#the bear will poulter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inklore · 10 months

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just a taste

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

pairing: luca x (f)reader

word count: 3.1k

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

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

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

But this was a ritual for the both of you.

You finishing your studies and then meeting him after work.

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

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

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

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

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

See him doing what he loves.

It’s like the first time every time.

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

Taste Luca’s creations forever.

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

Nothing seems to fade with Luca.

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

It knocks you off kilter in the best way.

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

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

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

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

It couldn’t.

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

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

The stern gentleness of it all.

It’s breathtaking to watch.

It’s art.

He’s art.

So that’s what you do.

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

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

“Good. We got a new guy who came in.”

“Is he any good?”

“Better than he thinks he is.”

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

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

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

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

But it still brings a smile to your face.

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

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

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

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

The moan you let out makes him grin.

“Good?”

“Is he single?”

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

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

“And a girlfriend?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And how could you argue with that?

You can’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The two of you need this.

Need each other.

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

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

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

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

“Who’s pussy is it, baby?”

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

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

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

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

#luca x reader #will poulter x reader #luca the bear #will poulter smut #luca smut #luca x you #luca the bear x you #the bear #the bear fanfiction #will poulter x you #the bear fx #the bear one shot #will poulter fic #the bear x reader #will poulter #adam warlock smut #luca one shot #the bear imagine

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goodsirs · 10 months

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Will Poulter as Luca in The Bear — 2.04 "Honeydew"

#the bear #the bear fx #will poulter #luca the bear #thebearedit #tvedit #wpoulteredit #willpoulteredit #*

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drrav3nb · 11 months

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MARCUS & LUCA | THE BEAR SEASON TWO

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greenorangevioletgrass · 9 months

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give me a minute (1/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: established former relationship, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, discussions of separation and divorce, luca and reader has a son, unresolved sexual tension 👀 notes: this fic has been the bane of my existence for the last couple of months or so. it all started as a simple thought of "ooh it would be fun to have a steamy smut with ex!luca" and then it turns into a whole thing with like proper angst and stuff lol. this will be split into two parts, and i think i need encouragement to finish the second part. so please enjoy this first part and tell me what you think! ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted of my latest fics! ✨

03:49 PM

Everything is fine, you keep telling yourself.

Your soon-to-be ex-husband is flying in from Denmark to finalize the divorce—and even after two years of exhaustive paperwork and mediations and court proceedings, you still don’t know how to feel about this. His visit to New York is meant to be a consolation prize for your six-year-old son Alfie, whose only facetime with his dad lately is through… well, FaceTime. But, given how extraordinarily difficult he’s being—fussing over his breakfast, stalling shower time by a record of 48 minutes, refusing to wear anything you picked out for him… you have an inkling that he might be a little nervous to see his father.

And to make matters worse, it’s raining cats and dogs outside, which delays Luca by two hours now and actively threatens the zoo outing he has planned out for him and Alfie.

So… despite the shitstorm that is happening in your apartment and out, you keep telling yourself that everything is fine.

Because it is. Your home is tidy enough, with all the toys and the mess tucked away in their little cubbies. Your son is dressed up enough; he’s finally put on his pants and shirt, although you missed a button and he won’t let you fix it. The storm is outside, and you’re safely sheltered in. And your relationship with your ex is civil enough, so you feel…

Fine enough.

But the doorman buzzes in, and you can definitely tell the awkwardness in his voice. “Afternoon, Ma’am. I have your husband— I mean, Chef Luca— I mean Mr. Bailey—”

You sigh, not having the energy to let this go on. “Yeah, yeah. Send him up.”

Alfie looks up from his coloring book and practically jumps out of the couch. “My tummy hurts, I’m gonna make a doodie!”

“No running!” You remind him just a second too late, watching him dash over to the bathroom and slamming the door closed. He has a nervous stomach just like you, and as you feel the icky twist in your gut… you can’t help but empathize with his antics today. You would be fucking shit up too, if you only could.

There’s a knock at the door, and you brace yourself as if you’re about to let the storm itself in (although, quite frankly, you probably are). Your hand feels clammy, and you have to wipe it off on your dress before you unlock the door and turn the knob.

“Hey.”

If the storm was a person, you wouldn’t have associated it with the man standing before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With boyish features and dark blond locks like gentle daylight. It feels like a reach to imagine the seven years of your relationship with him was, indeed, an epic fucking hurricane.

Still.

You can’t help that you miss him.

“Come on in.” You step aside, not really meeting his gaze.

He murmurs a small thanks and apology, a staple combination in Luca’s British vernacular, as he squeezes in through the door with his duffel bag and suitcase.

“I thought you’d dropped these off at your hotel before you came here.”

“I know. I was going to, but…” he puts down his bags close to the jacket closet, like he always does, “But I got held up for ages and traffic was awful and I didn’t want Alfie to wait even longer, so…”

“Right.” You nod absently. “Well. He’s in the bathroom, should be out in a second, so… have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Um, water’s fine.” He takes his seat on the dining table.

You’re not sure which one is more jarring; the sheer familiarity of this, or the fact that it isn’t anymore. The two of you just hovering in the home you used to share, courteous but distant.

Luca looks around the place, and notices all the differences right away. You kept the glass dining table and two of the chairs, but changed the corner seating into a plush dining bench against the kitchen island. He recognizes Alfie’s favorite stuffed bunny on the couch, although the throw pillows were new. But he takes one look at the wall… and his heart drops.

Gone are any traces of him in the snapshots of your life. The pictures are all of you and Alfie—eating ice cream in the park, grinning and showing his first lost tooth, dressed up on Halloween… He really shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed to find the wedding portrait gone, or the vacation selfie in Italy four years ago. But it hurts quite a bit to find a generic flower portrait replacing the picture of him kissing you on the forehead while Alfie, laying on your chest, merely hours after his birth.

“Yeah, I…” you clear your throat as you hand him the glass of water, “…did some redecorating.”

“It looks good.” He manages a stiff nod, taking a hesitant swig of water.

“You look…” good, you want to say. Because he is. He’s got that tan and the haircut that reminds you of when you first met him years ago. But you can’t say that. So you settle with, “You look well.”

He meets your eyes, really meets your eyes for the first time, and you try to convince yourself the little flutter you feel inside is just your nervous stomach. But he smiles, soft and earnest. “So do you.”

You turn back and open the fridge, welcoming the cold air and how it cools down the burning warmth on your cheeks. Trying not to freak out and decide what you’re getting, so you don’t look like an idiot. Your hand grabs a can of ginger ale, and you sigh in relief.

“How’s Alfie doing in school?”

“He’s doing alright. He’s enjoying his art classes. Math is still a struggle, but Ms. Rashad says his reading is quite advanced for his age.” You relax a little bit into the conversation. The topic of your son resets you a little bit into a somewhat common ground as co-parents. Plain and simple.

“Definitely takes after you. My dyslexic ass could never.”

You smile at that. Small jokes are still there, always a good sign.

“And the, uh…” he lowers his voice, “the anxiety?”

“Comes and goes. He’s been complaining about a stomach ache all day.” You glance towards the bathroom.

He frowns in concern. “Should we go check on him?”

“Sure…” You walk together with Luca following suit, tentatively knocking at the door. “Alfie? Hey bub, how’s your doodie?” It sounds silly, but you find it helps to ask open questions instead of showing your worries outright.

A flush from inside. “There’s no doodie,” he hollers. His voice is murmured from the barrier, and then the running tap water.

You catch the unease in Luca’s features, and you feel a little bad for him. It wouldn’t feel great that your own son is nervous to see you after many months apart. “You wanna come out, then? Your dad’s here.” You try to sound cheerful and upbeat, hoping it’ll hype them both up.

The two-second gap never felt so long. But the door opens, and there he is, standing meekly against the frame. Staring up at you and then at Luca.

Luca’s heart nearly stops as those big doe eyes stare up at him, a spitting image of you. The same softness. The same spark of stubbornness.

The same vulnerable look.

“Hey, bub.”

“Hi.”

“Can I get a hug?”

There’s a brief pause, before he steps forward and throws his arms around his father’s middle. Luca grunts softly, a little surprised by the sheer force Alfie is hugging him, his heart swelling three times over.

“Oh my God, look at you!” He ruffles the boy’s dark hair and kneels down to level with him. His cherubic face is small cupped in his large hand, but not as small as Luca remembered it. “You’re so tall now!”

“Of course. I’m 3 feet and 8 inches tall now. Right, Mommy?” He proudly announces, getting the exact height completely memorized.

“That’s right,” you confirm with a grin.

Luca gasps, a smile blooming on his face. “What?”

Alfie nods. “I’m gonna be as tall as you.”

“No! Don’t grow up so fast!” He playfully cries out.

“Why?”

“Because I won’t get to do this anymore!” Luca seizes his boy into his arms and sweeps him off of his bunny-socked feet, sending Alfie into a fit of hysterical giggles.

The sight makes you chuckle, but the feeling could bring Luca to happy tears. He’s been gone for so long, he’s afraid he’d forget how it feels to hold his son in his arms again. Or worse, that his son would find his presence alien.

But he’s here now. With you and the son you share. Attacking Alfie in tickles and noisy kisses, and letting the boy climb him like monkey bars. And it calms his anxious heart a bit as he reminds himself, everything’s fine.

And as things fall back into place, thunder crashes outside, as if sobering all of you back into reality. Alfie shirks into himself, climbing off of his father’s back. You want to reach out for him so badly, but at the same time, not wanting to interrupt his bonding time with his dad.

“It’s okay, bub. It’s just thunderclap,” Luca soothes emphatically over the sudden silence, bringing Alfie back down to his feet. He smooths his son’s hair gently, comfortingly. “I got you, I got you…”

“Do animals even come out in the rain?” Alfie is back to his withdrawn self, mumbling his words and avoiding Luca’s gaze.

“Some animals actually love playing in the rain,” you chime in helpfully.

Luca keeps his tone cheerful and bright. “Yeah, and you can wear your raincoat and your wellies and I’ll even let you jump in puddles—”

“I don’t wanna do that! I wanna stay home!” He whines, voice raising a little.

“It’s your dad’s time—”

“No!”

“Alfie.” Your tone is firmer now, as he struggles out of his father’s arms and runs to his favorite corner of the couch in the living room, holding his stuffed bunny tight.

But Alfie’s got a point. This is not the kind of rain where you can take a leisurely stroll in. No, this is the kind where you stay huddled inside and hope it doesn’t flood the streets. Luca takes a thoughtful look at Alfie who is sulking and shrinking from the sound of thunder, at the window completely obscured from rain, and then at you… offering an apologetic smile.

So much for quality time with his son.

Luca’s heart sinks a little. He sighs in defeat. “Maybe we should just wait it out…”

“Are you sure? I mean, you flew 9 hours to see him—“

“And I don’t want him to be pissed at me the whole time we’re hanging out,” he reasons. “Besides, I don’t think any Uber would take our order at this time.”

It makes sense, you think. As much as you want this awkward little broken family dance to end, you know that staying in and waiting it out is the best option. Alfie would feel much more comfortable at home than in whatever hotel Luca is staying in. And maybe it’s your protective side talking, but if he ever gets fussy, you’d prefer to be around to deal with it.

“Alright, fine.”

“Yeah? Is that okay with you?”

You shrug. The truth is a little more complicated, but ultimately you settle with a simple, “yes.”

Alfie takes a quick glance at you and Luca emerging from the hallway (you have your mother’s side eye, Luca always said), before returning to fiddling his stuffed bunny’s ears (your father’s neutral look of disapproval, you would say). Like clockwork, Luca takes the seat next to Alfie, while you take the puffy stool in front of him.

“That wasn’t very nice of you to raise your voice at me and your dad like that. I get that you’re nervous about the weather—a bit startled, too— but still. We don’t raise our voices in this household.”

Alfie looks at you and Luca. “I’m sorry.”

Luca nods in acknowledgement. “I’m sorry for being late, buddy.” He gingerly reaches out to touch the boy’s hand. “You’re right, though. It might be best to stay in for a bit.” He motions at the rain hammering down on the window outside.

“I told you. I wanna stay at home.”

“I know. And we are for now. We can…” Luca scans around for something to do. His eyes fall on the coloring book and the open box of color pencils next to it. Bingo! “We can… color some drawings in that book?”

He pouts, not entirely sold on the idea but not outright refusing it either.

“Or, hey, I got some new drawings on me. You can color them, too.” Luca takes off his hoodie and shows off the tattoos on his arms.

God, you forgot about the plethora of trashy tattoos adorning his skin. Even worse, you forgot how it highlights the defined curves of his biceps. Focus, for fuck’s sake! You avert your gaze towards the flower portrait on the wall.

Alfie perks up a little. “This is my old drawing.” His tiny finger pokes at his forearm, on a tattoo of a stick figure climbing up the stairs. “You still have it?”

“Of course. It’s there forever. I’ll always have it.” Luca finds himself choking up at that simple admission. A little token of childhood of his ever-growing love. “Go on, get your crayons.”

Alfie looks at you as if seeking permission, and it makes you want to laugh that he shares the same animated eyebrows as his father.

“Go ahead, bub,” you usher him off lightly, and as soon as he’s out of sight, nods at your ex. “Good save.”

Luca half-smiles. “Thanks. You should chill out. Read a book, take a nap or something. I got him.”

“What, are you trying to kick me out?”

“No, I just—”

Your smile breaks out. “I’m kidding! Go hang out with Alf. I got a Zoom meeting in a few minutes anyway.”

He sighs in relief, chuckling lightly. “You almost got me there…”

You briefly pat his shoulder and for an even briefer moment, his hand is atop yours. The big ‘A’ tattoo on the back of his hand—your son’s initial in a bold Gothic letter— serves as a reminder of what’s past; a whirlwind romance, the wild days of being a family of a merry band of misfits…

Misfits. That’s the biggest takeaway here, you suppose. Your pieces don’t quite fit right. Not without little Alfie gluing you together.

With a final squeeze on Luca’s shoulder, you make your way to your bedroom, making space for Luca’s puzzle pieces to fit with Alfie’s because they don’t fit yours anymore.

***

05:04 PM

By the time your Zoom meeting ends, the pelting rain outside is louder and the chatter inside is nearly inaudible. It feels nice for about ten seconds… until you remember that you have a six-year-old at home and long bouts of silence can be quite… well, suspicious. You pad out into the hallway to check on him.

“Let’s see. You wanna do the sunflower next? What do you think, my love?”

Oh right. For a moment, you forgot that the thirty-year-old other parent is here with him.

Luca has his t-shirt sleeves hiked all the way up, biceps in full display as Alfie colors in a tattoo on the back part of his upper arm. The boy’s tongue sticks out and his eyebrows furrow in focus. It seems like a delicate operation between them, so you linger out of sight for just a while longer.

“Why do you like sunflowers, Dad?”

The two of you have always supported his inquisitive mind, and he missed these kinds of questions most of all. Even if the answers can be a little complicated. “Because of your mum, actually.”

“You like it because Mommy likes it?” Alfie’s little nose crinkles.

Luca chuckles in amusement, sensing the judgment in his son’s tone. Damn you guys for teaching Alfie not to get carried away by trends. “Well… when your mum and I first met, it was winter in Chicago and it’s pretty bleak and gloomy and freezing. But, your mum had a little sunflower by the window—just like that one.” He glances at the little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “She said it’s a reminder to let the sun shine in. I thought it was adorable. We started doing that everywhere we lived and… I don’t know, it reminds me of home.”

“Do you have a sunflower by your window, Dad?”

His heart catches as he realizes the answer. “No, I don’t…”

“Why? You don’t miss home?”

There’s a sharp pang of hurt in hearing that innocent query. The apartment in Copenhagen, as nice as it is, has never been much of a home for Luca. He would get up before the sun is up and return from work late at night—lather, rinse and repeat. On his days off, he would either go on a morning run and spend much of his time outside, or sleep til noon and live on instant ramen and takeout. There’s no time for a sunflower by the window. No room. He made sure of that.

He doesn’t deserve one after leaving his wife and son for fucking Noma.

Luca swallows back the lump in his throat, although the slight waver in his voice gives him away. “I got my sunflower right here, bub. My little piece of home.” He taps on his arm softly as his son finishes up.

Alfie hums, pleased with how the tattoo looks, now filled in with yellow and black and brown crayons. “I think this is my favorite one.”

“Yeah? Not the tabasco?” Luca grins, looking down at his forearm—specifically at the mostly accurate red and green of the hot sauce bottle.

“No…” Alfie taps his chin with his finger thoughtfully. “This one is prettier.”

Luca maneuvers around to look at the sunflower tattoo a little better. “You’re right, it is much prettier. Maybe I should get the colors in permanently, huh?”

The boy’s face lights up. “Can you?”

“Yeah. I think I will. Nice job, my little tattoo artist.” Luca pulls him into a bear hug and kisses the top of Alfie’s head.

You can’t help but chuckle, glad to see them bonding again, lost in your thoughts for a moment.

“Mommy! Dad says I can be a tattoo artist!” Alfie snaps you out of your reverie.

“Is that right?” Your eyebrows shoot up, struggling to maintain a neutral expression while staring at Luca like with all due respect, what the fuck?

He raises his hands in surrender. “I just said he’s my little tattoo artist, that’s all.”

“I colored in all of Dad’s tattoos! Look!” Alfie tugs at his dad’s arm, beaming as he shows off his work.

You step forward, studying the results of the tattoo makeover. Every single tattoo is colored in; some accurately, like the sunflower and tabasco, while others (like the purple fish and chips and blue scotch bonnet)… not so much. You don’t know which one’s more amusing; your son’s artistic style, or your ex’s bashful look as he models the art works on his arms.

“Looks great, bub. Well done!” You ruffle Alfie’s hair, enjoying his improved mood.

“Can I watch Bluey now?”

You purse your lips comically. “I don’t know, bub. Why don’t you look at your checklist on the fridge and see if you can?”

Alfie bounds past you, towards the fridge, and reads the checklist out loud to himself. “Have you… brushed your teeth? Yes. Brushed your hair? Yes…” He flattens his wavy locks with the palm of his hand, continues reading with a lower murmur. “Mommy, I did everything except tidy up my room and play outside for 30 minutes!”

“Okay. Obviously we can’t play outside, so… why don’t you just go clean your room and I’ll let you watch Bluey for a bit?”

Alfie gamely nods and goes into his bedroom, his bunny socks muting his footsteps against the hardwood floor.

Meanwhile, it takes you an extra beat to realize how close you’re standing with Luca without your child between you. He rolls down the sleeves of his black t-shirt sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Your meeting went okay?”

“It’s alright.” You look at literally anything but the man in front of you, ultimately stopping at your potted sunflower by the windowsill. “That storm out there, on the other hand…”

“Yeah…”

You take an inconspicuous look at the hallway, making sure your son is out of earshot. “Weather reports say it might last a few more hours.”

Luca huffs, trying not to stress out about the possibility of street floods. Of all the things he missed, New York thunderstorms are not one of them. Still, this shitty weather has granted him some time with his son, at his former home… with his former spouse. And God, does he miss this more than he dreads the weather…

“Want me to make you guys dinner?” He offers earnestly.

You pull back, returning to your normal volume. “Oh. No, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. Really. Might as well, right?”

You hear heavy footsteps from the bedroom and Alfie hollers from the hallway. “I’m all done!”

“Don’t forget your crayons!”

Alfie promptly makes a beeline towards his leftover mess. “Heard, Mommy.” He hurriedly puts his crayons back in the box and rushes into his room to put it away. Returning mere moments later with a newfound spring in his steps. “I’m done for real! Now can I please watch Bluey now?”

“I can cook while he gets his screen time.”

The two boys look at you with their best puppy eyes, and it’s the most disarming thing you’ve seen in a while—and the resemblance between them only makes things worse. You playfully roll your eyes in relent. “Alright, alright. Go ahead. Watch your TV and make your dinner.”

There’s a quiet little yesss from Alfie as Luca low-fives him before they scatter, one to the living room and the other to the kitchen. For a moment, you feel like you were transported back in time. For the first time in over two years, you’re caught between cartoon sounds from the TV and the kitchen alive again. All was well in the household.

“Is he still a picky eater?” Luca mouths the last two words inaudibly.

You raise your eyebrows in confirmation. “All he wants to eat is chicken nuggies.”

“I can do chicken nuggies,” he shrugs easily, rummaging through the freezer and takes out a pack of chicken breasts. “Or some version of that.”

Upon overhearing the key word, Alfie’s head all but whips toward Luca. “We’re having chicken nuggies for dinner?”

“Er, kind of.”

“Can I help?” He perks up from the back of the couch, excitement bubbling over.

Luca smiles apologetically. “Maybe later, my love. Daddy’s gonna be using a big knife…” he says as he checks the blade closely, swiping it with his thumb. “…which is dull, by the way. When was the last time you sharpened this?”

“I… have no idea.” You frown. You don’t even remember sharpening any knives… ever. Meanwhile, Luca simply rummages through the kitchen drawer, which makes you ask, “What are you doing?”

“I’m sharpening it,” he states matter-of-factly, already setting up a makeshift sharpening station which… what?

“Didn’t even know we had that,” you murmur plainly as you watch him work. Taking out a block of whetstone from the drawer (where did that even come from?) and running it under the sink. Laying out a kitchen rag and the stone on top of it.

He chuckles a little, scraping the blade against the stone at an angle, firmly but carefully. “Can’t leave you good Santoku knives without the proper sharpening tools, right?”

“You never taught me how to do it, though.”

“Yes, I have.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“What are you talking about? Back in Chicago, I—”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that was one time forever ago! And you never let me sharpen the knives. You literally always do it.”

He pauses, grinning bashfully. “Fair…”

For the umpteenth time that day, Luca’s heart catches—this time from hearing you laugh. Your warm voice rings so pleasantly in his ears, and the way your face lights up… he almost forgets there’s a storm outside, because he’s got a lovely summer day right here in front of him.

And honestly, what is beautiful sunny Copenhagen compared to this warmth of the two people he loves the most?

“Alright, alright. You want a refresher? Come here.”

You gingerly take the place next to him, arms crossed so as to not invade his space. Neither of you say anything when your shoulders brush against each other. It’s brief, painstakingly so, but eerily familiar. You wouldn’t admit that you want to stay pressed against him a little longer, but… you do.

“Okay, so. You see this bit right here?” His finger runs up the line where the blade flattens into the edge. “Rest the knife on the stone on this angle, start from the heel—near the handle— and just… bring it in,” he demonstrates the inward sliding motion—short and precise and repetitive, “and work your way up to the tip.”

You silently watch him work for a moment, handling the knife. Firm and steady, but not harsh. On the contrary, it’s almost… delicate. You’ve seen many chefs work in your lifetime, but no one is as composed or stoic (or handsome, but that is beside the point) as Luca. It’s quite fascinating.

“And you do this on both sides, right?” You vaguely recall.

“Good memory.” He nods appreciatively. “Some people like to do each side one at a time, back and forth, but I like to do one side, get that burr forming…”

“What’s a burr, sir?”

Luca chuckles at your little Hamilton reference. “So when you work on this side, you’ll feel a nice little rough bit forming on the other side like this.” He slides his thumb from the knife’s spine to the edge and carefully guides your hand through the motion. “Feel that?“

Yes. That should be an easy enough answer, because yes, you do feel the rough edge of the excess metal on the blade. But it’s a bit hard to focus on that when you’re more fixated on the rough calluses of his fingertips instead…

In theory, playing a knife with your almost ex-husband is as bad as a bad idea can get. In practice, though… Having your hand in his again, feeling him so close to you, smelling his perfume…

“That’s the burr. Once you get it on one side, you can switch over to the other side and balance it out.” His voice is lower now. Softer. “And you just… do it over and over again until you’ve worked off the burr and have a smooth and sharp blade.”

Luca switches the knife to your other hand and stands behind you, hoping to God you can’t feel his pounding heart as his chest presses against your back. Gently guiding you through the sharpening motion—the firm, steady, angled scraping of the blade towards you. You swear to God, every pull brings him just a tad closer.

“So you basically have to break the knife a little to fix it?”

“That’s basically it, yeah.”

The storm feels miles away. His hands are still curled against yours. His chest flush against your back. His body heat emanates from within him and shrouds you like your favorite cardigan.

“Listen, I—”

“Thanks… for the refresher.” And with that, you put the knife down on the kitchen rag and pull away.

It takes him an extra second to snap out of it and step back to make way for you as you retreat back into your bedroom. “Yeah, yeah. No problem.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck your fucking life to hell.

***

if you've reached the end of this page, thank you so much for reading! do tell me what you think, reblog, send me asks, thoughts, ANYTHING. i would LOVE to hear your opinion!!!

#will poulter #chef luca #luca the bear #the bear fx #chef luca x reader #luca x reader #chef luca x ex-wife!reader #chef luca fic #chef luca smut #will poulter fic #will poulter fluff #will poulter angst #will poulter smut #ava writes

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matthewrhys · 11 months

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BARK BARK BARK

#the bear #the bear fx #the Bear spoilers #**#jeremy allen white #will poulter #they need me just trust me

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dropitpunk · 10 months

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luca and carmen berzatto both being into you

luca x fem reader x carmen berzatto

cw: threesome (they tag team you), dubcon if you squint, sub!reader, degradation, creampie, dirty talk, vaginal sex, anal sex and rimming, oral, manhandling, rough sex, crying during the act.

sequel to this. i recommend you to read it first!

a finger was now finding the way under your shirt, slow and teasing.

"we will have to wait until someone finds us." carmen leaned in and whispered playfully in your ear.

"what do you mean? do you... do you not have your phone with you?" you asked meekly, feeling luca's hands creeping under your shirt and caressing your waist. carmen smiled at you, clear amusement covered his whole face.

"why would i have it? we were just cleaning, pretty thing." carmen said in a condescending way. deep down you knew it wasn't a good reason, but you were getting confused with how strong his perfume was up close, a mix of cigarettes, sweat and just pure man.

"but... what are we gonna do?" you were suddenly feeling shy under the attention from the two men. luca stopped his hands just under your breasts, looking at carmen before answering into your neck.

"i have a few ideas, baby." luca kissed the back of your neck softly, barely there. your body shivered and you gulped, looking clueless at carmen who just brought a hand to your cheeks. "and i'm sure i'm not the only one with them."

"d'you wanna stay here with us?" carmen kissed your forehead gently as luca peppered your neck with wet kisses, breathing heavily in your ear. you didn't consider there could be a choice until now, and your mind couldn't process an answer with how hot you were feeling.

"hmm?" luca pressed, rubbing his growing erection into your ass and making you moan against carmen's hand. you nodded quickly and eager, lust clouding any possible judgement.

carmen's lips brushed against yours while luca kept humping you through your clothes, hands finding your breasts and holding you tight to his body.

"i guess you do." carmen kissed you with roughness and lack of care, his lips chapped but soft against yours. his tongue explored your mouth messily, a visible display of dominance when combined with the strong hand holding your face in place by your neck. the other was caressing your hair, grabbing it with force enough to make you whine in little pain.

luca's hands went under your bra, teasing your nipples with the tip of his fingers while carmen kissed you, letting one of his hands go to your ass and squeeze, slapping the back of your thighs with a smirk against your mouth. you moaned, trying to make sense of the situation, overwhelmed with sensations.

they were everywhere, swallowing you and doing whatever they wanted.

your pussy was so wet you were sure they could feel it over your clothes, throbbing against carmen's clothed cock that stimulated you just right when he bucked his hips.

"i can't believe you're this horny from being groped by two men in this fucking closet." luca laughed against your skin, he sounded so mean to your ears your pussy clenched around nothing, whining against carmen's lips.

a string of saliva connected you and carmen when he pulled away, he smiled at how shiny your eyes looked and how swollen your lips were. he pecked your lips and kissed your cheeks, whispering to you, "probably would've liked more men in here, fucking slut."

"no, carmy." you whined and you couldn't recognize your own voice, so high pitched and needy. luca scoffed, pinching your nipples as if he was punishing you.

"you answer him but not me?" luca said annoyed and unclasped your bra, carmen helped him out and took off your shirt quickly.

you were exposed, and before you could think about covering your breasts with your hands you were being turned around, now facing luca and his furrowed eyebrows.

luca didn't get angry at you often, always so sweet and gentle with you, but you couldn't be more turned on from how possessive he looked. his gaze was burning your skin.

"thanks, man, this is all for me now." carmen winked at luca and he rolled his eyes, mouth finding your sensitive nipples and twirling his tongue around one nub, the other being roughly handled by his hands. his fingers could cover your whole breasts by how big they were.

carmen's fingers went and came from caressing your back and your waist, back to massaging your shoulders and neck. he continued for a few seconds before tugging at your pants, playing with the buttons before kissing the top of your head.

"i just have to know how wet you are first. i bet you are dripping, you sound so fucking horny, baby." you moaned in response and he slid a hand under your pants, rubbing you over your panties. your hips bucked against his fingers, trying to get any contact possible.

your panties were ruined, barely any fabric left to cover your pussy from his touch. carmen smirked and pressed his thumb against your clit, your ass rubbing against his groin. luca grazed his teeth over your nipples just to bring your attention back to him, kissing down your belly and stopping just before carmen's hands were.

"you wanna see?" you let a confused sound and then realized carmen was not talking to you when luca nodded against your chest. you felt two fingers going under your panties and sliding against your slit, collecting the wetness there and leaving just as you were starting to hump his hand.

"look at this, fucking soaked. just from a little kissing and touching." carmen held his fingers up to luca and you felt your face burn, an embarrassed noise letting your throat and making luca chuckle.

"i don't even think she can handle us both, being this weak." luca said and carmen brought his own fingers to his mouth, tasting you and humming with delight. "we gon' have to keep her still so she can take it."

luca took your pants and underwear off in one go, holding your arms so you could step off them without falling into carmen. you were completely exposed to their predatory eyes, feeling conscious of how luca and carmen were still completely clothed.

you felt dirty, it felt good.

"real gorgeous, baby," carmen said against your skin as he got down on his knees, hands grabbing your waist. you couldn't see, but the look in his eyes was full of devotion, ready to give it all to you. he kissed your ass cheeks, resting his forehead against you and breathing heavily.

"you smell so good," luca whispered and kissed your belly button, groaning when he caught sight of your pussy, glistening with wetness and all puffy from carmen's touch. he kissed your knees and two strong hands separated your legs as he bit and licked your inner thighs.

carmen held your ass cheeks apart, biting the skin softly and slowly bringing his tongue to your hole. you jumped, the feeling foreign but welcomed.

"never had your ass played with before? gon' have to prep you before i fuck you here, baby." carmen smiled teasingly and luca chuckled, amused at your gasps and sighs and how your body tensed at carmen's words.

luca lapped all the wetness from your inner thighs, giving your pussy a little kiss before licking your slit, groaning into your cunt with hunger.

they were synchronized when they found your most sensitive spots, sucking and licking you like two starved men in a competition. your legs turned into jelly and you were sure you would have fallen if their grip wasn't so tight.

carmen bent you a bit more so he could stuff his tongue into you as he grabbed your ass, saliva dripping from his chin and making a mess in your thighs.

your hands were holding onto luca's hair for dear life as he sucked your clit, the slurping sounds loud and embarrassing to your ears but quickly getting overhead by your moans and curse words.

"pussy so good, carmen, you need to have it later," luca took a breath to glance at carmen, half of his face covered in your juices. "wet and so fucking sloppy just how i like it."

"her ass is so tight, think you gon' have to keep her mouth shut or she gon' scream this whole place down when i'm fucking it. isn't it right, baby?" carmen said like you were too dumb to understand, and he seemed right when you just whined in agreement, tongue too heavy in your mouth and jaw slack.

luca suddenly stuffed two fingers into you, sliding them in just easy from how soaked you were. carmen took a hint to do the same, sucking one finger and entering your ass, pumping it slowly and carefully to not make it hurt so much.

luca reached up and grabbed your breasts for support, tongue working along with his fingers to make you a moaning mess. you clenched around carmen's finger, your hand slamming the wall beside you to equilibrate.

"she's gonna be too busy trying to take my cock into her pussy to care about you, carmys." that seemed to irritate carmen, as he brought another finger to your ass much more harsh, the tight skin around it burning and stretching to accommodate the thickness of his digits.

luca moved quicker, fingers leaving and entering your cunt in a fast pace, the tips were reaching your sweet spot in a way only a experienced man could. you could swear you were seeing stars, eyes pitch black and head dizzy. your head was spinning and your stomach was so tight you didn't know if you were gonna cum or faint. or all at the same time.

"sweetheart is gonna cum." carmen cooed at you and spit into your asshole, finding the pace that brought you the most pleasure.

his tongue joined his fingers and you were gone, coming hard around luca's fingers and on his mouth. you felt like you were gonna pass out, seeing black for a few seconds and only feeling your high.

luca drank up all your wetness with thirst, making you try to get away from his mouth, overstimulated. carmen held you in place, his tongue even far into you as you kept rolling your hips in hope of stop being touched.

you cried out, "too much."

they pretended to not hear and luca only stopped when he looked up and saw tears running down your face, stopping licking your pussy and bringing two hands to your face.

"baby, why are you crying already? you forgot you still have to take our cocks? so cute." luca cooed at you and pinched your checks, pecking your mouth a couple times.

carmen stood up before giving your ass a gentle slap, kissing the back of your head.

carmen held your chin to his face now, kissing your lips and looking at luca before smiling and saying, "i don't think she understood you. she's got a dumb look in her eyes."

"such a cute fucktoy. the cutest really," luca said against your neck, unbuckling his belt with one hand, tatted arm holding your waist firmly. luca rubbed his cock against you still with his boxers on, teasing you a little.

on the other hand, carmen put his pants down quickly, just enough for his dick to spring free, hitting your ass in the process. he kissed behind your ear, smiling at your sobbing, more tears running down your face.

"just fuck me, please, please..." you didn't know at who you were directing your pleads. it could be to any of them, and it was to both at the same time.

"you gon' learn to appreciate me more. you think carmen is gonna go easy on your virgin little hole? i'm just gonna destroy you a little, pretty. it's not even gonna hurt." luca smiled down at you and you shivered, holding onto his arms and throwing your head back. his blond hair was messy, and his skin was sweating, cheeks slightly flushed with the heat.

you could feel carmen's curls tickling your skin as he laughed, rubbing his cock against your entrance. the hole clenched around nothing, copious amounts of saliva coating his tip when he slowly entered you, just the tip resting in you.

you gasped, feeling it burn. carmen was thick, more than any partner you've ever been with, and feeling him a way you've never felt anyone before was overwhelming.

your glassed eyes looked for luca for support when carmen let more spit coat his dick and thrusted into you with full force, your whole body burning with the sensation. it was a pleasurable pain, just enough to make you wince but throw your ass back to him. luca just smirked, watching you struggling to take it all.

you were gasping for air, but luca didn't let you look back to carmen as he took your mouth in his, covering your noises with his tongue.

"i told you you'd have to shut her up." carmen chuckled and caressed your waist, being merciful as he let you accommodate to his size. his white shirt was almost see through with how much you were sweating, wrinkled from your touch.

you were too distracted to see luca freeing his painfully hard cock from his boxers, but you surely felt his full length sliding into your pussy in one movement. he gasped, he didn't really mean to but you were just so wet his hips lost control. you moaned loud against his mouth.

"i'm too full..." your eyes rolled back and you could feel your orgasm approaching just from feeling them inside you. you were aching, ass and pussy stuffed so full you couldn't even move.

"hold on tight, baby." carmen kissed your hair and started moving with caution, stretching you up in a way you didn't thought it was possible. while carmen was thicker, luca was longer, reaching a deep spot inside of you.

carmen was groaning in your ear every time he moved, the tightness around his dick too much to take. he held his shirt up and watched it disappear into your ass inch by inch, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"i can feel him inside you too. i guess it's the first time we are getting along." luca laughed and whispered against your face. he started to thrust into you, holding your leg up so he could find your g-spot quicker. the angle made carmen come closer to you, sturdy chest pressed against your back.

they found a rhythm that seemed to work for all three, using you for their pleasure, bending you and moving your limbs as they liked. strong bodies held you in place, their cocks going in and out of you at a rough pace.

luca's heavy balls slapped against your pussy and he moaned with his face in your neck, kissing you and making you move by his strong hands in your waist.

carmen embraced your upper body and whined while rubbing his curls in your shoulder, back hugging you in a rather sweet act. much different from how rough he was fucking your ass, from how hoarse his voice was from spilling obscenities to you over and over.

"gonna come in your ass, baby." carmen struggled to say as his balls were tightening and you clenched around them, saliva pooling in your mouth and running down your chin.

your face was covered in tears, eyes all red and swollen from how much you were crying. it was too good, too much all at once. you could barely take it.

"you gonna have to suck my cock clean from how much cum i'm gonna give you." luca groaned, almost delirious with your pussy squeezing him so well.

your belly clenched and you couldn't breathe, reaching the strongest orgasm you've ever had around their cocks. you couldn't see or hear anything for a moment, just how good you were feeling. your head was resting against carmen's unconsciously and your hand was holding luca's, trying to find support.

they kissed you through it wherever they could reach, coming at the same time. your ass and pussy were full of cum, mostly dripping from your inner thighs and ass to the floor, making a mess around you.

you were all warm, slowly coming back from your high. luca looked attentive at you, although breathless and visibly shaken. carmen rested his forehead against your shoulder, eyes closed and arms still around you, hold even more intense now.

"you okay?" carmen was the first one to talk after minutes of recovering, voice sweet and with sincere concern.

"yeah, i'm good." you said, body still spasming. a gentle kiss was placed on your lips from luca, and two on your cheeks.

"then we can switch places." carmen smiled wickedly and winked at luca, who smirked and nodded.

they were finally getting to know each other.

a/n: thank you for the response on the first part, it encouraged me lots. i would really appreciate it if you shared your thoughts on this one!

#the bear #luca the bear #luca x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto x you #will poulter x reader #will poulter #jeremy allen white

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cinemagal · 10 months

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THE BEAR Season 2

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pantherxrogers · 11 months

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You’re #1 to Me - Luca x Reader One-Shot (18+ ONLY)

Content warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, explicit language, and sexual content

Summary: The reader and Luca are in an established relationship. Luca comes home after finding out he isn’t the actually best chef (based on the conversation in episode 4 w/ Marcus). The reader is determined to lend him a HAND 🤗

A/N: Did I just write smut about a character with less than 10 minutes of screentime?! MAYBE YES!! 😛 I’ve been extremely down bad for Will Poulter recently 😭 also,,, @wakandamama ‘s Sydney x Carmy fics are inspiring me to write more! Here’s a one-shot for my favorite baker! <3

“Babe, he’s like....really good,” Luca murmurs into the quiet air of your shared apartment.

“Yeah, but so are you.” Your confidence in him is slowly soothing the ache in his chest.

“It’s just…he’s like..” He can feel the words slipping from his brain, the steady feeling of your fingers against his scalp lulling him into a relaxed state.

The pair of you are tangled together on the couch, you’re halfway on his lap while he rests his head against the back cushion. The smooth column of his necks calls out to you, tempting and waiting. His eyelids flutter involuntarily, when he feels the soft kiss you place there.

“He’s like…what?” You breath against his neck, pulling him away from the noise in his head. The silence stretches between the two of you, Luca’s uncertainty stirring up inside of him.

“Because, I say,” you whisper into his ear, “you’re still number one to me.”

Your arm drapes loosely around his shoulder now, nestling further into his side. His strong arm acts as a cradle, pulling you in, before he meets your eyes.

The sadness in his eyes has given way to something else, and it causes a warm tingle to flood your body. The tension has shifted now, and it’s much more welcome this time.

“Come here,” his voice is firm, but gentle when he turns to give you his full attention. Leaning in, his lips are tentative against your own. This kiss is soft and light, but it still makes your tummy flutter. The insecurity that he’s been feeling at work weighs him down. Luckily, you know what he needs in this moment.

The intensity of your lips against his own brings him back into the moment. While he might not feel like the best chef in the world, he’ll be damned if he can’t help you feel as good as possible.

Deepening the kiss, he eases his hands onto your hips, bringing you to his lap in one fluid motion. The sudden change of pace leaves you breathless, giggling into the kiss when your lips meet again.

He breaks the kiss, only to softly nip at your neck, teasing you until he gets to the spot that makes you let out a soft moan.

Your hips softly rock against his own, the thin pajamas pants making it much easier for you to feel the growing tent in his pants. Wandering hands knead against the plush of your ass, his hips lazily grinding upwards.

When you bury your face in his neck, you’re met with the lingering smell of sugar that clings to him. The scent overwhelms you, driving your need to be even closer. All you can focus on is making him forget about his stress.

Your hands trail down, slowly lifting his shirt over his head, revealing the tanned skin beneath it. You can’t help but trail your hands over the defined muscle, his eyes following your motion.

“Luca,” your soft voice grabs his attention. He’s in a trance, the soft lighting of your shared apartment makes your beauty feel unbearable. It’s only when you softly smirk at him that he’s prompted to respond.

“Yes, love?” The raspiness of his voice makes you tug on your lip, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by your lover. His hands have slipped into your bottoms, toying with the string of your thong.

“I want to make you feel good, is that okay?” His answering groan makes your heart race, “You know you don’t have to ask me that,” he grunts, tugging you back in for a kiss.

His lips are urgent against your own, the smooth glide of his tongue causing a stir in your belly. You blindly reach down to loosen his belt buckle. The kiss breaks, only for a moment, so you can look down to lower the band of his sweats.

His lips frantically reconnect with yours, eager to be close to you. Each swipe of your tongue against his own is making him harder, the thin boxers doing little to conceal him. He jumps a little when you reach your hand down to stroke him through the fabric.

“Hmm, fuck,” he sighs, the gentle touch of your hand causes his hips to stutter. You ease off of his lap, sitting on your knees next to him, needing more space for what you’re about to do.

In a swift motion, you’re rolling down his boxers, causing him to hiss as the cool air meets his hard cock. He glances over as you reach up to wet the palm of your hand, the lewd act making him twitch.

When your soft hand wraps around his base, Luca swears he might pass out. You stroke him from the base to the tip, causing precum to leak onto your hand. He lets out a loud moan when when find a steady rhythm. He’s thick and warm in your hand, turning you on even more.

“Does that feel good baby, hmm?” You tease him, his hips bucking up to chase the relief.

“Yes, fuck, f-feels good,” he moans out, his hand reaching around to grip your lower back, grounding himself. You’re leaning into him, pressing kisses against his neck, then softly sucking on the skin. Your hand slows against him, toying with his tip.

“I can tell, baby, you’re making a mess all over my hand,” you breathe out, loving the way his cock twitches as you tease him.

“C-can’t help it, you feel so good,” he whines out, trying to keep his hips still. Your other hand comes up to softly tug at his balls, making him lose his composure.

He lets out a curse as he throws his head against the back of the couch, his hips bucking against your hand.

“It’s okay, baby, you can come for me,” the warmth in your voice engulfs him, causing him to release all over your hand.

His chest slows as he comes down from his high, muscles slowly relaxing further into the couch. You retract your hand, reaching for his shirt to clean him off before gently tucking him back into his boxers.

The soft presses of your lips against his cheeks bring him back down to Earth, his eyes finding yours without fail.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Both of you feel shy, the redness in his cheeks makes your heart swell.

His blonde hair is messy now, adding to the boyish look on his face. His eyelids droop now, the knowledge that you’ve fully relaxed him causing a genuine smile to spread across your face.

The rest of the night is spent in both of your favorite ways, tangled together, listening to the lull of the other’s heartbeat.

................................................................................................................................

Tagging my fellow The Bear enthusiasts 🥳 (let me know if you want to be added/removed):

@wakandama2 @blowmymbackout @kdoxkeic

#the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #the bear smut #will poulter imagine #will poulter x reader #will poulter fanfic #will poulter fanfiction #luca the bear #the bear #the bear fx #the bear x reader #will poulter smut #luca x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #will poulter #𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ⊹ ˚˖⋆｡ ra ra fics

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nolita-fairytale · 10 months

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Pastry Chef Luca of the Bear Masterlist

burn your life down: (pastry chef luca x fem!reader)

leaving your old life behind, you move to copenhagen to follow your dream of opening a restaurant. almost a year after opening, luca's quest for inspiration brings him right to your doorstep. it's a story about learning how to fall in love again, about second chances, finding inspiration, and that sometimes, change can be really, really good. (completed)

don't you worry there's still time (pastry chef luca oneshot, from the world of 'burn your life down')

headcanon: new year's ever & day with luca

burn your life down bonus content

meeting pastry chef luca headcanon (teaser for 'burn your life down')

pov: you're the main character of 'burn your life down' and this is your instagram grid (moodboard/social media pov)

pov: youre the head chef of kokuore - the restaurant in 'burn your life down'

a behind the scenes look at 'burn your life down'

the secondary characters - the kimuras & the mikkelson twins

instagram profiles for the secondary characters by @translatemunson

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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captainshischier · 11 months

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i’m afraid something awoke in me

#i haven’t watched this show but i might have to start it 🤭🤭#will poulter + tattoos?! sign me UP.#yes chef 🫡#will poulter #the bear #the bear fx

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wtfsteveharrington · 12 days

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something new | luca x reader

i was awoken from a dream last night

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 🌝 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

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Your body feels heavy as it’s pulled from a deep sleep.

There’s 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. “S’everything okay?”

Luca’s 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.

“All’s fine, my love. Didn’t mean to wake you so early.”

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 doesn’t wake you, opting to shimmy out of the bed but not this morning.

There’s lips on your neck now. “Was dreaming about you and had to make sure you were real.” His hand is sliding in between your thighs now, pulling them apart. Inches away from where you’re starting to crave him. You’re whining in the pillow now while arching your hips up towards his touch. He’s grinning against your skin and rocking himself towards your side. Luca’s hard and heavy against you. “Gonna go take care of this in the bathroom. Just needed a little touch of you before I go.”

You’re shaking your head now, trying to unpin your arm that’s trapped between the two of you so you can find the waistband of his sweats slung low on his waist. “No, no. Don’t go.” 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. There’s a rush of cold air as he pulls the blanket from your frame and tosses it to the empty side of the bed.

He’s grabbing a pillow next and tapping his fingers against your side, grinning as you take the hint and lift your hips for him. “Just lay there, Darling. Let me take care of you.” Luca makes sure you’re 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. You’re 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 doesn’t mind in the slightest.

His thumbs slide along the seam of your underwear that’s 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. Luca’s 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.

“Always so good for me, aren’t you?” You’re nodding against the pillow, turning your head to the side to press a kiss against the hands that are now on your shoulders. “Only yours, Luca.” He’s groaning above you and there’s warm, open mouth kisses being pressed along your spine now.

There’s 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. He’s crooking fingers in the waistband of your underwear and finally, finally pulling them down your thighs and leaving you exposed to him. They’re 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. “Are you passionate about these?”

You barely shake your head no, because again they’re 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. You’re 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 Luca’s 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. He’s delivering one more small smack to the roundest part of your ass before his fingers find their way between your thighs. Normally he’d 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 he’s going to be quick but he plans on taking his time with you again tonight.

There’s 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. You’re slackjaw against the pillow, letting out a stream of breathy whimpers you can’t control. Luca knows you. Knows every inch of you. So he’s 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. You’re wet, the scissoring and dragging motions Luca’s making causing a slick sound to come from between your thighs.

“Luca, please.” He grins down at your backside, enjoying the view of his fingers working deep inside of you. “Always so greedy, aren’t you?” You respond by rocking your hips back against his hand and clenching down against his fingers which causes him to chuckle. “Alright, alright.” 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.

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 you’ll 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 he’s turned you.

Not tonight. You’re wet, yes. But you know there’s 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 he’d stop the second you asked if needed.

The head of his cock sits heavy against your entrance and you feel yourself desperately clenching around nothing. He’s 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. “Be good, yeah? Let me get us off before I gotta go. Can’t have you wet all day waiting for me to come back home to take care of you.” Luca lines himself up with your hole, sliding just the tip of himself in which pulls a moan from both of you.

“Baby, please.” Pride swells in Luca’s chest as you start to beg. If he hadn’t 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 weren’t used to him yet.

There’s 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 couldn’t sink all the way down it. But his girth? That was unmatched. Thick, heavy, and all yours.

“Feel so amazing, Darling. Was dreaming about this pussy spreading around me.” Luca jerks another inch in without warning, a squelching sound coming from you as the movement causes some wetness to drip out. You can’t form a thought when he’s got you like this. Your body is still relaxed against the bed as Luca stretches you out.

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 heart’s content. Luca gives your hip a little squeeze as a warning he’s going to start moving, giving you a second to accept what’s to come before the first roll of his hips hits.

You’re a mess. Groggy still, already becoming cock drunk. It’s easy to do with him. “S’full, Luc. So, so full.” Even with his brows knitted in concentration as he tries not to instantly cum at the sight of your pussy stretched around him, he’s proud to get you this way.

But God does the sight of you already have him close.

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.

His pace quickens and you’re back to being reduced to a drooling mess under him. Moaning out an incoherent string of pleas, praise, and curses. You couldn’t repeat what’s coming from your mouth even if you tried. His heavy balls slap against your clit which each thrust and Luca’s 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.

“Such a perfect fuckin’ pussy. So wet for me, aren’t you? You’re gonna be sore all day now but you don’t care. Every step’s gonna remind you how good I fuck you.”

Your head is spinning.

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. He’s… 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.

One of his hands gripping your hip loses his grip and there’s 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.

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.

“Can you come for me, Darling? You can do that, can’t you? Wanna feel this pretty little pussy finish before I do.” You’re 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.

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.

You’re 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.

Luca’s quick to follow after watching you come undone around him.

He’s 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. He’s 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.

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 couldn’t leave you without anything left inside of you.

Luca drags you to the bathroom after he gives you a moment to collect yourself. Normally he’d take his time with aftercare but sadly he’s 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. He’s 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.

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. “You’re so pretty.”

Now after what just happened in the bedroom? You’d think nothing would phase him.

But Luca’s 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.

Luca gets you dried off and sends you back to bed with a pat on your ass. He’s 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 can’t 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.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

He leaves everything you need for your morning tea sitting on the counter before running out the door.

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