When Luca left four years ago, he took your heart with him and left you with a decision that changed your entire life. When he finally returns, rebuilding what you had is a little harder when you have a daughter he doesn't know about. A daughter who belongs to him.
âž PAIRING: Chef Luca x F!Reader
âž WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ mostly due to making out (no explicit sex scenes), hurt/comfort, reader is a big scaredy cat, some angst, amelia's personality inspired by morgan stark (marvel) but race is neutral/ambiguous <3
âžÂ WORD COUNT: 9.7K
âž A/N:Â told myself i wanted to write something small in honor of the bear s4 and luca's sexy return (esp him holding that baby!!) but i clearly have zero self-control. second part which is slightly longer than this one coming in a week :)
â
You always knew your past would come back to haunt you. All the secrets and vague responses. Deflecting questions like itâs your full-time job. The first year was the roughest. You practically wrote the book on how to avoid FaceTime calls with your best friend.Â
With Luca, you can imagine how difficult that would be. The man was too kind, too thoughtful, always making time for you despite the timezone difference and the fact that he was being ground down to the bone across the Atlantic.Â
Now youâre staring at the consequences of your actions.Â
Luca: Heading to Chicago in two weeks. Do you have time to catch up?
Every expletive you could think of leaves your lips. It shouldnât be a big deal. Itâs been four years since you saw him last. Four years since he left Chicago and never looked back. Maybe heâs only here for a few days. Whatâs a few days of hiding the biggest secret of your life from a very observant man who cares way too much about you?
âShit,â you groan as you stare at the blinking line where your reply should be.
âShit.â
The echo has you jerking up. Amelia stands in the doorway, grinning cheekily up at you.
âYou canât say that word. Itâs a bad word.â
âBut you said it.â
âYes, but Iâm an adult.â
âSo just because youâre older, you can say it but I canât? Thatâs not fair. Kids can do anything adults can too.â Her râs arenât even fully formed yet so her challenge just sounds endearing. You have a smart kid. Too smart.Â
Sighing, you scoop her up, which earns you giggles. She knows sheâs won the battle. âMaybe when kids start paying taxes, weâll talk. Ask me again in a few years. I donât want you getting in trouble with Miss Glinda.âÂ
Amelia grins down at you with those big green eyes. An exact replica of her fatherâs. She also picked up a lot of his kindness and patience, his tenacity. Thank goodness, because if she picked up any of those from you, you donât think she would have made any friends. God knows your stubbornness has gotten you into more messes than your parents would like.
Said father is the man whose text you still havenât responded to. Whose text led you to curse in front of your daughter. Your daughter who said father has zero awareness of.
This is going to be fantastic.
When you tuck Amelia back into bed, she peers up at you curiously. Sometimes, itâs like staring right at Luca. Her inquisitive eyes. The ones that could see right through you.
âWhy were you saying a bad word, Mommy?âÂ
You tug the blanket up to her chin as she sinks back into the mattress. âSometimes, when I feel really strongly about something, I say a bad word. Itâs not really a bad thing, but it might not be a good thing either. Itâs just when I feel so emotional that I have to use a word that youâre not supposed to use.â
Amelia quietly considers this. You can see the gears turning in her head. âSo was it a good thing or a bad thing that made you say it?â
Honestly, youâre still not sure. While youâre more than thrilled at the idea of reconnecting with a good friend and a former co-worker, his arrival in Chicago means that your current situation â in other words, you having a daughter â complicates things. For the duration of time that he is here in the city, you have to figure out how to ensure he never finds out about Amelia. It would be difficult to explain. Even harder now that sheâs four.Â
Plus, itâs not like you have to. He has a life of his own in Copenhagen now, working for the best of the best. He hasnât been back in Chicago since he left and he likely will leave again to never return. He doesnât need to know about her. Youâve been just fine on your own.Â
âA little bit of both,â you smile. âNow, sleep. This is the second time Iâm putting you to bed. If I reach a third time, the ogre underneath your bed is going to wake up and eat you.â
She frowns, âThereâs no ogre under my bed. You told me this last year.â
Curse your good parenting. âItâs the ogreâs other friend.â
Amelia offers you a sympathetic smile. Itâs a sad day when your daughter begins to pity you and your weak attempt to be stern. âOkay. Goodnight.â
âSleep tight.â
God knows you wonât be doing that tonight.
â
Perhaps the situation merits some context. For starters, Amelia is your four-year-old. Sheâs bright and optimistic, but sheâs also quick and snappy. Sheâs the type to challenge teachers at school as evidenced by the number of times she â and you â have been summoned to the principalâs office due to a teacherâs bruised ego. However, sheâs a good student and she makes friends. Sheâs never been too much of a handful.Â
Raising her has been relatively easy, particularly with the help of your parents and Rebecca, your other and current best friend, who adore her.Â
When you had gotten pregnant, your parents were unsurprisingly upset. They werenât happy that their only child was knocked up without the father around. No matter how many times they asked who it was, you couldnât bring yourself to tell them. You dodged the question multiple times, claiming that the father had nothing to do with the baby because it was your call.Â
It wasnât Lucaâs responsibility. He didnât know.Â
Still, Amelia has been winning hearts left and right since the day she was born. With her bright green eyes and mischievous nature, she quickly captured your parentsâ love.Â
With regards to Luca, she does ask about it from time to time. The father she never knew.Â
It isnât as if you and Luca ended on bad terms; you clearly didnât given that you still consider him one of your closest friends. Close friends with a massive secret between you.Â
It was just â there was nothing between you to begin with.Â
A drunken one-night stand. Thatâs all it was. The two of you were tight at Ever, the entire staff knew that. He had been the one to pull you out of your cold shell, introduce you to the rest, and ensured you fit in with the group. Ever wouldnât have been the same without him.Â
So after a particularly tough day and a particularly long night of downing two bottles of wine, it happened. The next morning is something your wine-addled brain had really thought about.Â
âLast nightâŠâ he starts.
âI know,â you clear your throat, covering your naked chest with your duvet. The last thing you want is to lose your friendship with him. No matter how much you love this man. âWe donât have toâ I mean, I get it. We had both been drinking.â
Luca nods slowly. âYeah, of course.â Heâs still shirtless from waist up as far as you could see. His broad shoulders even more prominent in the daylight. Golden skin through and through. You can see why your brain thought it was a good idea last night.Â
Youâre not blind. Youâve always known your best friend is attractive. Youâve seen the looks some of the servers give him, and even the customers when he takes the occasional step out of the kitchen and into the limelight.
But you canât lose him. Not to this.
You look up at him. âWeâre good right?â
âWeâre good.â
And the two of you never spoke of it again. A couple of weeks later, Luca hears that he received the opportunity to stage at Noma. No chef would pass that up. So within a week, he packs his bag and, with tearful goodbyes to the rest of the Ever crew, he is on a flight to Denmark. What was supposed to be a two-month stint turned into four then a full-time gig. Before long, he was bouncing around every fine dining establishment in Copenhagen and making a name for himself as a pastry chef. He eventually returned to Noma to take over pastry work there.Â
A week after his departure, you land with your face in your toilet to hurl your guts out. Then came the nausea and the odd food cravings. Working at Ever became unbearable with the mix of smells and your constant fatigue. When all the symptoms finally sink in, you decide to take a pregnancy test.
Lo and behold, two pink lines.
The shock electrocutes you. Youâre slumped against your bathroom dresser when Rebecca finds you the first time, panicking since you werenât exactly moving. Or breathing. It took a lot of crying and ginger ale (no more wine for you) on the floor before she managed to help you move to the bed where you proceeded to repeat the cycle.Â
Telling your parents was the easy part. Getting through the pregnancy was rough. Late nights of being sore all over, the constant trips to the bathroom, fielding concerned calls from your parents.Â
Some of the worst parts were Luca reaching out. Between calling you at times most convenient for you (he would be up until dawn trying to call you) and sending you check-in texts, you were consumed with guilt. You constantly skipped his calls, claiming you were too busy even as you stared at his name lighting up your phone in the quiet of your room. You told people at Ever that you were leaving to pursue another career path. When your body started to change, you took video calls with him with only the top half of your face visible.Â
You never told him. You knew what he wouldâve done. He wouldâve given up his dream and, knowing him, he wouldnât have even resented you for it. He would have taken responsibility. But thatâs not what you wanted for him. Luca was â is â meant to do great things.Â
His career so far is proof of it.Â
So you sucked it up. You had the chance to get rid of this unborn, nameless, faceless baby, but it didnât feel right. You could feel her growing inside you and, once you had that first ultrasound with your mom by your side, it was decided. You were keeping her.Â
Amelia came in wailing, kicking, and screaming at three in the morning.Â
The greatest gift you could ever imagine.Â
Sheâs been the lighthouse of your life ever since. She is the reason you get up in the morning.Â
Thatâs the gist of it. Now, here you are at the age of thirty, staring at your phone dreading typing a mere response.Â
You look down at yourself. Despite the frumpy clothes being all you find comfortable these days outside of work, you donât look that much different than you did before, so you could definitely pass as a woman who has never gone through pregnancy. You can do this. One meeting. Then heâll be back on a plane and gone again for good. No big.Â
You: Coffee? I could do weekdays afternoon
Luca: Sounds good. Iâll lock in a time with you closer to the date. Looking forward to seeing you again :)Â
The urge to bang your head against a wall grows stronger by the moment.Â
Two weeks to prepare for his visit. Two weeks to come up with a believable story for how your life has been going for the past four years as if you never had your beautiful, smart, amazing daughter. You could do that.Â
Your only concern is whether youâre able to lie to Luca. Heâs always been good at making an honest woman out of you. Keeping the truth from him when heâs thousands of miles from you is easy. But when youâre looking into those earnest green eyes, your integrity and skills will be tested.
You canât help the way your fingers wring together fearfully. Itâs a nervous tic. Your espresso sits steaming across from Lucaâs mocha latte. You could use the extra dose of caffeine to get through this conversation.
Hey, howâs it going? Whatâs new with you? Me? Nothing much, just raising the daughter Iâve been keeping from you and Iâm working in a boring office now. Howâs the life of your dreams?Â
A groan escapes your lips. You need to stop throwing this pathetic pity party for yourself. Now that Amelia is four, thereâs really no excuse. You could go back to the kitchen and chase that lifelong dream again. Thereâs nothing stopping you. Your parents are fully retired and would be more than happy to take her off your hands on long days.Â
But youâre not entirely sure youâre ready. Youâre much older than when you left. The stamina of these new and rising chefs is stronger than yours. Then again, youâve been through hell and back with Ameliaâs toddler years â god knows you barely got any sleep and became an expert on multi-tasking.Â
With Amelia, you also donât know if being a chef is even your dream anymore. You still cook at home, it gives you a chance to experiment and be creative. Thereâs no one breathing down your neck on how to properly prepare a plate â aside from your mom who makes sure Amelia gets her main food groups every day.Â
Itâs not as if you spite him for it. Itâs not his fault. You just need to hold yourself accountable for your decisions. That includes having your wonderful daughter and keeping her a secret from her father.Â
The sound of your name rolling off his tongue is all too familiar. Itâs almost like a caress. A ghost of a touch. You resist the shiver that snakes up your spine and look up to see him.Â
Fuck.
All those video calls did not do him justice. Itâs been a couple of days since he landed in Chicago and clearly vacation suits him. There is a slight dusting of stubble along his jaw and his hair is a little unruly, far from the poised and elegant styling he usually has in the kitchen. He looks older. Better. You didnât think it was possible for Luca to grow more into himself but he proves you wrong.Â
âLuca.â You stand, bumping into the table slightly. Curse your lack of cool.Â
The smile that spreads across his face is blinding. Familiar. Warm. âGod, itâs so good to see you,â he says first, voice dripping with honey. He wraps you in a tight hug. Itâs been a while since youâve been this close to him, since youâve been able to smell his cologne mixed with that unceasing scent of pastries. âYou look⊠wow. You look amazing.â
âNow youâre just being mean,â you laugh. âLook at you. All grown up. You werenât scrawny the last time I saw you, but I didnât think youâd be so⊠big?â
Something flickers across his eyes, but itâs gone the moment you blink. âWell, all that dough kneading had to go somewhere. Thankfully, that means I donât really have to hit the gym as much.â
âLife isnât fair,â you tease. âWhat are you doing back in Chicago? I thought someone would have to drag you here kicking and screaming.â
While Chicago had been home for Luca for a while, you knew it wasnât entirely easy. There is a lot of history in the city that he wants to let go, people he chooses to eschew if he can.Â
Luca looks a little confused by your question. âEver is closing. Funeral dinner is tomorrow.â
Itâs been years since youâve been involved in the restaurant scene in the city. Admittedly, itâs too painful to be reminded of the past that had once been your dream. So you nod slowly. âRight, of course.â
âAre you not going?â
You hadnât been invited, which also isnât surprising. You werenât a star like Luca or Carmy. You had been a line cook at the time and blended into the other chefs doing menial work in the kitchen. âNo, I donât really talk to anyone there anymore.â
âOh, where are you working now? Youâve never told me that actually.â
Youâre still not entirely sure how you managed to do it but, in the four years since he left, you did not tell him how you pivoted from cooking to an office job. It was more stable, better pay, and the hours were better. God bless company-sponsored healthcare. It was more conducive to raising a child.Â
âI work a finance role now. Boutique tech firm in the city.â
If anyone else knew Luca as well as you did, they would see the metaphorical jaw drop. âWhat? Since when?â
âTwo, three years.â Four.Â
He doesnât miss a beat. âYou mean since I left? What happened? Why did you switch?â
The lump in your throat refuses to go down. âI couldnât handle the hours anymore. I wanted to get home at a good time, make more money.â It isnât a lie per se. You just had bigger responsibilities that had you prioritizing reality over idealism.Â
Luca leans back, seeming to appraise you carefully. There are certainly more lines on your face now, weariness clinging to your skin. While life hasnât been too tough on you, it hasnât been particularly kind either.Â
âI didnât know that,â he mutters, âwhy didnât you tell me?â
Your lips quirk up in a small smile. âI didnât want you to worry. Knowing you, youâd be on the first flight back here to drag me back into a kitchen.â
A charming snort escapes him. You didnât know snorts could be charming until him. God, itâs stupid how fast your heart still races with him. âYouâre not wrong. I just never thought this would happen. I heard that you left Ever but since you didnât say anything, I didnât want to touch on a sore subject.â
âNot too sore, I promise. Itâs been good. I like it. Itâs straightforward and nobodyâs constantly yelling at me. There is functioning air conditioning instead of constantly sweating by grills,â you grin.Â
âThatâs definitely appealing.âÂ
âEnough about me. Tell me all about Copenhagen.â
And that gets Luca going. While youâve heard bits and pieces on your short calls with him, itâs another thing entirely to have him narrate this live in front of you. His hands gesture wildly to describe the chaos of the kitchens heâs been in. He swipes through photographs of menu items he worked on recently. Each piece is more impressive than the next. You truly understand how much heâs grown then. How talented he is.Â
Somehow, his being here and all these stories reassure you in your decision not to tell him about your pregnancy. This is Lucaâs dream. This is what he is meant to do.Â
âSo when are you heading back? Seems like you have a lot in the works,â you ask as you take a sip of your now-cold coffee.Â
âIâm actually here for a few months.â
Your blood runs cold. If this were a movie, you would do a spit-take. âW-why are you here for a few months? What about Noma? Are you taking a sabbatical? Do they even let you take sabbaticals?â
âI left.â
He says it so simply. Like a thing he does so casually. Leaving Noma of all places â arguably the best restaurant in the world and every chefâs dream. His dream. âYouâre going to have to elaborate here. What do you mean you left?â
Luca takes a deep breath and looks at you. Really looks at you. He looks contemplative, his arms crossed over his chest. âIâve learned a lot there but I think Iâm ready to move on.â
One doesnât just move on. âSo whatâs your plan now? Are you starting your own place?â
âSomeday. I still want to learn. There are a lot of great places here that I can bring my experience to. Iâve started asking around.â
Fuck. Here. âSo youâre staying in Chicago?â Your voice comes out as a squeak.
âYeah,â he smiles. âIâm excited. I mean, thereâs a lot I have to do still. I have to find a place to live. And my sisterâŠâ
Lucaâs relationship with his sister is rocky at best. With his parents divorced â not amicably at that, the two barely interacted. Even when the two were living in the same city, Luca buried himself in his pursuit of becoming a chef. You hear slices of her from him, but you know itâs a painful topic, so you donât try to push.Â
âIâm trying to rebuild the relationship there. Itâs going to take a while.â
âRight, yeah. Iâm glad to hear. Iâm sure itâs not easy so Iâm proud of you for taking that step.â
âRight,â he clears his throat, eyes dropping to his hand on the table where he fiddles with his napkin. âAnd youâre here.â
His eyes flick back up to you. Sharp green. Your breath hitches in your throat.Â
Fuck.Â
You cannot do this. All that hope that youâve quashed from your years knowing him, itâs coming back up. Itâs engulfing you in this warm, tingly feeling that should definitely not be there. The you that he knows, sheâs gone. She has changed so much that you canât even see her in your reflection anymore.Â
So no, you canât start this with Luca. Not when he doesnât know you. Not anymore, at least. âSo Ever funeral, are you excited to see everyone again?â
A brief look of disappointment blankets his features for a moment and you refuse to succumb to the urge to smooth out the creases on his face. âYes, Carmâs going to be there too so Iâm excited to see him. All the greats, of course. Chef Terry is still a legend.â
You hadnât even thought about Carmy Berzatto in years. The man terrified you back at Ever, and he still terrifies you today. Last you heard, he started his own place. Heâs always been intense, so you can imagine that he runs that place with an iron fist.Â
âHave you been to his new spot, The Bear?â
âNo, I havenât.â You havenât been anywhere fancy in a while. Itâs been a mix of Chuck E. Cheeseâs, Cheesecake Factory, and anywhere that has mozzarella sticks. Amelia is a big fan of cheese, apparently.Â
âWe should go,â Luca beams. âIâd love to take you there.â
On a date? You cannot even begin to hope thatâs what he meant. Again, you deflect. âWhat kind of cuisine is it?â
Luca doesnât miss that attempt, but smartly chooses not to address it. âContemporary American, I suppose, but you can imagine the Italian and French influences just given where Carmy has been.â
âSounds delicious.â
âYeah, shall we go maybe next week? Iâm seeing Carm and his CDC Sydney tomorrow, I can ask them for a reservation spot. I heard itâs tough to get. What time works for you?â
Luca is moving incredibly fast for someone who just arrived, and who plans to be there for a long time.Â
âWe donât have to rush it,â you laugh awkwardly, âyouâre going to be here for a while right?â
âYes, but I have a feeling youâll try and get out of this dinner with me if I didnât get you to agree today,â he says, his voice tinged with humor, but the arrow still sticks painfully in you.
He isnât wrong. You probably would use work as an excuse, despite talking about the better hours. But you have other responsibilities like picking up Amelia from school, feeding her dinner, and making sure she does her homework:Â
None of which he knows about.
âWeekdays can be a bit tricky with my schedule.â
âThe weekend perhaps? How about Saturday?â
Amelia has French lessons in the morning (her request, not yours) and then Rebecca is coming over so the three of you can do a quick painting session. Rebecca is insistent on nurturing her artistic skills from an early age.Â
The Bear is only open for dinner service which you canât escape without Amelia asking questions; the girl is too smart for her own good and you havenât been out with plans that she doesnât know about. Ever.Â
The dating scene changes a little for single moms. You havenât been on a date in a very long time. Itâs tough to get into a committed relationship with a child when you've just completed your twenties.Â
âLet me think about it?â
He studies you for a moment. âAre you seeing anyone?â
You make the mistake of taking a swig of your coffee when you cough, sputtering embarrassingly. Luca flails before offering you a napkin.Â
âSorry, shite, I didnât mean toââ
âNo, no, itâs okay,â you wheeze, âit just caught me off guard.âÂ
âSorry,â he repeats awkwardly, âis that a bad question to ask?â
You shake your head, urging your skyrocketing heart rate to let up. âNo, um, itâs fine. Iâm notâ Iâm not seeing anyone.âÂ
âRight, cool.â
The faint pink painted on his cheeks is noticeable but itâs better not to comment.Â
âIâm not either,â he adds, âseeing anyone, that is.âÂ
You fight the amused smile on your lips. Heâs already scratching his cheek, a nervous habit that he hasnât lost. âCool.âÂ
âCool,â Luca echoes in a chuckle.
For a minute, the two of you sit there in silence. All those years apart seem to evaporate, vanishing into the crowd. The comfort that youâve always felt around him sinks into your bones.Â
âI should get back to work, canât have my boss thinking Iâve disappeared on her.âÂ
âRight, of course. No rest for the weary.â Luca smiles. When the two of you are outside, Luca turns to you and immediately pulls you in for another embrace. âIt was really good seeing you.â
Itâs too easy to burrow your face into his broad chest. That nostalgic ache persists inside your heart. You donât feel like youâre thirty. Youâre twenty-two again in that kitchen, standing next to Luca. Both of you are young and carefree. The aroma of freshly baked goods that clings onto his skin and the sweat that dots his brows.Â
But when a car honks in the distance, reality settles back into your gut.Â
âYou too,â is all you can muster. âSee you around.â
â
By the look on Rebeccaâs face, you canât exactly pinpoint what emotion sheâs feeling. It started off with surprise and then confusion and more surprise. âSo heâs just back now?â
âUh-huh,â you say from your spot in the kitchen as youâre preparing dinner. Mushroom risotto, one of Ameliaâs favorites. This one is a labor of love but itâs always rewarding when you see the look on her face when itâs plated in front of her.Â
Thankfully, she had fallen asleep right after she and Rebecca spent the afternoon playing a game of water tag in the backyard so now itâs just you and Rebecca in the kitchen as you recount The Meeting with Luca.Â
Rebecca pops another olive into her mouth. âSo are you going to hook up with him again?â
âBec!â You gasp. âAbsolutely not.â
âClearly he was good enough the first time to give you a child.â
An exasperated sigh of disbelief leaves your lips, which only amuses her more than anything. âI will not be hooking up with him again. It was one time. Weâre friends now.â
âHoney, friends donât fuck.â
âFriends can fuck once.â
âIf you finish twice in one night, does that count as once still?â
You wave a hand in front of her. âIâm not debating the technicality of this. Point is, Iâve seen him once and I will not be seeing him again.â
âWhy not? Heâs clearly interested. He asked you if you were single.â
âSo?â
âAnd then he tells you â unprompted â that heâs single too.â
âI get it, maybe heâs interested. But Iâm not.â
Even your words sound unconvincing in your ears.
âIâmââ fuck. âânot. Iâm not. Anyways, I didnât make plans and I hope he doesnât follow upââ
As if on cue, your phone begins vibrating on the table. Both your eyes drop to it as Lucaâs face and name pop up on screen. Rebeccaâs lips twitch into a smirk. âSuperpowers. Good in bed and reading minds.â
âIâm not going to deal with that.â
âYou have to.âÂ
âI wonât.â
âAre you five? Why are you avoiding him? You claim heâs your best friend â which I take full offense to by the way â but you canât even talk to him.â
Groaning, you stare at the device still circling the surface of your counter. âI donât want to risk him meeting Amelia, especially if heâs going to be here a while.â
âHeâs definitely going to meet her eventually. Itâs a matter of when. Are you never going to invite him over?â
âWhat possible reason would I have to invite him over?â Rebecca opens her mouth and you quickly interject, âDonât answer that.â
Her gaze falls back to the device, then flicks up to you, then back to the device. Before you can stop her, sheâs swiping to pick up the call and putting it on speaker. You want to slap the proud grin off her face.Â
âHey, hope Iâm not interrupting anything.â Lucaâs gravelly voice carries over the speakers.Â
âNo, no. Just making dinner,â you respond, ignoring the way Rebecca keeps mouthing at you about his British accent.Â
âWhatâs on the menu?â
âMushroom risotto,â you say as you look over the boiling pan again.Â
âI remember that one. One of my favorites of yours.â You can practically hear his smile. Your heart skips a little too fast at the thought. âIf youâre willing, Iâd love to have that again sometime.â
Rebecca mutes it quickly just to say, âFucking Jesus, he wants in your pants again.â Then unmutes.Â
With a glare her way, you direct your attention back to Luca. âYes, maybe.â Noncommittal. Safe.Â
âListen, I was with Carm and Syd at Ever and they invited us to come for dinner at The Bear. Wondering what your schedule looks like next week and if youâd be interested.âÂ
âOh, I donât know, itâs a littleâ oh fuck.â
âYou okay?â
You shoot Rebecca a dirty look after she launched a fucking olive at your head. âYeah, fine, sorry.â
âGo,â she whispers.Â
âUm, Iâm not sure about my schedule next week.â
âI can be flexible. I know you said weekdays are a little tough but what about after work? Thursday night?â
Fuck. If Luca is one thing, heâs persistent. And he knows how your bad tendency to avoid things youâre scared of â which in this case is dinner with him, so heâs not letting this one go. âItâs a school night so Iâm not sure.â
He chuckles. The sound reverberates straight through your core. âAnd you canât go out on school nights, can you?â
Crap. His voice is like a sirenâs, luring you in to confess your secrets. The way he says it too â Jesus, the delivery of that question has sparks blowing up inside you. More importantly, you almost let it slip that school nights are usually a no-go because you need to get Amelia ready for the next day. âStill have to work the next day,â you laugh awkwardly.
âFriday then?â
âFriday is betterâŠâ
Thereâs silence on the other end of the line for a moment. You know heâs still there but heâs in deep thought. This happens sometimes. Youâve grown attuned to notice these moments even without seeing his face on the call.Â
âI just want to say thereâs no pressure. If youâre not interested, please feel free to say no. I donât want to force you to spend time with me if you donât want to. Youâve got your own life, I completely understand. I apologize, I donât want to overstep my boundaries.â
Fuck. Of course, he would be a complete gentleman in this situation. Itâs not that you donât want to. Everything is just complicated. Pushing aside those worrying thoughts, you say, âNo, Iâd love to. Sorry. I just have a lot on my plate right now so I donât want to make plans I canât commit to.â
âDo it,â Rebecca mouths. For someone whoâs supposed to be a fly on the wall, she is oddly intrusive. âIâll take Amelia.â You hesitate for a second and she gives you another look before she mutes the call again. âHoney, do it. You deserve to do something nice for yourself okay. And if itâs a nice dinner with a hot British chef, then so be it.â
Sighing, you unmute the call and talk to Luca again. âFriday works. Iâll be coming from work.â
âIâll pick you up.â
âNo, you donât have toââ
âI insist. Text me the address. Iâll book for 7:30 to be safe.â
âAlright, sounds good,â you reply weakly.Â
âSee you then.â
When the line goes cold, you look up to find Rebecca with a shit-eating grin on her face. âIâm so proud of you,â she exhales dreamily. âItâs like seeing a teenage daughter grow up and plan her first date.â
âShut up.â You roll your eyes and turn back to the stove. Your cheeks are flushed with warmth.Â
This is a date. Luca probably considers this a date. Right? It would be embarrassing if he didnât and you did. Maybe heâs just being nice and taking out an old friend to a restaurant he has been meaning to try.Â
âI can hear you spiraling,â Rebecca singsongs.Â
âWhy did you let me say yes?â
It is then that Rebecca physically gets up, rounds the counter, and grabs hold of both your arms. âI need to shake some sense into you. You are still a person. You are allowed to go out and have fun. There are people around you who can help you with Amelia. Youâre not alone.â
âI know this,â you grumble under your breath.
âBut I think sometimes you need a good reminder of it. Youâll have fun at dinner, I just know it. You spent so long pushing away that part of you because you think youâll never have it again, but â you know what â I think you can. Youâve always loved food and cooking. I can see it in the meals you make for Amelia. Maybe itâs just time for you to go out and explore again.â
Smiling softly, you always knew that Rebecca was your better half. She took you under her wing in college, stood up for you, and gave you the confidence to pursue your dreams. You had graduated with a degree in finance but worried for your life when you had to tell your parents that you were going to be a chef instead. She stood by you through it all.Â
âThanks, Bec.â
âWhere would you be without me?â
With a laugh, you nudge her away as you turn off the fire. Right on time, Amelia wanders into the room, rubbing her eyes tiredly. âHungry.â
Classic. She truly is your daughter.Â
â
When seven rolls around, youâve already spent the last thirty minutes fretting over your hair and the state of your makeup. The office has cleared out for the day, but you spent the last working hour playing catch-up. Itâs been a busy week for Amelia at Pre-K â who knew they could have so much homework even before reaching kindergarten?
You smooth out the wrinkles on your pale blue dress â work appropriate with the blazer, and chic dinner fit without. Since Amelia, youâve foregone wearing heels, opting instead for flats or sneakers since youâre constantly on your feet. But you pull out your white, open-toed pumps from your closet for this dinner.
Yes, you can readily admit that you are at least trying to look nice for this dinner non-date.Â
When you told Amelia earlier this week that you had plans on Friday night to go out for dinner and that she would be staying home with Rebecca, she didnât blink twice. She only asked what Aunt Rebecca had planned. When she saw you this morning dressed up with a little more blush on your cheeks, she didnât question it. Instead, she just smiled quietly and complimented you on your dress.Â
You canât believe youâre at a stage where she is making space for you. You nearly get teary just thinking about how quickly sheâs growing up.Â
A black sedan pulls up in front of you and Luca is immediately out the door. Youâre so used to seeing him in t-shirts, aprons, and sweatshirts that you forgot how delectable he can look when he cleans up. His blonde hair is neatly coiffed and heâs shaved his face clean. You find yourself almost missing that rugged stubble on his face. His navy shirt is freshly pressed with sleeves rolled up close to his elbows to reveal all his tattoos.Â
God, he looks good. Too good. Tempting even.
âYou look fantastic,â Luca beats you to the punch, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek. His eyes peruse you shamelessly, dragging from the tip of your toes to the top of your head.Â
Itâs a European thing, you remind yourself. âYou do too. Almost didnât recognize you out of your stained tees.â
His mouth curls into a smirk. âBelieve it or not, I do have clean laundry these days.â He swings open the door for you and offers a hand to help you slide inside.Â
Once the two of you are settled in, Luca pulls up the restaurant on the navigation system. He fills the silence with small talk, asking you how your day went and how work is going.Â
When you finally arrive at The Bear, Luca drops you off at the front and goes to park around the corner. Ever the gentleman. Stepping inside, youâre immediately impressed by how elegant the entire place is. Itâs neat with that fine dining touch, but thereâs a certain coziness in the air that makes it more welcoming. Luca joins you shortly after, stating his name for the reservation.
A tall man dressed sharply in a black suit comes up and greets Luca first. âGlad you could make it!â
âThanks for having me,â Luca beams back. He introduces the two of you quickly and you learn that his name is Richie and he is Carmyâs cousin.
âNot real cousin but his brother was my best friend,â Richie corrects easily. âLet me take you to your table.â
The service is impeccable and the ambiance even more so. Youâre marveling at how polished everything is. The window strip into the kitchen gives a sneak peek into the work behind the scenes, but your focus is on the main dining room. Beautiful booths against the wall, tables spaced just enough apart. You canât imagine that this place had been a casual fast food joint just months ago. Theyâve truly outdone themselves with the transformation.Â
âImpressive bunch,â Luca notes your expression. âNot to mention itâs most of their first time working in fine dining. While there have been some inconsistent reviews, the menu is generally delicious overall.â
âYeah, I donât recognize it anymore. I remember visiting this shop back then and it was holding on to its last hinges. Now look at this place.âÂ
The tasting menu is even more stunning. The bread is crisp on the outside, fluffy and warm on the inside, paired perfectly well with the option of freshly made butter. Appetizers were light, perfect to get you warmed up for the series of main courses. Desserts â donât even get you started on the desserts. Youâre pretty sure you let out an inappropriate moan at some point.Â
Your diet these past few years has consisted of whatever is microwavable, preparable with hot water, or whichever dish Amelia is craving. So youâve had your fair share of ramen, mac and cheese (Ameliaâs three-year-old phase), and lunchables (ongoing, on-and-off phase).Â
Itâs been a while since youâve had a proper sit-down meal at a fancy restaurant. Itâs hard to believe that you used to work in these kitchens. You used to be the person creating these meals. While your parents and Amelia let you take your own spin with the dishes you prepare for them, most of the time youâre too exhausted to do anything experimental and stick to what you know â and have in your cupboards.Â
Itâs nice to enjoy this kind of meal again.Â
You and Luca discuss dinner throughout, talking about the flavor profiles and the potential inspirations, the influences of each dish. Each item was made meticulously with careful thought placed into the flavor. It didnât feel extremely polished, but that just meant thereâs still a lot of heart that went into it.Â
âThat was just⊠wow.â
âTook the words right out of my mouth,â Luca chuckles as he wipes with a napkin. âI was already expecting to be blown away but that was out of this world. As expected from Carmy. And Syd.â
Richie comes back around and the two of you gush over how wonderful everything is. âGreat to hear it, team. Love the enthusiasm. Carmy and Syd have some time right now by the way, if you wanted to go say hi.â
âThat would be perfect. Let me just close out and not walk out on my tab.â
âI can definitely get you that.â
When the bill arrives, Luca is quick to swipe it off the table. âLucââ
Luca immediately shakes his head, dropping his card on top of the receipt and hands it back to the waiter. âMy treat. For putting up with me all these years.â
A frown forms on your face as you watch his hands fold on top of the table. âWhat are you talking about? Donât be ridiculous. Weâll split. Itâs an expensive dinner.â
âLet me do this one thing for you, love,â Luca says. âI wanted to try this place and I invited you so itâs only fair that I cover the bill.â
âLuca, thatâs notâ come on. Iâll send you the money. This isnât aââ you bite your tongue, stopping yourself before you can say the word date.Â
He catches on anyway, lips tugging into a smile. âIf I told you this is a date, would you let me pay for it then?â
Warmth creeps up your cheeks again as you wring your fingers on the napkin on your lap.Â
âFolks, are we ready to meet the chefs?â Richie returns, clapping his hands together.Â
âYes, we are.â Luca answers. Heâs giving you yet another out. Still the gentleman, he offers a hand to help you to your feet.Â
Richie leads you towards the kitchen door, drawing curious eyes from surrounding guests over this special treatment youâre getting. When you step in, your senses are immediately overwhelmed.Â
The kitchen is alive. Not just loud. Alive. A symphony of sizzles rises from the skillets as flames dance around the pans, blues and oranges glowing bright. Metal against metal as hot pans hit the stovetop, the scraping of spatulas against the surface. Another chef yells corner as they appear carrying trays of baked meringues. The chef at expo is reading out orders from her list, her voice slicing steady and clear across the cacophony of sounds.Â
The light overhead is cold and clinical, sharp fluorescents that bleach the space in blue. But the kitchen burns bright. The heat in this room is significantly higher than the carefully controlled temperature of the dining room.Â
Itâs nostalgic. It reminds you of all those years working alongside Luca. Your fingers wrapped around a cool piping bag, swirling icing on top of tarts. The aroma of pastries baking â golden crusts, caramelized sugars, berries roasting â was consistent in the air. There is a quiet in the chaos. Controlled chaos.Â
A comfort that youâve longed for. Your kitchen isnât the same. The people arenât the same, but thereâs a beauty in the newness. In the challenge.Â
Youâre pulled out of your thoughts when Richie yells, âYo! Cousin! Chef Syd! Lucaâs here.â The brunette woman at expo give him a warning look, which withers him only slightly.Â
There is a chorus of greetings when people spot Luca. Clearly heâs a fan favorite. When you turn to look at him, heâs already looking back at you. A gentleness to his gaze that catches you off guard.Â
Before you can attempt to decipher that look, two chefs make their way over to you. One you recognize as Carmy. His intensity is palpable, obvious. If thereâs anyone who could put these chefs on edge, it would be him. The other woman is calmer. A friendly face but an equally controlled presence. The two make a terrifying pair.Â
Carmyâs eyeing you with interest, eyes flicking between you and Luca. âIâve met you before,â he says simply.Â
You laugh and Luca rubs his face. âMate, you guys worked together.â
âWe did?â He asks the same time Syd asks, âYou did?â
âYeah, she was my second for pastry.âÂ
âFuck, Iâm sorry,â Syd laughs, crossing her arms over her chest. Carmy still looks completely befuddled, but also distracted by the stream of activity going on behind him. He mutters to give him a second as he deals with the searing steak. âI mean Lucaâs great but forgive Carmy, heâs not best at⊠remembering anything. Or math. Or picking up the phone.â
âAlright, alright, I get it,â Carm calls out, hands still moving quickly and efficiently to turn the steak and then quickly plate it for service. You canât help but marvel at how speedy he is. Heâs always been good but heâs only gotten better. Itâs terrifying knowledge. âHands!â Then heâs back in front of the two of you.Â
âNo, itâs fine. I wasnât there for very longââ
Luca chuckles. âYou were there for at least two years. You definitely overlapped for a while.â
âShit, sorry, Iâm just bad with â well, like Syd said â most things. But yeah, good to meet you again.â
âYou too, the food was delicious. As expected,â you shrug with a smile. âOut of this world.â Luca smiles quietly at the echo of his words. Â
âThanks, it took a while to get the menu to this place,â Syd nods.Â
Carmyâs still looking at the two of you. âThis is a mess, though. Donât let us ruin your date.â You see Syd elbow him, leaving him with another look of confusion.Â
Before you can correct him, Luca is already responding, âNo, this is great, mate. Iâve missed the Chicago food scene a lot. Ever was clean, but this feels very lively.â
âYeah, itâs been great. Budgetâs fucking fucked but itâs okay. Weâll figure it out.â
Luca looks at him in concern but the two chefs wave him off. âWell, I donât want to interrupt too long. Iâm just going to say hi to Marcus and head out.â A hand settles on the small of your back and suddenly youâre being directed towards the back corner of the kitchen where a man who is even taller than Luca stands (you note that there are many tall men in this establishment), his hands working away at these delicate little desserts.Â
âLuca, my man,â the man who you assume to be Marcus grins wide, dapping Luca. Youâre more bewildered that Luca knows how to dap than anything. âHeard you were on this side of the pond.â
âYeah, for a little bit actually.â
âNice,â he nods slow then looks at you. âMarcus.â
You introduce yourself too and add, âDesserts were perfection by the way. Sundae was inspired, love the olive oil.â
âThank you. I have to give this man right here his flowers. Learned a lot from my time there.â
Luca laughs, scratching his cheek. âNo, it was all you, man. Echoing that desserts were superb.â
âThanks, man. I actually wanted to run some ideas by you if youâve got time.â
âTime is all I have.â
Marcus grins. âPerfect, Iâll text you.â He turns to you. âGood to meet you. Never thought Luca would have time for a girlfriend.â
This time, you do jump in. Perhaps a little too fast. âIâm not his girlfriend,â you blurt out, âIâm a⊠friend.â
Marcusâ gaze darts between Luca and you. Shame sinks quickly into you. The defensiveness in your voice was maybe unnecessary. You canât see Lucaâs face but you can feel his hand shift slightly away from your body. The lack of touch leaves you feeling a little cold in the warm kitchen. âRight, my bad. Anyway, good seeing you both.â
âYou too, talk soon,â Luca says.Â
With a flurry of goodbyes, the two of you are finally out of the restaurant, standing in the slightly brisk evening air. A wind whips by, leaving you shivering slightly. âAre you cold?â Luca asks. âYou can wait inside and Iâll pull the car around.â
âNo, donât worry. Iâll just grab an Uber from here.â
âNonsense, I have a car. Iâm happy to drop you off at home.â
âLuca, youâve done more than enough. Dinner was wonderful. I can get myself home.â
Luca hesitates, gaze drifting into the street.Â
âThereâs no meaning behind it. I really just donât want to trouble you any more than I already have.â
âYou could never trouble me,â he says. Itâs almost a promise. You blame the heat on your cheeks on the touch of wind outside. âItâll make me feel better knowing that youâre getting home safely.â
You donât think he would drop this. Not to mention, it would save you the money on a long drive back home. Finally, you nod in agreement and he tells you to stay put as he grabs the car.Â
On the ride home, you quickly shoot a text to Rebecca.
You: Lucaâs dropping me off. Can you make sure Ameliaâs in bed? Thanks :)
âSo you liked dinner?â
You snort, âThatâs an understatement. I donât think Iâve had a meal like that in a long time.â
âIâm surprised. Youâve always been the first to try new restaurants, especially ones by reputable chefs. As intense as Carmy is, he is a fantastic chef. So is Syd, sheâs brilliant.â
A weak smile settles on your face as you turn to look out the window. The sparse traffic blurs before you in streaks of red. âJust havenât had the time, I suppose.â
Luca clears his throat and your glance flies back to him. His grip is tight on the steering wheel, his neck flushed pink. âWell, if youâre interested in exploring more places, I have a lot of catching up to do. We could go together?â
Youâve never been able to tell him no. Not when you want it for yourself as well. âThat sounds nice.â
When you get to your home, Luca pulls up along the curb. Just as youâre about to thank him again, heâs already stepping out to get your door. Fuck. âThank you,â you whisper, slipping your hand into his for the nth time that night. Youâre getting used to the feeling. âThank you again for dinner. I had a great time.â
âMe too,â he smiles. âHopefully the first of many.â
âIâll get the bill next time.â
Luca shrugs. âWeâll see.â
When he makes no move to leave, you tilt your head. âShouldnât you get going? Itâs late.â
âLet me walk you to your door.â
Your heart drops to the ground. You havenât gotten a response yet from Rebecca which is hopefully a good thing. Maybe theyâre both fast asleep, it wouldnât be the first time. The energy-exerting activities work as well on Rebecca as it does on Amelia.Â
âYou really donât have to.â
âI insist. Itâs the Brit side of me. I want to make sure you get in okay.â
All you can do is nod and walk up the pathway to your door. Your knees feel a little weak. If itâs the nerves or the proximity to Luca, especially since his hand has returned to your lower back, youâre not entirely sure.Â
When you reach for your keys, Luca shoves his hands into his pants pockets. His hair is a touch mussed up now, a strand falling attractively across his forehead. Heâs looking at you with that calm gaze, one that has your body all too aware of his presence.Â
âYou look beautiful tonight.â
âPretty sure you already said I looked fantastic earlier, beautiful feels like a downgrade.â
Luca laughs, the sound low and familiar. Your chest warms as you look at him.Â
âThanks again, I appreciate it.â
âDonât mention it. Iâm just grateful you agreed to go with me.â
âWeâre friends, Luca. We can hang out.â
He hums, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Something about the act has your heart rate picking up. âDidnât seem like you really wanted to.â
âItâs just been a while since Iâve been⊠out.â
âWell, if youâre not opposed, then Iâd be honored to take you out again.â
Oh boy. This is venturing into dangerous territory.Â
âI should head in,â you say, teeth catching your bottom lip before you can say something stupid like would you like to come in?Â
However, before Luca can respond, the front door swings open and you hearâ
âMommy!âÂ
Shit.
Amelia stands in the doorway in her purple unicorn pajamas. Sheâs looking up at you with bright eyes but then her curious gaze wanders over to the blonde man in front of you.Â
Double shit.Â
Her hair isnât an exact replica of Lucaâs, but the eyes are unmistakable. All three of you seem to freeze in time.Â
Amelia is staring at Luca, Luca is staring at Amelia, and youâre trying to figure out how to dig yourself out of this hole. First things first, you crouch down to Ameliaâs height. âBaby, why arenât you sleeping?â
âAunt Rebecca fell asleep but I wasnât tired yet.â
You purse your lips. âLetâs get you inside, itâs chilly out.â
âWhoâs that?â Amelia peeks around you to look at Luca again.Â
The thought of even looking at him right now is terrifying. âHe is my friend.â
âYouâre not going to introduce me?â Amelia asks, eyes widening. You know exactly what sheâs doing. Manipulative. The guilt-trip, puppy-dog eyes.Â
So you grit your teeth and plaster on a smile as you straighten back up and turn to Luca. Heâs still rooted to your porch, mouth pressed into a thin line and his brows puckered in confusion. âLuca, this is Amelia. Amelia, Luca.â
âHi, Uncle Luca.â
Polite, you taught her well.Â
It is then that Luca seems to snap out of it, clearing his throat awkwardly as he crouches to her level. He sticks out a hand, which she immediately accepts. âHi, Amelia. Itâs very nice to meet you. Though, it seems like itâs way past your bedtime.â
Amelia disregards his comment and instead responds with âYou have a cool accent. Where are you from?â
âI grew up in London but Iâve lived here in Chicago and also spent the last few years in Copenhagen. In Denmark.â
âThatâs so cool, Iâve never been,â Amelia beams, eyes sparkling in delight.Â
âWell, if you ever decide to go, I could take you around.â
âDo you live there now?â
His eyes snap up to you briefly, the movement surprising you, before they return to the little girl before him. âNo, Iâm moving back here to Chicago.â
âWhy?â
Luca is quiet as he pulls together his words. âBecause there are a lot of people I care about here.â
âIs my mommy one of them?â
The lump in your throat has only grown. The word mommy usually warms your heart but you can feel it stuttering instead. Your mind is running awry, wondering if heâs connected the dots yet, what answers you should give him if he asks. He doesnât need to know, you remind yourself. Heâll be here a few months and then heâll be gone again â and you and Amelia can go back to the life youâve always lived. Just the two of you.Â
âYes, your mum is definitely one of them,â Luca softly says, âSpeaking of, sheâs very sleepy. Maybe itâs best that you tuck her in for the night.â
Amelia giggles, âThatâs a great idea. She always tucks me in so itâs my turn.â
âMhmm, then you can go to sleep knowing your mumâs tucked away safely in bed.â Luca reaches out to ruffle her hair, which pleases her as she preens to the touch. His eyes widen for a second before they melt again and he strokes her head. âHave a good night, Amelia.â
Amelia remains by the door when he finally turns to you. Thereâs a storm clouding his usually bright eyes as he looks at you. Youâre not even sure what words are caught on the tip of your tongue, but they never come out.Â
âHave a good night, love,â Luca murmurs and leans forward to press a kiss on your cheek. Your eyes slide shut. God, youâve missed this intimacy with someone. Nothing could compare to his touch. The loneliness that has ebbed and flowed over the years seeps back into your lungs.Â
But your heart is still rattled by what just happened. You can barely move, let alone respond.Â
Then heâs gone, the roar of his engine echoing down the quiet street as he drives away.Â
Your mind is numb as you prepare Amelia for bed. Sheâs chattering about how nice Luca seems to be and how sheâs excited to see you making friends again. The only thing you can offer her is a weak smile as you press a kiss to her temple. She slides under the covers and is out cold in minutes. You leave her room quietly to drape a blanket over Rebecca, whoâs sleeping on the couch.Â
Only then do you head to your own room, weary from a long day.
The last thing you see before sleep pulls you under is your phone lighting up.
Thatâs the rule you learned early â keep your voice light, your opinions easy. Donât be a burden. Donât make people tired of you.
Youâve always been the one who gives more. You donât mind, most days. It feels safe, being the helper. The fixer. The one who says, âItâs okay, really.â Even when itâs not.
With Luca, you want so badly to be easy to love.
He doesnât know that. Not fully.
But you think he sees pieces.
Like now â when you're sitting on the edge of his bed in the soft wash of afternoon light, your hands clenched in your lap because you just apologized for the third time in an hour.
He tilts his head. âYou keep saying sorry. Why?â
You freeze. Shrug. âI donât know.â
But you do.
Because the thought that you might be too much â too talkative, too emotional, too clingy â hums under your skin like an old wound.
He doesnât push.
He just sits beside you, letting the silence stretch, safe and unjudging.
You were friends before this â before you started sleeping over, before he looked at you like heâd memorized the shape of your laugh.
You think itâs easier when youâre not this close. When itâs casual. Low stakes.
Because now heâs seen you nervous. Heâs seen you overthink a text for ten minutes. Heâs seen you flinch when plans change and you werenât ready.
And still â heâs here.
You donât know what to do with that.
You catch yourself one night, apologizing again.
Heâs cooking, sleeves rolled up, brows furrowed in concentration as he plates something that smells like butter and thyme and warmth. Youâre curled up on the couch, your socked feet tucked under you, and you ask â too softly â if youâre bothering him being here so much.
He looks over his shoulder, confused. âWhy would you be bothering me?â
You give a small, noncommittal smile. âI donât know. Just â Iâm here a lot. I donât want to take up your space.â
He pauses.
Then he puts down the spoon, walks over, and sits beside you. He doesn't say anything at first. Just rests his hand over yours.
âI want you here,â he says, quiet. âNot because I have to say that. But because I look forward to it.â
Your throat tightens.
He squeezes your hand gently. âYou donât need to earn it, you know?â
You nod. But you donât quite believe him yet.
Not yet.
It gets worse after a bad day.
Your boss nitpicked everything. Your train ran late. You had to cancel dinner with a friend who hasnât texted back since.
You come over anyway, hoping being near Luca will soothe the ache. But even then, your voice feels too loud. You laugh at the wrong time. You knock over a glass, and it shatters.
Youâre on your knees cleaning it up, heart pounding, apologizing again and again.
Luca crouches beside you. âHey,â he says softly. âStop.â
You stop.
He gently takes the glass from your hands. His fingers graze yours â steady, warm.
âItâs just a glass.â
You stare at the floor. Youâre blinking too fast. You donât want to cry over this. You donât want to be that person.
But your chest is tight, and the shame in your ribs wonât go down.
He senses it.
So he sits with you on the kitchen floor, silent for a beat. Then: âDid someone make you feel like you always had to say sorry?â
You donât answer.
You just remembered your father always yelled.
Your shoulders shake a little.
And thatâs enough.
He leans his shoulder against yours, grounding.
âIt's okay, darling.â he murmurs.
You fall asleep on his chest later, tear-damp and quiet, your body finally relaxing. He doesnât say anything when you cling to his shirt in your sleep. Doesnât move when your arm ends up awkwardly across his stomach. He just holds you tighter.
You donât know how long itâll take for the fear to go away â the fear that if you say the wrong thing, need too much, heâll leave like the others.
But youâre learning.
Because Luca stays.
Every time.
Without asking you to be easier, or smaller, or quieter.
Girl omg I neeeeeed to see fav pics of Will! gimme the eye candy
Girl you have opened a can of worms you're not ready for! Enjoy the frankly stupid amount of photos of Will I have save on Pinterest lol
My favourite flavours of Will are bleach blonde Will and long hair Will but that may just be cause I love a mullet and a weird 80s punk vibe so much!!!!
I highly encourage everyone to reblog with your fav pics! I wanna see lol
Sumary: Where you accompany Luca to Ever's farewell dinner and tease him into fucking you.
"Which earrings do you think go best with this dress?" you ask, watching Luca on the other side of the bed fixing his hair. He checks himself in the mirror again and then looks at you, holding two types of earrings in each hand, while he rolls up the sleeves of his black shirt to his elbows.
"I think the second one... it's more discreet. I think," he replies, looking at you expectantly, as if hoping he's right. You stare at the earring thoughtfully, shrug, and then put it on, looking back in the mirror.
You smooth out your black dress as you check that you are presentable for the event you are attending with Luca â the closing of an important restaurant. You didn't know there were ceremonies for this kind of thing, but since you started dating a chef, you discovered that the world of gastronomy is made up of silent rituals.
You feel Luca's tall figure approaching, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind as his face nestles into your neck.
"You look so beautiful, darling... God help me not to keep you here with me," he murmurs, kissing your skin and eliciting sighs and laughter from you as he gives you space for more kisses.
"I wouldn't complain. But I need to make it worth it to debut these heels you gave me. And, by the way..." You turn your body, making Luca step back to face you, with a hungry look that darkens his eyes. "I need to be elegant enough to pretend I know something about cooking, since I'm going to be facing several great chefs. Like you."
He snorts, smiling.
"You don't have to worry about that. The table we'll be at has people who are talented but kind-hearted. No snobby chefs who will scare my wife."
"So you'll stay by my side all night?"
"I won't leave your side for a second."
"I don't doubt it, with this neckline I'm wearing," you tease, raising your eyebrows.
He laughs and looks directly at your bust.
"That's a great incentive. I'll wait for you in the living room so we can go," says Luca, giving your butt a light slap before leaving the room.
You bite your lip, watching that figure dressed all in black, his muscles pressing against his perfectly fitted shirt. Just looking at him makes you wet. Of course, you'd rather be at home with him, indulging in couple activities instead of facing a sea of strangers in expensive suits and inflated egos. But for him, you'd go anywhere.
Still... you haven't ruled out what you've been planning since you put on that dress. A dress that hugged your body in an almost cruel way. And especially since you decided not to wear panties â without him having a clue.
You grab your purse, check your lipstick in the mirror, and leave the room to meet the blond man. Luca is in the living room, fiddling with his phone while he waits. As soon as he sees you, he looks up â and freezes.
"Fuck..." he murmurs with a low smile, putting his phone away and approaching you again, as if he were going to touch you but restrained himself out of respect for the impeccable time it took you to get ready. "You're going to have me flustered all night in that dress."
"That's the idea," you tease, smiling slyly, and he laughs, throwing his head back before taking your hand firmly and guiding you to the car.
------
Ever is full of culinary legends. It's a luxurious wake for a historic restaurant, with silent waiters, impeccable glasses, and dishes served like art. You're dazzled by the atmosphere, but also nervous. Until Luca holds your hand firmly.
"Come on. Everyone's already seated."
You're led to one of the main tables. When you arrive, you immediately recognize a face: Carmen Berzatto. Carmy. You know him from stories Luca has told youâand from the internet, of course.
He looks tense, scanning the room with the analytical eyes of someone who never switches off.
"Carmy, this is my girlfriend," Luca says casually, introducing you with a discreet smile.
Carmy just nods and murmurs a polite, "Nice to meet you."
You frown and glance discreetly at Luca, wanting some sign that something went wrong, to which the blond just shakes his head, silently asking you to ignore Carmy's behavior.
Soon after, Luca points to the woman next to him â with her hair tied back and an attentive gaze.
"This is Syd. Sydney. She's brilliant."
"Oh, I've heard of you," you say sincerely, extending your hand. Sydney smiles, surprised and shy, quickly shaking your hand.
"Luca exaggerates... But thank you."
You settle in, and for a few minutes everything seems to flow normally. The appetizers begin to arrive, and the conversation revolves around restaurants closing, nostalgic memories, and cooking techniques.
Luca delves deep into a conversation about fermentation and sauces with two renowned chefs. Meanwhile, you notice the insistent gaze of the chef on your left â younger, handsome, confident. He smiles.
"First time at a dinner like this?"
"Is it that obvious?" you reply with a smile, swirling your wine glass.
"Not at all. It's just that... you stand out. You don't look like a critic, or a chef. You just... look like the most beautiful woman at the table."
You laugh. A little too loudly. And you feel Luca's hand land on your thigh, under the table.
Strong.
You don't see him, but you hear him clear his throat and continue his conversation with Syd. Then you lean a little closer to the chef next to you.
"My boyfriend is a chef," you say in an almost confidential tone. "He taught me to pretend I understand the basics. Is it working?"
"More than you know."
Luca's hand moves up, his fingers firm against your bare skin.
You feel the heat rising, the game intensifying.
Luca continues talking to his colleagues, but squeezes your thigh harder, warning you. Then, taking advantage of the moment when everyone is distracted by the dish being served, he leans in close to your ear:
"Do you really want to play with me here?"
"I just said I was going to see a mural in the hall..." you exclaim, giving him an innocent look, as if you were the purest creature in the room.
You calmly get up, finishing your glass of wine.
"I saw something beautiful when we arrived. I'm going to take a look."
"Do you want me to come with you?" asks the chef at your side, interested.
Luca glares at him, annoyed by the audacity of the question.
"No, I don't want you to miss the main course."
And you walk away. Knowing that Luca will follow.
------
You barely turn the corner of the hallway when you feel Luca's fingers close around your wrist. Without a word, he pulls you into a side utility roomâstainless steel walls, a cabinet of glasses, dim light coming from a frosted window.
The door closes behind you with a click.
"You wanted this, didn't you?" He approaches you, his body pressing yours against the wall.
"Do you think this is funny?" he asks quietly, his voice deep and hoarse. "Playing with me in front of everyone? Laughing at that guy while I'm standing there trying to keep my fucking composure?"
"I was bored. I wanted to see how you would react, chef," you reply, smiling, breathless.
Luca stares at you for two seconds as if he's going to devour you whole.
And then he kisses you.
It's rough, hungry, desperate. He pulls up the hem of your dress abruptly, gasping as he confirms what you've been hiding all night.
"No panties? From the beginning?"
"Since you helped me choose the earrings."
Luca grunts. He lowers his pants and underwear just enough, takes out his hard cock with one hand while turning you around and pinning you against the cold wall.
In one swift movement, he penetrates you â deep, hard, direct. Your moan escapes loudly, but his hand already covers your mouth.
"Be quiet. Do you want someone to come in here? To see you being fucked like the provocative little slut you are?"
You moan against his palm, and he continues thrusting hard, each thrust making your body vibrate against the wall. The sound of his hips slapping echoes softly, muffled by the distant noise from the kitchen.
"You laughed at him, you flirted with him... but look who's inside you now."
He takes his hand away from your mouth for a second.
"Say who."
"You... Luca..."
"Who's going to make you come until you can't walk?"
"You!"
"Say it again."
"You, Luca! You!"
He covers your mouth again, now holding you tight with his arm around your waist. The tension of being discovered makes everything more intense. You hear footsteps on the other side of the door. Someone passing in the hallway... or maybe stopping.
Your eyes close.
You come. Hard, shaking, your moans muffled under his hand.
He thrusts a few more times, deep, almost desperate, until he comes too â with a muffled growl in your neck, his teeth pressing into your skin.
-----
You stay there for a few seconds, panting, sweaty, bodies still pressed together.
Luca kisses your shoulder.
"You're unbearable."
"And you love me," you reply in a weak voice, a dirty smile on your lips.
You both slowly compose yourselves, but the scent between you still gives you away. The crumpled dress, the flushed neck, the sparkle in your eyes. When you return to the table, the chef from earlier looks at you with a curious smile. But before he can say anything, Luca's hand rests on your thigh again â this time in silent warning.
He leans in and whispers:
"If you smile at him again... I'll make you come on my leg during dessert."
tags: language, luca is stressed, blowjob, some ball play, fingering, unproteced p in v sex, creampie, reader has hair that can be grabbed, doggystyle, pet names (baby, babe, sweetheart, love), dirty talk, mentions of aftercare, established relationship, reader and Luca live in London, Luca is hard on himself, some angst but lots of comfort
summary: When Luca returns from a rough day at work, you find a creative way to help him destress...
inspired by this audio (18+)
note: trying my hand at writing for The Bear đââïž I love Luca no-last-name so much tbh...
18+ onlyâminors DNI!
Luca sighed as he entered the apartment, his bones aching with exhaustion. Damn, it felt good to be home.
For lack of a better term, work fucking sucked. He'd worked on a new dessert recipe that didn't turn out the way he wanted it to, work was slammed today, and to top it all off, he managed to fuck up a creme bruleeâsomething he'd made about a thousand timesâand had to lock in and remake the dessert for a customer.
Luca changed into more comfortable clothesâa ratty old Arsenal T-shirt and some gray sweatpants. He rummaged in the pantry, grabbing a loaf of sourdough bread, along with a jar of mayonnaise, butter, some onions, and some sharp cheddar and Havarti cheese from the fridge. The workday stress was still weighing him down hard, and he needed to keep his hands busy and his mind on something else.
He focused on prepping for the grilled cheese, so lost in thought that he didn't notice you getting off the living room couch and sidling up to him.
"Luca! Welcome home, baby," you said, pecking his cheek.
"Hey there." Luca greeted you with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
You frowned, taking in how visibly stressed and exhausted your boyfriend looked. "Rough day at work?" you asked sympathetically. Luca focused on your lips, so pouty and kissable.
Luca groaned, running a hand through his thick brown hair. "Pretty fuckin' sure I had the day from hell today. Never been so glad to be home."
"I'm sorry, babe. Let me know if I have to fight anybody," you joked, coming behind your boyfriend and rubbing his shoulders. Luca sighed, relaxing into the massage. Fucking hell, he hadn't realized how tense he'd been.
Luca smirked. "You think you can take on everyone in London who decided that tonight was a perfect night to eat out?"
You kissed Luca's neck. "I'd fight the entire city for you, babe," you said with mock solemnity. Luca snorted. "Is there anything I can do to help you relax?"
Luca's dick twitched at your words. Honestly, the way you could get him horny without even trying is a skill that needs to be studied. He wouldn't be opposed to a little stress relief right nowâthe grilled cheese could wait.
He lazily smirked at you, pretending to be lost in thought. "Well, I guess there is something you could do..."
You sank to your knees, easily sliding down his gray sweatpantsâyou loved when he wore thoseâand his boxers, letting his thick cock spring free. You gave a little kitten lick to the tip, already leaking a bead of precum, and used your tongue to spread the wetness
Luca threw his head back, closing his eyes. "Ah, fuckin' hell, sweetheart. I love that mouth of yours."
You enveloped his length with your mouth, sucking him off while one of your hands massaged his balls. Luca grunted, grasping some of your hair as he gently pushed you further down on his cock.
"Oh, loveâtaking me so fucking well," Luca hissed.
You lifted your head up, gently sucking at his balls and leaving a kiss on his tip before taking his dick back in your mouth, covering him. That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's backâhe released himself in your mouth, and you dutifully swallowed his salty cum.
Luca gazed at you, the pupils of his eyes blown out with lust. "Need more of you," he muttered. "Take your clothes off."
You rushed to get undressed, leaving your clothes in a pile on the kitchen floor. Luca pulled his jersey off and bent you over the kitchen island, sliding two of his fingers inside you. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, gathering up your arousal and causing you to whimper.
"Cum for me, my love," Luca gently ordered, and your pussy responded accordingly, clamping down on his fingers as you orgasmed.
Luca pulled his fingers out, savoring the taste of you like a fine dessert. "You're so perfect, sweetheart," he said reverently, and you smiled shyly back at him, feeling filled with warmth and affection for your lovely British boyfriend.
Normally, Luca loved to take his time with you, teasing you and pleasuring you until you fell apart for him. But tonight? He couldn't wait. Once you'd become nice and wet from his fingers, Luca pumped his cock, thrusting into you.
Both of you groaned from the impact, and Luca grabbed your hips as he began fucking in and out of you, relishing the squelching sound of your pussy echoing throughout the kitchen. He growled, using you to fuck out all the frustrations and stress from work. Luca enjoyed the pitchy, breathy sound of your moans as he rutted into you, his balls slapping against your clit as he went deeper inside you.
"Feels like fuckin' heaven inside ya," Luca marveled as your tight, wet, warm pussy squeezed around his cock. "Can't get enough of this pussyâmy pussy."
You felt something hot and familiar coil inside of you, and suddenly you were falling apart again, cumming all over Luca's cock. He moaned, burying his face into the side of your neck as he shot ropes of cum inside of you, watching intently as some of it dribbled down your thighs.
Luca held you close, kissing your neck. "Thank you, sweetheart. Really needed that."
You turned around in Luca's grip, looking at him fondly. "I'm glad. It hurts my heart to see you coming home so stressed outâI know how hard you work."
"Honestly, I fucked up today," Luca admitted, clenching his jaw. "I was rushing and managed to screw up a creme brulee. Got so pissed at myself for not doin' my best work."
You squeezed Luca's hand, rubbing his knuckles. "It's okay! Mistakes happen, Luc," you assured him. "That doesn't mean you're any less of a chef. You just had one bad day."
Luca sighed, pulling you into a deep kiss. "I don't know what the hell I did to deserve you," he murmured.
You opened your mouth to speak, but your stomach grumbled loudly, causing your cheeks to grow warm. Way to ruin the moment.
Luca chuckled, shaking his head at you. "All right, let's get you cleaned up. Then I suppose I could make grilled cheese for both of us," he teased.
A good fuck, aftercare, and homemade grilled cheeseâyou truly had the best boyfriend in the world.
pairing: chef Luca x reader
word count: 2.6k
warnings: 18+, nsfw!!!, smut!, no use of y/n but luca calls you baby :3 (unf), unprotected p in v, little bit of fingering, dom/sub, orgasm denial/control, edging, angry/annoyed sex?!?, public bathroom
summary: âLet me guess⊠âToo proud to stageâ but just humble enough to fuck you in a bathroom?âÂ
author's note: um, so, this was my attempt at writing porn without the plot, but the plot got me!! the plot got me!! ugh >.< i'll try again. fyi this chef Luca smut has nothing to do with my fine line smut :) also i might write a second part?!?! anyways i hope you enjoy! the wordy peach <3
Seven minutes ago, you were sipping champagne, laughing with your cousins, letting the bandâs cover of Sugar by Maroon 5 carry you into that familiar warmth weddings are supposed to have. Then Sydney just had to lean in, casual enough to pretend she wasnât stirring the pot, and mention that Luca was definitely going to be the new stage at The Bear.
Now?
Your back is against the cold porcelain countertop, heels slipping against the tile as Lucaâs frame crowds yours. Somewhere between your third âyouâre better than this!â and his clipped âyou donât get to tell me that!â his hands had found the hem of your dress, and silk is now pooled around your hips.Â
Youâre both glaring, eyes locked, daring the other to blink first.
âI thought you were joking, but youâre serious â youâre really going to be a stage? At his restaurant?â Your voice echoes through the tiled room, sharp and incredulous.Â
Luca doesnât say anything, mouth screwed shut. His hand is braced beside your hip, the other grazing black lace â the panty he insisted you wear tonight. His fingertips slide the flimsy fabric to the side, letting the cool air hit your most sensitive area.
Your fingers curl against the counter, nails biting the surface, holding onto your anger to keep you steady. To keep you anchored. Itâs your cousinâs wedding, for fucksakes. Itâs practically a family reunion after years spent in Copenhagen with Luca while he chased, and caught, his dream of being a chef. Youâre supposed to be mingling, drinking champagne, catching up, delivering a speech in about twenty minutesâŠ
Not pinned in a bathroom with a needy cunt.
âItâs humiliation, Luca. Youâre better than Carmen, and you know it.â
The more you poke, the more you prod, the heavier his silence grows. And Luca just stares at you in a flat, bored way. Heâs done with the argument. Your words mean nothing to him, yet youâre still dragging it out. You grit your teeth, pulse thrumming.
Itâs impossible to look away. Heâs dressed too well for this fight. Black slacks, black collared shirt, hair styled to perfection. Fabric clinging and cutting in all the right places.
Luca looks untouchable.
Every inch of him screams control â making it harder to resist, and even harder to remember why youâre supposed to be angry when he looks like this, and smells like smoke and spice and something so distinctly him.Â
Then, Luca lifts two fingers to his mouth.Â
The wet sound of him coating them in saliva is obscenely loud in the tiny bathroom. Your stomach twists, heat rushing even lower, because he doesnât look away.Â
Not once.Â
The connection is so palpable it makes your skin prickle â Luca is doing this on purpose. All because you picked a fight with him, because you dared to tell him heâs better than your cousin.Â
âThis is about you proving something to him, not to yourself." you murmur, your voice faltering.
His fingers pop out of his mouth. Your chest stutters.
He drops them to your slit, peeling you apart. He starts just below your clit, gliding in an endless give and take motion â nothing about the way Luca touches you is careless. Itâs dedication. Years spent mapping your body, so of course he knows the exact pressure it takes to make you gasp.
Your hand closes around his wrist, meaning to stop him, to push him away.Â
But you canât.Â
Because youâre not in control. Luca is.
And he knows it.Â
The glint in his eyes tells you he feels the shift, feels as you lean into it. Into him.
âAnd if it is? What then?â He finally speaks, voice low enough that it scrapes over your skin.
His thumb ghosts over your clit, never makes contact. He knows your reaction by heart: a sharp inhale through your nose followed by a ragged exhale, squeezed through clenched teeth.
But heâs taken back by your harsh words.
âThen youâre not the Luca I thought you were.â
The real insult?Â
His pupils donât even dilate. Just that same bored, âare you done?â stare before muttering, âMmm, wrong answer. Try again.â
Then, he circles your clit, just once.Â
Your body jolts, and you try to cover it with a useless scoff, âWell, the Luca I know wouldnât go back to be a fucking stage.âÂ
A muscle feathers in his jaw. Not anger. Not even annoyance. Just tired. So fucking tired of your persistent inability to understand him. One by one, Luca plucks his fingers away, leaving behind a glistening trail of ache.
Then, he moves.
Clutching your waist. Hauling you up. Setting you on the counter. Slotting his body between your knees. Cold porcelain biting your ass. Breath rushing out of your lungs. Hands gripping his shoulders for balance.
The bathroom is suddenly too small, and too hot. Music and laughter filter in through the walls, muffled but close. You vaguely register the risk of being caught, but none of it tears you away from Luca.Â
He tips your chin up, inspecting your flustered defiance at being manhandled.
âGo on, then. Define me some more, baby,â Luca orders, voice dark, hand dropping to his belt, flicking it open before working on his zipper. âYou know how I hate half-assed prep work.âÂ
Your throat bobs once. No words come. Youâre still, silent, trapped by the certainty in his eyes that he has you right where he wants you. Every thought you had is gone, wiped out by the weight of his cock resting on your plush cunt, panty still shoved to the side.
âLet me guess⊠âToo proud to stageâ but just humble enough to fuck you in a bathroom?â
Thereâs no slow build, no easing in. Just a deep, hungry thrust. Nails digging into his arms. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, clamping around a gasp. Walls squeezing, adjusting. Every exhale comes out as a thin, nasally whine. Brows furrowing together, each line a whisper of it hurts.Â
Luca lifts a hand, fingertips slowly tracing them. His touch is light, teasing, and infuriatingly intimate. You flinch, slapping him away.Â
He smirks a little, daring you to try again.
âLuca, you canât justânngh, fuckââ
He shoves deeper, forcing your gummy walls to expand for him. Luca loves how your cheeks puff out, round and straining, fighting to stay quiet. Even after all these years, you still canât handle his stupidly fat cock.
Itâs cute.Â
Your hand drops to his stomach, trying to signal that you need him to stop, that he canât just take what he wants. He halts, pulls out a little, lets your cunt flutter around his tip instead.
His calloused hand cradles your jaw, grip just shy of painful. His thumb traces your bottom lip, admiring how lightly it quivers beneath his touch.Â
âCanât what, baby?â His gaze lingers, all honeyed and sweet.
You fix him with a glare thatâs not really a glare. Itâs heady, full of heat and frustration, trying to regain control over the situation you created.Â
âIs it too much?â His head tilts, just enough for the bathroom light to crown him. Gold-lit hair, sharp angles, and that permanent, teasing smirk.Â
Luca looks impossibly perfect. Entirely in control.
You nod, a little. A soft mewl escaping.
âOh, thatâs too badâŠâ He rocks forward, cock devouring the space inside you again. You wince, breath hitching. Itâs too much. The friction. The burn. You feel dizzy. Lightheaded. Invaded beyond comprehension.Â
But it's also everything you ever wanted.
Luca watches, mesmerized, as your face reddens. His finger taps your swollen cheek, pressing just enough to make your lips part in a gasp.Â
âAdorable,â he murmurs, âBut Iâm going to need you to breathe, baby.âÂ
He holds your gaze, waiting for your lungs to cooperate again. When they finally sort of work, he whispers, âGood girl.âÂ
His praise liquifies your bones.
Then, you feel the slick drag, inch by inch, of him withdrawing. Leaving nothing to clench. Your face twists into panic â is Luca just going to leave you like this â cunt empty. Sticky. Drooling.
Your fingers dig into his shirt, tugging at him. Your eyes start to water, trying to reason with him, âIf I didnât care, I wouldnât have said anything. I just donât want your talent to go to waste working as a stage again.â
You whimper. Itâs sad, and pathetic.Â
âLuca, pleaseââ
âMmhm, gonna have to cover that pretty little mouth,â Luca places his palm firmly over your mouth, the heel of his hand pressing against your cheek while the other hand locks onto your waist, holding you in place, âOr the entire wedding is going to hear you.â
With a single thrust, he splits you open. You writhe beneath him, grunting words that get caught between your lips and his palm.Â
Wait. Please. Sâfucking big.
He doesnât stop, giving you every fucking inch, burning through your limits until there's no room left, until he's completely buried at the hilt. Luca licks the tear spilling down your cheek, and lets out a low hum of pleasure, âFuckâtight little thing still canât take me, huh?âÂ
You donât answer him. You canât. Heâs knocked any and all sense out of you. Your chest just arches into his, neck tipping back. Luca uses his weight and strength to cage your body against his, and, he fucks you.Â
Each thrust is a reminder that heâs the one whoâs spent hours plating dishes you canât even pronounce. That heâs the one who lifted, endured, broken his body into muscle and precision until it became second nature.Â
âTell me, was it the 16-hour days where you watched me bleed that makes you think Iâm too good to get my hands dirty as a stage again? Or are you just going to miss being the only one who gets to taste my best work?â His fingers dig into the soft yielding flesh of your hip, body angling impossibly closer.
âBe honest, baby. I know you hate sharing.â Luca growls, tearing into the resistance like it's nothing, cock hitting that spot now â your eyes roll back, and your moans vibrate against his hand. He works it over and over and over. Showing no mercy as a hot, insistent pressure builds that's too tight. Too much.
Youâre right there, walls pulsating with the promise of release that never comes. Because Luca has pulled away, leaving you a shattered, ruined thing of almost.
A wet, broken sound crawls up your throat. Itâs half-gasp, half-sob.
It makes him laugh, a soft, disbelieving sound.Â
âOh, did you want something?â
You nod, a bit too desperately. Maybe even a little bit humiliated too.Â
âMaybe you shouldnât have picked a fight over nothing.â
His hand that seals your mouth is a brand, a reminder you canât shake. Each slow flex of his fingers tells you that heâs the one whoâs spent years perfecting pressure, and restraint.Â
He shakes his head, tsking, âSome insignificant bullshit just to hear yourself talk.â
Your stifled disagreement earns you a hard grind of his hips. Itâs just enough to make your toes curl, but not enough to send you over the edge.
This is where Luca keeps you, teetering on the edge, denied.
Because he likes this part.
Like the way your hips jerk, desperate, when he pulls back. Likes the way your lashes flutter, the furrow of your brows, the tension in your neck. He sees it all. Feeds on it. He could end this anytime. But why would he? Watching your thighs quake with the need he refuses to satisfy is half the fun.
And just to prove how practiced he is, how effortless his control is, Luca eases up. Penetration becomes shallow. Only giving you an inch, maybe two. Taking his fucking time, making every second count â again, again, again â until your nearly wrecked cunt starts making lewd, squelching noises and youâre clawing at him, whining in frustration.
A bead of sweat traces down the sharp angle of Lucaâs jaw. He doesnât wipe it away, doesnât even flinch. Too busy holding the line, too busy forcing you to stay in this dizzy, aching place a heartbeat longer.Â
The sweat is the only thing that gives him away. The only crack in his control. And youâd worship it, if heâd let you.Â
âI know how to stage. I know how to be a chef.â Luca leans in, close enough for you to feel the heat of his words. âAnd I know Iâm fucking good at it.â
He drags your hand to your stomach, covering it with his own, and presses down. Then, his hips snap forward. And you can feel the faint outline of his cock as it spears your cunt, owning you.
It makes you shudder.
âIâm not doing this to prove myself to Carmen â Iâm doing this because he needs a chef like me in his kitchen.â Lucaâs throat moves like heâs forcing down glass, tendons standing rigid under his skin. A swallow thatâs too loud, too telling. But his eyes are worse. Theyâre bright with something feverish, pupils swallowing the light.Â
âI know Iâm better than him in every way that matters.â
His hand stays firm as he kisses the corner of your mouth â a mockery of tenderness.Â
âDo you understand, baby?â
Only then does Luca lift his palm.
ââyes, chefââ
A knock rattles at the bathroom door.
You practically choke on your answer, eyes going wide with panic. Luca doesnât seem to care, smoothing his hand over your mouth again, steady and calm, as if heâd been expecting it.Â
âHey, you in there?â Itâs your cousin. Carmen. âYour speech is coming up...â
You twist, a muffled sound pressing into Luca's skin, but he just looks at you. Totally unbothered. Then, without missing a beat, his voice lifts, casual and lazy, âNo, sheâs not in hereâŠâ
Luca smiles. Itâs not sharp or cruel, but boyish. Soft in a way that completely disarms you, like heâs not the same man whose throbbing cock is still buried inside your cunt. He lingers, eyes sweeping your face before finally easing out. The loss is immediate, the ache cutting into the space just below your navel.
âLuca?â It slips out as a plea, a question you don't even know how to finish. You're half-undone, wound so tight. Head buzzing, blood thrumming hot in your ears. Desperate for the rest of him.
Luca just steadies you, patient, hands firm as he helps you down from the counter. Your legs wobble when your feet hit the ground, knees nearly give, and it makes him smile again â quiet, and infuriating. He knows exactly how wrecked you are.
With one hand lingering at your hip to keep you up right, Luca crouches low, helping to slip your heels back on, fixing the straps with sure fingers, like heâs dressing a doll he isnât finished playing with yet. As Luca rises, he sweetly adjusts your black lace panty before smoothing your dress down over your thighs with those sure, capable hands. Tugging at the fabric until it lies flat, until thereâs no evidence of what he just did, of what he almost finished.
âYouâre fine,â Luca says softly, though you know he's lying.
You're ruined.
His thumb brushes your jaw, sweeping a stray strand of hair from your cheek. A deceptively soft touch, domestic, ordinary. And then, quietly cruel, with the faintest curve of his lips: âWell, baby. You better get out there â got a speech to give.âÂ
contents: requested size kink so luca is hung!! basically pwp, slight somnophilia if you squint, unprotected sex, spanking, lots of pet names from Luca, reader receiving fingering, dirty talk, semi-submissive reader vibes, pulling out for backshots but some cum play still whoops
a/n: used a photo of will bc it fit the vibe so well đ can we, as a fandom, decide a last name for this man!! only semi proof read i fear pls ignore any mistakes. also no pronouns or real reader description used.
contents: 2.7k.
the climax right before morning's first light
Ë˰âą*ââ·
Your body feels heavy as itâs pulled from a deep sleep.Â
Thereâs warm lips on your shoulder placing soft kisses along your skin, a hand kneading at your ass while you wake up. You hum into the quiet room while burying your face into the pillow desperately not ready to wake up. âSâeverything okay?âÂ
Lucaâs chuckling against you, sliding his calloused hand up the back of your thigh while you stay lying on your stomach. He looks down at the sight of you illuminated in the moonlight from his apartment window, soaking in every inch. His hand cups under the bottom of your behind, giving it a little jiggle for his own entertainment.Â
âAllâs fine, my love. Didnât mean to wake you so early.â
You turn your head towards the nightstand and it takes a few blinks for your eyes to finally focus on the dim clock. 3:30 AM. Early enough for him to get up to shower, make tea, and leave out a small note of affection on the counter for when you wake up at a much more reasonable time. He typically doesnât wake you, opting to shimmy out of the bed but not this morning.Â
Thereâs lips on your neck now. âWas dreaming about you and had to make sure you were real.â His hand is sliding in between your thighs now, pulling them apart. Inches away from where youâre starting to crave him. Youâre whining in the pillow now while arching your hips up towards his touch. Heâs grinning against your skin and rocking himself towards your side. Lucaâs hard and heavy against you. âGonna go take care of this in the bathroom. Just needed a little touch of you before I go.âÂ
Youâre shaking your head now, trying to unpin your arm thatâs trapped between the two of you so you can find the waistband of his sweats slung low on his waist. âNo, no. Donât go.â The elastic is tight against your fingers as you slip your hand into his pants, fingertips brushing along his growing length which rewards you with a moan from your boyfriend. His hand gently slaps down on the flesh of your ass before he starts to pull away. You murmur out protests as you stretch your arms out straight ahead of you, fingers curling around the edge of the bed. Thereâs a rush of cold air as he pulls the blanket from your frame and tosses it to the empty side of the bed.Â
Heâs grabbing a pillow next and tapping his fingers against your side, grinning as you take the hint and lift your hips for him. âJust lay there, Darling. Let me take care of you.â Luca makes sure youâre comfortable. Taking his time to fluff the pillow just right. Running his wide hands down your back while still lazily waking up. The bed creaks under the two of you as he moves to kneel between your spread legs. He admires your stretched out form. The curve of your ass propped up and his for the taking. Youâre wearing an oversized cliche t-shirt from the last trip you took together and this old pair of underwear with a half worn off print. Not the sexiest outfit to ever grace this bedroom to say the least and yet Luca doesnât mind in the slightest.Â
His thumbs slide along the seam of your underwear thatâs stretched across your cheeks, warm hands sliding up your backside to your lower back to gently work on your relaxed body. He leans forward to reach up towards your shoulders, the length of him sliding against your ass and eliciting a moan from you. Lucaâs taking advantage of this position to rut himself against you, the feeling of your soft body under him working him up even more than he thought was possible.Â
âAlways so good for me, arenât you?â Youâre nodding against the pillow, turning your head to the side to press a kiss against the hands that are now on your shoulders. âOnly yours, Luca.â Heâs groaning above you and thereâs warm, open mouth kisses being pressed along your spine now.Â
Thereâs a shuffling coming from behind you as Luca makes quick work of kicking his sweatpants off. You feel the warmth of his skin directly on the inside of your thighs now as he sits back up. Heâs crooking fingers in the waistband of your underwear and finally, finally pulling them down your thighs and leaving you exposed to him. Theyâre stuck right above your knees - Both Luca kneeling between your legs and how far spread open you are making it impossible for them to go any lower. âAre you passionate about these?â
You barely shake your head no, because again theyâre old and worn and you find it endearing he even asked, before the sound of them being ripped off of you fills the room causing you to gasp out. Luca haphazardly tosses them towards the trash can in the corner and gets to work pulling his own boxes down. Youâre needy. Wiggling your hips through the air in slow movements to entice him. As if he needed anymore motivation. You follow his guidance and haphazardly make work taking off your shirt, balling it up and throwing it on his now empty side of the bed.
Since Lucaâs doing all the work you allow yourself to stay, essentially, half asleep. Your eyes are still heavy and hooded and your body lax against the bed. Heâs delivering one more small smack to the roundest part of your ass before his fingers find their way between your thighs. Normally heâd take more time teasing you, building you up. As much as he yearns to spend the whole day tangled in you, he does have to get to work soon. For now heâs going to be quick but he plans on taking his time with you again tonight.Â
Thereâs fingers sliding up either side of your folds, a slow languid motion to get you used to his touch before his middle fingers slips in. Youâre slackjaw against the pillow, letting out a stream of breathy whimpers you canât control. Luca knows you. Knows every inch of you. So heâs using that knowledge to get you ready for him. His pointer finger slides into you while his thumb finds your clit at the same time. Youâre wet, the scissoring and dragging motions Lucaâs making causing a slick sound to come from between your thighs.Â
âLuca, please.â He grins down at your backside, enjoying the view of his fingers working deep inside of you. âAlways so greedy, arenât you?â You respond by rocking your hips back against his hand and clenching down against his fingers which causes him to chuckle. âAlright, alright.â His hand slides out of you and smacks down against the back of your thigh. Your left behind wetness from his fingers attracts the cold air and causes goosebumps to rise.Â
You secretly like when Luca spends a little less time stretching you out then he probably should. The way your boyfriend stretches you out as he first pushes in you has become a piece of heaven. There are nights he spends as long as youâll allow eating you out and fingering you, toying with your pussy for his own enjoyment. Leaving his chin wet with you and a darken spot on the sheets until he fucks through how sloppy heâs turned you.Â
Not tonight. Youâre wet, yes. But you know thereâs going to be a heavenly burning feeling coming your way. The amount of care your boyfriend puts into you making you comfortable enough to open yourself in that way. Knowing heâd stop the second you asked if needed.Â
The head of his cock sits heavy against your entrance and you feel yourself desperately clenching around nothing. Heâs pulling you from your train of thought and your body is buzzing in anticipation. The slap of the tip of him against your clit causes your body to jerk which prompts Luca to use his free hand to grip your hip, holding you in place. âBe good, yeah? Let me get us off before I gotta go. Canât have you wet all day waiting for me to come back home to take care of you.â Luca lines himself up with your hole, sliding just the tip of himself in which pulls a moan from both of you.Â
âBaby, please.â Pride swells in Lucaâs chest as you start to beg. If he hadnât been gripping your hips then you would have rolled them back to take more of his length in you. Instead he goes slow, allowing you to adjust to his girth inch by inch. Even after dating for this long, you still werenât used to him yet.Â
Thereâs a bit of drool coming from the corner of your still parted lips as Luca works his length in. Your boyfriend was well endowed to say the least. A good length, something you could still take to the back of your throat but not so long you couldnât sink all the way down it. But his girth? That was unmatched. Thick, heavy, and all yours.Â
âFeel so amazing, Darling. Was dreaming about this pussy spreading around me.â Luca jerks another inch in without warning, a squelching sound coming from you as the movement causes some wetness to drip out. You canât form a thought when heâs got you like this. Your body is still relaxed against the bed as Luca stretches you out.Â
It takes a moment for him to bottom out and all your mind can focus on is just how deep he feels inside of you. The sensation causes your breath to catch, pathetically letting out whatever whimper you can muster and allowing him to use you to his heartâs content. Luca gives your hip a little squeeze as a warning heâs going to start moving, giving you a second to accept whatâs to come before the first roll of his hips hits.Â
Youâre a mess. Groggy still, already becoming cock drunk. Itâs easy to do with him. âSâfull, Luc. So, so full.â Even with his brows knitted in concentration as he tries not to instantly cum at the sight of your pussy stretched around him, heâs proud to get you this way.Â
But God does the sight of you already have him close.Â
Stretched out around him, filled to the max you could be. You look so beautiful like that. Luca fucks through all the wetness you give him, hips building a steady rhythm easily. His eyes flash over towards the clock and something about the pressure of a time constraint is making him a bit more feral than he expected.Â
His pace quickens and youâre back to being reduced to a drooling mess under him. Moaning out an incoherent string of pleas, praise, and curses. You couldnât repeat whatâs coming from your mouth even if you tried. His heavy balls slap against your clit which each thrust and Lucaâs grabbing your hips with both hands now to get a better grip on you. Fingertips digging in enough that bruises will be left as he starts to fuck into with a firm pace.Â
âSuch a perfect fuckinâ pussy. So wet for me, arenât you? Youâre gonna be sore all day now but you donât care. Every stepâs gonna remind you how good I fuck you.âÂ
Your head is spinning.Â
You allow yourself to be fucked by Luca, hands gripping the edge of the bed as you desperately clutch anything within reach to keep yourself grounded. Heâs⊠Brutal. Fucking you for his own pleasure in a way. He needed to get off and get off quick before work - But arrogantly knew how good you were for him. Knew that him using you like this would get you off too.Â
One of his hands gripping your hip loses his grip and thereâs another smack being delivered to the fat of your ass. He groans at the sight of you bouncing, the red mark already blooming from his hand. The burning of being stretched out is fading away and being replaced by the pure pleasure of your boyfriend wrecking your body.Â
His hand is sliding up from your ass to press down on the small of your back, a comforting touch compared to the brutal pace of his hips. Long forgotten is the sleepy mask of morning, Luca just chasing after pleasure for the both of you now. You purposely flutter yourself around his length, trying to pull him closer as well.Â
âCan you come for me, Darling? You can do that, canât you? Wanna feel this pretty little pussy finish before I do.â Youâre squeezing yourself tighter around him now, the soft pillowcase feeling rougher as your face continues to bounce against it. The room is getting hotter by the second around you two.Â
Something about the combination of circumstances has you getting close to finishing far faster than normal. You catch yourself biting down on the pillow as Luca drags his nails down the soft skin of your back, his hips not losing pace as the all too familiar sensation starts to coil up deep inside of you.Â
Youâre crying out at the sensation, pussy tightening around him as your orgasm rocks through your body. Toe curling, back arching, clit throbbing orgasm. You collapse even further into the bed, a mess of breathless whimpers as Luca continues to fuck through your sensitive body. God you sound lewd with how wet you ended up.Â
Lucaâs quick to follow after watching you come undone around him. Â
Heâs moaning out your name, giving a few more pumps through your wetness before quickly pulling out. Stroking his soaked length to keep the sensation and then you feel warmth splattering along your ass and back as he cums on you. Heâs breathless and whiney, teasing his own overstimulated cock behind you. Thumb swiping along his tip to collect the last droplets before wiping it in-between your folds and pressing it into you.Â
As much as he loved cumming in you, he wanted to make sure he had time to get you cleaned up before he had to leave but he still couldnât leave you without anything left inside of you.Â
Luca drags you to the bathroom after he gives you a moment to collect yourself. Normally heâd take his time with aftercare but sadly heâs lacking just that - time. You use the restroom while he draws the two of you a shower and take a good look at yourself in the mirror while he corrects the water temperature. Healing hickies low on your chest, your hair looking crazy from the combination of sleeping and being wrecked. Heâs got twenty minutes left before he runs out of time to make his breakfast but he refuses to leave you in a pile in the bed.Â
He makes quick work of washing off your over sensitive body, letting you stand there and run your fingers along his chest, his arms, whatever inch of skin you can reach. âYouâre so pretty.âÂ
Now after what just happened in the bedroom? Youâd think nothing would phase him.Â
But Lucaâs cheeks are going bright red at the compliment. He cups your face with his soapy hands, bringing you two together for a kiss as a silent thank you.Â
Luca gets you dried off and sends you back to bed with a pat on your ass. Heâs rushing to get ready for work while you lay down in a lump on the bed. Towel tight around your body and the covers long forgotten. It takes a few minutes for him to emerge from the bathroom clothed and hair gelled but he canât help laughing at the sight of you. You feel the towel being tugged away from your body, the previously discarded blanket being tucked around you and a kiss pressed to the top of your head.Â
Ë˰âą*ââ·
He leaves everything you need for your morning tea sitting on the counter before running out the door.