, then," he said finally, trying to sound nonchalant despite the ache in his chest. "I'll leave it alone."
Symone's gaze softened, a hint of regret flashing in her eyes. "Luca, I..."
But before she could finish, Luca gave her a small, understanding nod. "It's fine, really." With a heavy heart, Luca pivoted on his heel to turn away and get back to his work, but something – someone –stopped him.
"Luca," she stated in a harsh whisper, her fingers lightly gripping his wrist, halting his departure. Her eyes pleaded with him, conflicted emotions swirling within them. "Please."
He turned back around, caught off guard by the sudden contact, and met her gaze, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Yes, Symone?"
"I didn't mean for it to be like this," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the kitchen's clamor. "It's just... it's complicated. Can we talk about this later? Just you and me?"
He searched her eyes for a moment, seeing a mix of regret and longing. "Sure," he said. "Where?"
Symone's grip on his wrist loosened, her hand falling back to her side. "My apartment. I can make us dinner."
"Trying to bribe me with food, huh?" Luca let out a low whistle, shaking his head in mock displeasure. "That's cold, Symone."
Symone managed a small, rueful smile, a glint of warmth in her eyes. "Hey, it's the least I can do."
Luca chuckled softly, the tension in the air easing just a fraction. "Alright, fine, but I can't promise that I'll enjoy it as much as I want to."
"Liar," Symone quipped. "You know damn well you've been itching to try my cooking."
"We shall see, Symone." He glanced over at his workstation. "I have to finish up my work, but I'll see you later, okay?"
"Okay," was her response.
Symone silently watched as Luca headed back to his tasks.
______________________________________________________________
The hours passed slowly for Luca, his mind occupied with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty about the upcoming evening. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, he found solace in the familiarity of his work, channeling his restless energy into perfecting the desserts for the evening service.
As the day wound down, Luca glanced at the clock, realizing it was time to leave. With a sense of both apprehension and excitement, he made his way to Symone's apartment, the thoughts of their impending conversation swirling in his mind.
Upon arrival, Symone greeted him with a warm smile, the aroma of a homemade meal filling the cozy space. They exchanged a few light-hearted remarks about their day, attempting to mask the unspoken tension that lingered between them.
Dinner progressed smoothly, the conversation flowing more easily than expected. Symone's culinary skills surpassed his expectations, and Luca couldn't help but admit how much he enjoyed the meal. They laughed and reminisced about shared experiences, momentarily letting go of the weight that rested between them.
As they finished their meal, Luca sensed Symone's demeanor shifting, her expression becoming more earnest.
"Luca," Symone began, her tone tinged with a mix of hesitation and resolve. "I've been distant, and I want to apologize for that."
A reassuring smile appeared on his lips. "I understand. I'm sure it can be weird coming back after all the things we've done in Oslo." He added a sultry wink at the end and Symone kissed her teeth at his antics. "I'm not sure about you, but after something like that, fucking you like that, I can't just be friends, Symone. Don't you miss that? Don't you miss how we felt together?"
"I do miss it," she confessed, her eyes meeting his with a twinge of vulnerability. She wouldn't lie to herself to say anything else; it took so long to admit it. Since that weekend in Oslo, all she could dream about was Luca's big, calloused hands on her smooth skin. Symone was unable to shake off the feeling of Luca inside of her, fucking her relentlessly. Call her touch starved, a sex feign, whatever; yet it was no denying how wonderful it felt to be with him, even for a brief moment.
Luca's heart skipped a beat at her honesty. "I miss it too, more than you know."
The air between them crackled with unspoken emotions, but there was an unspoken agreement, a silent understanding that they both yearned for more than just professionalism between them.
"I want to find a way to balance this," Symone said, her voice soft but resolute. "But I don't even know where to start. I mean—fuck!" She used both hands to cover her face and mumbled out a few incoherent sentences. Exhaling a deep breath, she finally removed her hands from her face. "Sorry, I can be a bit melodramatic. Obviously, what we had was fun..."
"Yes," smiled Luca, "it was really fun. I'm down to keep going if you are, Symone. Just say the words."
If it all was that simple, she thought. But it could be...
As soon as that intrusive musing popped up in her mind, she quickly forbade it, pushing it to the deep depths of her consciousness. Symone felt a mix of emotions swirl within her, a whirlwind of hesitation, desire, and caution. Luca's proposal sounded both appealing and daunting at the same time.
"It's not that simple," she murmured, her gaze lingering on Luca, feeling a tug-of-war between her longing to reconnect and the fear of the repercussions. "Listen, this is hard for me to navigate, okay? I have a career to worry about. I mean, we both have careers. What if someone finds out?"
"Then we figure it out, Symone," Luca said all too calmly. "This isn't my first go-around for something like this and I can understand your concern, your worry, but...how 'bout we put a timeframe on it, okay? Let's say until Noma officially closes its Copenhagen restaurant? Until then, we're friends with benefits, a couple, whatever you want to describe it."
Wow, he has all the answers, doesn't he?
A sense of frustration flickered within her, the conflict evident on her face. "And at work?" she wondered, rolling her eyes at the uncomfortable ease he had towards this. It sounded ludicrous and she hated the idea of sneaking around. It made her feel all too reminiscent of her younger, teenage self hiding her boyfriend from her nosy, overprotective father.
Been there, done that, and still remember the punishment of that entire ordeal.
Luca shrugged nonchalantly. "Work is work, but alone time is just us."
"And then what? What happens after Noma closes?"
His demeanor remained composed, a hint of determination in his eyes. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."
Symone pondered his proposition; it stirred a sense of reluctance, yet there was an undeniable pull toward Luca, a chance to rekindle something they had lost, which was something she so desperately craved. "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes," he agreed. "Whether it's at your place or mine, we can be whatever you desire, and at work, we are strictly professional. How does that sound, baby?"
"Baby?" Symone scoffed. "So we're jumping right in with the affection, huh?"
"Fuck yeah," he said as his eyes twinkled with mischief. He eased out of his chair to saunter over to her. Despite his innate desire to erase any specific timeline from their connection, he recognized the necessity of gently rekindling their relationship.
He towered above her, the gravitational pull between them was undeniable, a magnetic force that seemed to transcend the boundaries of logic and rationality.
As he stood there, close yet not touching, Luca grappled with the conflicting desires within him. He prided himself on patience and adhering to rules, but Symone had a way of dismantling his resolve, sparking an urgency that tugged at his restraint.
"Symone," he began, his voice softer, a deep timbre, and he reached out tentatively to caress her cheek. "We'll do whatever you what, okay?"
The touch sent a jolt through both of them, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection that lingered between them. Luca felt the familiar tug of attraction and the urge to unravel the intricacies of their bond, and as much as he tried to exercise restraint, reminding himself of the importance of patience and understanding, his fervor for her managed to overtake his entire existence.
Cupping her chin, he leaned down to kiss her. Their lips met in a passionate embrace, igniting a fire within them that burned hotter with each passing second. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the intoxicating taste of each other's lips, their bodies pressed together in a desperate need for closeness. The world around them faded away, leaving only the electrifying sensation of their kiss. It was a moment of pure bliss, where desire and longing merged into one unforgettable experience.
Their embrace deepened, and a low, passionate moan escaped Symone's lips, echoing the intensity of their connection. Her fingers tangled in Luca's hair, gently massaging his scalp, heightening the pleasure of their intimate exchange.
Luca pulled at her clothing, and Symone quickly got the hint, separating briefly to remove her t-shirt. Her breasts were covered by her bra yet Luca still growled at the sight of her — she was still as gorgeous as he remembered.
"C'mere," he said as his hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her back to him. Symone melted into him, her body responding instinctively to his commanding presence. Their lips moved once again in sync, a dance of passion and longing, as Luca's hands trailed up her back, tracing the delicate curve of her spine. With a surge of courage, he unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor, and exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze.
Luca's eyes darkened with desire as he hungrily took in the sight before him. He leaned down, capturing one of her hardened nipples with his lips, teasing it with his tongue. Symone gasped at the sensation, arching into his touch, craving more.
Sensing her need, Luca gently lifted her off her feet and carried her towards the bedroom. Symone's heart raced with anticipation as they entered the room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm ambiance over the space. She could feel the heat radiating off Luca's body, a tangible reminder of their growing desire.
As he laid her down on the bed, she reached up to pull him down on top of her. Symone's hands roamed over his muscular back, feeling every inch of his sculpted form as they continued to explore each other.
Breaking away from their embrace, Luca looked into Symone's eyes with a mixture of tenderness and urgency. "I want you so fuckin' much, Symone," he whispered hoarsely. "Do you want me too, baby?"
She nodded in silent agreement and with practiced ease, Luca removed her lounge pants and panties before discarding his own clothing. They were both naked now, their bodies entwined in an embrace that left no room for doubt or hesitation.
Luca gazed at Symone with reverence before claiming her lips again in a passionate kiss. His hands roamed over her body, refamiliarizing himself with every curve and dip before settling between her thighs.
Symone moaned as he began to explore her most intimate parts with skilled fingers, eliciting waves of pleasure that coursed through her body. She clung to him tightly as they moved together in perfect harmony, lost in sheer ecstasy. Her back arched into a bow and her hips moved in tandem with his ministrations.
"That's right, baby, let me know how much you need this," he crooned. "Do you want to cum?"
"Yes." Symone could feel the waves of pleasure building within her. She moaned his name, her body surrendering to his touch.
Luca's lips trailed down her neck, nipping and kissing at the sensitive skin before making his way down to her breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking it with his tongue while his fingers continued their rhythmic movements.
Symone could hardly think or speak, completely consumed by the sensations coursing through her body.
With a wicked grin, Luca slid down her body until he was positioned between her legs. His tongue replaced his fingers, sending a jolt of pleasure through Symone's entire being. She cried out as he expertly circled and flicked at her clit with a teasing touch before plunging it deep inside of her.
Symone's hips bucked uncontrollably as Luca continued to tease her with his skilled tongue. She felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge, ready to topple over into pure pleasure.
But just as she was on the brink of release, Luca stopped and moved back up to kiss her deeply. Symone groaned in frustration and pulled him closer, craving more of his touch.
"I want you inside me," she whispered against his lips.
Without hesitation, Luca positioned himself between her thighs and slowly pushed himself inside of her. They both moaned at the feeling of being joined together again after so long apart.
Their pace quickened as they moved together in perfect sync, each thrust taking them higher and higher towards their climax. Symone dug her nails into Luca's back as he drove into her with a new intensity. The room was filled with their moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. They were both lost in the moment, consumed by their desire for each other.
"Harder," Symone gasped, her eyes locking onto Luca's.
He obliged, picking up the pace and thrusting deeper into her. She felt his hands grip her hips tightly, his movements growing more urgent. Symone could feel herself getting closer to the edge once again, the pleasure building inside of her like a fire that was about to explode.
With a guttural groan, Luca leaned down and captured her lips in a searing kiss as he reached his own climax. Symone followed soon after, crying out his name as she rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through her body.
They collapsed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, both breathing heavily and basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking.
"I missed you," Luca said softly, stroking Symone's hair as they lay there together.
Symone felt the soft, gentle touch of Luca's fingers as they combed through her braids, soothing and comforting her. "I missed you too," she replied, turning to face him with a smile. "I can't believe we finally did this again."
Luca chuckled. "Me neither. But it was definitely worth the wait."
______________________________________________________________
The sun filtered through the sheer curtains as Luca and Symone lay tangled in each other's embrace. Symone traced lazy circles on Luca's chest, her fingertips gliding along the contours of his toned muscles and the outlines of his tattoos. Each touch sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a dormant fire within him. He reveled in the weight of her body against his, the softness of her skin against his own.
Luca let out a contented sigh, savoring the feeling of her being in his arms. It had been too long since he had held her like this, since they had been together in this way. He couldn't believe how much he had missed her.
"How 'bout I make us some breakfast?" he said and Symone let out a chuckle. "What? Aren't you hungry?"
"I can eat," she replies, "but I figured you'd want to...enjoy each other's company for a little while longer."
"Ah..." Luca smiled at the revelation of her words. "I mean, I'm a good multitasker. I could always cook something and fuck you at the same time."
"Bullshit," she scoffed, giving him a playful nudge.
He tilted her chin upwards so that they were at eye level. "Do you wanna take that bet, love?"
Symone's eyes sparkled with mischief as she considered his proposition. The thought of Luca managing to cook breakfast while simultaneously pleasuring her seemed both impossible and enticing. She couldn't deny that the idea excited her.
"Alright," she finally conceded, an impish grin spreading across her face. "I'll take that bet."
Luca's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of excitement glinting within them. He never backed down from a challenge, and this was no exception.
He led Symone towards the kitchen and instructed her to take a seat on one of the barstools before donning an apron, washing his hands, and getting to work.
As he moved around the kitchen with fluid motions, Symone watched intently. Luca put on a fresh pot of coffee and then set off to gather supplies for waffles.
"Do you have any bacon?" he asked as he examined the refrigerator.
"Nope," she quipped, "but there's prosciutto."
"Interesting," he mumbled to himself. "Alright, prosciutto it is." He started the batter for the waffles, and he gazed at Symone as he whisked the ingredients together. "Spread your legs."
The unexpected command intrigued her, and she did as she was told, spreading her legs as wide as she could. She was ready dripping with arousal and it was no way of hiding it.
Luca licked his lips in anticipation. "Fuckin' hell, you're soaking already. I am always amazed by how quickly you become wet for me."
"I mean it helps when you're easy on the eyes."
"Charmer," Luca goaded as he carefully poured the batter into the waffle iron. He set the timer and then turned his attention back to Symone. "Play with your pussy."
Symone felt a rush of excitement at the command, but she tried to keep her composure as she reached between her legs and began to tease herself. She let out a soft moan as she circled her clit with her fingers, feeling the familiar tingling sensation begin to build within her.
Luca watched her studiously, his eyes darkening with desire. He could see how ready she was for him, and it only fueled his own arousal. Symone couldn't help but squirm under Luca's fiery gaze as she pleasured herself in front of him. She focused on her pleasure, rubbing her clit and occasionally dipping a finger inside herself. She let out another soft moan, imagining it was Luca's fingers bringing her to the brink of ecstasy.
He couldn't resist any longer and stepped forward, placing a hand on her thigh as he bent down to capture her lips in a passionate kiss.
Symone eagerly responded, wrapping her arms around his neck and deepening the kiss. She could feel his hard length pressing against her through his apron, and it only made her want him more.
Breaking the kiss, Luca pulled back slightly to look into Symone's eyes. "I couldn't wait any longer," he whispered huskily.
Symone nodded in agreement before leaning back on the barstool and spreading her legs wider for him. Luca wasted no time in positioning himself at her entrance.
He slowly pushed inside of her, savoring the feeling of being surrounded by her warmth. They both let out a simultaneous moan as he began to move within her, their bodies moving together with ease.
The sound of the timer going off distracted them from their intimate connection, causing them both to chuckle. Luca pulled out and helped Symone off the barstool. He then turned off the waffle iron and skillfully plated their meal.
"C'mon," he ordered, gesturing for Symone to follow him to the dining table. He set their plates down, but instead of sitting down as she expected, Luca pushed her gently against the table, causing her to gasp in surprise.
"Hands on the table," he instructed, his voice low and deep.
Symone shivered at his dominance and complied without hesitation. She braced herself against the table as Luca moved closer behind her, pressing himself against her back and running his hands up her sides.
"You like being told what to do?" he whispered into her ear before nipping at her earlobe.
"Yes," Symone breathed out in response, feeling a surge of pleasure shoot through her body at his touch.
"Good girl," Luca praised as his hands lingered on her ass. He slapped the right buttock harshly and Symone hissed at the sting. "Fuck, Symone, you have no idea what you do to me. Can I have like this, baby? Can I bend you over the table and fuck you?"
Holy shit, she thought. She nodded her head hurriedly.
"Use your words, baby," he told her as he sent another slap to her ass. "Tell me what you want."
"Yes, yes," was her response. "Please fuck me, Luca."
Luca's deep chuckle was like honey to her ears and Symone's entire being went abuzz with exhilaration. She felt his pierced penis head brush against her entrance before slowly pushing inside of her once more. Symone moaned loudly as Luca filled her, feeling every inch of him as he began to move within her. He set a steady pace, his hands roaming all over her body as he kissed and nipped at her skin.
With each thrust, Symone's pleasure intensified until she was overwhelmed by it. She could feel the heat building in the pit of her stomach, signaling her impending release.
"Luca," she gasped out, gripping onto the edge of the table for support.
"I know, baby," he grunted in response, picking up his pace. "Me too."
Symone felt as if she were on fire, her body consumed by the pleasure Luca was giving her. Her mind was hazy with desire and she could only focus on the sensations coursing through her.
Luca's hands moved from her hips to cup her breasts, kneading them gently as he continued to thrust into her.
His movements became more frantic and desperate as they both chased their climax. Symone could feel herself getting closer and closer until finally, they both reached their peak together.
They collapsed onto the table in a heap of sweaty limbs and heavy breathing. They stayed there for a few moments, catching their breaths and basking in the afterglow of their passionate encounter. Luca pressed kisses to Symone's neck before slowly pulling out of her and helping her stand upright again.
He turned her around to face him and pulled her into a tight hug. "Best waffles I've ever had," she joked breathlessly, causing Luca to chuckle again.
"You can have them every morning if you want," he replied with a smirk.
After a few minutes of standing there in each other's embrace, they separated and cleaned up the kitchen together. It was a comfortable silence between them now, filled with stolen glances and shy smiles.
As they sat down at the dining table to finally eat their waffles, Symone couldn't help but think about how perfect this moment felt. Even though she knew that this wouldn't last forever, she felt content with just being with him, and she wanted to revel in this feeling as long as she possibly could.
______________________________________________________________
A couple of days later, Luca woke up with a newfound pep in his step. The previous night, after a long and mentally draining distance, he had made up with Symone.
As he made his way to Noma, Luca couldn't help but smile at the memory of their passionate encounter. It felt like a turning point in their relationship, a moment of understanding and connection that they hadn't experienced before. And as he entered the chaotic kitchen of Noma, Luca's heart was still filled with that exhilarating energy.
Luca walked into the bustling kitchen of Noma, and he spotted Marcus, the stagiaire he had been working with lately, and motioned for him to join him at the workstation.
"Today, we're going to tackle the shiso gelee," Luca said, his voice filled with confidence.
"Yes, Chef," Marcus nodded eagerly, ready to learn from the master.
"So just watch me. When you're comfortable, jump in. Don't try to be a hero and then fuck it up."
"Yes, Chef," affirmed Marcus as he focused on Luca's movements. Marcus watched as Luca carefully demonstrated each step of the plating process to Marcus, explaining the importance of precision and attention to detail. "It's like Operation," commented Marcus.
"Bzz," joked Luca as he placed the final layer, a caramel cracker, on top. "Alright, there you go." Luca wiped his hands on the towel that was strategically placed in his apron's pocket. "Go 'head and try that out for me."
Marcus grabbed a nearby fork and dug right in, chewing delightfully. "Whoa. It kind of tastes like a, um..."
"Minty Snickers bar?" interrupted Luca.
"A minty Snickers bar," laughed Marcus. "That's crazy. Yeah."
A small smile appeared on Luca's face. "Symone said the same thing when she tried it. I want you to think of a name for it, if you're up for the task, that is. I don't think Minty Snickers bar will gel well with our customers."
"Yeah, of course, no problem," Marcus grinned. "Thanks for teaching me."
"It's my pleasure," Luca replied before turning his attention back to the other tasks at hand. Amidst all this chaos and creativity, there was one person who continued to linger in his mind – Symone.
He wondered what she was doing at that very moment; if she was thinking about him as much as he was thinking about her. He yearned to see her again and wanted to have another recap of their last time together.
As lunch service came to an end and preparations began for dinner service later on, Luca decided to take a smoke break. The fresh air would do him good after being cooped up in a hot kitchen all day.
Luca stepped out of Noma's kitchen and into the cool Copenhagen air. The chill in the air was refreshing after being holed up in such a high-intensity environment for hours on end. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag, savoring the taste and feeling of the smoke filling his lungs.
As he exhaled, Luca's mind wandered back to Symone once again. He couldn't help but smile as he remembered that night, and early morning, together. But as much as he wanted to see her again, Luca knew that work came first. And with dinner service about to begin, he needed to focus on that.
"Chef?" called Marcus, snapping Luca out of his thoughts.
"Yeah? What's up?" wondered Luca as he finished his cigarette and flicked it onto the ground.
"Making sure you're good, that's all," said Marcus with a shrug. "You seem...cool now. I figured you spoke to Symone?"
"Yeah," nodded Luca, "We cleared the air. Thanks, Marcus."
"So, it won't be awkward between y'all no more?"
"Nah," chuckled Luca. "No more awkwardness. Let's go back inside and get ready for dinner service."
As he re-entered the kitchen, Luca immediately got back into chef mode, checking on all of his team's stations and making sure everything was running smoothly. The air in the kitchen was filled with a symphony of sizzling pans, clinking utensils, and the rhythmic chopping of vegetables. Luca's team moved with well-rehearsed precision, each member focused on their designated tasks.
Maria, Luca's trusted sous chef, was delicately crafting miniature chocolate tarts. Her nimble fingers danced across the counter, gracefully shaping each tart shell and filling them with a luscious ganache that tasted like pure decadence. Not too far away from her, Theo and Marcus worked together on the bread, kneading and separating the dough, getting it ready to use as tonight's dinner rolls.
The dinner service entered its peak hours, and Luca's mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of Symone. He couldn't wait to see her again and make up for all the lost time they had spent apart.
But just as he was about to sneak off for another smoke break, the door swung open and Symone stepped in, followed by James and Rene.
"Thank you for coming to Hart Bageri despite such short notice, Symone," said Rene with a warm smile. "James and I can't wait for your plan to come to fruition."
"It's my pleasure, as always," replied Symone with a charming smile. "And thank you for the pastries."
Luca couldn't help but be intrigued as he watched James and Rene warmly speak with Symone. He was aware of their previous collaborations but wondered what specific project required her to be at Hart Bageri. As much as he wanted to talk to Symone to figure out what was going on, work always came first, and he needed a small reprieve before jumping back in.
The kitchen was finally starting to wind down after a successful dinner service. The last of the customers had left, and the staff was busy cleaning up and prepping for the next day's service, Luca finally had a chance to approach Symone. He took a moment to swing by her office.
"Hey," Luca said, catching Symone's attention as she finished up some paperwork at her desk. "I saw you earlier with James and Rene. What's this project you're working on together?"
Symone looked up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Ah, Luca," she said, smirking. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?"
Luca leaned against the edge of her desk, a playful smirk mirroring hers. "Well, surprises can be quite exciting, don't you think?" he teased.
She chuckled softly, her gaze never leaving his face. "True, true. But I think we both know that other things can be equally exciting."
His heart raced at the implication in her words. Memories of their passionate encounters flooded his mind, and he felt the familiar heat of desire igniting within him. Despite the professional façade they had to maintain during work hours, there had always been something simmering just beneath the surface. It was a delicate dance they performed, balancing their insatiable lust with the need to maintain a certain level of professionalism in the workplace. But now, with Symone's suggestive comment hanging in the air, Luca couldn't resist the magnetic pull between them any longer.
With a coy smile, she leaned back in her chair, and Luca took a seat at the corner of her desk.
"Do you have any plans for tonight?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.
Symone felt a shiver run down her spine at the sound of his voice. "Just you," she replied, matching his tone. "But I do have some work to finish up here first."
Luca gave her a playful pout. "Can't it wait?"
She couldn't help but laugh at his impatience. "As much as I would love to jump into your arms right now, I have some important paperwork to take care of before we can have any fun."
He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance but nodded understandingly. "Alright then, I'll leave you to it. But don't take too long," he said with a wink before getting up from the desk. "If you want, I figure we head over to my place if that's alright?"
"Yeah, that's fine," she smiled. "I'll be ready in an hour."
"Sounds good."
Symone watched him walk out of her office, feeling a sense of longing and excitement building within her. She quickly finished up her work and made arrangements for the next day before grabbing her belongings and meeting up with Luca for their evening together.
That night, as soon as they arrived at Luca's apartment, he pulled her into a passionate kiss as soon as they stepped inside. Symone caught quick glimpses of his space: most of the walls were painted a deep burgundy, the color contrasting nicely with the exposed brick. The apartment was very much bachelor pad with an industrial feel complete with abstract paintings and a mixture of wood and leather furniture. It smelled exactly like him, sandalwood and the musk from his cologne.
His hands roamed over her body, igniting sparks of desire that coursed through her veins. They fell onto the couch, their lips still locked in a fierce embrace. Symone felt Luca's hands unbuttoning her blouse, and she eagerly reciprocated by pulling his t-shirt over his head. They both knew what they wanted, and there was no use wasting any time.
As they continued to explore each other's bodies with eager hands and lips, Symone felt the familiar heat building within her. She moaned softly as Luca trailed kisses down her neck and across her collarbone, sending shivers of pleasure through her body. Symone couldn't believe how naturally they fit together, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization. She couldn't help but let out soft moans as Luca worshipped every inch of her skin. Symone felt like she could get lost in Luca forever, drowning in the overwhelming rush of feelings he ignited within her.
"I could never get enough of you," he said as he removed her last article of clothing. "God, Symone, you don't understand what you do to me."
Luca bent down to take one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked on it gently, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from Symone. His hands continued their exploration, caressing her thighs and slipping between her legs to find her already wet with desire.
All mine, he thought as their bodies eventually connected again. And I'm never letting you go.
And from the one sentiment, he knew that this could never be something casual, especially when it came to her.
TO BE CONTINUED....
187 notes · View notes
clemanime · 7 months
Text
Sweets
MINORS DNI
A/N: I know its been.. an unspecified amount of time but I can explain! (I can't actually) Have this and an apology (It's gonna happen again) See you next time. Muchos besos!
Description: Unnamed Fem!Reader and Luca have history. One-sided but still history.
Warning: Smut, Fluff, Confession, Vaginal penetration (ooh spoicy), breeding (unintentionally), Vaginal fingering, Wirty dords and phrases, and this man Luca himself (he is a little too fine in this one, makes me feral)
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“You guys are going to Copenhagen.” Sydney said as she looked at the both of them while leaning against the counter that was just put into the kitchen. There was chaos around them, walls being put up and others being knocked down. The Bear was set to open and it seemed like one thing right after the other decided to go wrong.
“What’s in Copenhagen?” She stepped forward, standing next to Marcus. Her braids pulled back out of her face as she put her hands in her jacket pocket.
“Uh… I don’t know. An old friend of Carmy.” Her heart raced as she thought of the only other person that he would consider a friend that also lived in a different country.
“Can I decline?” She asked quickly, both Sydney and Marcus looking at her.
“What?”
“Why?” Marcus and Sydney spoke in unison.
“I just… don’t think I should go.” She looked between them.
“Why? What do you have going on that you can’t go?”
“My cat…”
“I’ll take care of him.” Sydney said quickly, dispelling the only excuse she had.
“You don’t have a reason not to go.” Marcus said as he crossed his arms. It was true, there really wasn’t a reason not to go. Aside from being in the same kitchen as Luca. She looked at the both of them before letting out a heavy sigh.
“You can stay at my apartment to take care of him.”
“You’re going?” Sydney questioned excitedly.
“Yeah.”
Upon their arrival in Copenhagen, they took in as much of the city as they could. The both of them, making sure to take a bunch of pictures and stopping at different bakeries to look at their displays on the way to their new temporary home. It was a first for both of them when they got onto the boat, her room towards the front while Marcus got to sleep in the level above the kitchen area. “We’ve gotta leave water out.” He said from his spot in front of the table. Marcus silently reread the note in his hand as she approached him to look over at the paper.
“For who?”
“A cat or something.” He shrugged, the pair looking back at the empty water bowl on the floor.
“Okay.” She patted his shoulder. “You got it.” The pair laughed before separating to get settled for the night.
The next day they woke up before daybreak, both alarms blaring and making sure they actually got up. She found herself already distracted while getting ready for their first day. She wondered what he looked like now. Whether he looked any different. “Of course he probably does.” She grumbled to herself with a mouth full of toothpaste. She was broken from her thoughts when there was a rapid knock on the bathroom door. “Hey, we’re gonna be late if you take long.”
“My bad!” She finished up quickly then finished getting dressed.
The pair set off to the restaurant, walking in silence for a moment before Marcus spoke up. “Man..” He began. “I’m excited.” He looked ahead, his hands in the pockets of his parka. “Did you ever think that you’d be here?”
“Not really.” She responded, her hands in her pockets as well. “I thought I’d be in my own bakery by now to be fair.”
“Yeah?” He smiled. “Maybe once Carmy gets his shit together, you can get started.”
“If Carmy got his shit together.” The pair laughed.
The walk was filled with conversation and laughter but at the back of her mind, she was still wondering about Luca. The closer they got the more her heart pounded, her hands becoming a little clammy. She stopped walking when they came to the employee entrance of the Restaurant, her eyes on the door handle. Marcus stopped next to her, looking between her and the door. “Everything good?”
“Yeah.. um.. you head in first, I’m gonna call Sydney to check on Butters.” She mumbled out a lie as she pulled her phone out.
“You’re a bad liar.. but okay.” He nodded before entering first.
She needed to compose herself. It had been a long time and she had thoroughly convinced herself she was fine. That she was over it. “He might not be in today.. he might not even remember you and it’ll be fine.” She began to pace to help with calming her nerves but it didn’t work. Talking to herself didn’t work. “It’s been years. You’re not a child.” She sighed and looked at the door handle again, still unable to bring herself to enter.
“If you’re not goin’ in, mind if I get by?” She froze, looking back at him as if she had been caught stealing. “Oh..” His shocked expression told him that Carmy didn’t tell him about her arrival. And that he recognized her. “Are you here to learn?”
“Yeah.. I came with Marcus.” She cleared her throat. “Well not with Marcus but I traveled here with him.” She stepped away from the door so he could go in.
“It’s good to see you.” He pulled the door open for her, grinning at her. “Comin’ in?” She nodded before she stepped inside first, mumbling a thank you before heading straight to the back to get changed.
Once she finished, she went to join them, standing in the background and keeping her head down as she listened to Luca’s instructions. He had her working on whipping cream. A feat that she had tried to concur years ago but gave up on. She had deemed her arch-nemesis. Luca placed a chilled bowl, a carton of heavy whipping cream, sugar, and a whisk at her station. He stood beside her as he began to explain what she needed to do as if she didn’t already know. She mumbled a ‘Yes Chef’ to him before she began.
She began slowly, her eyes on the liquid in the bowl she had begun to whisk together. She remembered the first time she worked with Luca. His attitude towards his craft and others was a stark difference in comparison to each other. He had been arrogant and cocky when they worked together but no matter how rude he’d gotten, she continued to be nice. She wasn’t sure when the feelings for him started.
“Hey. What are you doing?” Luca questioned as he looked at her while she stood at his station.
“Chopping.” She responded in her usual happy tone. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Do I look like I need your help?” He stepped forward, his face turning red with annoyance and frustration. “Put the knife down and go away.”
“You don’t have to be mean about it.” She furrowed her brows.
“Whateva’.” He rolled his eyes. “Just find something else to do.”
“Fine.” She scoffed. She began to work on her own tasks, humming softly. She winced in pain and dropped her knife on the floor, tears welling up in her eyes at the sting from her finger. “Shit..” She walked towards the back, Luca watching her carefully before he went to follow her.
“Nearly chopped your finger off?”
“Yeah.” She answered honestly. “I got distracted…” She bit the back of her other hand as she ran water over it. “It’s so stupid.”
“Here.” He reached for her injured hand and looked at the cut. “No stitches. Which is good. Let me grab the first aid kit.” He walked away, leaving her to her thoughts. Once he came back, he had the red box in his hand and began to clean her cut properly before gently placing a bandage and a cover over it. “Be careful next time. Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She looked at him and smiled, Luca staring at her for a moment before letting her hand go and returning to what he was previously doing.
In the time following that, she found herself trying to talk to him more. She would continue to smile at him and greet him, secretly doing prep for him after she finished her so that he would have somewhat of an easy day. At first, Luca wasn’t receptive to her enthusiasm but slowly warmed up to her. Her random questions or statements added to her charm. The way she would continuously hum throughout the day or scurry off the few times he caught her doing his prep. She grew on him and when he had to leave, it was like he was losing the best friend he cherished with his entire being.
“You overdid it.” Luca pointed out as he looked over her shoulder and yanked her from her thoughts. “Try again.”
Her apron was stained and the cream had become lumpy. She stared at it, her hands on her hips as her frustrations grew. “Can I just fix this batch?” She looked at him. “Or turn it into butter?”
“You could... but this is the third time you’ve tried to fix it.” His voice was stern but she knew he wasn’t upset. She hadn’t even realized what she was doing, her thoughts seemingly consuming her. “You’re out of heavy cream and you’ve made way more than we need.”
“What?” She looked down at the bowl. “Shit.”
“Do you know where you went wrong?” He questioned, seemingly knowing what was going on with her.
“I got distracted..” She sighed.
“Start over.” He made a move to walk away but her words made him pause.
“Can I move on to something else?” She asked before he could fully walk off. “You know my hatred for whipped cream.”
“No.” He crossed his tattooed arms, his biceps more defined as he did. “There’s more cream in the walk in.” He turned and walked away from her, leaving her to her own thoughts. She let her head hang before going towards the walk in.
She walked into the walk-in freezer, chewing on her bottom lip as she looked for all the items she needed. The door opened and Luca walked in, easily grabbing everything he needed and pausing when he realized how confused she looked. “What do you need?”
“Cream.” She looked around again before whipping around to face him and nearly colliding with his chest. She swallowed hard before pursing her lips and looking up at him as he reached to grab the cream from the top shelf. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” He responded. “Cleaning the walk-in always seems to confuse someone around here. It’s about time it was you.” He smirked before walking out. She shivered, the chill combating against her heating body.
“Get it together…” She exhaled and walked out.
The day had gone by a little too quickly and she was still standing at her station trying to get the whipped cream right. “Hey, do you want me to wait for you?” Marcus asked, his bag on his back as he walked towards her.
“No. It’s fine. I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t get this.” She smiled gently. “You go ahead and get some rest.”
“Alright. If you’re sure.” He held his fist up, the duo fist bumping to confirm that it was fine for him to head out on his own.
She focused on whipping the cream, her eyes down and her head seemingly trying her hardest to empty as her hands moved more delicately once it was at the consistency she wanted. She stepped back and sighed, putting her hands on her hips and taking in the mess she now needed to clean up. “Lucky for you, we had back up to go through.” Luca said, seemingly just appearing behind her again. She jumped, quickly turning to face him.
“Sorry.” She looked down.
“No one’s gonna take your head off.” He walked towards her, looking over the mess. “You’ve got it and that’s all that counts.” He crossed his arms, an action that began to find enticing to look at. The muscles of his biceps and forearms were more prominent, his tattoos grabbing her attention as well as the veins that seemed to pop out. Her eyes followed them before she forced herself to look into his eyes. She swallowed the lump that had decided to settle in her throat as she wondered if he caught her staring so openly. “How’ve things been?” It was an out of the blue question. But he was genuinely curious. He hadn’t seen nor spoke to her in years, same with Carmy.
She turned back around, beginning to clean up. “Oh.. you know.. it’s the usual with Carmy. He’s being a bit ambitious as always.”
“I don’t mean with Carmy.” He spoke low, almost upset that that was what she assumed he meant. She turned around with some of the now empty dirty bowls. “I meant with you.” He clarified as they stared at each other in silence before she spoke again.
“Uh.. well nothing really changed since last we saw each other.” She responded. “I’ve got a cat now. He’s pretty sweet and super cuddly.”
“Hm.” He nodded, leaning against the counter across from her. “So.. no bakery then?” She smiled and shook her head, putting the bowl down.
“The bakery wasn’t in my plans for a long time now.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t really think it was worth it anymore.”
“It would have been.” He reassured her. “Your whipped cream would have been for shit either way but you can work around that.” They both laughed in unison, standing in a comfortable silence afterwards. “But I’m sure with you running it, Sweets Bakery would have been the talk of the year.”
“I can’t believe you remember the name.”
“How could I forget?” He questioned her.
“It’s such a stupid name.” She mumbled.
“I would say that. I think the name made sense.”
“Really?”
“Yeah..  from what I remember, you were always sweet.” Luca rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at her.
“What?” She looked at him in confusion, her brows furrowing. His chuckle sounded like a low rumble as he shook his head.
“You were always sweet.” He repeated in the same octave. “Making sure everything was at my station, double cleaning duty, taking the blame for everything even if you didn’t do it.” He let out a sigh. “I thought you were stupid for it but honestly I grew fond of it. It was cute seein’ your face light up when I finished somethin’ even though you’ve seen it a million times.” He crossed his arms as he looked at her, his head leaning to side slightly as if reliving a memory he had. “I’m sorry I left like that. I know things were a lot easier because of the flow. But when I got the offer, I had to take it.”
“I wasn’t upset because of the offer you got.” She sighed, her eyes down. “And you don’t have to apologize for that. You don’t owe me anything.” She finally looked at him, smiling gently but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It was stupid. I- you..” She found it difficult forming a sentence. “God it’s so stupid.” She stood up straight as she shook her head. The feelings she had before hadn’t died fully it seems. Seeing him again had started a metaphorical fire that made her feel like she was stepping back into the pass. “I.. enjoyed working with you.” She began, taking him by surprise. “But it was difficult and I couldn’t focus because of you. Most of my major fuck ups was because I was too busy thinking about you. I couldn’t think around you and all I could smell was your stupid cologne and see your hands?” She sighed, wanting to scream in frustration. His eyes stared at her with an undetermined intent. She felt as if she were going to lose her mind the longer she was around him. Those feelings she had fought so hard to forget building more and more the longer she was alone with him. “I hate you.” She sighed. “No. That’s a lie. I’m crazy about you. It’s frustrating. It’s…” She watched as he stood, closing the short distance between them. “Reject me.” She stepped back, bumping into the metal table she had yet to clean. “Reject me so I can take my heart ache and leave.”
Luca’s calloused hand moved to cup the side of her head, its warmth radiating against the area behind her ear. “Reject me Luca.” She took in a breath and she held up, looking up at him through her lashes. “Please Luca…”
“I can’t reject you.” He mumbled as he leaned in, swallowing thickly. “I’d be a fuckin’ idiot if I did.” As if a net keeping all of her ability to resist was cut open, she melted against him. One of her hands rested against his toned bicep as the other held the wrist of the hand that was holding her head. He pulled her flush against him, making her head swim. Their kiss grew heavier, their lips dancing against one another but he ultimately had taken the lead.
She looked down as she tried to catch her breath, Luca’s breath fanning forehead as his thumb gently rubbed against the skin behind her ear. She finally looked up at him, hoping that he couldn’t hear the way her heart thundered against her ribs. “I’ve dreamt of doing that for a while.” She mumbled, a smile forming on both of their lips.
“I’m glad I’m not the only one.” He huffed, leaning in to feel her plump lips against his again. “So soft..” He kissed her again. “So sweet.” His large hand moved towards her lower back, causing her to shiver against his touch. She pressed her face into his chest as she involuntarily arched against him. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”
“No.” She responds, looking at him. “Don’t stop.”
“Fuck..” He sighed. “And you say I’m the frustrating one?”
“Luca?”
“Hm?”
“Can we go.. back to your place? I have to share a boat with Marcus and it would be really awkward if you walked in with me.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, his breaths growing heavier. “Because if you come back to my place, I won’t wanna leave in the mornin’.” She nodded a little too quickly, a smile forming on his lips. “Alright.”
Luca’s apartment wasn’t too far from the Restaurant. It was larger than she expected, the decor minimalistic and neutral. Though the sun had already set, the view outside had still been beautiful. He tossed his keys on the island as they passed the kitchen, his eyes still on her as she admired his home. She looked back at him, noticing the darkening look in his eyes as he slowly stalked towards her. She turned to face him fully as she stepped back with a smirk forming on his lips. “Are you still sure about this?” He asked as he pulled his hoodie off.
“Yes.” She said softly as she returned his smile.
“One more step and you’ll be in the bedroom.” He pointed out as he stopped walking.
“Oh..” She looked back before meeting his gaze again. “I knew that.” She kept her smile as she took another step back, fully entering the bedroom. Luca felt himself slowly losing his will power as he stared at her. “What’s that look for?” She asked almost innocently.
As if a switch was flipped, Luca pulled his hoodie off with his shirt following suit. His shoes had already been off and at the door with hers. He easily scooped her up and walked her over to the bed. “Maybe you’re not all that sweet.” He grumbled as he looked up at her. He placed her on his bed and sat back on his feet to admire the woman on his bed. “Definitely not all sweet.” He moved to hover over her with a small smile forming on his face.
“What?” She asks curiously.
“You’re breathtakin’.” He leaned forward, kissing her softly. He moved his hands to hold her face, the gentleness slowly intensifying.
When he wasn’t kissing her, he watched her every move. The way her hands slowly removed her shirt and revealed more of her skin to him. She looked embarrassed. Adorable. He thought to himself as he moved in to leave open mouthed kisses on the exposed parts of her body. They were hot but the chill of the air that followed left goosebumps all over.
Her hands found their way into his golden strands when his intense kisses led to where she had created the most heat. She still had her underwear on but the dampened material didn’t leave much to the imagination. “Luca..” She breathed. It came out as a small whine as if pleading for him to do more.
“Yes, sweetness?” He questioned as his breath gently cooled her underwear with each word.
“Don’t.. tease.” She pushed her hips upwards, watching as his eyes darkened. “Please..”
“Say it.” He demanded softly. “What do you want?”
“You. I want you.” She pouted.
“You want me?” He asked as he pressed more open mouth kisses against her heat. “What do you want me to do to you?” His eyes were locked with hers, relishing in her reaction.
“Take them off..” She furrowed her brows in anticipation as his hands moved towards the band of her underwear, the pads of his fingers ghosting over the barrier keeping him from touching her fully as he continued giving her needy cunt sloppy kisses. His tongue licked a strip against her with enough pressure that it sent a jolt through her entire being.
“I don’t think I want to take them off just yet.” He grumbled. One of his hands moved to rest on her pubis and his thumb rubbing lazy circles around her clit while the fingers on his other hand continued to tease her waistband. “Wanna savor the moment.” He mumbled before leaning in to kiss and lick her against her.
Her frustrated moans and whimpers filled the room as he continued to tease and pleasure her through her underwear. Her hand gripped and tugged at his hair, her mind emptying with every minute that passed and her need for physical contact growing at a steady rapid pace.
He enjoyed watching her squirm and writhe though he hadn’t touched her directly. Her underwear, now soaked in her essence and his saliva had become a hindrance to his enjoyment. And when he began to pull the ruined material down, she was all too eager to lift her hips. “Eager bunny.” He chuckled, before returning between her legs. He didn’t waste time tasting her, finally coming to the end of his torture. He let out a low growl as he lapped up her juices greedily. His eyes had been closed, giving her the chance to try and ground herself but when she lifted her head to watch him those captivating eyes had ensnared her again. He moved his hand up her body, slow and with purpose. Her breathing grew heavier as she couldn’t help but watch as his tattooed arms and hands moved. His hands carefully squeezing and kneading her breasts as if she were the mound of dough he had been touching earlier in the day. He pulled her bra down and toyed with them, pinching and tugging on her nipples before rolling them between his fingers. Luca groaned as he enjoyed the way she grew wetter. He had thought about what she would be like in bed. About whether she tasted as good as she looked and he was happy he got the chance. He came to the conclusion that if she’d allowed it, he’d eat her out from sunrise to sunset. But in this very moment, he needed to feel her around his cock more than ever.
Luca pushed himself up, licking his lips as he looked down at the mess he had created between her legs. He pressed the pad of his fingers against her dripping slit, he gathered saliva in his mouth before spitting it out on his index and middle digits. It wasn’t as if she needed it, but fuck was it a sight when he did it. He pressed his fingers deeper and smirked as her walls fluttered around him before fully clenching. “You like the way that feels?”
“Y-yes..” She stopped herself from grabbing his wrist, from touching him in any way even though he hadn’t told her she wasn’t allowed to. He watched the way her thighs shook as she brought her legs up to try and close. “L-Luca.. ah..” He moved closer, gently pushing one of her legs so she could open up for him. She had already been lost in pleasure before and now she found herself slipping back into it. She opened her legs wider as she felt her orgasm slowly building, wanting to chase that high. “I’m gonna..”
“Go ahead, sweetness.” He moved his free hand between her legs, rubbing her clit as he helped her along.
“I-I’m about to..” Her body tensed as the coil tightened in the pit of her stomach. She looked at him as if she were pleading for him to allow her to climax even though he already gave her the go ahead.
“Atta girl.” He leaned towards her, kissing her and swallowing her moans as she gushed around his thick digits. “Cum for me.” Luca hummed as she tightened and fluttered. He positioned himself between her legs, wiping the cum on his fingers against the tip of his cock. “Can I?” He asked, the head of his thick cock resting against her entrance. She leaned up on her elbows the best she could, nodding. “Say it for me.” He held the back of her head as he looked into her eyes again. He could get lost in them so easily, would do anything she requested if she looked him in the eyes. He moved closer.
“Please put it in.” She said softly. “I want to feel you inside.” She gasped when he pushed into her, the initial stretch incomparable to his fingers.
He was gentle with her, working his way inside before he bottomed out. He pulled himself out and silently shook his head before pushing back in. “Fuck~” Luca bit his bottom lip as he pushed deeper before pulling out again. “Why do you feel this good?” His question was rhetorical but she still shrugged in response and earned a chuckle. “And you’re cute.” Luca set a steady deep pace as he tried to keep himself from getting lost in her. His head spun as his need grew, making it a difficult feat. She moaned beneath him, her hands gripping the duvet. He grabbed the backs of her knees and closed her legs, sighing at the change in feeling. He placed her ankles on his shoulder, kissing the side of her calf as his pace changed. He bit his bottom lip as he watched the way her tits bounced with each of his thrusts. He cupped her cheek then pressed his thumb against her soft lips. She sucked on it, gently biting it as she stared up at him. Fuck.. He felt as if he could cum if he continued to stare at the beautiful woman beneath him. Her walls fluttered around him when he changed his angle. “Luca..” She drew out a needy whine. “There..” She gasped when he hit the same spot again. “R-Right there.”
“There?” He questioned with a smirk. “What’ll happen right there baby?” He asked, quickening his pace.
“L-Luca I’m…” Her orgasm rippled through her when he rubbed her clit again, tight circles with pressure that drove her crazy. She arched and writhed beneath him as the extra stimulation made it too much for her. She grabbed his wrist as she tried to push him away, whimpering weakly.
“Not yet.” He grabbed her wrist and pinned it against her underbelly as he continued to fuck her. She continued to try and push his hand away as tears began to well up in her eyes. “Just a little longer.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers as he kept his pace. “Where can I-” She wrapped herself around him without thinking, biting his shoulder when he let out a low bellow that vibrated from his chest to hers. His hips snapping forward as his hot cum shot inside her. Luca plops down on top of her, his face against her chest as they both catch their breaths.
They laid there in silence, Luca’s eyes closed as she stared up at the ceiling in silence. His thumb gently rubbed against her waistline. He slowly pushed up to get off of her but she wrapped her arms around him to stop him. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, looking at her with slight worry in his eyes.
“I don’t want to let go yet.” She mumbled, her eyes still on the ceiling. She mentally cursed herself for how clingy she became. But she worried that if she did let him go, she’d be back at square one.
“How about..” He moved to sit up, able to get out of her hold. “We shower and then get some sleep?” He easily moved off the bed, holding his hand out for her to take. They smiled at each other when she took it. He easily picked her up and walked into the bathroom.
She walked into the restaurant first, thanking Luca as he held the door open for her. She went straight to the back to get changed before heading to her station. “Hey, good morning Chef.” Marcus said as he moved a bag of flour to a different table.
“Good morning Chef.” She cleared her throat, tying her apron around her waist.
“Hey.. I don’t wanna be weird or anything but you didn’t come back to the boat last night.” He spoke low, leaning forward a little.
“Yeah.” She nodded, smiling to herself as she tried to keep her eyes on the task in front of her rather than giving in to the urge to watch Luca.
“Are you okay?” He questioned, still curious.
“Yeah. Just needed to take care of some things.” She smiled at him, her eyes locking with Luca as he easily picked up a heavy bag of flour and placed it on the counter. He looked over at her, a small smirk forming on his lips before he focused on what he had been doing.
“Aah.. take care of some things. Okay.” He repeated, laughing to himself. She shoved him away as she tried to hide the embarrassment that tried to settle.
“I’m not about to play with you.” She laughed to herself before going back to prepping her station.
“Think you can handle the cream for today too, Chef?” Luca asked as he placed heavy whipping cream next to her along with a chilled metal bowl.
“Yes, Chef.” She nodded as she tried to keep herself composed when his hand gently brushed against hers.
“When you’re finished, help Marcus with the dough.”
“You got it, Chef.” She poured the cream into the chilled bowl and began to work.
“What are you doin’ tonight?” He asked softly, crossing his arms. She looked at him, unable to hide the excitement in her eyes.
“Probably catching up on sleep.” He grinned and crossed his arms.
“How do you feel about me making you dinner tonight?”
“Sure.” She tried to sound nonchalant but couldn’t help herself. “I’ll have to tell Marcus I’m not going to the boat tonight.”
“You’re staying on a boat?” He questioned, his eyebrow peaked in curiosity.
“Yeah.”
Luca watched as she turned her attention back to the whipping cream, his eyes lingering on the hickey peeking out from under her collar. Maybe instead of actual food, she’d allow him to have his fill off of her.
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cloudy-em · 8 months
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Luca x Reader - cam girl SMUT
warnings: 18+, fem!reader, lingerie, dirty talk, online sex, toys, sub!reader, mild voyeurism, masturbation, light sir & chef kink
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
When Luca first discovered Y/N's cam page, he closed his laptop and pushed it away. She was his coworker, the saucier, and he wasn't sure he could face her in the kitchen if he jerked his dick to her videos. But he couldn't help the way his cock throbbed more in his pants. He had always found her quite attractive, and she would never even know if he had watched her videos or not.
So, he opened his laptop again, tugging down his pants and boxers, and clicking on her first video.
She wore a dark red lingerie set, the lace hiding her breasts and mound from view.
"I've waited all day to see you," Y/N's voice purred through the tiny laptop speakers. "I'm so needy without you, d'you wanna see?" Luca found himself whispering a "yes" in response, knowing fully well she couldn't hear him. But she began to strip on the screen, her tits on full display. Luca's cock strained, and he teased the head, wishing he could play with those beautiful tits, worship them with his mouth. He watched in awe as she stripped the panties as well, her soft pussy visibly wet and a cute red jewel tucked tightly into her ass. He watched as she grabbed the dildo from off screen running the length up her cunt to collect her wetness.
She spread her legs for the camera to view, and Luca could only focus on what it would be like to eat her for hours, keeping that beautiful cunt wet 24/7 for his use.
"Ah," her voice echoed through his bedroom. "You're so big, sir!" He watched her tight pussy struggle to take the dildo at first, having to work it into herself. Luca thought about destroying her with his size, her pussy would gush just to try and take his whole cock. She'd feel it in her stomach while he fucked her, moaning nothing but his name. On the screen, she thrusted the dildo in her cunt.
"Oh fuck, please sir, please cum inside me!" she begged over and over again. "Cum inside my pussy please!" Luca tugged his dick harder, growling aloud in his empty apartment, promising to fill her hungry pussy with his load. He imager her calling him chef instead of sir, and he only felt his cock get harder. He released on his hand, jerking himself beyond his orgasm.
He felt dirty masturbating to his coworker, but he couldn't help but feel it might've been the best orgasm of his life.
Thus began his ritualistic masturbation to her videos every evening after leaving the restaurant.
xxxxxxxxx
part 2???
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bleulone · 10 months
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TO BUILD AGAIN
a Chef Luca fanfiction | Fandom: The Bear. Rating: Mature/Explicit. Status: On going. Slow updates. Type: Multi-Chapters, Pre Canon. Tags: Chef Luca/Orginal Female Character, Disability, Angst and Feels, Character Study, Eventual Smut, Family and Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Mature Themes, Mentions of Depression, Romance, Romantic and Sexual Tension, Romantic drama with a happy ending, Slow-burn, Strangers to Reluctant chef partners to Friends to Lovers, Sharing Cultures, Self-Love, Traveling.
SOFIA “WARDA” FILALI, a culinary superstar, conquered the hearts of many as the darling of a renowned French cooking reality show. Blessed with her distinct approach to molecular cuisine, adorned with a razor-sharp wit and a smile that could bewitch hearts, she seemed destined for a life of triumph and acclaim. However, tragedy struck when, almost a year after opening her celebrated Parisian restaurant, Radiance, a stroke left her with a devastating loss: the use of her left arm. Despite the hope of rehabilitation, Warda faced a daunting reality.
IN THE MIDST OF HER STRUGGLES, Warda discovered solace in her long-forgotten passions of writing and drawing. Setting off on a globe-trotting adventure to craft her upcoming book and explore the depths of her personal creativity, her journey led her to the enchanting city of Copenhagen—a place of significant memories from her youth.
LITTLE DID WARDA ANTICIPATES the reunion with Luca, the effortlessly cool and tattooed pastry chef with whom she had shared countless trials and joys during their time together in Cannes and Casablanca. Unforeseen was the rekindling of a distant yet familiar warmth, awakening something deep within her and resurrecting a unique flavor of solace she never thought possible.
• Read HERE on ao3 • Listen to the playlist HERE •
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bunnywritesmarvel · 10 months
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anyone wanna drop some short luca smut requests into my inbox?? 👀
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pantherxrogers · 10 months
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Anything you want - Luca x Reader One-Shot (18+ ONLY)
Content warnings: SMUT (18+ only), fingering, explicit language, dirty talk, slight choking (but not really)
Synopsis: Relationships are all about balance right? Luca lends the reader a hand after a rough day at work.
A/N: I can't stay away from my favorite baker for long 🤪 This was super fun for me to write, so I hope y'all enjoy it! My requests are wide open <3
WHY IS IT SO HARD TO FIND LUCA GIFS 🤒
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"That poor pasta," Luca teases, watching the way you roughly knead the dough. It's his attempt at easing the tension in your shoulders, but he's met with a half-hearted sigh.
Normally, when you guys cook dinner together, the conversation flows and a warm energy fills the air. Tonight, he's lucky if he gets two words out of you.
"Sorry, it's almost ready for resting," you murmur, not catching onto his attempted joke.
He shifts around the large, marble island in your shared kitchen to stand beside you. Shoulder to shoulder, he watches the way your hands angrily work the dough, like a punishment. Reaching down to the lower cabinets, he grabs a large bowl, easing the dough out of your hands.
"Well, we should give it a half hour before you give it another beating," he jokes, wanting to see the light in your eyes again. He knows you had a rough work day, but you brush him off when he asks for details.
He figured your favorite meal might ease your stress, but he has another trick up his sleeve anyway. He goes to place the pasta in the fridge, your eyes following his path.
The worn, blue t-shirt, stretches across his muscular frame, a welcome contrast to his tanned skin. His loose pajama bottoms hang low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of his defined v-line as he turns to make his way towards you.
When you're in arm's reach, he loops an arm around your waist pulling you in close. His blue eyes drop to the dip in your tank top, briefly distracted by the way your chest presses against his own.
Before he can speak, you hungrily press your lips against his own, wanting to get lost in his affection. The surprise catches him off guard for a moment, before he's matching your actions. Your tongue brushes against his own, as your hands rake through his golden hair. Your nipples poke against his chest, causing the blood to rush towards his cock, but he can't ignore the elephant in the room.
"Woah, woah, woah," he gasps, pulling away to read your expression. Your full lips are parted when you stare back with wide eyes.
You attempt to pull away, suddenly feeling vulnerable, not used to your boyfriend denying you. "S-sorry", you stutter, feeling embarrassed by your actions.
"It's okay, babe, really," he asserts, reassuring you in the way pulls you back into him. "I just want to know what's bothering you. I hate to see you upset," he confesses, stroking your lower back beneath your tank.
The frustration builds again, and you know you shouldn't take it out on your boyfriend, but he's only making you feel worse.
"I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?" you snap back at him, pulling out of his embrace. You all but stomp away, finding a nonexistent flaw in the counter tops to pick at.
Suddenly, you're enveloped by warmth as Luca hugs you from behind, pinning you between his firm body and the oversized island. It's meant to be a comforting embrace, and it is, but you're slightly distracted by his hardness pressing against you.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, chin resting atop your head, "I don't mean to push you to talk when you aren't ready," he soothes, gently swaying your bodies side to side.
"It's okay. I'm sorry I snapped at you like that," you respond. He dips his head to press apologetic kisses into your neck. The sensation causes a tingle in your lower tummy and goosebumps spread along your skin.
"It's just stupid work stuff. I'd rather focus on something else," you sigh as his hands ghost over your hips. You gently push back against him, nuzzling into his strong chest.
You're met with the subtle grind of his hips against your backside. Both of your pajama bottoms suddenly feel like a barrier between the two of you. You're feeling warm all over, needing more of whatever your lover has to offer.
"Anything you want," he places a kiss behind your ear, "it's yours". You attempt to turn around in his arms, but a gentle squeeze of your hips keeps you trapped in place. His movements are more intentional now, his slow grind making your panties dampen.
"Anything?" you huff out, pushing back to meet the growing bulge that's pressing against your ass. He murmurs a confirmation, sliding his hands up to your breasts, toying with your nipples through your thin top.
"Do you want my hands here?" his voice rumbles in your ear, rough hands massaging your boobs. He cradles the flesh, before using his thumbs to bring both nipples to a peak.
A soft moan eases out of your lips as he moves to tease you under your shirt, drawing circles around your senstive nipples. He dips his head down to suck on the side of your neck, causing that warm shiver to roll down your spine. Your body further relaxes against his own, lulling your head back.
"Answer me, sweet girl," he chides, the commanding tone in his voice making you even wetter.
"N-no, not there," you gasp out, just as he softly tugs at your nipples.
"No?" he playfully mocks, making his way towards the band of your pants. Goosebumps follow the path of his hands, anticipation building in your stomach. You can't help the moan that slips out when he dips his hand into your pants, stroking you over your panties.
"Oh, maybe you wanted me here," he chuckles, using his middle and index fingers to tease the outside of your pussy.
"S-shit, yes," you huff, hips messily grind upwards, needing more friction. You reach out to grab the island, steadying yourself.
He pulls you back towards him, needing to feel your body against his own. He uses one hand to toy with your nipple again, while the other finally dips into your panties.
"Fuck, I should've known my sweet girl needed me to rub her little pussy, hmm?" he coos, dipping into the wetness at your entrance. He drags his fingers upwards to toy with your nub.
You're hot all over, unable to focus on anything that isn't Luca. The hard length of him pressing into your ass, like he can't wait to get inside of you. The way his rough hand pinches and massages your breast, adding to your pleasure. The borderline overwhelming feeling of his fingers drawing slow circles on your clit, making your eyes roll back.
"M-more, Luca please," you beg, grinding your clit against his calloused fingers. He presses a hot, opened-mouth kiss to your neck that makes you whine out.
"I know, baby, I'm going to give it to you," he soothes.
His fingers are firm against your clit now, the pressure building in the pit of your tummy. He uses one hand to lift your top over your boobs, the cold air making your nipples tighten, as you clench around nothing.
"Fuck, look at those pretty tits," he groans out, earning a louder moan from you, as he sucks on the sensitive area of your neck. You can feel the way his eyes are locked on your boobs, like he's in a trance, and it makes you feel even sexier.
He strokes you up and down, messily spreading your wetness around, toying with your entrance. He chuckles when you whine, unable to take any more teasing.
"Ugh, shit," you sigh, finally feeling the stretch of his finger inside you. He's using a thumb on your clit now, slowly stretching you open with his pointer finger.
"Do you like that, darling?" His deep voice voice goes straight to your core, his accent thickened by arousal.
"Y-yes, I love it." Your high pitched whine makes him even harder, bucking his hips into the plush of your ass.
"Fuck, you're so wet," he groans, the huffs you're letting out making it harder for him to focus. You cry out, his filthy words pushing you towards the edge.
Both of you are panting now, but Luca's determined to keep his attention focused on you. He eases another finger into your entrance, just as your walls flutter around the first.
"You like that? Like the way I'm stretching you out?" You cave at his words, leaking wetness into his wide palm. Your walls start to clench around him, a telltale sign of your incoming orgasm.
"Yes, shit, I'm getting close," you slur, only able to focus on the smooth glide of Luca's fingers and the steady pressure against your aching clit.
"Come whenever you want to, baby, you deserve it." The unexpected softness in his voice makes you clench around his fingers, the waves of your orgasm coming in.
Luca speeds up, drawing tight circles on your bud, making it hard to hold off your orgasm. As you turn your head to the side, you're met with a heated kiss. His tongue snakes into your mouth, stroking against your own. He uses his other hand to cradle your neck, applying a gentle pressure there, knowing it'll send you over the edge.
You're dizzy with lust when the cord snaps, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. Luca swallows your moans, like he can't get enough, his mouth delving into yours. Both of you messily work your tongue against the others. Your soft whimpers are making him feel lightheaded.
Your orgasm feels like it's lasting forever, Luca slowly fucking you with his fingers to maximize your pleasure. He eases off of your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you.
By the time you've come down from your high your head rests against his chest, panting from your orgasm.
"Well, fuck," you giggle out, feeling lighter than you have all day. The rumble of Luca's chest behind you only making you laugh harder. He feels the relief all over his body, finally seeing that smile back on your face. Well, maybe not all over.
You're spinning around in his grip, reaching for his waistband before his mind can catch up.
"Maybe we'll just order in tonight," is the last thing he hears before he's closing his eyes, relishing in the feeling of your hand stroking his length.
..................................................................
Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added/removed):
@nolita-fairytale @wakandamama @wakandama2 @blowmymbackout @douceurrrr @mercang @eddiemunsonreader @cryobabyy @superhoeva @kdoxkeic @notmocca @live-love-be-unique
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superhoeva · 3 months
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𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬
❧ 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ⇁ 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍 “𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐘” 𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐙𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎 𝐱 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐱 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐒
❛ Copenhagen, Denmark. The home of a young Carmen, Luca, and Reader as they help each other navigate through a young adulthood of preservation, unresolved trauma, and unexpected love. ❜
❧ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 ⇁ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎 "𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐄" 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐱 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
❛ Sexologist Francisco Morales has been given the green light to lead a scientific, seven-week study of the female orgasm and its effect on the body. You have agreed to be his test subject. ❜
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❧ 𝐀𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑 ⇁ 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍 "𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐘" 𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐙𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊!𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
❛ The life of Bunny and her boyfriend Bear. ❜
⋆ hair
⋆ couch
⋆ gentleman
𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬/𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
𝐈: 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 ⇁ crying | first kiss | ladder | nickname | first sight
𝐈𝐈: 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⇁ hot girl bunny | how long have they been together? | hand creams | carmen's hot gf | nervous!carmen | bunny and richie | carmen's tattoos | bunny's favorite spot | bunny's tattoos | birthaversary | favorite things | grizzly bear | why the tears? | nurse!carmen | come home pt. 1 | sick!bunny | easter eggs | sidewalk rule | punch | pretty boy
𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ⇁ coming soon!
𝐈𝐕: 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 ⇁ coming soon!
𝐕: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ⇁ coming soon!
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⋆ 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐧 "𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲" 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨
deep (+18)
v-lines (+18)
dance (+18)
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more coming soon! <3
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give me a minute (2/2) | chef luca
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pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: established former relationship, discussions of separation and divorce, discussions of moving on, luca and reader has a son, brief mention of blood and minor injury, smut 18+ (fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, size kink? idk luca's big, dirty talk, creampie) notes: it's finally here! thank you everyone for your patience, i am a slow writer by nature and life gets in the way, but i finally got around to finish it! happy reading, and do comment, reblog, and send me asks to tell me what you think <;3 ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted for my latest fics ✨
<<< read part 1 here >>>
06.13 PM
Your apartment has never felt so claustrophobic after that little moment you shared with Luca. You try to stay busy in the next hour —tidying up Alfie’s room even after he made it up, checking your email four times, even doing the laundry, for fuck’s sake— as Luca keeps to himself in the kitchen area. Whether Alfie is obliviously enjoying his screen time or purposely ignoring the weird tension between his parents, you’re not entirely sure. Right now, you’re just grateful that he’s not saying anything at the moment.
The boy simply creeps up to the kitchen counter with a shy eagerness about him. “How long ‘til dinner, Dad?”
“3 more minutes, Chef,” Luca answers, focused on the task at hand, so poker-faced that it makes his son giggle.
“I’m not a chef, you’re a chef!”
“Well, where I work, we call everyone in the kitchen ‘chef.’ Out of respect.”
Alfie climbs onto the dining bench in interest, peering up to watch his father set the dish on the plates meticulously. Luca doesn’t miss how the boy deeply inhales the delicious smell in the air.
“Smells yummy.”
“Thank you,” Luca replies, his excitement seems muted although his heart is soaring. He looks up to find Alfie staring at the plate, chin propped up on his little fist. You’ve always said that he looks just like his dad, but in that moment, Luca only sees you. Alfie has the way your mouth tugs ever so slightly into a smile, the way your eyes shine in childlike wonder. In quiet thoughtfulness.
No Michelin star, earned or retained, would ever amount to this.
“Can you go get your mum and tell her dinner’s ready, please?” He softly asks Alfie, as if not wanting to disrupt this peaceful silence. “Thank you, Chef.”
“Yes, chef.” The six-year-old salutes him and pads over to your home office, which doubles as the guest bedroom. The door is open, and he sees you reorganizing the linen closet with your back to him. He hugs you from behind, startling you.
“Oh!” You put your hand on his head, stroking him lightly. “Hey, bub.”
“Daddy told me to come get you and say dinner’s ready.”
“Gotcha. Thank you.” You half-expect him to run off like he usually does, but he lingers, his arms still wrapped around you. “What’s up, bubbie?”
“Nothing.” He buries his face against your side. “Love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, bubbie.” This makes you smile, pleasantly surprised at this seemingly random admission.
“Love Daddy too, but don’t tell him that,” he whispers as he looks up at you, putting his forefinger in front of his mouth.
“Why not?”
“Sometimes he gets sad when I say that,” he murmurs. “He doesn’t tell me, but I know it.”
Oh. His playful exterior sometimes makes you forget just how emotionally sensitive he is. And it breaks your heart that he can see through the complicated adult emotions with his childlike eyes. 
“Alfie…” you level with him and pull him closer, “Your dad loves you very very much, and I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that. He’s just sad because… he’s been away, and he misses you a lot.”
“He should come home, then.”
It’s so simple, the way Alfie puts it. His Dad comes home and reunites with him and you, and his puzzle would piece together perfectly again. And you all live happily ever after. The end.
The truth, of course, is not so simple. But maybe, just for tonight… Maybe you and Luca can sacrifice a few of your own puzzle pieces. For your baby boy.
So you get back on your feet and guide your son out of the room. “Come on, bub. Let’s see what Daddy cooked for us, hm?”
When you and Alfie turn the corner into the kitchen-living area, Luca is wiping the side of the plate neatly. He smiles at you somewhat nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, so you throw him the figurative olive branch.
“Smells amazing,” you compliment him as you and Alfie take your seats. “What are we having, Chef?”
Luca’s eyes light up and your heart stops. You stopped calling him ‘Chef’ long ago, when the moniker became synonymous with workaholism and neglect. But there’s no venom in the way you say it tonight. Call him sentimental, but it reminds him of the early summer days in the tiny apartment you first shared in Chicago.
Of blueberry pies and barely there bumps.
He has to remind himself that this whole ‘happy family’ shtick is just a charade now, it’s all for Alfie, it doesn’t mean anything for the two of us, but he can’t help but miss this.
And little does he know, so do you.
“Well, buckle up, you guys, because we are having…” He carries the plates over and serves it to you and Alfie with a flourish, “Baked sweet potato wedges with Mediterranean dip, and our pièce-de-résistance… Alfie’s Nuggies.”
It looks nothing short of beautiful, with the wedges fanned out like autumn leaves underneath a colorful burst of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, and feta cheese. The chicken nuggets are rich golden brown against the brilliant white plate. The splatters of sauce (is that Tahini?) is a hint of thoughtful chaos on the dish.
Your six-year-old let out a little noise of awe and amazement next to you, but no sound escapes you—not for the longest time.
“This is…” you look up at Luca as if he would have the word you���re looking for.
But his blue eyes just look a lot like I love you.
“Thank you,” you ultimately say, with absolutely no pretense whatsoever.
And if he does hear an ‘I love you’ hidden somewhere in there… he hopes he’s not imagining things.
*** 
08:37 PM
If you could travel just a few hours back in time and tell yourself that you would spend the whole day stuck at home in a nasty storm with your son and his father that you’re divorcing—and that you’d be okay with it, you would’ve probably scheduled yourself an MRI scan because clearly something is wrong.
But the night is winding down. Luca is tucking Alfie into bed for the first time in months. You are washing dishes in the quiet accompaniment of steady rain and running water, and everything feels just right.
“He’s out like a light,” Luca informs you quietly as he reemerges from Alfie’s bedroom and stops right by the kitchen counter. “Need a hand?”
“Nah, I’m just about done,” you casually wave him off. “You want anything to drink?”
“Uh… what do you got?”
“Scotch, gin…” you pause, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. The sink tap squeaks a little as you shut it off. “...wine.”
His heart skips. Don’t overthink it, he reminds himself. “Red or white?”
“Take your pick,” you shrug nonchalantly. 
Luca reaches up to see the bottles of wine you have in store, and you try not to pay too much attention as his shirt rides up around the waist—or the sleeve, showing off the remnants of Alfie’s crayon work over his inks… you’re just two co-parents hanging out. It’s normal, right?
“What about the Malbec?” he eventually chooses, taking out the bottle.
He’s always loved Malbec—this particular brand of Malbec you brought him when he first invited you for dinner on your third date.
Don’t overthink it, you remind yourself. “Yeah, sure.”
You pick up two wine glasses and set them down on the dining table, shuffling into the corner bench. Luca settles into the other bench, directly against the kitchen counter, pouring the wine onto both glasses.
“How many bedtime stories did Alfie manage to get out of you?” you pipe up, swirling the purplish liquid around.
“Just one…” he sips on his wine thoughtfully. “Although he made me read it three times.”
You smile, bemused. “Which one was it?”
“‘The Bear Who Did.’”
“Ah, yeah. He’s been into that one lately,” you muse. “But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you to tuck him in tonight.”
The two of you exchange a soft look. A ceasefire. A truce, at least when it comes to your son. Because you really do want Luca to have a good relationship with Alfie.
“Me too.”
“And I’m sorry you had to… make do with spending the day with Alfie here.”
He shakes his head softly. “Nah, don’t be. I had a good time. It’s nice to just hang out… at home.”
At home, the words echo in your head.
With you, they echo in his, loud and unsaid.
“So, uh… how have you been?”
“Ah, you know how it is. Work is kicking my ass—my current client’s only two blocks away, but the house is a total fixer-upper, and Alfie’s… Alfie.” You don’t want to backtalk your own son, although you both know how trying he can be sometimes. “But it’s all good. My mom helps out with Alfie, and Jess insists that I go out and live a little every now and again.”
“And do you? Live a little?”
“I mean, within reason. I can’t go clubbing ‘til 4am anymore. I think I’m getting old…” you stretch your arms, feeling that soreness just from your daily activities.
Luca grins, raising his glass. “I hear you. I don’t even really go out anymore.”
“Seriously?” 
“Mm-hm.”
You make an incredulous face. It would make sense for you not to go out much, with Alfie and everything. But he was alone, abroad… “Why, though?”
He just shrugs lightly. “I’m working. Whenever I’m off, I mostly just… eat or sleep.”
“I somehow find that hard to believe.” You take a dubious sip. You both know how much Luca enjoys grabbing a cheeky pint. He’s British; it’s in his blood, goddammit.
“Oh come on…”
“You don’t even go out drinking or whatever? Meet people?”
His gaze flashes towards you almost playfully. “Do you?”
Your face falls, not expecting to be caught so off-guard with such an innocent question. And upon seeing that, his face falls. Shit. And with that, the air between you shifts so dramatically.
Stupidly, you still try to save the conversation. “Of course my friends and I go out—”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice darkens, his blue eyes piercing through you. 
This conversation is a long time coming. It’s a natural progression of your relationship—or the lack thereof. You separate, you get divorced, and eventually you move on. Two years is a more than acceptable time to start dating again. And still, you phrase out your next words very carefully.
“I’ve been on dates here and there…”
Luca sucks in a slow, calculated breath. “Does Alfie know?”
You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious so far.”
He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that it’s nothing serious, or that you’re holding out for something serious in the future.
“Look, we both know this is happening sooner or later…”
“I know,” he quickly recovers—or as much as he can recover. He just stares down the stem of his glass.  “It just… It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”
“I understand.” The wine feels like gravel down your throat, and the words coming out of your mouth feel like throwing up a boulder.
“Because I do miss you.”
Your eyes immediately dart over to his, as if you’re not sure you heard it right. “Luca…”
“I miss you everyday. I miss us. I miss everything we used to have.”
Your heart catches—no, stops altogether at his admission. “Luca, we can’t do this anymo—”
He swallows thickly, his jaw setting as he braces himself. “I’ve been thinking about it everyday—the whole time I’m away, and frankly, I’m kicking myself over not telling you this sooner.”
“That’s probably just the homesickness talking.” You turn away. This can’t be possible. This can’t be happening. What the fuck?! “It got you reminiscing about the good old days. Give it time, you’ll come around.” You try to maintain a neutral, distant, cold approach to this, although the crack in your voice betrays you.
“No. That’s not it.”
“Then what the fuck is it?”
Your words cut through the quiet apartment like a flash bang. Luca stops dead in his tracks in his shock, and honestly, so do you. Awful silence hushes over the room, and both of you are almost too afraid to break it. Neither of you even dare to move.
After what seems like forever, Luca moves first. A tear escapes his eye, and he wipes it away with his knuckle hurriedly. “Noma should’ve been a dream. And it is, in a way. I guess.” He stares blankly ahead, his life in Copenhagen replaying in his head like it’s on fast-forward, and the playback seems to just highlight how lonely he is there. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly miserable there. I get up and go to work and I just feel empty. Because what’s the point? You and Alfie are way over here, being a family while I’m… doing what?” He wants to tear his hair out, because this is everything he’s dreamed of, and yet he is living the stuff of nightmares. “It makes no fucking sense.”
It makes even less sense to you. You can’t even begin to process this tangled mess in your head. “Luca… we are almost officially divorced. You’re telling me this now? When everything is—”
“I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I should just… let you cut your losses and—”
“The best for me? How the fuck did you think giving up was the best way forward for me?” The thought of it burns your eyes with angry tears. They melt, and you don’t do a thing to stop it from running down your face. “You didn’t think to fight for us while you still could?”
Luca’s heart aches to see that. He is dying to reach out and wipe them away, but he can’t. His voice is quiet and small and almost childlike. “I tried. You were just so… sure about the divorce. You had it all figured out. And I… I thought you had no room for me anymore.”
“I had to keep it together. I had to figure it out—for Alfie’s sake. For mine.” You stare at your little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “I don’t see the point in being vulnerable with you anymore when you’re already set on leaving.”
The words have run out. The whirlwind of emotions has passed. What he feels and what he wants is now very clear.
“I shouldn’t have left.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” You wished he didn’t. Everyday for the last two years. And everyday you set yourself up for disappointment because, the truth of the matter is, he did leave. So you stop wishing. “Because I don’t know how to come back from this. I really don’t.”
Nothing that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. But it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it from the horse’s mouth. “It’s just… seeing you guys today… We were a family again. And I would do anything for us to be a family again. Please.”
You sigh heavily. “What else is there to do, Luca…?”
“We can, I don’t know, figure something out, go to couples counseling—”
You groan in frustration, Jesus Christ not this again, wanting to tear your hair out when— CRASH! You accidentally knock over your wine glass and it shatters as it hits the floor. “Shit…”
“Mommy?” Alfie calls you from inside his room, sleepy but alert.
The two of you freeze just before you can move out of your seat. Afraid the slightest of noises would rattle your son.
“Yes, bubbie?” you try to sound bright and normal. Maybe if you can convince him that everything’s fine, he won’t come running in panic. 
“What was that?”
“I just knocked over a glass, kiddo, everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
You and Luca wait a few seconds with bated breath. One, two, three… ten seconds go by, and there’s no movement in the bedroom.
The coast is clear.
You scramble down to pick up the shards of glass. The spilled wine looks like blood in the dim light of the room. It’s a painful reminder of the broken pieces of your former life, the casualties. He quickly follows suit, as if struggling to put it all back together. The irony is not lost on either of you, you’re sure of that.
“It’s fine, Luca. I got it, I—” a sharp piece of glass accidentally cuts your palm as you pick it up in hurry. “Fuck!”
“You okay?” He takes your hand as quick as lightning, wanting to inspect the wound, but you snatch it away.
“I’m fine.” You get up on your feet, teetering over to the sink, away from the crime scene, careful not to step on any piece of glass.
Yet he still follows you, walking over to where you’re standing now. “Come on. Let me just take a look.” He reaches out to your wrist, running little circles with his thumb to ease your grasp.
“It’s not a big deal…” you let him look anyway, you figure it’s easier to just let him do his thing than to argue your way out of it. 
His calluses are brittle against your palm, but he handles you with the gentlest touch. The wound is not too big or too deep, but the sight of blood marring your palm makes his heart drop. There’s no visible piece stuck to it, that’s a good sign, he thinks. He rips off some paper towel and wets it on the sink, and softly dab at the gash, cleaning the wound and wiping the blood off.
You grit your teeth, not wanting to show any sign of pain although it stings. “It’s just a little cut…” your tone bears less and less conviction, as if you have no energy left to argue with him on such a small matter.
There’s a very particular way his eyebrows arch when he’s deep in thought. The left one always sits slightly higher than the right. Blue eyes fixed on the object of his focus. A minute gesture behind the chaos in his head. “You need a Band-Aid,” he points out. 
“It’s in the—”
Luca is already opening the drawer next to the stove, taking out a packet of a Star Wars-themed Band-Aid. He still remembers where everything is, and you can’t tell whether the ache in your chest is a good or bad thing.
He puts the Band-Aid on your cut, then takes your hand close to kiss it better, like he used to do.
“Um.” You freeze in your tracks, taken aback. And it seems he’s just as equally as taken aback by his own action. He is flushed with embarrassment, and you feel your face growing hot as well.
He’s the first to break the awkward silence, quiet and tentative. “I’ll clean up the mess. You just hang tight.”
It seems so mundane, sweeping broken glass and cleaning the floor. His body registers it as a simple muscle memory—he must’ve cleaned up messes on this very spot a million times. But his heart is heavy with the burden of your history, and all the pain that comes with your separation. He might not be able to put the pieces back together, but maybe he can clean up the mess and make it nice again for you.
And all the while, you’re stuck to the kitchen counter, watching him so effortlessly reacquainted with his former home. It’s as if he never left. For a confusing moment, it feels like home again. How did you manage without this view, this presence for so long?
Luca puts away the debris in the trash, hidden away in another kitchen drawer next to you, and hovers in front of you, as if wanting to reach out and touch you… but too afraid you’ll push him away.
“Does it still hurt?”
You can’t tear your eyes off of his. The little cut on your hand is but a dull ache now, but the insides of your chest feels like it’s been mangled beyond repair. You burst into tears, sobs ripping through the seams.
His arms wrap around you, keeping your tattered pieces together. Your face is buried in his chest, surrounded by soft cotton and earthy perfume, and your first thought is you can’t remember the last time you were in his arms like this. You rake your mind through all the memories, all the times you hugged each other hello and goodbye and all the times in between, and you can’t remember the last time you stopped, why would you stop—
“My love…” Luca’s voice soothes you, so quietly murmured against your forehead with a soft kiss, yet rings so clear in your ears. He cups your face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay... I got you.”
The palm of his hand grazes your lips, and you kiss it the way he kisses your Band-Aid earlier. You have no energy left to fight whatever is going on inside you. You don’t understand the nagging urge to be away from him, when being close to him feels this good. You miss his touch and his voice and his face, and you’re so overwhelmed with longing that you close the distance between your lips and his.
Luca gasps when you kiss him—and it feels like the first breath he’s drawn in two years. Your lips are just as he remembers, just as warm and inviting and familiar, and he relishes coming home to them tonight. He didn’t think he would be so lucky ever again, but now you’re here, kissing life back into him again.
Against your better judgment, you stumble into the bedroom, careful to make as little sound as possible as you tread down the hallway. Still tangled in each other. Refusing to let go even for a second. His five o’clock shadow scratches your skin, following the trail of his lips down your neck.
You push him into bed and climb on top of him without a single thought. You need him close, closer than the past two years, closer than now, and your clothes feel like they’re in the way. Of his hands, of his mouth, of his warmth…
You tear your dress off and throw it away, and he stops in his tracks. He has every part of you memorized, every curve and every ridge, every notch of your stretch marks, every inch of your C-section scar from Alfie’s birth… and yet he’s looking at you for the first time all over again.
“Beautiful…” it escapes his mouth just like that, and you kiss him senseless in return. You worry that if you stop, the moment will pass and this whole thing turns out to be just an illusion.
Or worse, a mistake.
You tug his t-shirt over his head, trying not to linger on his broad chest too long. He gets the idea—he is dying to say something, but doesn’t—and just unclasps your bra in response. He keeps his mouth busy by kissing and licking and sucking your newly exposed breasts.
It’s not that you haven’t been touched like this in a while; it’s just that you haven’t been touched by him like this for so long.. “Luca…”
He never thought he’d hear that again. His name in a wanton sigh, uttered by the lost love of his life. He’s not one to waste his chance. “It’s okay. I got you, my love. I got you.”
Because for the first time in a long time, it’s true. He’s got you. He’s got your body underneath him, your nipple in his mouth, your sweet sex in his hand.
God.
You’re so soft, so warm, so wet against his fingers. The little stuttered moan you let out sounds absolutely heavenly. He remembers exactly the last time he was here.
Christmas Eve, two years ago. 
Things had been tense long before that, but Luca was home and able to spend some time with his wife and kid at last. You didn’t seem all that chuffed having him around—whether he was here or not brought out that “neutral look of displeasure” from you these days— but at least you didn’t pull away when he rested his head on your shoulder as the three of you watched Jurassic Park (Alfie’s all-time favorite). Didn’t roll your eyes and turn away when he kissed you and wished you happy Christmas before bed.
And he wanted so desperately for you to openly want him again.
So he tentatively deepened the kiss and reiterated his love for you in every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. Trying to convince you that he was still here. Trying to convince himself that with every orgasm he pried out of you, that you still wanted him there.
But you just… laid there and watched. Hands locked in on the sheets, not even touching him. Motionless as he went through the motions of his thrusts. Numb as he touched and kissed and fucked you the way you used to like. He was fighting a losing battle. He might as well have been making love to a ghost. 
“Luca…” Your breathless voice snaps him out of his own intrusive thoughts, more clear and alive and real than any memory of you posing no desire for him.
“I— yeah, sorry. I just…” he shakes off his own thoughts.
“Hurry up, come on…” you needily thrust yourself into his hand.
“You sure?”
No, and neither does he. But at this point, you’re much too stubborn about your decision in the divorce and much too prideful to admit that you want him back and maybe just a tad too eager to make a mistake with him.
So you nod your head yes, and with a searing kiss, he fingerfucks you the way you needed him to. 
“Oh, God… fuck…” you sigh under the undoing of his fingers. It’s like he never forgot how to work your body. His fingers play a pattern on your clit that makes you sing. And when one slides into you, crooking and curling against your silky heat…
“Luca, I— now.”
He unlatches his mouth from your nipple almost begrudgingly, as if too sweet to part with you. “Not yet, baby. We can’t…”
“What, why?”
“Because…” he nips at the smooth flesh of your chest thoughtfully. How can he explain it to you in a way that makes sense? “I want…” to take as much time with you as possible, he adds another finger inside you deliciously slow. “I need…” to feel you in every way first, he chants in his head as he kisses you through your orgasm.
Your resolve is slipping, but the craving is as ravenous as ever. You try to squirm in protest anyway. “But…”
“Please.” His lips press against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “I got you, okay?”
His blue eyes meet yours, as familiar as the sky you’ve walked under your whole life. As sure as day. And before you realize it, you find yourself nodding along.
Watching him slither further down your body. Mouth paving the way between the valleys of your breasts, up the diamond-hard tops of your nipples.
Down your torso.
Between your nether lips.
You don’t remember the last time you did this either. Memories of attempts to rekindle the romance flash before your eyes. The nights that he climbed into bed late at night after work, still smelling like chocolate or mint or whatever ingredient he was working with that day. Waking you up with the parting of your legs and hushed kisses saying, “Missed you so much, baby…”
“Right there. Yes…” you pant as he laps you up where you’re dripping, catching every drop and coaxing more at the same time.
His eyes close, and he swallows back a needy groan. “Come for me, baby.”
The words shoot right into your core, and you’re suddenly overcome with the waves of pleasure running through you, grinding your hips into his mouth shamelessly. Has he always been so greedy in the way he ate you out?
Your head is spinning with need and you hope the broken words you string up are comprehensible enough for him. “Luca, come on, I can’t—”
“No, please—” he seems to understand just fine, but still he shakes his head and buries his face deeper into you.
“Luca…”
“Wait, just let me—”
So insistent. So stubborn. So… needy. You grasp a fistful of hair on the back of his head. Both heaving, you breathe out,
“Please.” 
The word stops him in his tracks. But it’s not so much the word as it is the gravity that comes with it. Whatever the two of you are doing, whatever you’re feeling is beyond words at this point.
It’s just you and him and this need.
And as much as he wants—needs— to satisfy his hunger, there’s just no way of stopping you anymore. Truth be told, he’s not even sure why he’s been stalling you in the first place. Not when you’re so eager to tug his clothes off and touch him absolutely everywhere. To stroke him, and taste him…
“No, baby.” He stops you just before you slither down his body, settling you back on the bed and caging you underneath him.
You throw him a look, indignant. If he’s gonna hold it off some more, you swear to God—
“No, I…” he kisses you hard, hoping you’ll get that he wants you too. More than anything. And that he’ll give you what you want. Hell, he would give you anything if he could come back to this again for the rest of his life. “Just trust me, okay?”
You marvel at the sight before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With dark blond locks tousled in passion and eyes lidded from lust and longing, and it makes your heart stop because… there it is.
Love.
As much as you shut it out and as much as you avoid it, love is permanently etched to his actions. Tattooed onto the smallest of things. In the way he kisses your temple softly, and the way he caresses your skin as he aligns himself against you, and the way he holds you as he pushes in…
“Luca…” you gasp sharply.
He stops halfway into you, his eyes searching your face with compassion. “You okay?”
You’re aching and craving the stretch of him all at once, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, so you ultimately nod your head. I’m okay. 
And he knows that deep down. He feels the same. Soothed and tormented by your very presence, although he can’t help but ask, “Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t ask me to stop…
You shake your head quickly. Neither of you would ever dream of it. You would take everything—the weight and the sting of it all— and he would leave everything behind just to have this again.
Your hips colliding again in a frenzy of a rhythm you haven’t played in so long—still remembering every beat like it’s your own pulse. Your walls gripping him like you wouldn’t let him go.
He shudders a little. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that…”
“I don’t care,” you murmur into his neck with a kiss, “Come.”
“What…?” He can’t have heard that right… right?
“I want you to.”
“Jesus…” he breathes out. “I wanna make this last, baby—”
You shake your head again and wrap your legs around him almost demandingly. “I want you to come inside me and fill me the fuck up… want you dripping down my legs… please…”
“Fuck!” The images flash before his eyes faster than he can stop his hands from grabbing you by the hips, slamming himself into you. 
Nor can he stop himself from coming deep inside you.
There’s no way to describe the way he feels at that moment. The way tension peaks and snaps into release. How it brings you into your climax as well. Your lips must be swollen from the assault of your own teeth as you hold back the filthy noises coming out of you. You don’t mind the building ache in your thigh muscles, because as soon as that warmth fills you up, your body is overcome by waves of bliss.
“Fuck…” he flops back onto his side of the bed—the right side—and quickly gathers you in his chest. It’s an effortless little maneuver, making sense at last as you lay half on top of him.
Your hand finds his—more puzzle pieces coming together as he fills the spaces between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Surprised to find the gold wedding band still adorning his ring finger.
***
9:56 PM
“Was that really your first time since we… you know?” Your murmured question rings loud in the absence of the rain. The storm has finally passed, but neither of you move—neither even dare to bring it up— afraid to ruin the moment. 
“It was.”
“Not even in a casual, ‘no strings attached’ kind of situation?”
“No.” He looks almost embarrassed to admit it, but there is no hesitation in his answer.
“Wow…” your heart sinks. Is it possible to feel good and bad at the same time?
Luca pauses for a moment. You can see the conflict brewing in his head. “Did you?”
You don’t have to answer. The sheer silence you take is an answer enough.
The confirmation feels like shit, but he tries to stay neutral. His thumb stills on the back of your hand. “Can I ask how many?”
“Gosh, does that even matter?” You sigh. There’s another argument coming—you can feel it.
“No, I just… I wanna know.”
“You don’t really wanna know.”
“Is it a lot?”
“I mean…”
“How many?” 
You take in a sharp breath. There’s no way out of this now. If the truth is what he wants, then the truth is what he shall get. “Twelve.”
He tenses up next to you. The whole world stops, and you can’t help but think, it’s over. There is no way this marriage is salvageable now. “What…?”
“I know that it’s a big number, and I know you might be upset—”
“That is a big number.” He doesn’t say anything about the latter part of her sentence, but it’s obvious that he’s upset, too. “I just… why?”
“I was trying to get over you.” It’s a pathetic answer, but that’s all it is to it. “I couldn’t sleep in this bed for months. I just couldn’t. Slept on the guest bed instead,” you motion at the next room, “and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like a switch flipped inside my brain, and I needed to—”
“What?”
“I needed to… overwrite the memories of you,” you admit feebly. “On this bed. On my body.”
Knife, meet heart. He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but whatever it was, this hurts so much more. “And did it work?”
“Up to a point…” you pause, a sad smile in realization. “It’s funny. I keep getting bits and pieces of you somehow.”
“What do you mean?”
You close your eyes, your memories flashing, reminding you that every single time reminds you of Luca one way or another. “It’s… somebody’s perfume, or the timbre of their voice, or the way they hold my hand…”
“And you see me in them?” 
“Every single one.”
“Jesus…” Luca finds himself relieved and choked up at the same time. He doesn’t want you to ever get rid of your memories of him, but at the same time, it’s painful to hear that you tried anyway.
And you tried very hard.
“I’m sorry.”
He hums, and you realize… he hasn’t let go of your hand. Not once. Not even after your little confession. It makes the argument easier, knowing he’s there. It’ll be easier to part with him again after tonight, you hope, knowing you both did your best to understand. Why you needed to be apart. Why you did the things you did.
The armor has been shed, and the two of you are now naked, in every sense of the word.
Luca turns to look at you, studying your profile. He remembers the last time he was here.
He had just told you about Denmark. Stupid of him to feel excited, to tell you he’d just been offered his dream job, to ask you and Alfie to move someplace new with him, because it turned into a fight.
Worse than a fight; it was a death sentence.
You turned away and stared at the ceiling, and told him you couldn’t do this anymore.
And in some fucked up way, Luca feels as if he’d been brought back in time, and this is his one chance to make it right. So he asks you,
“Do you still love me?” 
You breathe out, heart clenching because in spite of yourself, “I do.”
“Do you want us to try again?”
“Luca…” you sigh heavily, “How would that even work? Alfie and I are here, and you have Noma–”
“No more Noma. I’m giving that up.” The answer is straightforward, and he surprises himself over how easily it rolls off of his tongue. How right.
“What? You wouldn’t…” Your face falls as you turn to him.
“I would. And I am,” he says firmly. “Look, I’ve thought about this for months now. I can’t do Noma anymore, I need to be home.” His gaze softens, and you feel the pattern running on the back of your hand again.
Slow and steady and certain.
The tear rolls off the corner of your eye and onto the pillow with the tiniest drop. “I wanted you to come home…”
“Then let me come home. Please?”
“I want to. I just…” you reach out and cup his face tentatively. “I just want to make sure that we’re not doing anything rash.”
His eyes light up. The only thing that matters is that you want him home, too. It takes him everything to let his logical part of the brain take control. “How about this, then?” Luca pauses thoughtfully. “We’ll take a minute. For me to sort out everything at Noma, find a replacement… and for us to figure out if this is really what we wanna do.
“If it starts to feel like a bad idea, maybe we should rethink it. But if it feels good… maybe we can give it another shot.
“And in the meantime, we’ll talk. We’ll FaceTime and… figure out what the hell to say to our lawyers.”
That makes you grimace. You were supposed to have another meeting with your divorce lawyers. Tomorrow is going to be awkward. But awkward beats saying goodbye to the man you’ve always loved, right? It’s a small price to pay.
“What do you say, baby?” He looks at you with all the hope that he has. “Just give me a minute to get everything sorted and then I’ll come home.”
You smile tearfully. “A minute is not enough… how about a month, hm?”
“Yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” He chuckles sheepishly. “A month. I can do that.”
“Good.” You sidle up to him and kiss him where his heart is. You’re willing to settle for having him just for the night, but you can’t wait until he comes home to you for good.
You hope he will.
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nolita-fairytale · 9 months
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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter eight
summary: you and luca pick up where you left off a week ago.
warnings: fluff, smut (18+ only), literally just p*rn FOR the plot. big note on consent: there is protected (then sort of) unprotected sex in this chapter. the biggest point i'd like to make here is that both characters consent to both kinds and have a very open and honest conversation about it which, if you take away anything from this chapter, it's PLEASE HAVE HONEST CONVERSATIONS WITH THE PEOPLE YOU'RE SLEEPING WITH FOR EVERYONE'S SAFETY. ok rant over.
word count: 4.9k
listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist
a/n: another busy week ahead of me so I wanted to get this out here ASAP, but most likely won't be able to get the following chapter out for a bit. obviously, we don't know what happens w/ marcus' mom, but in this world, she doesn't die opening night of The Bear.
on another note: you guys are seriously the best and leave the sweetest and most excited comments/reblogs. i seriously love it when you guys scream at me in gifs/memes/all caps. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.
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part seven | masterlist | part nine
“Yeah uh, everything’s been goin’ good. I think Carm’s still trying to deal with everything that happened since opening – I don’t know if you heard but – but… it’s been good,” Marcus says over his FaceTime call with his mentor. 
“No, I hadn’t. Eh, haven’t talked to him much since before you visited,” Luca answers, hesitant to ask about what happened during that first night. 
“Got locked in the fridge and kinda lost it but… he’s doin’ okay,” Marcus explains, summing up the events of The Bear’s friends and family night. 
“How are you doing? How’s your mum?” Luca asks, changing the subject from Carmen to his mentee. 
He’s had more contact with Marcus – knows more of what’s going on in Marcus’ life than Carmen’s for a bit now – and Luca wants to make sure he’s being a good friend to him, considering he’d heard about Marcus’ mom’s emergency the night of The Bear’s friends and family night. 
“She’s hangin’ on but… it’s not lookin’ great. It’s hard, man. I’m… doin’ the best I can,” Marcus admits, solemnly. 
“I can only imagine,” Luca empathizes, because he can’t bear the thought of losing his own mum. 
“But uh… anyways, what’s up? What’s new with you?” Marcus asks, his voice much more energetic from the prospect of changing the subject. 
“You sure you want to hear about me?” Luca hesitates cautiously. 
“Yeah, man,” Marcus agrees. Luca can hear something so sure in his voice, as if Marcus is in dire need of a distraction – to talk about anything but his sick mom. “Shit. I’d love to hear about someone else’s drama for once,”
Luca chuckles softly, his voice light as he replies, “No drama on my end. Though. Ehm… I met a girl. I actually kinda have you to thank for it, mate.” 
“What do you mean?” Marcus questions. 
“Well. All that talk about inspiration…” Luca says, thinking about how what he’s just makes sense. 
“... you know, about being open to things outside the kitchen…. After you left, it made me realize that it’d be a while since I’d taken my own advice. Got stuck on a menu, went out for inspiration, and, well you know what they say: the rest is history.”
He knows it’s not as simple as that, but it seems like Marcus needs a little good news right now. 
“Oh shit! How’s that going?” Marcus asks, his tone much lighter now. 
“I’m positively chuffed, mate,” Luca chuckles, unable to hide the i’m-very-much-enamored smile that spreads across his face.
“The fuck does that even mean, man?” Marcus teases with a laugh at the oh-so-posh-sounding expression. 
Luca laughs again before explaining, “It means I'm pretty damn smitten.” 
“Shit,” Marcus sighs. 
He can see it all over his face as he continues to see his mentor. 
“You’re a goner, man.”
-------------------------------
Luca walks you home this Saturday evening after his regular dinner date at your restaurant. While you had a steady flow of business tonight, Mathilde and the rest of your kitchen staff made it a point to rally so that you could join him for a bit. It’s been a week since your unplanned sleepover with Luca (and your pleasantly surprising sexy morning after), and you haven’t stopped thinking about it. 
Haven’t stopped thinking about him:
The way he called you ‘love.’ The way he watched you fall apart with the most pleased look on his face. The way his fingers felt inside of you. 
“Luca,” you begin. 
The two of you stand across from one another, at a crossroads. The night could end here. You could say your goodbyes, give him a goodnight kiss, and go your separate ways, but that’s far from the option you’d prefer.
“Yes, love?” he asks you, as if he’s waiting for you to ask first.
There it is again. 
Love. 
Your eyes flicker from the cobblestone streets then back up to him as you the words fall out of your mouth:
“Do you… wanna come up?” 
Something flashes across Luca’s face as he opens mouth to say something, pausing for a moment before answering, as if it’s an agreement to what you’re really asking, an ever-so confident,
“Yes.” 
You smile, take a breath, then grab his hand as you turn towards the door to your building. As Luca follows you, the only sound between the two of you are your footsteps as you make your way up the stairs. The tension between you is thick, the anticipation of what happens next palpable, that takes shape as a pregnant silence. Luca is more-than-patient as you unlock your door, welcoming him into your home once again, before locking your front door behind you. He’s busy removing his shoes as you giggle, taking yours off as well. 
Once both of you are barefoot, you reach for him, pulling him towards you so that he towers over you, your back pressed against the front door once again. 
“This feels… eerily familiar,” Luca jokes softly, so close to kissing you that it hurts. 
“Yeah,” you agree, under your breath. This is exactly where he had you a week ago, before you both decided not to do the thing you were about to do. “Think you might wanna… pick up where we left off? Now that neither of us are plastered?”
Luca waits a beat, leaning in and ghosting his lips over yours, causing you to gasp in response to his teasing. 
“Do you?” he asks, his voice steady.
He wants to know that you’re sure. Wants to know that you want this as much as him. That you haven’t stopped thinking about the other day when he watched you fall apart on his fingers and how it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 
“Yes,” you answer, your voice unwavering. 
He swears under his breath before his mouth is on yours, kissing you so deeply that your head spins. You make a mental note to tell him later how absolutely perfect his lips are – how deliciously plump they are, how they feel perfect against yours, how talented they are. You kiss him back, allowing him to steal the air from your lungs as he does it, crowding you up against your front door. 
Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You push your body against his, surprised at how steady his hands are, while yours feel so desperate, so frenzied, when he reaches for you. 
His hands are all over you, leaving confident, strong touches all over your body: pulling you in closer to him by your hips, stroking up and down your back, sliding underneath the hem of your shirt like he’s already done this with you a thousand times before. With his hands already underneath your shirt, exploring new territory, and his mouth leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck, his name leaves your lips like something between a sigh and a moan. 
He hums in response, pulling back for a moment. Your heart skips as a beath, as blue eyes lock with yours in a heated, lust-filled standoff. 
“Come with me,” you whisper, causing Luca to move aside, letting you lead him towards your bedroom. 
On the way there, you flip a hallway light on so that you can at least see where you’re going. You feel his fingers tangle with yours as he grabs your hand, his heart pounding in his chest. As soon as you reach your bedroom, you sit him down on your neatly-made bed, before turning on a small, soft, golden lamp that feels like candlelight. 
It’s just enough – more of a nightlight than a lamp, really.
You approach him without a word, and Luca marvels at you. You’re a sight for sore eyes: your hair messy from the heated makeout against your front door, your lips kiss-swollen from the fact that he can barely keep his hands, let alone his mouth off of you, your pupils blow wide with desire for him and only him. You pull your shirt over your head as you climb on to his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you press a searing kiss to his lips. 
“My god,” he murmurs, his hands coming up to meet the newly exposed skin. You settle into his lap, pressing your hips against his, arching your back into him in response to each touch. “You are so incredibly beautiful.”
You giggle before thanking him.
“Yeah, and I know that you know you’re hot,” you tease him in between kisses, because the man must know what he looks like, right? Luca mutters something about how he wasn’t trying to solicit a compliment from you as he lays back on your bed, taking you with him.
His hands hungrily grab at exposed flesh: the sides of your back, your breasts, the straps of your bra, just to pull them down enough to think he’s going to take it off. Impatiently, you grind your hips against where a tent in his pants has begun to form, earning a moan from his lips as he bucks his hips up to meet your clothed core. 
“We should um-,” you start, already so turned on by the way Luca’s body moves against yours that you think you should bring this up sooner rather than later. “Things we should talk about….”
“Yes, my love?” Luca asks, grinding against you again. 
You moan in response, throwing your head back as you giggle, knowing that he’s teasing you – testing your patience. 
You settle down, just for a moment, both hands going to his well-toned chest. Luca’s hands still around your hips as you say:
“I have condoms. In my nightstand. And I’m also on the pill. I… just got back on it.” 
Just got back on it when you started seeing him – you know, just in case this became a thing. 
“I haven’t been tested since my yearly physical which was… almost a year ago… but I also haven’t exactly been having sex so,” you add, your eyes flickering away for just a moment before returning to Luca’s very blue ones. 
“That’s very sexy,” he smiles up at you, his hands softly stroking your hips. 
“What?” you ask with a giggle, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you shoot him a quizzical look. 
“This… very direct communication,” he replies with a smirk, grinding his hips back up into yours again. 
“Luca!” you squeal in response, catching yourself against him so that you don’t lose your balance. 
He grins before answering, “My last test was three months ago at my yearly physical. Clean bill of health.” He pauses before saying the next thing. 
“And I’m not seeing anyone else.”
You nod, leaning down to kiss him in understanding, “Okay.”
“Okay,” he replies, bringing you down once more for another passionate makeout. 
Luca is right. It’s an even bigger turn on, the open communication, and now that you’ve gotten that conversation out of the way, you’re ready to dive in head first to exactly where you hope this is going. Getting undressed is a sexy, dreamy blur. You’re practically tearing Luca’s shirt over his head, unable to hide the fact that your jaw is near-on the floor as you take it in the hard planes of his abdomen. He expertly removes your bra, and before you know it, he’s gotten you onto your back, and you’re kicking your pants off to the bottom of the bed. 
Luca pins both of your hands to the bed overhead with one of his hands – his fingers laced with some of yours as he holds them in place – while his other hand once again makes its way between your legs. You gasp in anticipation, unable to stop the confession that comes out of your mouth. 
“I haven’t stopped thinking about that. About you. All week,” you whisper, eager to have him touch you again. 
“That so?” Luca asks cockily, in between kisses. 
“Yes,” you gasp, squirming underneath your touch as two his fingers dance over your clothed core. 
From the wetness pooling between your legs up to your clit, the way he touches you sets off sparks all over your body. You pant, unable to think straight as Luca pulls your pantied aside, his fingertips meeting your wetness immediately. He moans in response to this discovery, his forehead pressed against yours, and you cry out when he finally gives you what you’ve been begging for, as he slips a finger into you. 
“Luca,” you sigh, like you’ve gotten the only thing that could remedy your restlessness as of late. 
Luca kisses you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth for a millionth time tonight as he begins sliding his finger in and out of you. 
“You’re so wet, love,” he coos, teasingly, into your mouth. “It’s too easy. The way my fingers slide in and out of you.” He pushes another finger into you, beginning to stretch you again at a deliciously slow pace. “You want me this much?”
And all you can do is moan, arch your back in response to the pleasure he brings you, his hand keeping both of yours above your head while he has you at his mercy. 
“So good,” you cry, as you breathe heavily. “So good. It feels-. Fuck.” 
He chuckles cruelly, breaking the kiss between you as he pulls his fingers from you. You whimper in response, impatiently, greedily. The man has you under a sexual spell and you could care less about anything else right now. 
“I already know how you feel about my fingers. Think I should give you my mouth too, hm?” he rasps, his question anything but rhetorical. 
Luca releases your hands that he’s pinned to the mattress, beginning to kiss down your jaw, your neck, your bare torso, pausing to take each of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flickering across them like it’s a goddamn preview. 
“I need to hear you say it,” he commands, his voice quiet yet dominant. Luca pauses, his journey south, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses across your belly as he looks up at you with piercing blue eyes. 
“D’you want my mouth? Will you let me taste you?” 
“Please,” you’re too quick, too eager to respond when you’re looking down at him, looking down at the sight before you. 
Without hesitation, Luca tears your panties down your legs, impatiently tossing them behind him. He begins kissing the inside of your right thigh, alternating between soft kisses, and gentle love bites that have you squealing in delight. You let out soft moans in anticipation, sure that whatever happens next will bring you to an early grave. 
A hiss in pleasure escapes your lips as you feel the heat of his breath fan over you, but before your brain can even catch up, Luca’s licking a broad stripe up your core, parting you open for him and only him. 
You cry out, your head thrown back as he buries his face between your legs, tracing fierce abstract shapes over your clit. He moans against you, the vibrations too much as you surrender to him. He alternated between sucking and licking, and it’s not till he’s pushing two fingers back into you that your hands are grasping at the sheets, grabbing at the back of his head as your body writhes in pleasure. 
You can feel it, that spark so deep in your belly, the coil that winds itself so tightly that the only thing it can do to relieve any tension is to snap. 
“Luca. I’m gonna cum,” you beg him, a desperate whine in your voice. “Please don’t stop.” 
He doesn’t. It’s as if he couldn’t bear the thought of it – like he could never be cruel enough to deny you what you’re asking for when your voice sounds so sweet, so desperate, so on fire for him.
Using his fingers and his mouth in tandem, he’s relentless in bringing you to your climax, so determined to keep his name on your lips with every gasp, moan, and exhale.
And god, does he love the way it sounds: when you’re moaning it, when you’re begging him not to stop, when you make it sound like a symphony – like he’s just created a goddamn masterpiece. 
He’s left you breathless, and all you can do is breathe, allowing your brain to catch up with the pleasure your body has just experienced. Luca makes his way back up to you before pressing a searing kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on his lips, and you have no intention of stopping now. 
You can feel the weight of him as he folds his body over yours. Curious hands begin to move as you become more and more interested in exploring Luca’s body. His muscles flex underneath your fingertips as a reminder of the sheer strength of the man above you. Luca groans as you cup him over his pants, before you begin to undo his pants.
“Do you… want to grab a condom?” he asks softly. 
You pause, your hands to meet his gaze with your own. 
“Uh.. yeah,” you reply. You had every intention of returning the favor, but perhaps that’s something you’ll save for tomorrow. “Let me just um….” 
You sit up, and Luca pulls back, kneeling on the bed as he finishes the job, undoing the button on his pants as you open your nightstand to grab a condom. You place the condom down on the bed next to you, before laying down, your legs spread enough so that Luca can settle between them as you watch him slide his pants and briefs down over his erection. 
Holy. Shit. 
The man’s an adonis. 
And…
Well, you know you shouldn’t be surprised. 
He’s 6’ 3” for godssake. 
But as you see his cock standing tall, hard, precum leaking from the tip, you’re glad you’ve had quite the night of foreplay so far, especially since it’s been a while since you’ve taken a lover. Instead of hesitating, you sit up just for a moment so that you can pull him over you, pulling Luca down to you for a kiss. He’s quick to respond, using one tatted hand to cradle the back of your head, deepening the kiss as he lays over you once again. 
Your right hand makes it way between you, beginning to stroke him, earning a hiss of pleasure from Luca as you wrap your hand around his thick length. He bucks into your hand and you stroke up and down his erection a few times before guiding him towards you, allowing him to use your slick as lubricant as the two of you grind against each. 
You know you should do the responsible thing, but you can’t help wondering what it would feel like too. But there’s time for that. Another time for that… 
As if he’s read your mind, Luca grabs the condom next to you, before sitting up. He carefully rips open the foil packet before tossing it somewhere on the floor, giving both hands the freedom to slide the latex over his hard on. And then he’s back on you, folding his body over yours as you make room for him between your legs, pressing the gentlest kiss to your lips. 
“You sure you want to do this?” he asks, and you think you’ll melt with how damn considerate he is. 
“Yes, baby,” you whisper back, it being the first time you’ve called him that. “Yes.” 
With your ‘yes’ Luca reaches down, pressing his thick tip against your opening, then begins to push in. You both gasp at the contact as he holds your gaze, and you feel the slightest pinch as he stretches you open. Luca caresses the side of your face, watching you for any sign, any kind of reaction that you’d want to stop. He keeps his eyes on you, pushing deeper, and then deeper, till he bottoms out.
Leaning his forehead against yours as he pauses, he’s got to focus on not cumming right then and there. 
“Fuck. You feel so fucking good,” he exhales, letting the way you feel take over him. You’re all warm, wet, pulsing heat and it feels too fucking good. 
You give yourself a moment to adjust to his size, before beginning to give him a few experimental movements, grinding your hips where the two of you are connected. Without having to say a word, Luca understands, dragging his hard length out of you at an unbearably slow pace, before pushing back into you, eliciting moans from the both of you this time. 
“Do that again,” you murmur, your eyes fluttering close and you focus on the delicious drag of his cock. 
He does it again, this time thrusting a little bit harder into you, causing you to moan a little louder this time. His mouth is back on yours as he begins to set a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you while you meet his hips with yours, rocking against him at a pace that matches. It’s as if Luca’s begun to map out your body, wanting to memorize every little thing that makes you tick, that makes you scream, causes you to grasp at any grabbable surface – the sheets, his hair, his back. 
His mouth is back on yours, swallowing your moans as he continues to fuck you. You’ve settled into a rhythm that feels just right – something that you can get completely lost in. It could be minutes, hours, days that you’ve been here, chasing mutual pleasure, wrapped up in each other’s arms like you need it to breathe. The way he moves against you is strong, yet gentle as Luca makes love to you, whispering the filthiest things into your mouth, into your ears, the soft canvas of your skin, as if he’s engraving them in stone.
You take me so well. So fucking pretty like this. My beautiful girl. 
“Luca,” you gasp, as he gives you a particularly euphoric thrust. 
“Hm?” he hums in response. 
“Let me ride you,” you request, your eyelids heavy as he stays close to you. 
“Yeah?” he asks you, one expressive eyebrow raising up. 
“Yeah,” you nod. 
Luca kisses you deeply before pausing, pulling out of you and rolling over onto his back. He thinks he’s died and gone to heaven as he watches you climb on top of him, your disheveled sex hair and desire to fuck him seem to awaken something primal in him. As you hover over him, your knees framing his hips, you line yourself up with him before taking him once again. 
Luca groans, letting his hands trace gentle patterns up and down your body – his hands smooth over your ass and caress your breasts, as calloused fingertips drag across your stomach, your shoulders, your ribcage – as if he's writing a love letter against your skin. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. 
He moans, closing his eyes as you begin moving your hips over him, forward and back, beginning to ride him like you’d asked to earlier. Large hands make their way to your hips, as you continue your movements, this time leaning down to kiss him. Luca moans into your mouth as your tongues tangle together, your hips never ceasing their grind against him. 
It feels too good. 
You feel too good.
You break the kiss this time, placing your hands on Luca’s chest for leverage as you begin to speed up your pace, letting out a moan as you fuck yourself on your lover. Back arched, hair messy, and your head thrown back, you’re completely lost in the way that he feels inside of you. 
“Look at you,” Luca marvels, hands everywhere as you bring yourself closer to your second orgasm of the night. “My god, love.” 
And before you know it, Luca’s sitting up, sitting tall, wrapping one of his long arms around your torso while the other braces against the bed behind him. He’s thrusting his hips up into you, his hand moving to the small of your back to keep you in perfect harmony with him. The way he hits the back of you with each thrust, how deep he is, how good it feels has you so, so close for the second time tonight. You cry out in response to a particularly hard thrust as your body slumps, resting your forehead against Luca’s shoulder. 
You are no longer in control. It’s funny really – and sweet – that he let you think even for a second that you could be. But when he’s bouncing you up and down like this over his hard length, thrusts becoming more erratic, more chaotic, sloppier, you have no choice but to surrender to him. You hold onto his back and his shoulders for dear life as he fucks up into you and you can tell he’s close too. 
“God, you’re so good. You’re so fucking good at this,” you whine, all nerves, and explosive pleasure behind your admission. 
“I’m close. Baby, are you-?” Luca struggles to get out, the tension in his brow telling you everything you need to know. 
“Yes. Harder. Fuck. I’m gonna cum,” you sob, sure that your neighbors will send you the dirtiest or looks when you run into them in the hallway tomorrow. 
You cry out as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing hasty circles against you in an effort to take you there with him. All you can do is moan as you busy your mouth with leaving kisses and love bites against his shoulders and chest. 
It’s somehow too much and not enough all at once as your orgasm rips through you, your entire body contracting against his. You bite down on Luca’s shoulder, and you think the pain and pleasure combined is what gets him across the finish line as he fucks you through your climax. Before you can properly come down, it’s one, two, and then a third hard thrust up into you before he lets out a primal grunt, pressing your hips down hard against his. 
Luca stills inside of you, panting as the ripples of pleasure course through his body, his ears ringing from how hard he came. His eyes meet yours, and he chuckles, moving a piece of hair from your face before tucking it behind your ear. 
“Hi,” he smiles, watching you carefully. 
“How ya doin?” you ask him, teasingly. 
He shakes his head with a laugh before pulling you towards him so that he can kiss you once again. 
“I’m great,” he answers, in between kisses. 
“Me too,” you agree as your lips curl into a smile against his. You press one more kiss to his lips before pulling back. As you climb off of his lap, allowing him to slip out of you, the two of you hit the mattress like you’ve just run a marathon. 
“Come here, love,” he says, encouraging you closer to him. 
More than happy to oblige, you curl up to his side, one of your legs wrapping around his as you lay on your side. You giggle, settling into the softness of moment, pressed up against the guy that just fucked your brains out. 
“What?” he asks, in regards to your laugh. 
“I just-,” you start, before giggling again. “That was really hot.”
Luca gives you a comforting squeeze, hugging you closer to him as you relax even further into his body. 
“Yeah it was,” he agrees, a grin spreading across his lips. 
He looks over at you to see that you’re on your way to being fast asleep. You’ve closed your eyes, so perfectly tucked underneath his arm as you rest against his body. Luca places a gentle kiss on top of your head as he grins to himself again. He’s not sure what to call it – this thing he’s feeling – because it’s too soon to call it anything, but whatever it is, he knows that his friend was right: 
He’s a goner. 
-------------------------------
Luca doesn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve this, but as he watches you take him into your mouth, he knows he must’ve done something right. Your name escapes his lips like a prayer as you spend your morning going down on him, completely incapable of ignoring the hard-on you woke up to minutes ago.
You’d promptly pushed him onto his back before asking if you could. 
And who was he to say no?
“Shit,” he hisses, as your tongue runs over the head of his hard, leaking cock.
“Wait, just-. I don’t want to cum yet. I-,” Luca stammers out, using all of his self control not to cum in your mouth right then and there. “I want to fuck you again.” 
His words shoot straight to your core as you release him, climbing back over his body and letting him roll you onto your back. 
“Do you want me to grab a condom?” he asks you, nipping at your jaw as his fingers discover that you’re already ready for him. 
His words from last night echo in your head: 
And I’m not seeing anyone else. 
“No,” you say, immediately searching his face for some kind of negative reaction. “Is that okay?” 
He nods, one side of his mouth turns up into that crooked smile that makes your heart race. 
“Fuck,” he rasps, his head spinning as he lines himself up with your entrance, beginning to push in. 
“Of course it is, love.”
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badwritinghabit · 9 months
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Chef's Kiss | Carmy x fem!OC x Luca | Chapter 6
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Warnings: explicit smut (seriously 18+ only), oral sex, vaginal sex, use of "good girl" and lots of praise, slight domination (with lots of open communication).
Word Count: 3,049
Summary: Luca and Sophie go back to his hotel room.
Luca grabbed Sophie’s hand in the hotel lobby. He squeezed it gently, comforting her nerves as if he could read her mind. Her thoughts had been swirling, suddenly nervous. It had been a while since she had done anything like this. She hadn’t dated anyone seriously in years and with the long hours and late nights she worked for most of her career, she just hadn’t had a lot of experience.
But she desperately wanted a good night, where she pretended to be a normal person who could do things like this. Go on a date with someone and go back to his hotel room.
And it was Luca.
In one day the man had swept her off her feet. He was kind and warm and unbearably attractive. So she pushed aside the nerves and decided she’d pretend. For one night. She was someone a little more confident– a little more put together.
Luca led her into the elevator and pressed the button for the 9th floor. Sophie realized as the elevator doors closed that they were alone. She gripped his hand tighter, deciding in the moment that she wanted to make the first move. And the idea of kissing in an elevator felt strangely exhilarating.
Luca seemed to be on the same wavelength. He met her eyes and grinned down at her when she stepped closer. She reached up, hands running over his shoulders and pulled him down towards her. He leaned forward to meet her as she stood up on her tiptoes.
His lips were warm and soft on hers. His right hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her even closer. The elevator door dinged and came to a halt and she pulled back. He pulled her to his side. “Not our floor.” He reached out to push a stray curl behind her ear.
Her eyes trailed over his lips and she realized she had left lipstick behind. She glanced towards the elevator doors as an older couple walked in. The woman seemed to notice Luca’s lip color and grinned at Sophie conspiratorially making her smile in response.
When they finally reached their floor, Luca pulled on her hand and led her to his room. As they walked in, she stopped him as the door closed.
“Sorry, I accidentally–” He looked at her confused as she lifted her hand up and rested her palm against his cheek, running her thumb over his lower lip. “A bit of lipstick.” She bit her lip to cover a laugh.
“Is that why they were looking at me in the elevator?” he asked, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the hotel room. She shrugged innocently and he chuckled.
“It looks better on you anyways.” she said, eyebrows slightly raised, feeling herself grin a little too wide at the very silly attempt to flirt. He chuckled, the sound warming her chest, and pulled her towards him for a kiss. Her hands had made their way to his chest as she leaned against him. She felt tingly down to her toes.
He pulled away, his hand softly sweeping back from her cheek back to her hair. She stepped back and shifted her foot slightly as she felt the back of her already sore heel rub against her shoe. Something must’ve shown on her face because he looked at her concerned.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just the shoes.” She shrugged it off. He grabbed her elbow lightly to lead her in. They walked towards the bed and he slid his jacket off his shoulders. She found herself distracted by his arms.
“Sit,” he said, his voice warm. She did, feeling nervous as she perched on the edge of the bed. He kneeled in front of her and she looked at him in confusion. He softly lifted first her left foot and then her right, removing her shoes and rubbing the soles of her feet.
She sighed, the embarrassment at the undivided attention overridden by how good it felt.
“That feel good?” he asked with a smile, looking up from his position kneeling before her.
Her cheeks flamed as she nodded, her heart pounding fast. “Really good.”
His hands slid from her foot up her calf and slowly to her knees, leaving a trail of fire as he went. He leaned in for a kiss and she gasped into his mouth as he gripped her thighs and pulled her towards him on the edge of the bed.
He was overwhelming her. His warm scent, the heat of his hands on her thighs, the taste of his mouth, still sweet and bitter from the wine. When his hands slid under the hem of her dress, slowly up to her hips, she sighed against him.
His palm was hot as he slid up and over the curve of her hip. She felt his thumb brush delicately over the waistband of her panties and she reached up to grasp his shoulder.
“Is this okay?” he asked, not pulling away but not moving further either.
“Yes,” she agreed. “I should take off my dress.” She blushed as she looked into his eyes. It felt intensely intimate.
He stood and pulled her with him. She reached her arms behind her to get to the zipper but he spun her around to help. He slid the zipper down slowly. She felt the sensation of his breath against her neck before he started nipping gently at her skin. She leaned back into him, lifting her neck. She slid the dress down and stepped out of it before biting her lip and picking it up. She placed it on the chair near the bed.
“Sorry, my sister would kill me if I ruined it,” Sophie said quickly, voice practically a whisper. She suddenly felt embarrassed, face flushing, losing her cool for a moment. Luca just smiled at her, eyes crinkling as he stepped forward to kiss her again. When he pulled back to look at her she fought the urge to cover herself and instead raised her hand to unbutton his shirt.
“I was tested, recently– since my last time,” Sophie said as she finished unbuttoning his shirt and slid it off of his shoulders, meeting his eyes. Waiting for him to respond.
“I have as well. And I have condoms.” At her responding smile, he kissed her softly. “I may have bought them before I picked you up.”
“Oh really?” Sophie asked, grinning up at him, pulling him in again. Fingers tangling in the hair at the back of his head, scratching lightly at his scalp. Her confidence surged at the thought that he’d wanted her the way she had him. “Making presumptions?” she teased.
He hummed. “A man can dream,” he said, voice low in her ear as he nipped gently at her ear lobe and then her neck. She shivered.
“Flatterer,” she said, voice losing some of the teasing edge at her breathlessness.
“Is it working?” He was smirking, she could hear it as he murmured against the skin on her collarbone.
“Just get over here.” She pulled him towards her by the waist of his trousers and pulled them both onto the bed, him on top of her. He landed with his hands catching him before he fell on her and let out a surprised chuckle. Then his hands were on her again. And his mouth.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice deep. She moaned and arched into him as he kissed down her body, stopping to remove her bra. His hand completely encased her breast, his mouth on her nipple. He was so much bigger than her, she felt swallowed up by him as he hovered over her. But he was impossibly gentle, excruciatingly careful with her. Every touch was soft and delicate.
He slid his hand down her side and slipped between her thighs. Finally reaching where she needed him. She groaned as he slid a finger through her folds slowly, eventually sliding just one finger inside. She stopped herself from bucking into him, but only barely. She was soaked, she could feel it as he pulled her panties to the side and the cool air hit her damp skin.
He leaned back up and kissed her sweetly as he slid his finger all the way inside her. His palm ground against her mound and clit making her release a tiny whine.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled against her neck as he kissed all of the skin he could reach. He had slowly started pumping into her and she could hear the squelching sound of her wetness. She was gripping his hair, grinding against his hand, already lost to how good he made her feel. After a few more breathless thrusts, he pulled out of her and she sighed, loosening her grip on him and opening her eyes.
“May I?” he asked as he lifted her hips and removed her panties. It took a moment to figure out what he was asking, her brain fried from the stimulation already. But then he was shifting downwards, left elbow bent and holding himself over her thighs, his eyes still locked to hers waiting for her answer. “I want dessert.” Her thighs clenched and he turned and kissed one gently.
She realized she hadn’t answered yet and said, too eagerly, “Yes! Yeah.”
He slid his forearm around the outside of her thigh and held her open gently while he leaned his face down to her core. His right hand was tracing a pattern on the soft skin of her opposite leg and he turned and nipped teasingly at the apex of her thigh. She had forgotten how to breathe and when he licked a strip from her entrance to her clit in one motion, she jerked forward. His arm held her legs open as he continued to lick and taste her. She reached out and gripped his hair with one hand, the other clutching the bedspread underneath her.
Sophie found herself quickly building towards an orgasm. He had slid a finger, and then a second, inside her and she was trying and failing to stop herself from moaning. His fingers curled inside of her causing a blissful pressure that she found herself pushing into, trying to get closer– needing more.
He didn’t waste time and the short, fast licks against her clit were what pushed her over the edge. She cried out his name as she came against his face and he kissed his way back up as she was breathing through her orgasm.
She blinked up at him for a moment before pulling him down into a kiss. She reached down and unbuttoned his trousers, pushing them down his legs. He helped, lifting up so that she could pull them off. She ran her hands down his chest, fingers running over the planes of his muscles, lower. She palmed him through his boxers, hearing his breath catch at her movements.
Seeing him react to her urged her on. She slid his boxers off before nudging him to roll over so that she was on top. She kneeled between his open legs, running her palm slowly over his length, stopping at the bottom and gripping him. Then she licked the tip gently. She heard him hiss, saw his hands grip the sheets. She took him in her mouth, sucking.
“Fuck,” he groaned. She bobbed up and down, sucking her cheeks in, while pumping with her hand. She squeezed her thighs together at the sound of him groaning her name. She wanted him inside her. She decided to be selfish.
“Condom?” she asked, looking up at him. He reached over quickly to the side table and pulled out a packet. She took it from him.
She helped him slide the condom on and hesitated only the briefest moment. Immediately, Luca was cupping her face, asking if she was okay. Her chest warmed at the gentleness.
“Yeah.” She kissed him quickly. “It’s just been a while,” she confessed.
His hands went to her hips as if to turn her over and she stopped him. “I want to be on top,” she said, causing him to grin.
He told her to set the pace and she did, climbing onto his lap and slowly lowering herself onto him. She groaned into his neck as she slowly lowered all the way down.
“Fuck Luca,” she moaned, feeling completely, incredibly full. After a short pause to adapt, she slowly lifted and lowered herself on her knees, the feeling of him dragging against her walls lighting up stars behind her eyelids. She pressed her face into his shoulder to hide the tiny whimper catching in her throat. He seemed to realize what she was doing. He reached up and gently tugged on her hair to turn her.
“I want to hear you, pretty girl,” he said and just the sound of his voice caused her to moan and lower herself harder. He groaned and then left careful bites against the soft skin of her neck. “Do you like that? Want me to talk you through it?” he asked, his voice dark and eager. She nodded without even thinking about it.
“Yes, please. Luca,” she gasped. She was trying to pick up her pace but she felt like she was stretched so wide.
“You’re doing so good for me,” he said, his hand coming down to her hip. “Do you want me to help?” he asked, slowly moving his hips up into her.
“Fuck. Not too hard.” She nearly whimpered at the end as he slowly ground her against him and her clit rubbed against his pelvis.
He kissed her softly. “Good girl. Thanks for telling me.” She clenched around him and he slowly, carefully, thrusted up into her. She gripped him tighter. “Was that okay?” he asked, his hand again threading through her hair and turning her to face him, her eyes meeting his. Something about his casual control of her had turned her into a puddle.
“Really good,” she said, leaning forward and kissing him hard. After a few more thrusts she felt herself start to adapt to the size and she started meeting his thrusts, pushing harder against him.
“Yes, more, please,” she gasped as she tried to ride him faster.
“So beautiful,” he said and she moaned as he flicked her nipple with his tongue, his hands still on her hips pulling her into him.
He flipped them over so that she was under him and started thrusting into her faster– harder. She felt her orgasm building again. “Touch yourself, pretty girl.” He gasped hotly in her ear. She nearly sobbed as she slid her hand down and started circling her sensitive clit. Her oversensitive body adapted to the stimulation quickly and she found herself clenching around him. He seemed to know she was getting close because he kept pounding at the same perfect pace, murmuring praises into her ear.
Her name never sounded so good as it did in his mouth, the feeling of him inside her overriding everything else. She reached her second orgasm, barely realizing his hips also started stuttering as he followed her over the edge.
---
Luca traced lines up and down her back as she snuggled into his chest. “Should we shower before you fall asleep on me?” Luca asked, fingers still drawing lines on her back.
She groaned, wrapping her arms around him tighter causing him to chuckle. She released him. “I suppose you’re right.” Sophie pulled away and sat up, looking down at him.
He was too perfect. His tired grin, and floppy hair, his hand reaching out for hers and playing with her fingers. She smiled down at him. “Come on then.”
Luca climbed in the shower first as Sophie looked in the mirror, washing her makeup off with the wipes miraculously provided by the hotel.
She glanced over at the glass door of the shower, fog starting to obscure her view of the man inside. She felt the nerves returning a little. Should she stay? Or was she supposed to leave? The idea of sleeping with him– waking up to him– was so appealing.
“Am I staying the night?” she called out to him, over the sound of the shower.
“Yeah!” he responded immediately, as if it were obvious.
She smiled as he turned and checked in with her, cracking the shower door open. “Do you want to stay?”
“Yeah,” she said, marveling a little at the beautiful man in front of her. At how happy he had made her in just one day. He grinned at her. “OK I’m coming in for a minute– but I can’t get my hair wet.”
---
He gave her one of his shirts to wear and she crawled into bed after him. Luca pulled her to his chest before she had even finished laying down. She wrapped her arms around him.
She was blissfully tired, drifting off to sleep almost immediately. Feeling more at peace than she had in months.
---
She awoke to Luca’s arms around her, his chest pressed to her back. She tried to will herself to go back to sleep, she didn’t want to get up just yet. After a few minutes, she felt him shift behind her.
“Good morning,” Luca murmured above her. She turned in his arms to look at him.
“Good morning.” She kissed him, soft and warm and still half asleep. His hand slid under the shirt he loaned her and his thumb kneaded a short path up and down across her hip, distracting her. What she had intended as a quick peck turned into long languid kisses. Neither wanting to leave the bed.
“What are you doing today?” Sophie asked as they pulled away for a breath. More awake but still caught up in the early morning glow, the comfortable warmth of Luca.
“You,” he replied cheekily, kissing her again. She laughed into the kiss. After a moment she pulled away, asking him more seriously for his plans. But he just kissed her again, hand sliding up her side to cup her breast.
She decided she liked this plan very much.
So Luca spent the morning thoroughly demonstrating how good he could make her feel with his hands, and lips, and tongue.
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veryberryjelly · 7 months
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🎃baking together & 👻pumpkin spiced latte with chef luca &lt;3
𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞
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emjayewrites · 7 months
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PASTRY PASSIONS (3.5/?) (Luca x blackfemoc!)
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PAIRING: Luca x Symone (black!original character)
SUMMARY: When Symone secures a coveted position as the social media manager at Noma, the renowned Michelin-starred restaurant, she is thrilled to be part of a team that pushes boundaries and captures gastronomic excellence. As Symone immerses herself in the vibrant atmosphere of Noma, she catches the eye of Luca, a talented and career-focused pastry chef within the same establishment. Luca is captivated by her presence, however, with his desire to maintain a clear boundary between work and personal life, he resists the growing attraction he feels toward her. Despite their shared passion for the culinary world, Symone and Luca find themselves entangled in a delicate dance between friendship, ambition, and unspoken desires. As the duo collaborates on various projects, from showcasing exquisite pastries to capturing behind-the-scenes glimpses of culinary artistry, they face numerous challenges that test their resolve. Amidst the intense pressures of Noma’s demanding environment and the weight of their individual aspirations, Symone and Luca must navigate their relationship in a career-driven world, where the line between personal and professional blurs, and decisions made can shape not only one’s heart but also their future in the industry.  
WARNINGS: slow burn romance, drama, angst, grueling work conditions/not-so-glamorous life of the culinary world, cursing, slight age gap, sexual content. RATED M (18+)
TAGLIST: @cinewhore @kdoxkeic @wakandamama @afro-hispwriter @nolita-fairytale @lovebittenbyevans @blowmymbackout @superhoeva @barefoothighlander @ihyperfixateoncharacters @soufcakmistress @celestianstars @vlvtkyssis @fadingbelieverexpert @arctvrvs @scottlangswife @lilyed777 @suckthatskittlebiiitch @write-fromthe-start @pantherxrogers @penny44224 @roxyfan14-blog @aieshawilliams2001 @cillianmirphy @sarcasticmrfox @zeeader​ @eddiemunsonreader​ @geekyfer @retrouvailles-film @stargirlfics @mauvecherie-writes @spellbinding10 @blckgrl-sunflower @beahil @stnexus @iamcurlycubana @motivation-idontknowher ​@shar74nett @blackpearlbutterfly @virgosapphire79 @a-lumos-in-the-nox @creativitybewarebeware @becauseimher @crispysublimecupcake
AUTHOR NOTE: This is my first fic for FX’s The Bear. This contains spoilers from Season 2, so please don’t read it if you haven’t watched it. In “Honeydew”, Luca mentions that he’s been working as a pastry chef/chef for 14 years, so he has to be in his early/mid-30s (32-34-ish?) and there will be a small age gap between him and Symone. Also, Chapters 1-3 are set a month and a half before Marcus’ stage trip in January. Please DM me if you want to be added to the tag list. Enjoy reading!
SN: This is a smaller chapter, around 2,000-2,400 words, and is set after Luca and Symone's night together....plus a surprise at the end.
CHAPTER III.V: Simple Syrup
SIMPLE SYRUP: A solution of sugar in water. Usually made with equal parts sugar and water.
December 2022
The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. Symone stirred, her body sore beyond measure, and the events of the previous night slowly coming back to her in fragments.
Without missing a beat, Luca's strokes deepened as he spread her legs to accommodate his wide body and powerful movements of his hips. Waves of pure ecstasy rippled through her body, causing her to convulse uncontrollably.
"Atta girl," uttered Luca as he plunged in and out of her moist depths. "God, you're so wet. Give it all to me...fuck Symone..."
"Oh, Luca," hissed Symone as her insides clamped around him. She was unsure of the number of times she'd orgasmed, but this had to be number four or five, which had to be some type of world record. Surely, climaxing repeatedly in such a short span of time was unheard of, yet here she was, in a euphoric high once again.
"That's it, darling, Christ Symone. That's–fuck!" Luca let out a guttural growl as he came, filling her up to the brim with his seed. Panting, he leaned over her, placing kisses on her neck. "You're amazing...Jesus Christ."
They continued until the wee hours of the morning, finding themselves in various positions.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she turned, finding herself nestled against Luca's warm and naked form. His steady breaths and the rise and fall of his chest were a comforting rhythm.
Gently extricating herself from his tight embrace, she pulled the sheet around her and sat up, her mind racing. She replayed the night once more; the raw passion, and the unspoken understanding that hung between them.
As she sat in the quiet, contemplative moments of the morning, she couldn't help but wonder about the implications. They had agreed that what happened in Oslo would stay in Oslo, but that didn't erase the fact that it did happen. What did it mean for their friendship, for their working relationship?
Meanwhile, in the bed, Luca stirred, blinking his eyes open. The sight of Symone, bathed in the soft morning light, took his breath away. He sat up, the sheet pooling around his waist, and his gaze locked with hers. There was a mixture of emotions in his eyes - desire, vulnerability, and something else that he couldn't quite put into words.
"Hey," he said softly, breaking the silence. His voice was a raspy murmur, tinged with the remnants of sleep.
Symone's expression was a mirror of the complex emotions in Luca's eyes. "Hey," she replied, her voice just as soft. They held each other's gaze for a moment, the weight of the unspoken hanging in the air.
Finally, Luca reached out, his fingers grazing hers. "Last night... it was..." he began, struggling to find the right words.
"It was," Symone finished for him, a small smile playing on her lips. She understood that some things were better left unsaid, at least for now.
They sat in companionable silence, the morning sun painting their entwined fingers with a warm glow. The world outside moved on, but in that moment, it felt like time had suspended just for them.
They both knew that this was a turning point, a shift in the dynamics of their relationship. What it meant, they couldn't quite say yet. But one thing was certain - they would have to deal with it together.
"How're you doing?" he asked.
"I'm...okay," answered Symone with a small shrug. "A little sore though. It...um...been a while since I, well, y'know, and you're....bigger than I expected."
She sounded embarrassed, and Luca's fingers flitted upwards to her bare shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"I understand, love," he said to her. "I was a bit unhinged, unfortunately."
"A bit?" she retorted with a scoff.
Luca rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. "Alright, alright, perhaps more than a bit, but it's all your fault anyway."
"How is it ever my fault?" wondered Symone, arching an eyebrow in confusion. "You were going at it like a madman."
"Ha!" laughed Luca, "Says the woman with the greatest pussy known to humanity. Fuck, Symone, you have no idea how long I wanted you and to have you, finally, it was so much better than I could ever imagine."
Symone cocked her head to the side in disbelief. "Really?"
"Fuck yeah."
She had to be dreaming, right? Luca and his sexy voice – hell, sexy everything – desired her this much?
"Interesting," she mused with a harrumph. There was another beat of silence between them and Symone's eyes perused his taut body.
Luca was in better shape than a lot of men she knew, especially those in the culinary industry, and he was tatted up. She only had the pleasure of seeing his arm tattoos, but he had torso tattoos as well: a Socrates quote above his right pectoral and a phoenix on his left hip near his Adonis belt. He was full of surprises, from his impressive tongue skills to that Prince Albert piercing on his penis.
Symone knew, deep down, that one weekend with him would never satisfy her, but she had to accept that this was all it could be. Things would return to normal once they were back in Copenhagen – meaning no more kisses and sex. For the time being, Symone decided to enjoy this little tryst and to reap in all the glory that was Luca Davies.
While she was dazed in her thoughts, Luca took this time to scoot over and wrap an arm around her waist. Placing tender kisses on her lower back and hip, Symone was slowly pulled out of her reverie, and she let out a soft whimper.
“I can kiss you forever,” Luca murmured.
“Yeah?” Symone said, laughing a little, only to stop when Luca eventually straightened himself in bed before leaning in and pressing a kiss against her cheek.
“Yeah,” he responded as his hands made their way upwards to cup her full breasts in his large hands. He squeezed her nipples in between his forefinger and thumb, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. “Yeah, I can. Do you think I’m lying? Come back to bed so I can convince you. I wanna taste you again.”
His assault on her breasts continued as his lips found her throat, kissing and then biting the column of her neck until she was rendered into a whiny mess.
"Luca....we have to eat..."
"Later," he uttered, pulling her down to the bed. "I'm gonna devour you first then we can get something else."
Symone's back hit the mattress with a small plop and Luca immediately hovered above her. His blue eyes were dark again, dark with lust. Tentatively, he made his way down her body, kissing and sucking as much skin as humanly possible before arriving in between her thighs. He exhaled deeply, savoring her womanly scent before going to town, once again feasting on her like a starving madman. He captured her pearl, her bundle of nerves, in his mouth and sucked on feverishly as two of his fingers explored her inner depths, curling and twisting in tandem with the movements of his expert tongue.
Moaning heavenward, Symone's eyes closed as her body contorted as she rode the throes of her passion. Arching her back, she felt the familiar butterflies at the pit of her stomach, informing her that she was on the precipice of a release, which to her amazement, was quite sudden. She's been with a few men in the past – four, excluding Luca – and all of them were rather good in the bedroom, but none of them had her orgasming in under ten minutes, and from cunnilingus no less!
God really did bless this man, huh?
Her body convulsed as ripples of pleasure coursed through her. Sighing in satisfaction, Symone slowly came down from her euphoric high and opened her brown eyes. Luca stared back at her as he sat on his haunches, an unreadable expression on his handsome features.
"Turn around," he demanded.
"What?" responded Symone, confusingly, as she balanced herself up on her elbows. "Luca, what do you—"
"Now," he voiced with a deep timbre. "Arse up, face down. Please don't make me say it again."
Whoa boy, she thought.
Symone quickly did as she was told without question or a smart-ass comment. Usually, she'd give him a piece of her mind, yet hearing him use his "chef voice" turned her on. She shivered with anticipation as she held the position, waiting impatiently for Luca.
In the meantime, Luca reveled in the sight that lay before him. Her round, brown, and shapely buttocks with wide hips to match and a glistening pussy were calling him, beckoning him to dive balls-deep without notice, but he somehow maintained control. He caressed her skin, marveling at the softness and perkiness then proceeded to tease her aching folds. Her responses greeted him delightfully, with moans of pleasure and pleas that went onto deaf ears. His penis was hard and a bead of pre-cum oozed from the tip.
Luca encased a hand around his shaft while the other toyed with Symone's sensitive flesh. He teased them both for a couple of minutes until, finally, he placed the reddened head to her entrance, pushing deep inside her moist folds from behind. His strokes started off sweet and slow with his hands finding their place on her hips, and Symone meeting him thrust-for-thrust. Soon, he became erratic, fucking her in deep and shallow ministrations that made her curse and yell his name.
"Fuck, Symone, you have no....fucking...idea," he groaned as he fucked her mercilessly. The arch in her back deepened into a bow and Luca enjoyed the sounds their connecting bodies made whenever he went in and out of her. The lower part of his shaft was coated in her essence and the sounds of her moans echoed across the bedroom.
If this was Heaven, he never wanted to leave.
"Luca, baby, oooh—fuck!"
Fuckin' hell, if she keeps saying my name like that...
He was going to cum, no doubt about that, but he'll never be sated of her. Suffice it to say, he was very close to risking it all—his career, his legacy, everything.
___________________________________________________________
January 2023
The kitchen was alive with its usual controlled chaos, the clatter of pots and pans, and the hum of focused conversations as the teams prepared for another busy day. Luca, in his element, organized the ingredient delivery, sorting bags of flour on a nearby counter with practiced efficiency.
It had been almost three weeks since their time in Oslo, but Luca couldn't shake the memories. Restless, he moved through the kitchen, acutely aware of how close he was to Symone yet unable to confess the desires that simmered beneath the surface. He hated how they slipped back into their roles, their lives, as if nothing had happened.
Out of the corner of his eye, Luca spotted a young Black man who was an inch or two shorter than him, step into the kitchen.
"Uh, I'm Marcus Brooks. I'm from—"
"I know. I'm Luca, pastry," he said, giving the new stagiaire a curt nod. "We start at 5:00 a.m. Your section's at the end of the bench."
"Yes, Chef," responded Marcus as he made his way over to the sink to wash his hands.
Although he was a few minutes late, Luca gave him props for being dressed to work: a plain blue shirt with black scrub pants and an apron. Luca's gaze traveled to his feet and he smirked at the Air Jordan 1 Chicago high-tops Marcus had on.
Switching focus, Luca finished up with his task then he began to teach Marcus the intricate art of garnishing desserts to meet Noma's exacting standards.
"So that's six o'clock. That's always facing the guest," Luca instructed, demonstrating the delicate process.
"Yes, Chef."
"You try," he encouraged, handing over the tweezers to Marcus. Luca observed intently as Marcus attempted to garnish the dessert.
"Nuzzle that sliver into the pudding just to lock it in," Luca advised.
"Yes, Chef."
Despite Marcus's efforts, he struggled.
"No, clockwise, Chef. Start the same way."
"Oh, yes, Chef." Marcus tried again but fell short.
"No. Again, Chef." Luca let out a patient exhale, making a mental note to inform Carmy that Marcus had a lot to learn and to consider an extension of his training.
"Sorry, I'm—I'm a little nervous," Marcus confessed, swiping a bead of sweat from his brow.
Suddenly, the rhythmic click-clack of heels echoed through the kitchen, drawing both their attention. Luca and Marcus exchanged a quick glance, before recognizing the newcomer's arrival.
And there she was, Symone, looking gorgeous as always in a pair of body-hugging jeans, an off-the-shoulder sweater, and her signature heeled boots.
Luca's gaze lingered on Symone, momentarily at a loss for words. He quickly composed himself by clearing his throat and introduced her to Marcus.
"Marcus, meet Symone. She's the one who keeps us all in line," Luca said with a half-smile. "She's Noma's social media manager."
Marcus couldn't resist a quip. "Good to know I'm not the only Black person here in Copenhagen. It's nice to meet you."
Symone laughed, a warm sound that seemed to capture Luca's attention. "Nice to meet you too, Marcus."
Luca managed to conceal his jealousy behind a polite smile as they exchanged pleasantries.
"You'll learn a lot from Luca", Symone assured Marcus. "He's the best. I have to finish up on a project, but I'll see you around."
"Yeah, I'll definitely love that," Marcus replied, his enthusiasm evident.
Her gaze shifted to Luca. "Luca," nodded Symone, bidding her farewell.
Luca's blue eyes connected with hers and they held for a brief impasse. "Symone," he retorted in a monotone voice.
Once Symone left, Luca and Marcus returned to their work. As Marcus attempted to try once again, which he was somewhat better, and in a moment of candor, he asked Luca about his relationship with Symone.
"Is she your girl?" Marcus inquired as he nuzzled the sliver into the pudding.
Luca let out a scoff, shaking his head. "Nah, it's... complicated."
Marcus leaned back, regarding Luca with a thoughtful expression. "Uncomplicate it, man. Trust me, it's better that way."
"And how do you know this?" wondered Luca, arms crossing over his chest in slight annoyance and pique interest.
Marcus gave him a nonchalant shrug. "I just know, man. Life's too short to be petty and playin' games."
Luca let out a chuckle. "Duly noted."
TO BE CONTINUED.....
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