DOES LOVE COME AROUND OR DOES ONE COME AROUND TO IT? 𝜗ৎ chuck timely
masterlist! taglist!
i need some high hopes lord knows i could use em!
long story short: chuck never gets laid. something about his personality made him “unlovable” or maybe it was the fact he’s always hungover, or that he’s always late, or that he’s really broke. one of those, probably.
one fateful day, you ended up at joys automobile, god knows what was wrong with your car. greeting you, was no other than mr chuck timely. you’d never met, but obviously you’ve heard stories. he greeted you with a big buck tooth smile, “chuck,” he said shaking your hand “what’s wrong with your car?” you explained to him, even though you didn’t really know what was up,
you sat in the lobby for a couple hours while he worked, honestly you didn’t know what was so bad about him. he was kinda charming? he’d pop out every so often to come say hi and update you on the status of your car. he comes back out a final time to tell you it’s finished, you thank him and pay but inside you’re kind of upset to say goodbye to him. that is until you get in a car and see a paper tucked in the cup holder. you unfold it, “316-348-4313 call me :)” oh my god. none of your friends could know about this, or they would be so dissapointed. chuck timely of all people.
you were knocking on the door of a small, rustic house the following night. he answers and greets you with a hug. “well are you gonna come in?” he jokes. he was honestly a really nice guy when you got to know him! you’d returned home satisfied that night, he wasn’t that bad in bed either.
but he still had the question: does love come around or does one come around to it?
AN: HEYY!! short little fic because i am so up i love you chuck timely
summary: chuck timely x reader. he’s the best man and you’re the maid of honor at the same wedding.
rating: e
warnings: smut, minors dni. submissive tucker/chuck and unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it). angsty ending. might become ooc later if we learn more about chuck timely.
a/n: tumblr’s first ever chuck timely fic.
—
September 2025
The bride and groom are tired of Chuck’s antics before the wedding even starts.
First, he’s late.
Then he shows up hungover, sneaking in halfway through the ceremony and taking his place like nothing happened. He’s unapologetic afterwards, grinning for photos while your mutual friends just tolerate him.
“You reek of alcohol,” the bride complains.
“Hey, at least I made it at all, huh?” Chuck says, patting the groom on the back.
“You’re the best man, Chuck! That’s not good enough.”
“You threw off the whole wedding,” the bride adds.
“Ah, come on, it wasn’t that bad!” Chuck throws a playful arm around his friend.
The groom shoves him off. “I don’t know why I even expect better from you at this point. You always pull this, showing up hungover, if you don’t just flake. You’re a shitty friend.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Chuck says, putting his hands up in surrender. “That’s a little harsh.”
“Get out, Chuck,” the bride says.
“Alright, I’m going,” he laughs. “I’m going.”
After he leaves, you attend to the less-than-happy couple, trying to cheer them up from what just happened.
***
You go out to get some air during the reception. It was getting too loud inside.
Chuck is sitting on the hood of a car about ten feet away, tapping ashes off his cigarette on the hood ornament before taking another drag. You approach.
“Well, look what the cat dragged out here,” he drawls.
“Is that your car?” you ask.
“No.”
He doesn’t elaborate.
You sit down next to him on the hood of the car.
“He’s right, you know,” he says, handing you the cigarette.
You take a drag. “What do you mean?”
“I’m a shitty fucking friend.” He chuckles. “Shitty fucking boyfriend too. That’s probably why I’m not married yet.”
“I don’t think you’re that bad.”
“Oh, yeah?”
You take another drag, a deliberately long one, before passing the cigarette back to him. “Well, aside from ruining a once-in-a-lifetime special occasion for everyone.”
“Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce. There could still be a next one.”
“I take it back,” you say, grabbing the cigarette from him again. “You’re an asshole.”
“Are you still seeing that guy Jessie?”
“Not really.” You inhale, then blow out the smoke.
“Good. I didn’t like him.”
“Okay. I didn’t ask you.”
Chuck shrugs. “…You wanna go back to my place?”
Your fingers brush as he takes the cigarette.
“Maybe. You live around here?”
“Sorta. ’S a motel room. I never stay anytime”—he coughs—“anywhere for very long. That’s the thing, isn’t it? Best man and the maid of honor?”
“I guess, yeah.”
“Is that a yes to hooking up or yes that it’s the thing?”
You kiss him. He freezes only for a moment before he reciprocates and his free hand comes up to tangle in your hair. He pulls back for air, bringing the cigarette up to your lips. You inhale deeply, then exhale the smoke in his face. He grins.
***
Back at his motel, he helps you out of your satin gown and then pins you down on the bed, lips hot and wet on your neck. You make quick work of his suit jacket and white V-neck tee, peeling them off to expose the patchwork tattoos littered across his arms and torso. Then you undo his belt, tossing everything on the floor as you go.
“I’ve wanted this for a while,” he murmurs against your jaw. “You’re so hot. You’re gonna be screaming my name by the time I’m done with you.”
“Oh, will I?”
“Yeah,” he says, yanking your panties down. “If you can still form thoughts.”
“We’ll see.”
“You don’t believe in me?”
Your fingers dip beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, carefully tugging them down. You brush your thumb against his hipbone, eliciting a small sound from him. You leverage your weight to roll the both of you over, straddling him.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
There’s nothing to tie him up with, so you have to make do, pinning one of his wrists behind his head. He gasps softly, his free hand coming up to rest on your hip.
You sink down onto him slowly. He stares up at you in awe as you begin to move at the angle you want. It doesn’t seem to matter to him what you do, he’s into it. He’s vocal about every thrust, his own hips bucking in response. The minute you let go of his wrist, it’s on you as well, running over your torso and squeezing lightly wherever he feels like it.
“Ah, fu—”
You lean down to kiss him. The rest of his words and noises are muffled against your lips. You prop yourself up on one elbow while your free hand tangles in his hair, pulling slightly. Chuck nearly whimpers. You don’t let up. His hands flex against your skin, his short fingernails digging into the soft flesh of your waist (you try not to think about the grease under them).
“I can’t, I can’t…” he gasps out. “Are you…? Fuck. Fuck.”
“Not yet,” you breathe, sitting up straight again. “Don’t you dare.”
“Okay, I… I’ll try my best,” he manages, his voice cracking from the effort. “Fuck!”
You’re getting close, but not quite there, so you don’t want him to come yet. He’s barely holding it together. Not that that’s your problem. This isn’t about him.
Chuck wets his thumb with his mouth and reaches down to circle it around your clit, making you cry out.
“That’s it, honey, please, please…” His words are desperate and a bit slurred. That does the trick, and you fall apart around him, collapsing onto his chest. He can’t hold on anymore, and you feel it when it gets the better of him, warm and satisfying inside you. You stroke his bicep, it’s meant to be a soothing gesture as it washes over him.
“Y/N,” he says. His voice is hoarse, broken, and awed.
“Yeah? Did you have a nice time?” you drawl.
He nods weakly.
“Good, I’m glad, baby,” you reply.
Even in the dark, you’re pretty sure he’s blushing. When you slowly climb off of him, he whines in weak protest.
“Shh, it’s okay.” You brush the damp hair off his forehead, laying down next to him.
His heavily tattooed arm encircles your waist as he buries his face in your neck and inhales deeply. After a few minutes, his breathing evens out into sleep.
You lie awake weighing your options, whether to stay the night or sneak out once you’re sure he’s out cold.
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