Appreciation Post For This Little Curl On Luigi’s Ear That Happens Sometimes

Working Hard or Hardly Working? — Luigi Mangione

Summary: You’re spending the afternoon in your college boyfriend Luigi’s dorm. He’s focused on homework, as always—but as his first girlfriend, you’ve learned when a little break might be worth it.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: EXPLICIT, foreplay/non-penetrative sex, oral (m! receiving), not fully proofread & revised, writer lost their fic virginity while composing this

A/N: Please note that this is my first time writing smut in any real detail, despite all my years of reading and writing. Any feedback or insight is deeply appreciated—it helps keep writers going! A special thank you to @fligniuz and @bambimangione for genuinely inspiring me lately with their incredible recent works and motivating me to finally sit down and write this. Study the greats, and become even greater!

“Luigi, just take a break already,” you sighed, leaning over his desk chair, your hands resting on the joint of his shoulders.

His eyes were locked on the laptop screen, the luminescence of his physics homework casting a soft light across his face, reflecting off the lenses of his thick-rimmed, square blue light glasses.

“Five more minutes, I swear,” he muttered under his breath, fingers still tapping rapidly at the keyboard, his thoughts racing in a whirlwind of formulas and laws as he focused intensely on whatever complex calculation he was trying to solve.

Rolling your eyes, your patience thinned with every excuse he threw your way—this, that, and the third. Of course, he just needed five more minutes, as promised, not by just any Taurus, but a May-born male Taurus like Luigi himself: undoubtedly loyal, tirelessly hardworking, but also annoyingly, impossibly stubborn—just like the Taurean bull.

“Five minutes? You said that twenty minutes ago. You’ve been at this for hours.”

Sliding one of your hands down his arm, your fingers brushing over his wrist, he finally paused, stopping in his tracks and pulling out of his thought process, his shoulders stiffening under your touch. When he turned his head to look at you, his face was flushed—that kind of flushed. The kind that told you he wasn’t just thinking about differential equations anymore, and maybe, despite having his watch right on his left wrist where he could see it in that exact moment whenever he needed to check time, he was losing his track of time for once.

And for once, though it nearly pained him to admit it, you were right.

“Okay,” he sighed, knowing better than to object any further, as you had made your point, almost shyly aware that you were right and he, in fact, was wrong. He closed the laptop with a soft click, then pushed his chair back and turned to face you fully, becoming yours for the time being. “You’re right. I need a break.”

The moment his lips met yours, the air in the room seemed to shift. His kiss was clumsy at first, hesitant, as if he was unsure whether he was doing it right—doing it right, in terms of kissing a girl. You didn’t mind; you never did. At times, it was endearing how hard he tried to please you, even when he wasn’t entirely sure how to express his affection for you, as your boyfriend, through romantic gestures. You intensified the kiss, gently lifting your hands to cradle his boyish face, the tips of your thumb and pointer fingers brushing along his cheekbones. He eagerly reciprocated, his hands locating the figure of your waist and drawing you closer.

Your bodies pressed together, and you could feel the warmth of him radiating through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, the steady thrum of his heartbeat syncing with your own. His hands wandered along your back, almost loveshy at first, fingertips ghosting over the fabric like he was memorizing the shape of you—before they grew bolder, more certain, as the kiss deepened into something far more than a long-awaited, overdue break from homework. You had been right all along: he definitely needed a break. As often as Luigi considered himself to be a remarkably bright and intelligent young man—now attending an Ivy League school as an undergraduate, pursuing a degree in computer science, ever the precocious child with a knack for all things science-y—he accepted that, not too long ago, he’d been a complete idiot for not stepping away from his desk sooner. Unlike many men, Luigi seemed to understand that women are often right and deserve your full attention. Somehow, you always caught his like a big fish on a line. And now, he couldn’t believe he had stayed so focused on the assignment with you right there in his room, stretched out on his dorm bed, looking as stunning as ever, and on top of that, as his girlfriend. The space separating you grew heavier, heavy with unspoken want, the kind that made every inch of your skin feel electric, galvanic, and exciting like a lightning bolt amidst the life cycle of a thunderstorm, ready to snap at any given moment.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to see him, to really see him. His glasses were fogged from your breath, cheeks tinged with the softest blush, and his lips were parted in stunned awe, kiss-bitten and eager. He looked adorable—unapologetically nerdy in the best way possible. Without thinking, you reached up, cupping his face in both hands, your thumbs stroking the apples of his cheeks. Your fingers curled behind his ears, grounding him, pulling him closer. His breath hitched as your touch anchored him in the moment. Then, without hesitation, you brought his face back to yours and kissed him again—this time with certainty, with affection, with the delight lying in the repose of knowing that he was yours, and you were his, and that you were the first girl to ever hold his heart like this.

“Hey,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the edge of his glasses before sliding them off the bridge of his nose and setting them on the desk. “You’re overthinking again. Relax. It’s just us.”

It was true. It was just the two of you, in that moment in his dorm, all alone, with nothing to worry about regarding his roommate returning for the rest of the day or, for that matter, the whole weekend.

But in spite of that, you were the first girl ever to have him wrapped around your finger, and therefore, the first girlfriend he ever dated in all his nineteen years of living.

He nodded, his hands still gripping your waist like he feared you would disappear like simple arthimetic flying into his head, without a trance, if he let go. You beamed, leaning in to kiss him again, your tongue toying with his, as his breath faltered, and a soft groan escaped him, the sound vibrating through your chest. The ardor between you strengthened, his body responding as if your kiss had awakened something profound within him. His hands firmly clasped your waist, as his initial nervousness transformed into an undeniable yearning—a fervor that kindled between you both, drawing you ever closer.

You withdrew slightly to take his hand, directing him to rise from his chair. With a gentle smile, you led him to his twin bed, your fingers interwoven as you sat beside him. Before either of you could utter another word, your lips met once more, the kiss rekindling with a heightened need as if the very act of each other's proximity had sparked a passion neither of you could ignore or control.

Luigi’s hands trembled as they slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingertips brushing against the soft skin of your waist. His breath was uneven, and his heart pounded so loudly that you could almost hear it. You smiled against his lips, your fingers tangling in his dark curls as you perfected your intimacy together of prolonging your kiss and caressing each other’s bodies. His inexperience, or its lack thereof with the opposite sex, was sweet as his innocence, and how he hesitated, unsure of how far to take things to the next base, only made him more irresistible. While he struggled to express his desires and needs clearly, it was evident that he yearned for something beyond what he had ever experienced, and he would go to any lengths for you.

“You can touch me, you know,” you hinted, pulling back just enough to see the flush spread across his cheeks. His brown eyes widened, and he gulped. “I’m yours, Luigi. All of me.”

You reached for the hem of your shirt and slipped it over your head, letting it fall to the floor without a second thought.

He ceased his actions, taking in the gravity of your words. Gradually, his hands traveled up, lightly gliding over your rib cage until they brushed against the underside of your breasts. The warmth emanated from his skin, and his fingers fidgeted with uncertainty. He glanced up at you, his lips parted, and you nodded encouragingly.

“Go on,” you pressed. “They’re yours to touch. Yours to feel.”

For a second, he faltered, shifting his gaze from your features to the curvaceous contour of your chest. With a breath that trembled, he enveloped your breasts in his large hands, his thumbs lightly tracing the fabric of your bra. With a delicate exhale, your body reacted to his tender touch, and you realized how his eyes reflected a deep longing to touch you. As he absorbed this new knowledge of appreciating the femininity of a woman and ventured into the unknown of pleasuring her, the way he gazed at you—like you were the most valuable treasure he had ever encountered—sent your heart into a frenzy.

“Can I…”

His voice faded, but you understood precisely what he meant.

“Yes,” you said immediately, your hands moving to the clasp of your bra. “You can.”

He followed closely, wholly captivated by your cleavage as you unhooked it, his breath catching when the fabric fell away, revealing your breasts to him for the first time. His jaw dropped, and his eyes widened in astonishment, feasting on the sight, likely matching the exact measurements of your bra size. Judging by appearances, it seemed your back must have ached at times from the rack you carried. His hands fidgeted beside him, seemingly unsure about making contact with the most generous pair of breasts he’d ever encountered, lost in the sauce of what to do next. Now, you weren’t naïve when it came to your personal assets—you’d caught Luigi sneaking glances at your chest more times than you could count, especially on days like today, when you intentionally wore a tight-fitting white t-shirt, knowing curiosity might just kill the cat.

Overjoyed by the moment, you smirked and reached out, guiding his hands back onto your chest where they belonged.

“They’re yours, Luigi,” you voiced it once more, your words dripping with allure, resonating with a yearning that paralleled his. “Put them in your mouth. I want you to suck on them.”

His pupils dilated, those big hands gripping your breasts firmly as he leaned in. His breath was warm upon your skin, and you could perceive the tension all in his physique, the manner in which he was restraining himself. With a moan, he latched onto one of your nipples, his tongue tasting the sensitive bud.

You gasped, your back arching as pleasure coursed through you. His mouth felt invitingly warm, and his tongue began with a gentle exploration, gaining more confidence as the moments unfolded. His hands kneaded your breasts, like they were manhandling raw dough, his fingers squeezing as he sucked, and you moaned, your fingers tightening in his hair.

“That’s it,” you panted, your voice quaking with desire. “Oh baby, just like that…”

Obeying immediately, his mouth closed once more, firmly this time around your nipple as he sucked harder, his tongue swirling in circles that sent sparks of pleasure through your body. His other hand moved to your other one, his thumb rolling over the nipple in time with the rhythm of his mouth. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, watching him suckling on your tit like a young needing it for nourishment, causing your mind to spiral.

“God, Luigi,” you moaned, your hips grinding against the mattress as his mouth worked absolute wonders, engulfing your nipple, areola, and most of your breast. “You’re so good at this. So good.”

He hesitated briefly, his lips shimmering with your essence, his eyes laden with desire. “I… I didn’t know it would feel like this,” he admitted. “I love them.”

You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You’re perfect,” ​​you cooed, your thumb tracing over his lower lip, separating them apart, turning him into a man of submission as he looked into the eyes of his woman. “Now, don’t stop. I want you to keep going.”

He needed no second prompting. His mouth claimed your other breast, his tongue lapping up your nipple in long, languid licks before he pulled it into his mouth, hands continuing to knead and squeeze your soft flesh. A louder moan escaped you, your legs instinctively parting as the growing pleasure surged within.

His movements became bolder, more assured, as though he were uncovering a new side of himself—a side that longed for your body, eager to worship every inch of you. His mouth was insistent, his tongue teasing, tasting, while his hands roamed freely, exploring, caressing, and claiming you as his own.

“Lu,” you breathed, straining with desire.

He groaned against your skin, his grip tightening around your breasts as he sucked harder, his tongue flicking over your nipples in a way that made you see stars. The tension coiled deep in your core, pleasure rising fast toward its peak, and you knew he felt it too, sensed every subtle shift in your body as it responded to him.

Luigi’s lips were still wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling in slow, deliberate circles, when you felt his body tense. His hands, which had been kneading your breasts with an almost desperate need, stilled for a moment. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his breathing had become uneven, shallow. His arousal was palpable, thick in the air between you, and it made your own body ache with want.

You reached up, tangling your fingers in his dark hair, tugging him back so you could look into his eyes. They were dark, almost black with desire, and his lips had swelled from the overuse of his lip muscles persistently suckling.

“Luigi,” you said. “Do you want to try something else?”

He blinked, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. “Something else?” he repeated. “What do you mean?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, and you traced a finger along his jaw, feeling the clean-shaven, supple olive skin there. “I mean,” you shrugged your shoulders. “do you want to try fucking them?”

​​His eyes practically bulged out of his skull, and you could see the exact moment the realization hit him. His gaze dropped to your breasts, still cradled in his hands, and his Adam’s apple hit against the front of his neck as he swallowed hard. “You mean… with my dick?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your smile growing wider. “Yes.”

For a spell, he looked at you as if the very sight of you had stolen the air from his lungs—his gaze a storm of awe, wonder, and something unspoken that stirred beneath the surface, wild and ancient, like a flame catching wind. Like any other geek, it was safe to say that the portal in his brain crashed and his mind short-circuited. Without warning, he practically ripped his boxers and pants off all at once, the fabric pooling around his ankles in a heap. His cock sprang free, hard and throbbing. You couldn’t help but admire it, your heart taking a sudden plunge into your stomach.

In Luigi’s case, you know what they always say: big nose, big hands, big feet, and a big co—

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of wetness between your legs as you looked up at him. “Hold on,” you assured. “Let me help you.”

You reached down, wrapping your hands around your breasts and squeezing them together, molding them into a tight, inviting channel of soft, warm flesh for him to thrust into. Leaning forward slightly, you gathered a thick string of spit on your tongue and let it fall from your lips, watching it drip onto your cleavage and trail down between your breasts, leaving a glistening, slippery path just for him. He desperately whimpered at the sight, his eyes locking onto the mess you’d made just for him. Your nipples brushed against each other, sending shivers of pleasure through your body, and you could feel the heat of his cock as he moved closer, his tip brushing against the soft skin of your cleavage.

“Like this,” you instructed. “Just slide it in between them. Slowly at first.”

Luigi nodded, his jaw clenched tight as he guided his cock toward your breasts. The moment the head of his dick touched your skin, he let out a low, throaty groan, his hips jerking forward like an autonomic response. You could feel the way his body trembled, the way he struggled to hold back, to keep his movements controlled.

“That’s it,” you incited. “Just like that. You’re doing so good, baby.”

He slid his cock deeper, the thick length of him pressing against your breasts, and you could feel the way he pulsed with need. His hands gripped your shoulders, holding on tight as he began to move, his hips rocking back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, your nipples rubbing against his shaft, the sensation almost too much to bear.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “This feels… so good.”

You moaned in agreement, your hands still holding your breasts together, the pressure of his cock sending waves of pleasure through you. “Yeah?” you asked breathlessly. “You like fucking me like this?”

He nodded frantically. “I… I never knew it could feel like this, it’s… fuck.”

You smiled, experiencing a surge of pride and joy from his words. “Mmm hmm,” you praised. “Just keep going. Let it feel good, baby.”

His movements grew faster, more frantic, and you could feel the way his cock throbbed against your skin. His hands tightened on your shoulders, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust harder, deeper, his hips slamming against your breasts with a desperation that made your body ache with want. Your nipples were so hard they ached.

“I’m not… I’m not going to last long,” he warned, his face twisted in pleasure, losing absolute control of the muscles in his face.

“That’s okay. I want you to come—come on them.”

His hips stuttered, and with a low, guttural groan, he came, his cock pulsing as thick ropes of cum shot out, splattering across your chest and breasts. You could feel the heat of it, the way it coated your skin, and the sight of it, mixed with the sound of his moans, had tears gushing down the side of your thigh.

He just stood there, trembling like a leaf in a storm, his breath coming in ragged bursts as though the weight of the moment was too much for his body to contain. Sowly, he pulled back, his cock slipping free from between your breasts, and he looked down at you, his eyes wide with wonder.

His body jolted, shuddering, virtually breaking open beneath the weight of sensation. Knees gave way like cracking fault lines, as if the ground had slipped from under him, and he collapsed, breathless and unraveling. Tremors rolled through him, leaving him limp as he crumpled onto the bed, caught in the grip of his own undoing. Raspy breaths spilled from parted lips as he stared blankly at the ceiling, wide-eyed and dazed, trying to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened. Flushed and trembling, he lay still. His cock twitched against his stomach, the last flickers of release gleaming on his skin like stardust left in the wake of a supernova.

​​You studied him deciduously, a knowing smile creeping onto your face, and then crawled toward him. Every action was intentional and playful, made to heighten the suspense that existed between you. You positioned yourself in the space between his legs, your fingers smoothly moving along his thighs, sensing the tension in the muscles beneath your fingertips. While lingering there for a moment, you basked in the sensation of his heat radiating against your palms. Not only that, but you moved closer, your warm breath brushing against his skin as you placed a lingering, moist kiss on the sensitive inner part of his thigh. His body reacted with a shudder, a soft, quivering breath released,

“Luigi,” you purred. “I love you.”

You kissed him once more, this time higher, near the spot that remained quite sensitive, leaving him pulsating in rage.

“I want to make you feel good, too. Let me take care of you.”

He whimpered, a sound that was both vulnerable and filled with need, and his hips shifted slightly, along with his cock jittering. Even after everything, he was already so responsive, so eager for more. It was clear that titty fucking you had pushed him over the edge, but it had also awakened something deeper, something primal and insatiable.

You smiled against his skin, your kisses growing more purposeful as you trailed your lips closer to his cock. And surprisingly, his cock, still slick with traces of his earlier release, stood rigid and aching. You didn’t waste time. Every kiss was slow, wet, and deliberately filthy, crafted to make him squirm and whimper, right on the edge of sounding like a little bitch.

“You’re such a good boy, Gigi,” you hummed. “Can I put it in my mouth?”

His hands descended, fingers weaving through the strands of your hair, a tremor escaping his lips as he inhaled sharply, his entire body quivering with anticipation. “Please,” he squeaked. “Please, I just—”

Kisssiing the base of his cock, you felt it jerk against your lips, looking up at him with a soft, loving gaze. “Don’t worry, baby,” you promised. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

You leaned in slowly, breath fanning hot against the aching length of him, the tension in his body nearly palpable. A low tremor ran through him, his hands threading through your hair—clutching, desperate, like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Your tongue flicked out to wet your lips, anticipation making your mouth water. Then, without another moment’s hesitation, you dipped forward and took the flushed tip of his cock between your lips, savoring the first taste of him.

Luigi gasped, his hips jerking slightly as your lips wrapped around him. You could feel the heat of his skin, the way he pulsed with need, and it only fueled your desire to please him. You swirled your tongue around the head, savoring the salty precum that had already started to bead at the tip. His breath hitched, and you could hear the faintest whimper escape his lips.

“Oh… oh god,” he moaned. “That’s… that’s so good.”

You hummed in response, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. Encouraged by his reaction, you slowly took more of him into your mouth, your lips sliding down his shaft. You could feel him twitch against your tongue, and you devoured every inch of him that your mouth could consume, the way he filled your mouth so deliciously. With one hand, you stroked the base of his dick, your fingers massaging his balls, while the other hand rested on his thigh, feeling the tension in his muscles.

Now and then, you took a moment to look up at him, your lashes fluttering as you admired the sheer pleasure contorting his face in every direction. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard, and his eyes were half-lidded, caught between feeling immense ecstasy from getting his damn soul nearly sucked out of him and the disbelief that this was actually happening to him in real time. It was clear he had never experienced anything like this before, never even imagined that one day he would get dick sucked this soon in college—by none other than his own girlfriend—after taking a break from doing schoolwork and then ejaculating for the first time intimately ever all over her tits from fucking them. It thrilled you to be the one to show him just how good it could feel and how you were the first one to blow his brains out—quite literally.

You pulled back slightly, letting his cock slide out of your mouth, and then dove back down, taking him deeper this time. You could sense the pressure mounting within him, the way his body began to tremble, and you knew he was nearing the edge. But you wanted to make this last, particularly since this was the first time of ever being sexually intimate, to make sure it was everything he had ever dreamed of and more. You swirled your tongue around his shaft, teasing him, and then sucked gently, your cheeks hollowing as you worked him with your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, I can’t…” he whimpered, his hands gripping your hair tighter. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna come…”

You didn’t stop. Instead, you increased the pace, bobbing your head up and down his cock, your tongue lashing against the sensitive underside. It was no small wonder that he couldn't hold back, and inevitably, he would come. You could taste him, the way his precum coated your tongue, and it only made you more determined to push him over the edge. You hummed again, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body, and you could feel his cock shiver in your mouth as he teetered on the brink of release.

“Please… please, I’m so close,” he whined, his toes curling inwards, barely able to hold on any longer. “I’m gonna… oh god, I think I’m gonna come—”

And then, with a shuddering moan, he did. If the other students on the floor in the residential hall didn't know that he busted all in your mouth before, they certainly did now. His body tensed, his hips bucking slightly as he emptied himself into your mouth. The taste was intense, salty, and somewhat sweet, and you swallowed and savored every last drop you could, daring not to let any of it go to waste. His hands fell from your hair, landing limply at his sides, and he let out a long, shaky breath, his body slumping back against the bed.

Quite literally and figuratively, Luigi was blown away—he was speechless, at a complete loss for words after what had just happened in the past few minutes.

Pleased with yourself, you smiled at your accomplishment, wiping your lips with the back of your hand before crawling up the bed to lie beside him. He turned his head to look at you, his eyes still heavy with pleasure, and reached out to brush his knuckles against your face.

“I can’t believe you just did that… it felt so fucking good.”

“I’m glad,” you replied softly, full of affection. “I wanted to make sure it was special for you.”

He reached out, his fingers drawing across the curve of your jaw, and then he leaned in, pressing a little kiss to your lips. It was tender, overflowing with gratitude and longing, and you could feel the warmth of his affection wrapping around you.

“I love you,” he spoke softly, his lips brushing against yours. “So much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back. “More than anything.”

He pulled you closer against his body, your head resting on his chest, his arms wrapping around you as you nestled into the cozy crook of his neck, feeling the thump of his heartbeat against you. The room cradled you in quietness, filled with the gentle sound of your breathing, and a beautiful sense of contentment washed over you, making everything feel just right.

However, little did you know, it wasn’t so much about what he hadn’t experienced yet, but more about all the things he wanted to try. If only you knew the thoughts running through Luigi's mind now, fueled by his newfound awareness of his heightened sex drive and his recent experiences that didn’t even involve penetrative sex, but still led to his first ever orgasms.

At first, he hesitated, unsure of how to translate his thoughts into action.

“Do you want to…?”

But beneath the uncertainty, you could hear the raw, unfiltered desire in his voice, a barely contained urgency that made your heart race.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and were all smiles. “Whatever you want, Lu,” you ensured, upholding your promise from the very beginning. “We can do whatever you want.”

For a brief moment, his gaze sought yours, searching for confirmation that, however you wished to surrender to pure pleasure, you both shared the willingness and ability to take that next step together. He nodded, a shy smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I… I want to try something.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his words. “What do you want to do?”

He inhaled deeply, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly, before leaning in close. His lips grazed your ear as he whispered his idea, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. A flame of lust smoldered in your core at the very thought of what he was suggesting.

Maybe he wasn’t as inexperienced and innocent as he seemed—well, as he had been.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Are you sure?”

He shook his head, his eyes brimming with determination. “I’m sure,” he reconfirmed. “I want to do this with you.”

You smiled, and your heart swelled with affection. “Then let’s do it,” you murmured, the mere thought inside your body just oozing with excitement about what was to come next. “Let’s try it right here, right now.”

Tag List: @daydreamingwithluigi @mailovesreading @wannabenugget @paolavallado @mangobabygirl @fancyyanci @briarloves @straw8erry @fligniuz

Gilman Prom- June 10, 2015

POPNYC did their thing for his birthday btw

Soft Girls Don’t Stay

Part I – I Wanted to Be That Woman

(“Sí, yo quería ser esa mujer / La madre de tus hijos…”)

It started like all the stories that don’t end well do—slow, careful, innocent. A friendship. A bond so natural it didn’t feel like anything at first. Just comfort. Just ease. Just him.

You met Luigi in college. You were nineteen, heartbroken over some boy who didn’t even like himself, let alone know how to love you. Luigi was two years older. Funny. Smart in the quiet way, where he didn’t need to prove it. The kind of guy who made you feel safe just by being there.

He never tried to make a move. Not then. He was just… there.

The one you called when you needed help with insurance. The one who showed up outside your apartment when you said you were fine but your texts were off.

The one who listened.

The one who always stayed.

You didn’t realize when it shifted.

When friendship started to taste like something else.

Maybe it was the night you watched that stupid movie on his couch and your legs brushed—and neither of you moved. Or when he came to your place after his ex cheated and you spent the night on the floor beside his bed, holding his hand in the dark.

You were just friends.

Friends who slept in the same bed.

Friends who told each other everything.

Friends who started to look at each other a little too long, too late, too often.

“Y juntos caminar hacia el altar / Directo hacia la muerte…”

You knew the moment you were gone for him.

It was the night your last boyfriend left you crying on the sidewalk outside a party. You called Luigi. No words. Just sobs. He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t hesitate. He came.

You remember sitting in the passenger seat of his car, hoodie pulled over your knees, mascara streaked down your face, and him looking over at you like you were breakable. Like he didn’t know what to say—but would still sit with you in the silence until it felt like breathing again.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he said.

You looked at him, eyes swollen. “Then stop leaving every time I start needing you.”

It slipped out. And he didn’t answer.

Just reached over and took your hand.

⸻

You didn’t talk about it the next day.

You never talked about it.

That was your pattern: almosts. Stares. Brushed hands. Long hugs. Texts that said “come over?” and replies that said “I was already on my way.”

You had other people. So did he.

But they didn’t feel like anything.

Sex with them was just movement.

But sex with each other?

It felt like gravity.

⸻

The first time you slept together, it wasn’t planned. It never was.

You were wearing a big t-shirt and nothing else, curled on his couch after another hard week, your legs in his lap. He was talking about a fight with his dad, something old and unresolved. You reached up, brushed a curl behind his ear without thinking.

He froze.

So did you.

Then he kissed you.

Slow. Deep. Like he’d been waiting years.

And maybe he had.

You ended up in his bed. Skin on skin. Breath on breath.

It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t messy. It wasn’t loud.

It was real. So real it made you want to cry. The kind of touch that makes you forget where your body ends and theirs begins.

He said your name like it was a secret. Like a prayer.

And when he came, he buried his face in your neck and whispered, “You feel like home.”

⸻

But in the morning?

He was different.

Quieter. Softer. Still there—but already slipping away.

And you let it happen. Again.

Because that’s what you did.

⸻

That summer, you weren’t together.

But he still got jealous.

You were at a party, laughing at some guy’s joke. Luigi saw you from across the room. His jaw clenched. You could feel it before you even turned around.

Later that night, he cornered you in the hallway.

“You like him?” he asked.

You blinked. “We’re not doing this.”

He stepped closer. “You were touching him.”

“He touched me.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, well, it looked like you wanted it.”

You crossed your arms. “Why do you care?”

He looked at you like you had said something offensive. “Because you’re mine.”

The silence after that was deafening.

You whispered, “Then say it. Out loud. Call me yours.”

He stared at you.

Didn’t say a word.

So you turned around. And walked away.

“Y al final, ni hablar / Los dos nos destruimos…”

⸻

That’s how it always went.

He was there—but not fully.

You loved him—but never enough to stop hurting.

And still, if he called, you came.

If you cried, he showed up.

You once told your best friend, “I know he’s not mine. But it feels like he is. In the ways that count.”

She said, “Then maybe those aren’t the ways that should count.”

⸻

And now, five months later—

You’re folding laundry on the floor of your bedroom when you hear it:

Three soft knocks.

Your whole body stills.

You press your fingers to your lips.

“No,” you whisper to no one. “Not now. Not again.”

You tiptoe to the door. Look through the peephole.

And there he is.

Luigi.

Same curls. Same hoodie. Same hands that used to know how to undo you.

Your heart drops.

And all you hear, again, is the lyric that never stops echoing when it comes to him:

“Y al final, ¿qué tal? / Tú y yo ya no existimos…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part II – I Still Smell Like Yours

“No, no quiero ser esa mujer / Ella se fue a un abismo…”

He didn’t bring flowers. He brought a box. A worn, cardboard box with your handwriting on the side—half-faded hearts you’d drawn in Sharpie a lifetime ago. Inside, you already knew what you’d find: your sweatshirt, your journal, probably that hair clip he used to slide off you like undressing was second nature.

He didn’t knock like he was sorry.

He knocked like he was hoping you’d still answer.

And you did.

Because of course you did.

You opened the door slowly, quietly, like maybe if you moved gently enough, the past wouldn’t rush in behind him. But the second you saw him—same curls, same hoodie, same mouth you used to kiss just to shut him up—it hit you like heat.

And worse?

He looked relieved to see you.

“Hey,” he said, voice low.

You didn’t say anything.

He shifted, awkward. Held up the box like a white flag.

“I found this in my closet. Thought it was yours.”

You folded your arms. “You drove all this way for a box?”

He glanced down. Shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“Bullshit.”

He smiled, just barely. “Yeah.”

A pause.

“You gonna let me in?”

You should’ve said no.Should’ve slammed the door and let him carry his regrets back home. But your body moved before your brain could catch up.

You stepped aside.

The air changed the second he walked in.

He looked around like the room still belonged to him. Like nothing had changed. Like you hadn’t cried into your pillow every night for the first three weeks after he ghosted you in broad daylight.

His eyes landed on the candle burning by the window. Vanilla and rosewater.

He closed his eyes for a beat.

“You still wear that lotion?”

You didn’t answer.

He smiled to himself. “Of course you do.”

You stayed near the door, arms crossed. “Ten minutes. That’s all you get.”

He set the box down. “You look good.”

“Luigi.”

“Just saying.”

“You don’t get to say that anymore.”

⸻

Silence. The kind that buzzes in your ears.

He turned to face you fully now. His voice softened. “I missed you.”

You shook your head. “No. You missed the way I loved you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?”

He stepped closer. Not touching. Just near enough that it felt like skin on skin.

“You think I didn’t love you?” he said, voice low.

“I think you loved me the way scared people do,” you said. “Only when I wasn’t asking for anything.”

He blinked.

You pressed on.

“I never wanted a superhero, Lu. I just wanted someone who wouldn’t run every time it got real.”

“Tú no eres aquel que prometió / Sería mi superhéroe…”

His jaw tensed. “You think it was easy for me?”

“You made it look effortless.”

“That’s not—”

“I begged you,” you snapped. “I fucking begged you to just show up. To tell me it wasn’t all in my head. And you left me on read.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“So you said nothing? For months?”

His voice cracked. “I was scared.”

You laughed. It was bitter and small. “You were scared? I let you see all of me. I made you my safest place. I would’ve done anything for you.”

“I know.”

“Then why wasn’t I ever enough?”

The words hung there. Heavy. Sacred.

He stepped forward again. Too close now.

“You were always enough,” he whispered. “That’s what scared me.”

You stared at him. Your throat burned.

“Don’t,” you said, voice barely holding. “Don’t do this if you’re not going to stay.”

He touched your cheek. Just barely. Fingers brushing skin like it still belonged to him.

“I never stopped thinking about you.”

“You stopped calling me.”

His hand dropped. “I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me.”

“I didn’t,” you whispered. “But I wanted you to want to try.”

His eyes dropped to your lips.

You felt your heart stutter.

Because you wanted him to kiss you.

God, you still did.

But you couldn’t afford it. Not again. Not this time.

He looked at the couch, then back at you. “Can I sit?”

You nodded slowly.

He sat, elbows on knees, staring at the floor. You stayed standing.

He looked up. “You look happy.”

“Does that bother you?”

A beat.

“Yes.”

You moved to the arm of the couch, careful not to be close. He turned his head toward you.

“You see anyone?” he asked.

You smirked. “Would it matter?”

“Don’t.”

You tilted your head. “Why not? You saw other people. You had no problem letting them touch what I built.”

His brows pulled together. “That’s not fair.”

“You’re right,” you said. “Because at least they knew what we were.”

You stared at each other. You saw it in his face—the pain. The wanting. The jealousy.

“You were never mine,” he said, voice soft. “But you always felt like you were.”

Your eyes welled.

“And that’s the problem.”

In the silence that followed, you both knew:

There was no button to bring you back to the beginning.

No reset. No rose-colored ending.

Just this.

Just heartbreak dressed like history.

“¿Y dónde quedó ese botón / Que lleva a la felicidad?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part III – The Goodbye I Deserved

“Y que todo acabó, no queda más / Seremos dos extraños…”

You didn’t mean to sit down.

But your legs gave in before your pride did.

You were on the far end of the couch now, knees pulled up, palms clenched. Luigi sat across from you, elbows on his knees, like he was waiting for the right time to speak.

Like this was a funeral.

And he’d shown up late with nothing to offer but the truth.

“I used to picture it,” he said quietly. “Us. A place together. You in my hoodie, yelling at me for using the wrong sponge on the dishes.”

You looked down. Smiled without warmth. “You never said that before.”

“I didn’t know how to say anything before.”

You scoffed. “No. You just left.”

He nodded. Took it. “I know.”

A long pause.

“You were the only one I told everything to,” he said. “The only one who made me feel like I wasn’t too much. You made the world quieter.”

“And you made mine louder,” you said, looking up. “You made me doubt myself. You made me wait. You made me feel like love was something I had to earn.”

He winced.

You continued, voice steady now. “I wanted to be that woman. The one you saw a future with. The one who got your last name, your kids, your ugly coffee mugs.”

“Sí, yo quería ser esa mujer / La madre de tus hijos…”

Your throat tightened.

“I would’ve built a life with you, Luigi,” you said, barely above a whisper. “I would’ve chosen you. Over and over. Even when you didn’t choose me back.”

He looked broken now.

“I still would,” he said, voice raw. “If you let me.”

You stared at him. Silent.

And that silence was the answer.

He exhaled. Closed his eyes. Rubbed his hands together like he could warm up from the cold you’d become.

When he spoke again, his voice cracked in places it never used to.

“I know I fucked up,” he said. “I know I didn’t show up when it mattered. But if you ever need me—if you’re ever falling apart at 2AM or you just need someone to show up without asking why—”

He looked up.

“I’ll be there.”

You blinked. He kept going.

“I’ll always be here. I’ll always wait for you. Even if you never come back.”

There it was.

The thing you wanted for so long.

Too late.

But still.

You let yourself feel it.

You crossed the space between you. Sat next to him. Pressed your forehead to his.

“You were my favorite almost,” you whispered. “But I can’t keep choosing you in every lifetime where you never choose me.”

His hands trembled as they gripped your waist, but he didn’t pull you in.

He knew better now.

You stayed like that for a moment. One last inhale. One last warmth.

Then you stood.

He watched you walk to the door. Barefoot. Steady.

You looked back only once.

And with the softest voice you’d ever used on him, you said:

“Goodbye, Luigi.”

“Yo te olvidaré, me olvidarás… hasta nunca.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I hope you guys like this hate to admit it but I cried while writing this (:

@luigisbambinaaa @luigis-wetdream @multi-culti-girl @mangionesdaisy @snoopy184 @daydreamingwithluigi @iinfinitelimits

https://x.com/laceyyrosario/status/1917330533832441862?t=3LDOrufBVjjOC5pY1XxbKA&s=19

Lmao not luigi being possessive..

I SAID.. DID.YOU.LEAVE.TODAY!??

STOPPSJDJDJE this was the text message that I was talking about with an anon last week about him checking your location!!! 😭 and him sending 3-4 separate text messages asking once again if she was home omg he’s so adamant and nosyyyyyy, like why is he kinda-

in desperate need of virgin lu hcs please ;)

virgin lu headcanons ;)

──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ he’d always catch himself staring at you for way longer than necessary, he’d be in the dining hall with his friends engaging in conversation, then as soon as he’d see you walk in, he’d go silent and just gawk at you, in pure awe. his friends would immediately notice and tease him about it. saying things like “when are you finally gonna bag her, mangione?” “are just gonna keep staring at her like some pussy and not even speak to her?”

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ he first interacted with you properly when your computer science professor paired you guys up for a project. when he was first told that his partner for the project would be you, he couldn’t believe it. and to make things even better for him, when he looked towards where you were sitting he saw you staring at him, while giving him the SULTRIEST smirk.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ you guys ended up exchanging phone numbers, which made luigi feel like he was on top of the moon. he’d always feel too nervous to text first, so whenever he’d receive a text from you, his cock would always leak a tiny bit.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ you also gave him your instagram, and he followed you, but little did you know that he’d already gone through it. he’d seen every single picture of you in your little red bikini and little black dress, and every single picture and video you have on your highlights.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ what you also didn’t know was that during the lonely nights he’d spend curled up in bed in his dorm while fucking his hand like a pathetic teenager, that scrolling through your instagram while fantasising about you being next to him, touching him in no way that any woman has ever touched him before while whispering dirty words in his ear, was something that he’d done more times than he’d like to willingly admit.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ he imagines you sat atop of him like an angel, gently guiding his hand across your folds as you teach him how to please you. the look on your face as he gently slides a finger in. another scenario that frequents his mind features his head between your thighs, tongue moving along your folds as you grab his curls and moan, praising him for being able to make you feel so good.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ and yet, he sometimes overthinks. what if he’s bad in bed? what if you’d laugh at him?

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ luigi is an attractive man, so he’s obviously had plenty of opportunities to lose his virginity in the past, but he always turned them down. they were never you.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ he’s awfully possessive of you, even though you aren’t his. whenever he sees you talking to another guy on campus he always smiles and waves at you to be polite, even though he’s absolutely seething on the inside.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ when he’s trying to sleep, you’re always the star of his dreams. always on top of him. riding him, dominating him. fucking him dumb. letting out cries of pleasure and telling him how good his cock feels, how wonderfully he stretches your pussy out, all while you have your hand wrapped around his throat.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ he thinks about sucking on your tits, with you sensually running your fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead, while stroking his cock with your other hand. half of him loves thinking about sucking on your tits, the other half feels ashamed. what would you think if you found out? would you be grossed out? would you laugh at him? or would you want that too?

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ one night when you guys facetimed each other to discuss the computer science project, you decided to toy with him by wearing the tightest crop top you could locate in your closet, with no bra on underneath. as soon as he picked up your call and saw how you looked, even though his room was dark you could still see how flushed he was. he fell asleep that night thinking about how hard your nipples looked when you had that top on. and you fell asleep that night with a smirk on your face, knowing that you had him right where you wanted him.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ he’d never admit to you that he’s a virgin at first, because he’d think that you’d look at him differently. and he wouldn’t want that. he wouldn’t want you seeing him as some loser.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ he thinks about how your face would look as you sink yourself onto his cock for the first time. how flushed you’d look, if your eyes would roll to the back of your head.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ whenever you’d invite him to your dorm to work on the project, as soon as you’d open the door he’d always find himself staring at your tits. you don’t mind, in fact, that’s why you never wear a bra whenever you know he’s coming over.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ his mind always imagines how you’d react to seeing his cock for the first time. would your eyes light up with lust? would you sink to your knees immediately upon him showing it?

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖୨୧˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ he tries to put on a front for you so that you don’t think he’s weird. a smooth, flirty front. but you know he’s not the cocky little shit he tries so desperately to be. you see straight through him ;)

──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────

EEK this is the first ever headcanon post i’ve ever written!!! i hope u guys like it 😣 also ANY feedback is graciously accepted

haunting you

summary: after your friend layla cancels your plans for the night, your “situationship” luigi comes over and you both take things to the next level.

warnings: smut, virginity loss (luigi) breastfeeding (f receiving) fingering (f receiving) pronebone (lol) breeding, some brief fluff at the end

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

you aren't usually into reality shows, usually you'd be spending the precious time you have in your dorm either watching a movie, or doing computer science homework, which usually entails attempting to tackle a programming problem with python.

yet tonight, you find yourself doing what you constantly told yourself you wouldn't do. you're sprawled out on your bed, with your eyes on the first reality show that you'd seen come up on netflix. in your defense, you're only doing it to kill time. you're waiting for your best friend layla to call you, she was meant to be at your dorm 10 minutes ago so you and her could get ready to go to the bar together.

right as the crappy show you're watching began to get half interesting, your phone starts ringing. and when you look over at who's calling, sure enough, it's layla. but when you answer her call, her voice comes through the phone sounding panicky and frustrated.

"okay, PLEASE don't get mad at me...."

you raise an eyebrow. that's never a good start.

"layla? hey girl what's the matter? where are you?" you ask, concerned for your friend.

"i can't come out tonight," she rushes out. "i’m so so so sorry, it's just... you know darren? my ex? he showed up at my dorm and it turned into this whole thing, and well... i just can't tonight."

you exhale, snuggling further into the comfort of your bed. darren's always trouble. him and layla had broken up months ago and he was still hung up over her, when he saw her out on a date with her new boyfriend he decided it would be a good idea to carve the word "SLUT" into her car door.

"layla, it's alright. promise."

you hear her breathe out a sigh of relief on her end. "are you sure? i feel like such an asshole.

you smile. "i swear, it's fine. i wasn't really in the mood to go out tonight anyway."

she groans dramatically. "thank you... i owe you, like, ten drinks."

you laugh, shaking your head even though she can't even see you. "i’m gonna hold you to that."

and then she's gone, the line going dead with a soft beep. you let go of your phone and let it fall onto your bed, staring at the ceiling.

looks like it's just you and god awful tv tonight. and honestly? you don't really mind.

until your phone chimes.

you've gotten a text.

probably from layla, she's probably texting to apologise yet again, something she has a habit of doing whenever anything like that happens between you two.

as you check your phone, your face heats up as you read that it's not from layla, it's from him.

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

luigi: hey :)

your brows lift. he never texts first. this is a surprise.

you quickly type out your reply.

you: hi handsome :) what you up to?

something's clearly up. you're always the one to text first. not luigi.

your phone buzzes.

luigi: nothing much, you still going out with layla tn?

you smirk at the screen, stretching lazily as you write your response. he has no idea that she bailed.

you: no, she cancelled, i'm just in my dorm rn

not even a minute later, you hear another buzz.

luigi: you doing anything?

you pause and bite your lip while you stare at his message, fingers hovering over the keyboard. you know what he means, or at least what he wants it to mean. you could toy with him. make him wait. let him squirm a little. make him work for it. but something about the way he texted you first... something about the way he's asking instead of just assuming... makes your stomach flip.

you let him sit with it for a minute before finally replying.

you: why? you lonely? ;)

three dots appear immediately. and then...

luigi: just asking.

luigi: are you doing anything or no?

you hum, staring at the screen before finally deciding where you want this night to go.

you: come find out.

yet another buzz...

luigi: be there in 10.

your stomach twists as you turn off your phone. but it's not from nerves. it's from anticipation. you sit up, smoothing your shirt, running a hand through your hair. there was absolutely no point in pretending that this wasn't exactly what you wanted.

you've done this dance before, you've made out with him until your lips were sore, dry humped him until he'd made a mess in his pants, marked his neck with hickies, but every time, he pulled back before it could go any further. said he wanted to "take his time." you never pressed him for more, you'd just tease him about it, calling him cute for holding out on you.

it's funny, he's not even yours. officially that is. but it would be a lie to say that you didn't feel your stomach churn with jealously whenever you saw him talking to another girl. just yesterday when you were on your way to go grab lunch, you saw him laughing with one of your classmates from the computer science class you and him shared, and you felt sick. but all you did was smile, say hello, and continue on your way.

your little "arrangement" is a secret. sometimes you wonder what people would think if they knew that you had luigi mangione, the sweet and popular nerd, cum in his pants while he moaned and begged underneath you.

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

you're in the middle of brushing your hair when there's a knock at your door, sharp and deliberate. you put your hairbrush down on the bed and let him wait a second longer than necessary, just to see if he'll knock again.

silence.

when you finally open the door, he's standing there, wearing his adidas hoodie that you always saw him wearing on campus. you also notice that he has his hands in his pockets and that his curls are messy. almost as if he's been running his fingers through them the whole walk over. but it's his face that catches you off guard.

he looks nervous. you knew something was up from the moment he made the rare choice on his part to text you first.

he's not his usual shy but smug, waiting for you to make a move kind of nervous. this is different. his jaw is clenched, his weight shifts, and for the first time since you met him... luigi looks unsure.

"lu?" you raise your brows. "are you alright?"

he exhales sharply. "can i come in?"

you stop and think for a second. he's never asked to come in before. most of the time he just walks in, kicks off his shoes, and throws himself onto your bed like he owns the place. but tonight? he's not his usual self. not by a long shot.

"...yeah," you say slowly, stepping aside to make way for him.

he walks past you but doesn't go to the bed. he just stands there, fists tight in his pockets, shoulders squared like he's bracing himself for something major to occur.

you close the door, arms crossing and brows furrowing. "luigi." you study him, narrowing your eyes. "what's the matter with you? you're acting kinda strange."

he shifts again. he doesn't meet your gaze. he looks like a puppy that just got scolded. you'd be lying if you said that you didn't find that look cute on him.

you sit on your bed and gently pat the spot next to you. it's not until he joins you that you realise just how timid he seems, how red faced he is.

"lu?" you ask softly. you want to be gentle with him. for now anyway.

then, finally...

"i wanna do it."

you're confused. really confused.

"i'm sorry?"

he clenches his jaw again. "it's just... this... us... this whole... arrangement." he exhales sharply, like he's forcing himself to say it. "i know this past month and a half we've always just kissed and done other stuff, but we've never gone further. i've always pulled away and told you i wanna wait. but tonight... i wanna go all the way. i wanna... y'know... fuck you.”

his words hit you like a slap.

wait.

you stare at him, processing what has just come out of his mouth, trying to piece together what he's saying, what he's really saying. if he's just telling you this now... after all this time... then does that mean...

that's when it clicks. that's when you fully realise why hes been holding back the whole time you and him have been messing around.

"...wait." your voice is slower now, careful. testing. "so you're telling me...."

he bows his head. keeping his gaze away from you.

your lips part. "are you.... you're... you're a virgin. aren't you?" luigi tenses. his fists curl even tighter, like he's just waiting for you to laugh at him. for you to ridicule him. but you don't have it in you. you can't do that to him, you won't do that to him, not while he's next to you looking all afraid.

this whole time?

all those nights he let you grind against him until he was a moaning mess, all those times he pulled back right before things got too heated, you thought he was just teasing you, playing hard to get. but no. he was waiting.

everything all of a sudden makes sense to you now.

you crawl into his arms. "you're actually serious? like this isn't a joke?"

he wraps you up in a tight embrace and stays silent. doesn't meet your eyes. and the fact that he's so flustered? it does something to you. because this isn't the luigi you're used to.

this isn't the cocky little shit who you've been spending practically every free period messing around in your dorm with. this isn't the cocky little shit who leans too close, who smirks when he catches you staring, who always makes it seem like he's two steps ahead.

this is something else entirely.

he's looking at you now, almost as if he doesn't know what to do with himself. like he wants this so badly it hurts, but he's terrified of messing it up.

"luigi." you speak his name softly, like you're comforting a toddler who's on the brink of tears. "why didn't you tell me? you know i wouldn't have judged you..." you press a gentle kiss to his cheek to assert your point.

he swallows hard, and caresses the spot that you'd just kissed.

"because i knew you'd look at me like that."

you're confused again. "like what?"

he exhales sharply, resting his chin on your head. "because i thought you'd think that i’d need to be handled carefully... like you'd think i'd need special treatment or some shit."

you close your eyes and breathe him in. special treatment? that's not what you're thinking at all. poor baby. "lu i-"

he groans, rubbing your back. "i guess i was also... scared shitless." he adds quickly. "of... fucking it up. because i've really cherished the moments we've shared together. i kept putting it off because i kept thinking to myself that you'd ghost me afterwards."

your chest tightens and you look up at him. "you thought i'd ghost you after?"

his head snaps down to meet your gaze. "yeah... i kept telling myself that if we did have sex, you'd find me lame in bed and would never speak to me again. and i wouldn't want that because the way I feel about you... it's different. and i didn't wanna just rush into it you know what i mean?" he's speaking in a low, almost shy tone. "i wanted to make sure that when it finally happened, it was right... and tonight, it feels right."

you find yourself blushing at his admission and feel your heart beat faster. he's never been this forward and honest with you before.

"lu..." you tease, your lips curving into a playful smile. "so, you're saying that you've been stalling because you're a virgin and didn't wanna embarrass yourself?"

his goes red again. "yeah..."

you feel his arms tighten around you as you huff out a soft laugh. "you asshole! and here i was thinking you were playing hard to get!"

that gets a chuckle out of him, and the atmosphere shifts, the tension easing.

"yeah?" he smirks, cocky, but there's still something shy in the way he looks down at you.

"yeah," you say, hand dipping under his shirt to rub his abs, going just gently enough to make him shiver. "you had me losing my mind, thinking you were being a dickhead on purpose!"

he bites his lip as if he's trying not to laugh, but then his eyes darken, his expression shifts, and suddenly, whatever held him back before is gone.

"i don't want to keep you waiting anymore," he says, and it's not cocky, it's not teasing, it's authentic. he kisses your forehead, as if he's trying to ground himself. "but right now... i want it. i don't want to keep pretending like I'm not ready when i am."

you nuzzle into his chest and sigh contently. "so why now?"

"because i finally get it," he murmurs. "it's not about whether or not i'm good on the first go." he gives you another forehead kiss, making your cheeks turn scarlet once more. "it's about you. about us. and i don't want to wait anymore."

and with that, you kiss him.

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

the kiss starts soft, familiar, his lips brushing yours with that quiet confidence you've come to know, but there's still a flicker of hesitation beneath it, a reminder that this is still new for him in so many ways. your hands slide up his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as you pull him closer.

even though it's not the first time you've kissed each other like this, this one seems to hold a little more depth, a bit more of him surrendering to the moment. his lips press against yours, firm yet warm, and as he leans into it, you feel the stiffness in his shoulders melt away, settling into the familiar rhythm you've spent the last few months carving out together.

his breathing grows irregular, and the shake in his fingers sparks a thrill through you, another reminder that he's still finding his way with you. lost in the kiss, your balance shifts, and suddenly you're tumbling backward, pulling him with you as you both collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and muffled laughter.

"you alright?" he mumbles, voice all gravelly and soft, a crooked smirk pulling at his lips like he's still half lost in the chaos of the fall. you nod, the warmth of his closeness seeping into you, and before you can answer, he leans down again, pressing a softer kiss to the corner of your mouth less urgent this time, but no less deliberate. it's like he's savoring it now, the rush giving way to a quiet intensity that makes your chest tighten.

you feel his trembling hands snag the edge of your blouse. he tugs it up, slow like he's scared to break something, until it slips off and falls to the floor. he freezes, hands dangling in the air, eyes falling to your now exposed tits.

his breath hitches hard, cheeks blooming red as he stares, totally wrecked, the first time hes ever seen a girl this way.

"holy... shit." he mumbles, voice cracking, barely a whisper, and his fingertips ghost over your skin, shaky but reverent.

his fingertips linger, barely brushing your skin, and the silence stretches out, thick with the sound of his uneven breathing. you tilt your head, catching the way his eyes are still glued to you, wide and unblinking, like he's afraid you'll vanish if he looks away. "lu? what's wrong?" you ask, voice soft.

he blinks, startled, like you've pulled him out of a trance, and his hands jerk back an inch before he catches himself. his cheeks flare even redder, if that's possible, and he swallows hard, throat bobbing. "n-nothing's wrong," he stammers, voice rough and low, cracking on the edges. "it's just... you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen in my whole entire life."

the words spill out, raw and unguarded, and your own cheeks heat up, a flush creeping up your neck. "you don't mean that…” you mumble, looking away for a second, your voice small as the compliment sinks in and leaves you flustered.

he freezes, eyes widening even more, if that's possible, and shakes his head quickly. "no, i-i do!" insists, tripping over the words in his rush to get them out. "i swear, i mean it. you're... unreal." his gaze flickers up to meet yours, holding it for a shaky moment before dropping back down to your tits, locking onto your tits with that same stunned, unblinking gaze.

his voice comes out soft, almost timid. "can i...um... can i suck on 'em?" he pauses, face burning red, and his eyes flick up to yours for a split second before darting back down. "i've... i've always wanted to suck a girl's boobs..." he admits, voice cracking with nerves, and he bites his lip, hands twitching as if he's bracing for rejection.

"please? if that's okay? i just... i wanna make you feel good." the question hangs there, shy and earnest, wrapped in that same reverent, trembling adoration.

you swallow, heart thudding a little faster, and your voice comes out softer than you mean it to. “yeah… okay.” you say. the words slipping out before you can overthink them. your blush deepens, spreading warm across your skin, and you glance away for a second, suddenly hyper aware of the way his gaze is still glued to you.

his eyes snap up to yours, like he can’t believe what he just heard. “o-okay…” he stammers, voice cracking, and a tiny, shaky smile tugs at the corner of his lips, equal parts disbelief and awe. his hands flex, unsure where to go, and he shifts closer, tentative but eager, like he’s afraid to break the spell.

he leans in, slow and worshipful, his breath hot against your bare chest. his lips brush your skin first, tentative, pressing soft, shaky kisses across the swell of your tits, his mouth trembling. his hands rise, hesitant at first, then bolder, cupping your breasts gently. his fingers squeeze, kneading the soft flesh with a mix of curiosity and awe, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as a low, ragged groan escapes him. “fucking gorgeous…” he mutters to himself, voice thick and breaking, completely lost in you.

then, emboldened, he parts his lips and takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. the sudden, firm pull sends a jolt of pleasure through you, sharp and electric, as his tongue flicks over the sensitive bud, warm and slick against your skin.

his teeth graze ever so slightly as he pulls back with a soft, lewd pop before diving back in, sucking greedily. his other hand keeps squeezing, fingers digging in just enough to feel desperate, and his breath comes in hot, uneven bursts between each sloppy, reverent pull of his mouth.

after a moment, his confidence inches up, and he pulls back just enough to speak, lips still brushing your damp skin. his voice is low, almost drowned out by his nerves as he stumbles over his next thought. “could i… um… rub your clit too? while i’m… doing this?” his eyes dart up to yours, wide and pleading, his face somehow redder still.

“i-i read this book about, uh, women’s pleasure,” he blurts, words tripping over each other, “and it said foreplay’s important… like, to get women ready for sex. i just… i wanna make sure i’m doing it right.” his fingers twitch against your sides, restless and waiting, that same nervous, heartfelt devotion shining through every faltering word.

the air hums with a charged stillness, his ragged breaths weaving through the heat of the moment as his lips linger near your damp skin.

“lu.… do you even know where the clit is?” you ask as your blush burns hotter, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you watch him. his eyes widen for a split second, caught off guard, but then something shifts in his expression.

he swallows hard, adams apple bobbing, and his voice comes out low, still shaky but with a thread of assurance. “y-yeah, i do,” he says, nodding quickly as if to convince himself as much as you. “i mean… i read about it, y’know? in that book. it’s… uh… it’s up near the top, right? like, where it’s real sensitive?” his cheeks flare redder, but his gaze holds yours a little longer this time, earnest and unsteady, like he’s clinging to every word he’s memorized. “i-i think i can find it. i just… really wanna try. for you.”

his other hand trembles as it slides lower, fumbling over the edge of your panties. his fingers hook the soaked fabric, knuckles brushing the damp heat of your inner thigh, and he yanks them aside with a shaky jerk.

the cool air hits your slick, pulsing cunt, and his breath chokes off in a sharp gasp. he freezes, eyes dropping to the sight of your bare pussy glistening folds spread open, wet and swollen, your clit peeking out, begging for his touch. “oh fuck…” luigi rasps, voice breaking, a raw, reverent curse as he stares, completely fucking entranced.

his pupils dilate, swallowing the color of his eyes, and his mouth hangs slack, a thin thread of drool pooling at the corner as he takes in every slick, pink detail. “it’s… so fucking pretty.” he mutters, barely audible, like he’s witnessing something divine he’s too small to comprehend.

the words hit you like a punch, and your blush explodes even more than it did before, a fierce, burning heat flooding your cheeks, your neck, even your ears. you feel exposed, vulnerable, and impossibly flattered all at once, the raw awe in his voice making your skin prickle and your breathing irregular.

he’s just drinking you in, thumb hovering an inch from your throbbing clit, trembling like he’s scared to ruin the perfection in front of him. his other hand squeezes your tit harder, fingers sinking into the flesh as a lifeline, while his breath ghosts over your sensitive nipple. then, he snaps out of it, blinking fast, and his thumb presses down, grazing your clit in a clumsy, shaky swipe.

the contact sends a white hot spark up your spine, your hips twitching involuntarily, and he gasps again, eyes darting up to yours. “a-are you alright? am i doing a good job?” he asks, voice thick with panic and adoration, every syllable soaked in that nervous, aching need to please you, even as he’s still half lost in the dripping, mesmerizing sight of your cunt.

you nod fast, heart pounding, and force the words out between gasps. “yeah, you’re… you’re doing so good lu…” you pant, voice fraying as his thumb rubs harder, smearing your slick over your throbbing clit. the sensation is overwhelming, a white hot rush that makes your thighs quake and your pussy clench, a fresh gush of arousal coating his fingers. your head lolls back, a guttural whimper spilling out as your body arches into him, chasing every stroke.

his breath snags at your praise, a shaky huff of relief, and his eyes spark with a mix of awe and hunger. “fuck… really?” he mutters, a trembling grin flashing across his lips.

he dives back to your chest, mouth latching onto your tit with a wet, hungry pull, sucking your nipple deep into his mouth. his tongue lashes over the swollen bud, teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver down your spine, while spit trails from his lips, leaving your skin slick and gleaming. his left hand kneads your breast that his mouth isn’t worshipping, fingers sinking into the soft flesh with rough, desperate squeezes, as he uses his free hand to keep rubbing your clit, each motion dragging you closer to the edge.

“wanna make you feel… so fucking good,” he groans against your tit, voice muffled and raw, the words vibrating through you as your body hums, every nerve alight with the filthy, fervent pleasure he’s wrenching from you.

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

minutes go by, and luigi now has three fingers spearing into your drenched cunt, thick and unforgiving, stretching your tight, quivering walls as he rams them in knuckle deep. the pace is brutal, a wet, obscene slosh echoing with every thrust as your slick floods his hand, running in hot sticky rivers down his fingers and splattering onto the sheets. your pussy grips his digits like a vice, spasming and gushing, the sopping mess of it coating his skin as he pleasures you, wild and unhinged.

how he’s nailing every perfect spot, driving you wild with precision despite being a virgin blows your mind. knowing the nerd that luigi is, you know for sure that he must’ve fucking DEVOURED a stack of books on female pleasure to get this damn good.

your moans claw out, ragged and animalistic, each one a shredded howl as pleasure twists into a vicious, coiling ache in your core. your hips buck hard against his hand, thighs trembling so fiercely they slap together, your body a shuddering, sweat drenched wreck.

but he’s moaning too, deep and primal, the sound tearing from his throat as his hips jerk helplessly, jeans bulging. his face twists, sweat pouring off his brow as he gasps like he’s choking, a fat, wet stain blooming across his crotch where his cock pulses and leaks, soaking through the fabric.

you catch him falling apart flushed, frantic, a trembling mess and rasp, “what’s wrong?” your voice a gravelly wreck, hands digging into his arms as your own edge sharpens.

luigi’s eyes snap open, and he groans, “you’re gonna make me fucking cum in my pants,” the words spilling out in a desperate, fractured whimper, “and you haven’t even touched me.”

his cock is throbbing so hard you can see it twitch through the drenched denim, pre cum oozing in thick, messy streaks.

“no, stop.” you snarl, voice raw and commanding, shoving him back, his fingers ripping free from your sloppy, pulsing cunt with a loud, wet suck. “fuck me instead.”

the words hit him like a slap, and he stalls, hands slick and shaking, jaw slack as he sucks in air. “y-yeah, fuck, alright,” he chokes, voice a ruined mess, clawing at his zipper with slippery, fumbling fingers, racing to unleash his swollen, dripping cock, the air thick with the hot, filthy promise of what’s about to go down.

you’re able to see it for the first time, and your eyes widen.

it’s massive, thick and veiny, flushed dark with need, the tip glistening with a fat bead of pre cum that drips obscenely. shock jolts through you, a fleeting thought of how the fuck is that fitting?

but there’s no time to process it. he’s already moving, hands rough and urgent as he grabs your hips, flipping you over with a grunt.

your stomach hits the surface, breath punching out of you as he manhandles you onto your belly, his slick fingers digging into your flesh, positioning you fast and messy, the raw hunger in his grip promising no pause, no mercy.

he keeps you pinned face down, his trembling hands clamping your hips with a bruising grip, fingernails carving crescent moons into your flesh. his swollen cock, thick and veiny, drags across your ass, leaving a hot, gooey smear of pre cum before he notches the fat, dripping head against your soaked entrance.

he hesitates, chest heaving with wet, shuddering breaths, and rasps, “you ready?” his voice a broken, guttural wreck.

“y-yes lu…” you stammer, voice half smothered against the mattress, your pussy throbbing, arousal pouring out as you tilt your hips toward him, needy but braced. he growls low in his throat, primal and ragged, and then he pushes in slowly, his cock splitting you apart, stretching your drenched cunt wide.

the burning, unrelenting stretch hits you hard, and you scream.

“fuck! i n-need a sec…” your voice trembles as your body quakes, struggling to adjust to the sheer, overwhelming size of him. your hole clenches hard, spasming around him.

while for luigi, it’s the first time he’s ever been inside a pussy, and the feeling slams into him like a tidal wave. “oh my g-god… fuck, fuck!” he whimpers, a high, shattered sound ripping from his chest as your hot, sopping heat wraps him tight, squeezing him in a slick, pulsing chokehold.

you twist your head, breathless, and croak, “you alright?” his hands shake violently on your hips, gripping harder, and he chokes out, “i didn’t know… didn’t know it’d feel this fucking good…” his voice splintering into a near sob, every nerve frying as your cunt hugs him, wet and molten, drowning him in the raw, mind bending bliss of finally being inside you.

he swallows hard, voice a shaky, guttural wreck, and mumbles “are you alright?” the words barely coherent, thick with desperation as he hovers on the edge, waiting for your answer.

you nod weakly. “yeah…” spilling from your lips, voice raw as your cunt throbs around him, caught between pain and a dark, blooming heat. that’s all he needs.

“fuck… i’m gonna start moving.” he groans, the sound splintering from his throat, and he starts to thrust. it’s slow at first, a torturous pull as he eases his thick, veiny shaft back, the swollen head dragging along your tender walls, stretching your dripping hole with a lewd, sucking tug that forces a ragged gasp from your chest.

then he slams back in, deep and merciless, his sheer bulk splitting you wider, profanities tearing from you as he fills you completely, balls slapping against your skin. the stretch bites, then melts into something jagged and electric, your pussy gripping him like a drenched, ravenous fist, slurping noisily.

“holy… shit, it’s too much” he whines, voice cracking into a high, frantic wail, hips jerking forward with rising need, each thrust a sloppy, vicious plunge that stuffs you to the brim. your juices gush out, glazing his cock in a shiny, wet sheen, splashing in hot, messy streaks down your thighs and over his groin as he drives into you, the loud, wet smack of his pounding echoing through the room.

you scream, voice raw and splintered, fingers clawing at the surface beneath you, nails gouging deep as your hips jerk back to meet his thrusts, craving the savage depth even through the sting. his hands grip tighter, nails leaving angry red marks in your skin.

“fuck… feels like heaven…” he moans he rams into you, lost in the tight, dripping grip of your cunt, his first, sucking him in deep, wringing him dry, every thrust setting his nerves ablaze. his rhythm quickens, slow, teasing drags morphing into wild, frantic snaps, his hips slamming into your ass with loud, wet smacks.

suddenly, his hand rears back and lands a sharp, stinging slap across your ass cheek, the crack ringing out as your skin jiggles and a hot, red flush blooms under his palm. you scream again, a sharp “oh shit!" bursting from your lips. your body jolts forward and your pussy clenches tighter around him in reflex, a wild mix of shock and pleasure ripping through you.

“christ... this pussy's insane…" he pants, voice a trembling, slurred wreck, his cock hammering deeper, stretching you to breaking as your cunt squishes and gushes around him.

minutes dissolve into a sweaty, moaning blur, and then he collapses onto your back with a guttural grunt, his weight crushing you flat as he shifts into pronebone. his chest molds to your spine, his hot, panting breaths blasting your neck as he keeps fucking you, faster and harder, his cock slamming deep with every savage thrust.

“can’t… stop…” he whimpers, voice breaking into a sob, arm wrapping around your neck like a steel band, trapping you beneath him as he pounds your cunt into submission, your ass rippling with each violent, wet collision, the overwhelming feel of him… so huge, so deep… shattering any last shred of composure you had.

his lips crash onto your neck, wet, frantic and ravenous. he kisses you there, sloppy and wild, his tongue lashing out to lap at the sweat beading on your flesh, teeth scraping as he groans deep into your skin, and you feel the sound going through your bones. his thrusts never slow, each one a brutal slam, his cock splitting you wide, the swollen head battering your cervix with a force that makes your vision blur.

you’re moaning like a pornstar and your cunt is clenching so tight it’s like you’re trying to milk him dry.

“shit! i’m so close!” he growls against your neck, each word punctuated by a messy kiss, his lips smearing spit across your skin as his hips falter, thrusts turning wilder, even more frantic than before. his cock throbbing violently inside you. “i’m gonna cum-” he grunts, his arm’s grip around your throat tightening, his dick pulsing hot and thick, teetering on the brink.

and you feel it. the hard, rhythmic twitching, the way he swells even bigger inside your wrecked cunt. “cum inside me! please lu…” you sob, voice a hoarse, pleading wail.

your nails claw at the mattress, legs shaking uncontrollably, a high pitched whine escaping as the overstimulation makes your whole body quake. his breath snags, a choked sound ripping from him as he pounds you with frantic, bone rattling thrusts, right on the edge of shattering.

and then you feel it. his hips jam tight against your ass, and his cock pulses hard, flooding your wrecked cunt with a thick, blistering rush of cum. the heat crashes into you, raw and overpowering, his seed pumping in heavy, forceful jets, stuffing you so full it presses against your walls, a surge that makes your pussy clamp down and milk every last drop from him.

he whimpers, his thrusts stuttering to a stop as the final drops empty into you, his body quaking against yours. before you can catch your breath, his shaky hands fumble to your hips, yanking your soaked panties back into place with a hurried, sloppy pull.

the fabric snaps against your skin, locking his cum inside, and almost instantly, you feel the hot, sticky load seeping out, leaking past your swollen, aching lips, soaking the crotch of your underwear in a thick, dripping mess that clings to your thighs. you whimper softly, overwhelmed, your cunt still spasming from the intensity, reeling from the fullness and the filthy, oozing aftermath.

panting heavily, you drag yourself forward on trembling limbs, crawling under the covers and sinking into the soft refuge of the blankets. the bed dips as he follows, slipping in beside you, his warm, sweaty body brushing against yours. you roll over to face him, your breath still uneven, and his arms immediately open, pulling you in tight.

he wraps himself around you, chest pressed to yours, one hand cradling the back of your head as he peppers your forehead with soft, lingering kisses, his lips trembling slightly. his other arm snakes around your waist, holding you like you're his lifeline, his legs tangling with yours in a clumsy, needy knot.

he’s all soft now, an obvious shift from the wild frenzy of before, his face nuzzling into your hair as he lets out a quiet, shaky whimper. “how are you?” he murmurs, voice small and fragile, laced with a tender worry as he pulls back just enough to search your eyes, his own wide and glistening, like a nervous pup checking for approval. he presses his forehead to yours, still clinging tight, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

you catch your breath, a faint smile tugging at your lips as you nod. “i feel great.” you say, voice soft but steady, your hand resting against his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart.

“that was… intense. you’re wild, you know that?” your tone lightens, teasing, and he blushes hard, ducking his head with a sheepish grin.

“i-i didn’t know it’d be that good…” he stutters, voice barely above a whisper, his fingers tracing shy circles on your back. “i just… i wanted to make you feel good. was it… was i okay?” his eyes flick up, hopeful and uncertain, and you can’t help but giggle, the sound bubbling up soft and warm.

“not bad for a virgin.” you tease, smirking as his blush deepens, spreading across his cheeks like wildfire. he whines, burying his face in the crook of your neck to hide, but you feel the little laugh he lets out, muffled against your skin.

“stop…” he mumbles, half embarrassed, half playful, his arms tightening around you as he nuzzles closer. “i just… read a lot, i guess. wanted to get it right.” his voice softens, earnest now, and he peeks up at you, a shy smile breaking through.

"you're amazing, though. i still can't believe that just happened." he kisses your forehead again, slow and sweet, settling into you with a contented sigh, like a clingy, soft baby who's finally found his safe place.

he pulls back slightly, eyes shining, and whispers, “i love you.” voice steady yet raw.

your heart leaps, a wild surge of joy flooding you, and you grin, breathless. “i love you too.”

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

I SPENT TWO WEEKS WRITING THIS SO U ALL BETTER GOBBLE IT UP NICE AND GOOD.

oh my god HAWTTTT

remember who you belong to

luigi mangione x reader

SUMMARY: part two to a short imagine i made, which you can read here. luigi and you had finally broken up after putting up with his toxic behaviors for quite some time. your friends egged you on to posting a tiktok about it, which you obliged to. not thinking he’d even see it, he’s about to make you regret ever hitting upload on such a post.

WARNINGS: dubcon, cnc (?), toxic!luigi, dark!luigi, p in v, slight stalking?, alcohol

the strobe lights pouring from every each direction mixed with the amount of alcohol in your system was definitely not in your favor at the moment.

you were surrounded by your friends, cranberry-vodka in hand, drunkenly swaying to the loud club music. this was your... seventh shot of the night? or was it eight? you couldn't remember.

you also didn't necessarily want to remember, so you continued on sipping bits of your sour-tasting beverage. you didn't care if one more sip is what threw you over the edge into the territory of a blackout mess.

"y/n!" your friend, sophia, shouts your name through the loud thumping of music. "look over there." she cranes your neck to the bar, where a tall, light-haired man stands. his eyes lock onto yours, and you feel your face flush as you look back towards sophia.

"what about him?" you slur, resting your hand on her shoulder for some balance. you were extremely drunk, yet still drinking.

"he's been eye-fucking you all night long, we've been watching," sophia shouts, nudging you to separate from the group. "we couldn't tell who he's been staring at, but it's been you. the entire night!" she exclaims.

"if he's so interested, he can make a move on me." you give her a partial lie. you didn't want to explain how your heart was still in the hands of an italian boy, who used them to crush and destroy it.

"uhh, y/n..." sophia's face contorts with confusion as her eyes look past you.

"and besides, i don't need anyone, soph. i am doing just fine on my ow-"

your voice cuts out just as you feel a light tap on your shoulder. turning on your heels, you are met face-to-face with the man from the bar.

"good luck!" sophia blurts in your ear before darting off to the rest of your friend group.

"what's your name?" the mysterious man grinned down at you, towering over you quite a bit. he wore jeans and a black and white flannel, and had a very pretty smile.

"y/n!" you yell through the noisy music, stood on your tip-toes so he can hear.

"i'm isaiah," he pauses, eyeing you up and down. "do you wanna go upstairs to the lounge? much quieter!" his voice is deep yet loud.

"fuck it," you mumble to yourself under your breath. "why not?" you give the man a small smile.

he turns around, sly grin still spread across his face, as you turn back to see your entire friend group watching the two of you like hawks. they all clap and applaud, cheering you onto this mysterious, but attractive, new man. you roll your eyes playfully at them before following isaiah close behind.

he pushes through a sea of drunken college students, looking back every so often to make sure you're still there.

"i'm gonna hold onto you!" you shout, grabbing a fistful of his flannel as you continued to follow him.

"good idea, wouldn't wanna lose the company of such a pretty girl."

you giggle at him, finally following him up the stairs. once you both arrive at the top, the scenery is much different. it's still a bit loud, but now you can actually hear yourself think. he makes his way towards the bar, sliding a chair out for you, then himself.

a half an hour passes, and you are wasted. you and isaiah spend the time talking, laughing, just casually getting to know each other while sipping drinks. that is until he found his hand rested upon your inner thigh, squeezing you lightly. it sent jolts of electricity to your stomach, and you were too drunk to decide if you liked it or not. you certainly did, but you also certainly only felt nothing but a friendship with this man.

a hookup couldn't hurt, right?

you're leaned back in the bar stool, laughing a little too loud at something isaiah said, when you see him.

a figure dressed in all black is stood just across the bar from you, far away enough that you can't see his facial expression clearly, but you know who it is.

it's your ex-boyfriend, luigi mangione.

his arms are folded neatly against his chest, and he's watching. just watching you, a scowl present on his hollowed face.

your laugh hitches in the back of your throat, blood running cold; your somber expression leaves isaiah laughing by his lonesome.

"i- uh," your voice is small as you look away from those beading eyes, turning your attention back to isaiah. "i've got to go. it was really nice meeting you." you spoke hurriedly, gathering your things and pushing yourself from the bar chair.

"woah woah woah," isaiah spoke, his hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging gently. "did i say something wrong?"

"no—" the corners of your lips tightened into a forced smile. you look back at the spot luigi was once stood, starring at you— but he's gone. there's nobody there. "here, take this. maybe i'll see you around." you sloshed your words rapidly.

you lazily scribble your number on a half-soaked napkin, pushing it towards the man before jerking away at his grasp. he lets you go without putting up anymore of a fight, and you're left stumbling around trying to find the exit.

you could feel your heart fervid in your chest; what the fuck was he doing here? luigi was always one to go out for a few drinks, but he'd never choose to go to a place like this. overcome with turmoil, you finally found the entrance to the stairs. you begin breathing heavy, a panic-attack forcing its way into your system. all you wanted to do was find your way back to your friends to let them know you all needed to leave urgently.

walking— no, more like staggering down the dimly-lit staircase, you're able to contain your heavy panting as you successfully escaped the one who ruined you.

you're about to turn the corner to enter the main floor, where you can hear screams and chants of whatever club-life song is playing.

until you don't.

until, a hand covers your mouth and slams you against the cold, concreate wall of the place.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

it's luigi, and he stares down at you with intense indignation; he gazes at you as if you had just murdered his entire bloodline. deep brown eyes piercing your own, if looks could kill, you'd be a dead woman.

"mmphm," you mumble against his hand, eyes glazed with terror. he drops the hand, but his body is still pressed tightly against your own. "i'm moving on." your voice shakes.

"posting that little tiktok knowing i'd see it, getting all of your friends to rally for you, it's pathetic."

you don't know what comes over you; maybe it's the alcohol or the tumultuous setting, but you are sure filled with rage at the comment. "me, pathetic? look at you, i mean, did you follow me here?" your voice holds more power this time, emphasizing every word to potentially make him feel insane.

to your adversity, it didn't work. or maybe it did, and his reaction was how he camouflaged it.

"don't act stupid, you knew i'd come looking for you. i've been looking for you, sweetheart." his voice booms through the hallway you both are in, completely and utterly alone.

"you're crazy, lu!" you cry over the music, and without warning, you shove him backwards with you're entire force. luigi falters back, catching himself as you turn on your heel to leave. maybe luigi could watch you have the time of your life from a distance.

a hands-reach away from the door, two strong hands pull you backwards, spinning you around shockingly gracefully for how inebriated you are.

he had an insatiable hunger in his eyes this time, holding you in front of him by your shoulders. it wasn't enough to hurt you, but you knew if you tried to move, it would be.

"you wanna see fuckin' crazy?" luigi explodes, tilting his head. "i'll show you crazy." the darkness in his expression sparks something within your chest, and you can't tell if it's terror or euphoria. luigi yanks you behind him, giving you no choice but to follow sheepishly. you can barely walk properly as he lunges for the exit, pushing through the huge crowd of sweaty club-goers.

"luigi! what the fuck are you doing?" you yell over the music, exasperated. he doesn't turn to answer you, only pulls you behind him with much more drive. "my friends!"

finally outside the nightclub, luigi turns to face you, releasing his grip on you. it's like he knew you weren't going to try and escape him.

"good thing we'll have a long enough car ride that you can text them and let them know you went home with whateverthefuckhisnamewas." luigi seethes, furrowing his eyebrows down at you.

"you fucked up!" you scream back at the man in bewilderment. "and now i can't move on? fuck you."

"oh yeah?" he taunts, interlocking his hand with yours and dragging you around the corner of the joint, pinching you between him and the cold wall. much like he did inside, except this time you were outside in an alley-way. "you're gonna want to watch how you talk to me, baby."

excitement, no— you're not sure what it is, but the feeling you have is unlike anything you've ever felt before.

"or what?" you sloshed back at the man, helpless beneath his grip. you wanted things to be different, yet you always found yourself drunk on his persuasion. and at the moment, also drunk with the extensive amount of shots you had taken earlier.

"you're about to find out." luigi spoke solemnly, his voice much more tranquil now that he's got you right where he wants you. 

you open your lips to respond, until luigi's frivolous hands find their way beneath the tight, black mini-skirt you had on. a small gasp escapes from you, eyes widened at the man. he keeps the tiny piece of clothing on, yet eagerly pushes your underwear to the side, his hand sliding against your core. 

this provokes a reaction from you; you try, not very hard, to push his hand away, but to no avail, luigi advances. 

"luigi-- someone's gonna see-" 

"yeah? maybe like that fucker trying to get with my girl?" he hisses, impatiently finding your clit. he uses his long, calloused middle finger to rub circles around your sweet spot, eliciting a moan to escape from your throat. “i hope he sees.”

"i'm not your girl!" you cry out, slowly succumbing to how good his finger feels working on you. it was pathetic; since he knew every exact spot that electrified you, you melted right underneath him. the way your body grinds against his finger defies the harsh words you speak to him. 

luigi removes his touch from you're core, leaving you trembling. "aww," he coos as you look down at your feet, clearly ashamed. "ah, ah." he shakes his head in disapproval as he takes your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, forcing you to look up at him. "tell me you want me to stop." 

nothing. you said... nothing. you blinked up at him innocently, eyes wide as saucers. you take your bottom lip between your teeth and he grins cockily, poking the side of his cheek with his tongue. 

he leans in, his mouth pressed against your ear. "that's what i thought," he growls at you, nipping at the tip of your earlobe with his teeth. it sends shivers down your spine as he plants wet, sloppy kisses down the side of your neck. "come on sweet girl, come home." 

again, you say nothing. luigi appears happy to take this as an invitation to literally sweep you off your feet, bridal style. the motion makes you quite dizzy, making the only thing you're able to focus on is his face. 

"i knew you'd be such a good girl, my bellissima. look at you." he smirked down at you before placing you in the passenger seat of his car, which was parked right out front. it was almost like this was his plan the entire time. 

it all hit you like a truck; you were aware, but not to the fullest extent. beaming car lights flying by you on the busy road all suddenly swirled into a blurry mess. you crane your neck towards the driver seat, an action that costs you the rest of your vision. 

you needed to get it together, to stand up for yourself and march out of this car, but the alcohol had it's claws sunken deep into you. or maybe, it was luigi, as he smoothly slides into the driver seat and clicks your seatbelt over you, then his over himself. 

"l-let me go," your voice quivers, and you're wondering how angry luigi would be if you potentially threw up in his car. 

"you're free to go, pretty girl." 

you look at him, then the sidewalk, busting with drunken and disorderly college students everywhere. you glare at him before sinking down into the passenger seat of the car you knew all too well, eyes fluttering shut. 

good thing you didn't see the smirk apparent on luigi's face as he shifted his car into drive, taking off hurriedly. 

you drifted in and out of consciousness, taking precise notice to every time luigi's hand travels to your upper thigh and squeezes softly. it's truly the only thing keeping you from completely passing out in this man's car, a soft whimper escaping you every time he hits a bump and brushes your heat with his fingers.

after a short drive, you don't exactly remember going inside. you don't remember leaning on luigi for balance, allowing him to escort you to his college apartment, up the stairs and to the right. you don't remember allowing luigi to help you out of your shoes, your socks, and certainly not your skirt. 

at least, that's the story your friends were going to hear after tonight.

"the second i saw you in this," luigi hissed under his breath, his hands roaming the entirety of your body, gripping at the fabric of your skirt. "i knew i was going to be the one taking it off of you tonight, not anybody else." 

you lied sprawled on your back on luigi's bed, letting him touch all over without putting up a fight. as much as you wanted to, it felt so good. 

"luigi," your voice was frail. "stop, please." you begged, finally mustering some strength to roll out of his grasp and to the edge of his bed.

"uh uh," he shook his head, quick to hover over you. your eyes widened as he leaned in, his warm, pink lips only inches away from yours. he runs his tongue over your bottom lip before taking it into his own mouth, biting down on you softly as if he was claiming you. "you knew i'd come for you, don't play stupid now." 

"we shouldn't, lu," you whine, his lips only persuading you to stay. this time, luigi fully interlocks his lips onto yours, moving at an achingly slow pace. he kisses you so deep, with so much passion, you can't help but dip your tongue into his mouth, fighting against his before hesitantly pulling back. "we're not together anymore." 

"oh, yeah? we're not?" he challenges, licking his lips as if it was an attempt to taste you again. in seconds, luigi's got your skirt and underwear pooled at your ankles, leaving you with just your crop top on. without warning, luigi begins sucking and kissing on the inside of your thighs. "come on baby, i just wanna talk." he mumbles against your skin, tickling you.

you gasp, the motion sending quivers throughout your core. he kisses all the way up to your heat just before abruptly pulling back, leaving his emptiness cold. 

it doesn't take long for him to eagerly put his lips back onto yours, his hands tracing the designs on your shirt. 

that is, until he takes both of his hands, grips the fabric at the top of your shirt, and completely tears it in two, tossing it to the floor. 

"hey!" you raise your voice, sitting upwards and now feeling much more vulnerable with zero clothes on.

"always fuckin' hated that top," luigi growled, ignoring your annoyance. he rests his hand on your stomach, pushing you back so you're lying down again, underneath him. "hated seeing you go out in that..." he trailed, his hands making their way back down to your core. 

"we- we can't do this!" you plead, leading luigi to insert two of his fingers inside of you. your mouth gaped open, and you let out a deep breath as you felt the entirety of his fingers reach deep inside of you. 

"shhh," he purred, his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly pushed his middle finger and pointer finger in and out of you. "how wet you are for me says otherwise, you little slut." his voice is in your ear now, fingers picking up the speed as you squirm beneath him. every so often, he'd curl them upwards, reaching a sweet spot that almost had you screaming his name. “is that guy at the bar gonna make you feel like this, huh?”

"fuuuck," you drag out breathlessly; the overwhelming pleasure of his large fingers is hard to be upset with. “n-no… he’s not, lu.”

“that’s what i thought.” his tone is dark. his motions of in-and-out turn rapid, his hand becoming slick with you. "you are such a little fuckin' slut for me," luigi says arrogantly, and you move your hips to be in-synch with the movement of his fingers. "my little play-toy, all mine." 

"god lu-" your voice hitches for a second. "god, i- fuck you!" you try and hold your ground beneath him, but let's face it, at this point it's worthless. 

"aww, fuck me? your wish is my command." luigi smiles smugly before ridding himself of his shirt, sweatpants, and underwear, his large member springing out of them avidly. he spends no time flipping you onto your stomach, and grabbing you by your hips so they're arched in the air, against him. "god, love seeing you like this, y/n. there's nothing you can do to get away from me, from us." 

luigi aligns his dick perfectly with your slit, dripping wet from his actions previously. he teases you by running the length of himself against your heat before plunging into your core, earning loud gasps from the both of you. 

"ow— fuck!" you scream as his tip barely hits your cervix. he stays deep inside of you, relishing in you, for a second before ramming into you again. "l-lu, it- hurts." you whimper, causing him to grab a fistful of your hair and lean into your ear.

"and i don't care," he snarls, pumping in and out of you steadily. "you're gonna take this dick with no complaints, yeah?" the way he's stretching you feels otherworldly, pressure building within your lower stomach. 

"who's gonna fuck you like this, baby? huh?" luigi taunts, using his other free hand to wrap around your neck. he squeezes and you see black spots, wailing at every spot luigi manages to find inside of you. it sends bliss through your entire being with every pump he takes, every time he manages to hit your cervix. the entire room is filled with the smack of his skin hitting yours and the two of you panting, yearning and aching for a climax.

"fucking answer me." he lets go of your throat, expecting a response. he juts into you deep, lingering for a few seconds.

"n-no one but you." you stutter, choking on built-up spit in the back of your throat. luigi wraps his hand back around your neck, pulling on your hair, hard. 

"mhm, good girl." he praises, and you let yourself become lost in pleasure.

luigi fucks into you like you're the last two people on earth, like he's never going to see you again. your world spins, feeling yourself closer and closer to the edge of what luigi has started. 

"i'm so close— lu." you're practically pleading at this point. 

"not yet, pretty." luigi's fast-paced thrusts stop abruptly. he stops, only to flip you over once again, now facing him. "gonna cum all over you, i want you to watch." 

he's quick to bury himself inside of you again, a deep guttural moan spilling from the man's mouth as he does so. "so good, y/n, how the fuck do you always feel so good?" he grins down at you, beads of sweat running along his forehead as his fast-pace returns. 

"mmm," luigi moans before taking his thumb to your cheek, embracing you. that is, until he tugs at your bottom lip with it and you oblige, opening your mouth. he slips his thumb onto your tongue, and you swirl it around before closing your lips and sucking. "take it baby, take it just like that." he continued. 

it slowly was becoming far too much for you to handle. the pressure building within your lower stomach started to feel like an itch you needed to scratch, a finish line you needed to chase. with every time luigi's dick hit deep inside, you began to feel yourself coming completely undone beneath the man. 

"that's it baby, cum for me, remember who you belong to." 

"i'm gonna— fuck!" you screamed. he knew you so well. how your mannerisms changed just as you were about to finish; your moans got louder and your hips bucked themselves into luigi, like you needed more of him. 

your lower body began to shake dementedly, that feeling in your stomach exploded and reached every other portion of your body, from the tip of your toes to the top of your head. 

as if on cue, luigi's moans picked up as well. his breathing became rapid-- until it hitched completely and he pulled his length out of you, glistening white cum spilling onto your arched stomach. you gasped at the sight, sending you over the edge. your body twitched with glee, your slit left throbbing. 

"fuck." luigi hissed, using his hand to jerk the remaining white liquid from himself and onto you. 

breathing heavy, luigi used what seem to be his last bit of strength to plant a sweet, gentle kiss on your forehead before plopping down next to you on his back.

"let's get you cleaned u-" 

turning his head to the side, you were completely passed out now. on your back, breathing softly as the alcohol took you from cohesion to restful sleep.

not that you were aware, but luigi quietly cleaned you up. he slipped one of his t-shirts over you, careful not to wake you. you looked so peaceful, especially after recent events. 

"sweet dreams, bellissima," luigi cooed, stroking your hair as he draped an arm around you. "we'll talk in the morning." he said to nobody.

😣😣😣😣 would love to be kneeling between his thighs

Luigi crumbs 2024...

They say lip color is tip color babyyy

Oh don’t remind me or I’ll start thinking