Good Morning

legal team part two luigi mangione x reader 18+

part one

summary you work on his legal team. sometimes you meet one on one.

warnings p in v sex, rpf smut, unedited

you stay near the courtroom doors, the file gripped tight in your hands. the buzz of conversation, footsteps, a flickering camera light down the hall. none of it cuts through the weight of your own quiet. you haven't looked at sofia since you arrived. you haven't looked at karen either. you couldn't possibly.

karen doesn’t lift her eyes when she speaks, just flips the file closed with a soft, deliberate snap. her voice is even—measured, restrained—but there’s an unfamiliar edge to it.

"you forgot the tie."

you bite your tongue. "oh,” you say as both their eyes land on you. “he didn't like it."

“luigi,” you cried out, your fingers on the back of his head tightening on his hair, curling your fingers into a fist. between kisses, he busied himself with the task of bruising the soft skin of your neck.

you flinched, breathless. “the guards—”

you didn’t know when things shifted. or how. it started with one kiss—soft, teasing, gentle. but then there was another. and another. and suddenly his hands were everywhere—your waist, your throat, under your blouse like he’d been waiting his whole life. and you let him.

you let him.

now heat is rushing under your skin, hands on the wall, lips swollen, pulse racing, and your client’s name still hot in your mouth. you don’t know what the hell this is, what it means, how to undo it. all you know is you can’t take it back.

you felt so stuffed, going completely dumb on his cock as he hammered his cock into your wet pussy, his movements haltering for a moment of mercy as he came close to whisper, his lips grazing your ear.

“tell me to stop,” luigi said, voice strained with need. “tell me to stop, and we’ll both walk away. pretend this never happened. pretend i haven’t been jacking off to you in the showers since we’ve met.”

sofia leans back, arms crossed, a teasing lilt in her voice. “didn’t frown once. miracle.”

her eyes, big and sweet, turn to you. she smiles. but you can’t quiet the growing sense of paranoia. were they onto you already? were you one meeting away from losing your entire career? you tell yourself it was adrenaline. a slip. but your skin still burns where he touched you.

you force yourself to be neutral. nodding silently in agreement, eyes fixated on the floor, keeping the image of you two tangled together in the farthest corner of your mind.

karen’s voice comes next. "i take it he had a good morning."

“luigi—! gentle, please—gentle—“ you squealed, your chest rising and falling as he did the exact opposite. the brunette boy reached around, giving your clit a soft pinch, you cried out when he raise his hand to give multiple slaps to your sticky folds, your thighs instinctively shutting around his hand.

“can’t take it?” luigi said, almost entertained.

you couldn’t speak, your breaths coming out in shaky huffs as luigi rubbed you into a mind numbing orgasm. “please—” you heaved, your eyes shutting tightly, “luigi—”

“you can take it, baby.”

out of nowhere, a silk fabric wrapped against your whiny mouth as he pulled you back, gentle but demanding.

“cause i’m gonna make sure you do.”

goddamnit.

“that much is evident,” sofia says, flipping a page. “no unnecessary sarcasm. no spiraling. no useless tangents. he was completely unlike himself, and i completely appreciate it.”

you can feel the heat rising in your face, the weight of what’s unsaid pressing down on your shoulders. karen sets the file on the table, thumb tapping lightly against the spine.

“y/n,” karen says. you chew the inside of your cheek as you raise your gaze from off the hardwood floor.

the brunette woman adjusts the clasp on her binder, then glances up at you without lifting her head. “i’m not in the business of personal affairs,” karen says plainly, tone crisp. “but i am in the business of outcomes. and today, he looked like someone the jury might actually root for.”

your gasps and squeals of pleasure were muffled behind his silk green tie, eyes threatening to roll back every time his tip slammed into your g-spot or cervix.

“luigi—please!” you squealed—loud, desperate, and so completely unlike yourself. your back arching now, pushing yourself against him even more, practically molding your bodies into one.

he let out a low growl, biting your ear lobe.

“you wanna cum baby?”

you whimper in response. you’re powerless underneath him. the slap of his hips against yours were bound to bruise. he tugged you back by the makeshift gag in your mouth and it was hard to make sense of anything.

luigi frustrated himself with how quickly he feels like he needs to come. his balls were pinched tight, aching for release but he can’t stop, he needs to make it right, make it perfect.

he threw the gag off of you. “i need to hear you,” he said, so sure. “tell me what you need.”

“cum,” you say, breathless. “i need you to cum inside of me.”

pure bliss stormed over you. and luigi couldn’t keep his head on straight—he was equally as twisted, as horny, as close—as he watched your orgasm course through your body, the coil in the pit of your stomach snapping in, your eyebrows knit together, the added mess between your thighs only making his hips stutter with his own climax painting your walls.

“luigi—!” you moaned in his ear, his thumb slipping between your lips for you to bite down on while he twitched and convulsed inside of you

"so fuckin' gorgeous stuffed full of my cum," luigi groaned, his cock smearing the sticky substance all over your cunt.

you mewled in response. everything was so sore, so sensitive.

“hmm, 'm sorry for making such a mess on your pretty pussy, sweetheart,” luigi said, honey-sweet. “lemme clean it up, yeah?"

you blushed in response when he dropped to his knees, throwing your creamy thighs over his broad shoulders, to put his mouth onto your sex. you almost cry at the feeling, his tongue playing between your folds to lap up his own mess. he cleans you up thoroughly, only to turn you out again right after, his spit soaking your cunt as he readies you for another round.

“we have to go,” you reminded him, breathing.

“we’re already late.” luigi argues, pulling you back onto him. you gasp at the sensation. the sounds of skin slapping re-enters the room, along with your lewd moans. you try to bite your lip. to quell some of the chaos.

“let ‘em hear it,” he growls. “let those little bastards outside hear what i do to you.”

“we’re entering a sensitive window in the trial,” karen continues. “every move is watched. demeanor, behavior, relationships—all of it. if he’s calmer, that helps us. if he’s clear-headed, that helps us. what doesn’t help is inconsistency. emotional volatility. or blurred lines.”

you finally meet her eyes. there’s nothing friendly in her expression. but there is something protective. she cares about luigi—in the only way someone like karen knows how: by keeping him alive in a courtroom.

“whatever rapport you’ve built with him, maintain it,” she says. rather, orders. “if your presence keeps him focused, then i expect you to show up. but this is not sentimental work. it’s survival. and any misstep becomes ammunition.”

“i understand,” you say, quietly.

"good,” karen hums. "because we all have a job in there. mine is to make sure he walks out of this building with his life. yours is to make sure nothing gets in the way of that."

you nod in agreement, and that settles it.

the next day, you’re instructed to report to the jailhouse an hour earlier than usual. no clear reason is given—when you ask sofia, she just shrugs and says mornings are better for morale. you’re not sure if she’s joking. but you’re sure she’s got a smile out of this, considering she was nowhere to be found.

they’ve already escorted him into the prep room before you’ve begun. karen’s looked at you once. it’s worse than awkward. it feels like a punishment.

luigi’s sitting at the table. composed. his tan jacket is buttoned up neatly, sleeves rolled with intent this time, not indifference. his hair’s damp at the sides, like he didn’t bother to towel it dry—styled just enough to suggest he’d cared, then thought better of it. he looks up—and those cinnamon eyes, sharp and unreadable, catch on yours with something you can’t name. he doesn’t smile, not really, but something in him lifts. lingers.

“early start,” he says, voice tender. agreeable.

you set the folder down, careful not to look directly at him or think about the event that transpired in this very room. you feel him watching you anyway.

“actually,” karen says, adjusting her blazer. “i need to place a call to the clerk’s office—there’s been a notice about a potential docket adjustment, and i want to ensure we’re aligned before pretrial.”

you glance back at her, unsure how to move, but she’s already halfway to the door.

“take your time,” luigi calls after her.

you shoot him a look.

the door clicks.

masterlist / talk to me

weak for you

summary: after you send luigi a soapy titty pic, he decides to jerk off to it.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

luigi’s phone buzzes against the nightstand, the soft vibration cutting through the heavy silence of his hotel room. he barely hesitates before reaching for it, already hoping it’s from you.

and sure enough, your name glows on the screen, followed by a message that makes his heart ache in the best and worst way.

you: i miss u :(( can’t wait for u to come home tomorrow ❤️

he misses you too. hes been away from you for about a week now, away on a work trip that he didn’t even want to go on in the first place, all shacked up in a shitty, overpriced hotel room bed. it’s too cold without you. too empty. too unfamiliar. he’s used to your warmth, the way you curl into his chest, the way you fit so perfectly against him. now, when he reaches out at night, all he can find is cold sheets and silence. and he hates it. thank god he’s able to come home to you sooner rather than later.

his fingers move quickly as he types back.

luigi: miss you too, can’t wait to see you tomorrow baby

luigi: what are you doing right now? :)

a few seconds pass before another buzz.

you: just got out of the shower :) <3

he shifts uncomfortably in bed, running a hand down his face as his mind betrays him. the thought of you, fresh out of the shower, skin warm and dewy, hair damp as you wrap your warm body in a towel sticks in his head like a dream he can’t shake.

he’s suddenly hyper aware of just how how hard his cock is getting, shielded underneath his boxers. he sucks in a sharp breath, forcing himself to think, to type out a response, but it’s impossible when all he can focus on is thought of you, all naked and beautiful.

luigi: oh yeah? can i see? ;)

just a few minutes later…

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

you’re an evil, evil woman.

that’s the first thought that crosses luigi’s mind as he stares at his phone screen, jaw slack, fingers frozen over the keyboard like his brain just turned to mush.

you were beautiful, that much he knew. but in the photo you just sent him? he doesn’t know the right word to adequately describe just how you look now.

there you were, your breasts smothered in delicate, frothy trails of soap, pearlescent in the dim bathroom light. remnants of warm water made everything look impossibly soft, almost unreal.

hes always loved your breasts, sometimes he thinks that the universe made them just for him. they’re soft, and fit perfectly in his hands. they make perfect pillows too. if luigi could choose when he was to die, he’d choose to die wrapped up in your arms, head burrowed against your breasts like a baby, while you caressed his curls, lulling him.

but the more he stares at the picture you sent him, the more he realises that he can’t ignore the throbbing problem in his pants.

he can’t help it, he reaches down and frees himself from his boxers, feeling the cold air of the hotel room pierce against him, and begins to stroke himself slowly while staring at the picture of you on his phone.

he lets out a soft whimper and leans his head back against the pillow, holding the picture up in the air. his mind begins to exhibit various scenarios to him, one being laying next to you in bed, his head resting against your chest, his mouth feeding from your breast while you stroke his cock with one hand, while threading your fingers through his hair with the other.

he wishes it was your hand stroking him instead of his own.

his mind also shows him bending you over the kitchen table and absolutely wrecking you, dominating you. he has your hair in a makeshift ponytail, and he’s rutting his hips into you so desperately while you scream and beg for more. his free hand repeatedly lands harshly on your ass, leaving behind scarlet marks and making it sting.

luigi has always loved fucking you from behind.

he strokes his cock faster, it now being red from the over exertion.

“feels so good baby, yeah…” he whimpers, letting out a breathy moan as the intense burning in his stomach slowly begins to get bigger, more intense.

then, he gets an idea.

he’s still holding his phone with his left hand, so he presses the X button on the top right corner of the photo you sent, and taps the microphone to record a voice message, all whilst still fucking himself with his free hand.

he lets loose. all you’ll hear when you receive it will be the obscene sounds of profanities, moans, and whimpers. but he doesn’t care, he wants you to hear how weak he is for you.

he hits send.

“shit.” he moans, his cock tingling, the coil in his stomach so close to snapping. he stares intently at his phone, awaiting a response from you as he fucks himself all the way to the edge.

letting out a final noise of satisfaction, his toes curl and he finally hits his climax, spilling hot white ribbons of his seed all over himself as he whimpers your name like a prayer.

he’s coming down from his high, thinking that hes finally satisfied, until three dots pop up on his phone screen. snapping him back to reality.

you’re typing. that means you’ve listened to what he sent you. you’ve heard him.

his phone buzzes twice, followed by your two messages flashing on the screen.

you: i love you baby

you: facetime me now ;)

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

this is so fucking rushed… and it’s the first time i’ve ever written anything smutty too omg forgive me

previous work

FAWKKKK I NEED PART 2 RIGHT NEOOOWW

ITS OUTTTTTT GO READDD!!!!!

Tumblr

Post by @luigisbambinaaa · 3 images

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 0 · Soft Spot Pt. 2 ~ · summary: spring break trip to cabo, luigi gets wiped out, and you’re sent to help him ;) content warni

THE GODDAMN BEARD ARE YOU KIDDING ME SOMEONE HOLD MY HAND PLEASE

credit to prosperluigi on twitter

i hope today is good to lulu, i really hope he’s doing well <3 thinking about him today

bliss

warnings: none just fluff :)

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you always tease your boyfriend for being a heavy sleeper. honestly, the world could be ending, and he’d still be snoring his little head off. he always blushes and denies it, but you’ve seen the proof. especially this morning.

you hear your alarm that you set last night blaring as you wake from your slumber, feeling the warmth of the bed, of the boy in your arms who’s dead to the world, who has his face nestled between your breasts like they’re his personal pillow.

“lu…” you utter his name softly, while trying to move. “i have to get up and get ready for work, and so do you. you gotta go to work too.”

he doesn’t budge. not even a little. you just hear a sleepy sigh come out of him as he burrows further into you like a stubborn cat.

“lu,” you try again, shaking his shoulder gently. still nothing. how he’s able to sleep through your alarm blaring as loud as a siren you will never understand.

you huff, resorting to poking his cheek. “come on, baby, wake up.”

finally, you gently lift up his head and press a kiss to both of his cheeks, showing his beauty marks some love, then…

“i’m up, i’m up,” he mumbles groggily, cracking one eye open.

you roll your eyes, but the fond smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “and you always love to tell me that you aren’t a heavy sleeper.”

he groans dramatically, planting kisses onto your breasts. “shut up…” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

you smile wider. he’s always such a soft baby in the mornings.

“anyway,” you giggle, slipping your fingers into his rowdy curls and giving them a light tug. “we need to shower.”

he sighs, reluctant, his head now buried in the crook of your neck. “too early…” he murmurs, his voice still sleepy.

“you say that every morning,” you tease, nudging him. “come on, we both have jobs to get to. besides, you smell like sleep and laziness.”

“meannnnnn!” he whines, finally letting you go and stretching with a yawn. you take the opportunity to grab your phone and finally put an end to your deafening alarm.

“thank you,” you coo, giving the phone a triumphant glare before tossing it aside.

luigi groans again but sits up, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “do we have toooo?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep. his eyes are half open, and your heart melts as you take in just how much he resembles an innocent little boy getting dragged out of bed on a weekend.

“yes we have to,” you smile as you get out of bed to stand up and stretch. “i told you baby, we both have to go to work, otherwise we’ll both be poor!” you giggle again, taking his hand to remove him from the comfort of the blankets.

he sighs, but eventually, follows you toward the bathroom. he stumbles behind you, clinging to your hand as if he might fall back into bed if you let go.

you enter the bathroom, flicking on the light as he exhales, still clinging to you. “too bright…” he mutters, squinting.

you let go of his hand and pull your underwear, the only piece of clothing you wore to bed last night, off. it always got too warm in your room at night, so underwear was the only thing you’d wear to sleep. luigi never minded though, it meant that he could just snuggle his face into your breasts like a baby.

“now come on,” you nudge him playfully. “strip!”

he sluggishly hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his calvin kleins. with a tired huff, he pulls them down, stepping out of them clumsily, still half asleep. you can’t help but smile as he wobbles slightly, blinking against the bathroom light. he’s just so cute.

even when he’s in this state, he’s beautiful. you’ve always loved his body. yes you love it in a sexual way, but also in a way that makes your heart feel content. the way his toned abs glisten in the bathroom lighting, the subtle definition along his waist, the faint marks from where he’s stretched and grown. he’s warm and familiar, the kind of person who feels like home even when he’s doing something as simple as standing there, blinking sleepily at you.

you’re snapped back to reality when you hear him ask you a question, his voice not sounding sleepy anymore, but rather shy.

“why are you staring at me?”

you blink, caught, but you don’t deny it. instead you step forward, softly running a hand down his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “i just love looking at you.” you admit.

luigi blinks at you for a second before a slow, lopsided smirk tugs at his lips. the shyness gone, his eyes now shimmering with something smug. “yeah?” he hums, tilting his head. “can’t get enough of me, huh?”

you roll your eyes and plant a kiss on his cheek, before pulling your hand away from his chest and heading towards the shower. “don’t let it get to your head now!” you tease, though the fondness in your voice betrays you.

he chuckles, standing up a little straighter, clearly enjoying the attention. “too late.”

just as you step into the shower, you feel his hand smack your bare ass, making you yelp.

“luuuuu!” you squeal, and you whirl around to find him grinning, looking far too pleased with himself.

“sorry,” he hums, not looking sorry at all. “saw the opportunity right in front of me and i just had to take it. especially when you’re right in front of me looking like that.”

you narrow your eyes at him, but with the way your boyfriend is rubbing the sleep crust from his tear ducts, looking all adorable, makes it impossible for you to be angry at him. not that you are angry, if anything you love it. you love the way that even though he’s half asleep, he’s still playful. you love the way that he feels as though he can touch any part of your body without hesitation.

shaking your head, you turn on the shower and grab his wrist, tugging him under the water. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet you love me,” he teases, pressing a wet kisses to your forehead. “you love me sooo much.”

you try to feign nonchalance, but you can’t help but smile. “i do.”

the warm water flows over both of you, the steam rising around you, creating a soft, peaceful haze. luigi’s grin fades into a relaxed smile as you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his damp chest.

he lets out a happy huff, one hand gently running through your hair as he holds you close.

“this is nice,” he murmurs, placing kisses into your now wet hair. “mornings like this… make getting up early almost worth it.”

you smile against him, savoring the simple comfort of being wrapped up in his embrace. “see? waking up early isn’t all bad!” you tease.

he chuckles quietly, rubbing your back as the water continues to get warmer. “maybe… but only if i get to do this with you every morning.”

you tighten your hold on him, feeling his warmth seep into you. work, your other responsibilities, all of a sudden seem so far away. right now, it’s just the two of you, sharing this quiet, blissful moment.

you could get used to this.

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i’m so sorry if this is bad omg i haven’t written anything in years! i thought that after today’s news that this might lift the mood :) let me know what u guys think of this!! love u all!!

“Historically, Courts rightly presumed that the Executive branch ‘properly discharged its official function.’ With a few exceptions, for over two hundred years the Executive Branch earned the presumption of good faith. Over the last two months, it lost it.”

oh Agnifilo Intrater LLP is NOT fucking around

https://www.tumblr.com/palmersluvr/780707340543508480/this-is-an-ask-that-luigisbambinaaa-wrote-about

Girl that was sooooooo good. You NEED to start writing 💕

AWWW THANK YOU 💞💞💞 honestly it’s my first time ever writing anything like that!!! im on spring break right now so i guess i could try to write more if you have any ideas :P

first saw it because we know luigi hasn’t seen his own mom in a while, so it must feel really comforting to be able to find that kind of parental spirit in his counsel :-(

True !!! I find it kinda funny and kinda cute that all of the Agnifilos that work in law are on this case 😭 really gives off family vibe and they use it to their their advantage too. They also went for the family optics that the arraignment with the Karen and Luigi's matching sweater and Marc's matching tie. random fun fact (?) : Jacob also has a decades long working relationship with Marc, they have worked on so many cases before and he finally jumped the ship and joined the Agnifilo firm as a partner to work on this case.

the WHOLE agnifilo team came out for this one LMAO if i’m not mistaken i think even karen’s daughter is serving as a paralegal? or something to that effect? i remember seeing that somewhere ALSO i never noticed marc’s tie!!! 😣 that’s so sweet

i didn’t know any of that about jacob + marc’s working relationship but the fact that this case has like united all of them is just soooo 😓😖🥺 idk it makes me so emotional

O m g

roommates luigi mangione x reader 18+

smut summary your roommate luigi has been dealing drugs out of your house for or the past year and a half!!!??

warnings long ass intro, goodgirl-ish stereotype, jealousy, Angst, seriously long arguments, makeup/high sex, unedited, fingering, pussy eating, slapping, UNEDITED seriously

“hey, you live with pep, right?”

you blink, caught off guard. the question wasn’t unusual; the coffee shop was just a few blocks from campus. luigi liked to joke his only experience with roommates was sharing a house with frat boys and their girlfriends—unsurprisingly, they were the ones who usually came by. always with a package he left behind or cash they owed him.

never pretty, single girls.

you knew rebecca was single because she dumped her boyfriend at your birthday party last semester—caught him cheating and, according to campus lore, beat the shit out of both him and the girl. there was blood on the wall for weeks.

“you mean luigi?” you clarify.

“we were study buddies during undergrad. loved him,” she says, rummaging through a leather tote. she pulls out a pale pink envelope, his name scrawled across the front in careful cursive. “ran into him the other day and totally forgot to give him this. would you mind?”

you pause. the envelope feels too personal.

“you should give it to him yourself,” you say, too fast. “he’s throwing a party for the game tonight. you should come.”

“you’re so sweet. but i don’t know. i haven’t talked him in forever and so much has changed…” you feel a storm of something strange wash over you. a part of you didn’t want her to come to the party and you couldn’t place a finger on why. “is he still seeing that humanities major?”

“no, i don’t think so,” you say, trying to sound casual, even though your heart is already betraying you. pride tugs at your voice, holding it steady.

“oh. thank god,” she says. “pep’s always been so nice, but i can never tell if he’s just nice to everyone, you know?”

you’d never lie to a girl about your hot roommate’s love life—especially not just to protect your own feelings. even if they’re louder than they should be.

louder than they should be?!??! god, what were you even saying? your voice echoes in your own head, tiny and unsure. before you can spend another second replaying it, beautiful, blue-eyed rebecca leans over the counter and slides the envelope toward you. her fingers brush yours—intentional, maybe. she’s still smiling.

“listen, if i don’t make it, you’ll give it to him, right?”

maybe it was the optimist in you. maybe it was just a slow evening. or the retrograde. but ultimately, you smile—tight-lipped but genuine—and suddenly, you’re playing matchmaker. pretending your heart isn’t thudding, pretending you’re just being helpful.

the sky’s already gone purple by the time your shift ends. you smell like espresso and sweat, and your hair’s half-falling out of its bun. you don’t bother fixing it.

by the time you get to the house, the party’s already full; bass pulsing through the floorboards, bodies pressed together in the living room, and the back door swinging open every few minutes to clouds of smoke and laughter.

luigi’s posted up in the kitchen, adidas hoodie half-zipped, sleeves pushed up, a red solo cup dangling from his fingers like an afterthought. his hair’s a mess in that deliberate way, eyes sharp but warm when they land on you.

“you’re late,” he says, but he’s already moving to pour you a drink. something just a little sweeter than what he gives anyone else.

“had to close,” you say, sliding the envelope from your pocket and holding it out. “rebecca dropped this off for you.”

the brown-haired boy takes it, glancing at the cursive with a flicker of something unreadable. “cool, thanks,” he mutters, shoving it into a drawer without opening it.

you frown when he slides the envelope into the drawer like it’s junk mail. “you’re not going to read it?”

luigi glances at you, then at the drawer. “read it?”

“yeah,” you say, stepping closer. “i don’t know. it just seems like something she… put effort into.”

“y/n,” he huffs a soft laugh. “it’s not that kind of letter.”

you tilt your head. “what kind is it?”

“business,” he says. “boring stuff.”

“rebecca doesn’t seem boring.”

“she’s not. but this is,” luigi says, slipping his specialty drink into your hand—all sugar-sweet, just the way you like it.

“i’m glad you think so,” you watch him carefully as you continue your sentence, “cause i invited her over tonight.”

he tilts his head at you. “what? why would you do that?”

you shrug, trying to sound breezy. “she said you two were close. that you used to study together.”

a pause. too short to mean nothing, too long to not mean something.

“right, uh…” he tilts his head and tries to come up with more fulfilling response. “i guess i had a lot of study buddies that year.”

“okay well,” you frown at his lack of excitement. “she seemed nostalgic about it. she obviously misses you. she still calls you by your nickname and everything.”

the brunette watches your expression as he leans a hip against the counter, close now—close enough that you catch the faint smell of weed hiding underneath his signature cologne. he smiles playfully.

“so you figured i’d be thrilled to see her again? y/n, what would we even talk about?”

you’d been undergrad together, but never really together, not the way rebecca might’ve been. you wonder: were they hooking up? the story about the thought of rebecca, a dance major, seeking out robotics captain luigi mangione for help seemed strange. but who knows? there were always elective classes, chance meetings, and volunteer opportunities.

theories racketed your brain. she was his type obviously. she was everyone’s—confident, beautiful, the kind of girl who didn’t need to try to be the center of the room. the kind of girl people orbited around. the kind he’d probably want to be around—loud, magnetic, always laughing.

regardless, it wasn’t your business. you and luigi were roommates. friends, more or less, and only because the lease said so. crossing that line, even in conversation, felt weird. invasive. risky.

“don’t be a dick,” you say. “she seemed excited to see you.”

luigi raises an eyebrow. “to what, rekindle our academic bond?”

you roll your eyes. “i thought you’d be at least be little grateful i scored you a pretty date.”

“right, y/n,” he drawls out. “i’m so grateful you went out of your way to reunite me with another one of my study partners.”

“she’s gorgeous and she’s single.”

luigi watches your face carefully. “she put you up to this?”

“here i thought you were all about having a growth mindset,” you point out.

luigi sighs before another eye-roll. “i’m growing tired of this conversation. stop doing favors for people you don’t know.”

“you know, i think that’s why you’re still single.” you say, taking another swing of the sugary alcohol. “you’re close-minded.”

“i’m still single because i know what i want,” he corrects. “and you’re one to talk. you haven’t brought a guy home since you moved in.”

“don’t lump me in with you. i don’t bring guys home because i’m classy.” you say, though he was right. you weren’t seeing anyone. you just wanted to give off the impression that you were.

the brown-haired boy raises both his brows, amused. “alright then, who?”

you straighten. “i’m not telling you.”

“you get to pimp me out to strangers and i don’t get to know who you’re seeing?”

“oh, lighten up, i’d kill to have a love letter handwritten and delivered. it’s romantic!”

luigi shakes his head. “she owes me cash, y/n. it’s not a love letter.”

you feel your shoulders drop a bit, but maintain your stance. “no one decorates an envelope like that for a business transaction, luigi. give her a smile, at least.”

“if i give her a smile, do i get to know about your secret little love affair?

“it’s not like that.” at all. hopefully, rebecca could coerce him into a couple more drinks and he’d forget about this interaction completely.

“just you’re just hooking up, then? is he coming out tonight?”

“it doesn’t matter,” you give him a playful wave—desperate to end your lie—and start making your way up the stairs, but not before throwing a glance over your shoulder. “i’ll be right back. i need to change.”

“hurry back down,” luigi barks after you. “you’re seven drinks behind!”

you don’t go looking for him when you come back down.

the lights are low now, pulsing to the bass, and the house is full—warm with bodies and laughter and the smell of weed curling out through the open windows. you hear his voice somewhere, low and easy. you don’t look for rebecca but she’s here, you know it. you can feel them together somewhere in the room—close, magnetic, like a glittering coin on the pavement you have no interest in picking up.

jack—one of luigi’s older friends—spots you before you can pretend you’re just passing through. he was tall, and had just recently started a fancy press job in new york. he barely came back down for holidays, so you couldn’t help but notice him in your kitchen. he leans against the counter, tequila in hand and a half-smile already pulling at his mouth like he was waiting for you.

“y/n,” he says, eyes flicking over you, slow. “thought you’d locked yourself in for the night.”

“i tried,” you say. “someone threw a party under my house.”

“right, forgot, luigi’s infamous for being inconsiderate.” he pours you a drink without asking. “but if it gets you out here looking like that, i’m not mad about it.”

you blink, surprised, but not. jack’s always had that look about him, like he enjoys pushing a little past the line just to see what you’ll do.

“new york taught you how to flirt?”

he grins, offering you a brand new red solo cup. “no, those lessons were learned at harvard. i’ll can tell you all about it outside if you’d like.”

you glance away, take the drink. you can feel luigi somewhere behind you now, his presence like heat on your back.

“he letting you off your leash tonight?” jack presses, tone light, but there’s something sharper under it. “or is this a jailbreak?”

you huff a laugh, lifting the cup to your lips. “what leash?”

“c’mon,” he says, cocking his head. “you two play it off well, but you’ve got the kind of orbit that doesn’t happen by accident.”

“we’re just roommates,” you say.

“sure,” jack smirks. “and i’m a priest.”

before you can come up with something clever to toss back, a voice cuts through the conversation.

“oh my god, there you are!” rebecca practically bounces up to you, her face lighting up like she just spotted her favorite celebrity. she hugs you before you can even react, nearly knocking the drink out of your hand. “i couldn’t find you anywhere. this is amazing! thank you sooo much for inviting me!

you blink, surprised but trying not to show it. you haven’t seen rebecca this excited since, well… ever. how’d she get this drunk this quickly? had you really spent that long changing?

“careful, you’re gonna choke her out,” jack says, replacing her life-threatening grip with arm slipped around your waist, hovering close enough to make you feel the heat of his touch. you stiffen but don’t pull away, unsure if it’s because you’re actually okay with it or just frozen in the moment.

“sorry, sorry, i get handsy when im drunk,” rebecca says, eyes bright. you think back to your birthday party and agree silently. “don’t worry, jack, i have no plans on stealing your date.”

he leans in close, voice warm. “guess i’ll just have to hold on tighter, then.”

“date?” the word cuts in like a hook—low, sharp, unmistakably amused.

you glance up. luigi enters in behind rebecca, hands shoved in his pockets, the faintest tilt to his mouth like he’s trying very hard not to look annoyed. or worse: interested.

“i didn’t know you two were close,” luigi continues, eyes skimming over you and jack like he’s filing something away.

god. you were never going to hear the end of this.

“we’re not,” you say too quickly.

“yet,” jack adds, easy as anything, his arm still resting a little too comfortably around your waist.

you open your mouth, but before you can respond, rebecca gasps dramatically beside luigi.

“oh my god, pep, you’re so nosy,” she teases, looping her arm through his like it belongs there. “let them flirt. it’s cute.”

you blink, surprised, but try to play it off. jack chuckles. luigi doesn’t.

jack shifts, clearly picking up on the tension, and attempts to pull you away, “we were just headed out for a smoke, actually, so—”

“she doesn’t smoke,” luigi says, like it’s some sort of fact he’s decided for you.

you feel your face sink a bit, embarrassment flashing hot under your skin. really? this is how he repays you? cock-blocking you after you set him up with miss fucking pennsylvania?

“what? no, i—”

luigi cuts in, eyes steady, eyebrows raised like he’s already caught you in a lie. “you what?”

you falter. you don’t. you never have.

jack glances between you two, clearly catching on. “hey, it’s not a big deal,” he says, hands half-up in peace. “just thought you might wanna come out back. talk. chill.”

luigi’s mouth twitches, but it’s not a smile. “talk. chill. sounds thrilling.”

rebecca snorts as glances between the three of you, like she’s clocking something—then leans in, stage-whispering, “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say someone’s feeling a little left out.”

jack holds up his hands in mock innocence. “it’s just a cigarette, pep. not a proposal.”

you shift, caught somewhere between wanting to defend yourself and wanting the floor to open up and swallow you whole. “i—i’ve tried it before. once.”

luigi raises an eyebrow. “and that makes you a smoker?”

you glare at him, embarrassed. “no. i didn’t say that.”

“then why the hell are you trying to impress him?”

jack steps closer now, his voice calm but firm. “look, if there’s a problem here, we can talk about it.”

but luigi doesn’t respond to jack. his hazel eyes stay locked on you, cold and unreadable. “upstairs bathroom light’s been on for the last half hour,” he says, his voice casual, but it cuts through everything. “again.”

you pause, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “what?”

“it’s messing with the breaker,” he says, more pointed now. “you wanna help me fix it, or do you need more time with him?”

your face flushes deeper, but you don’t know what to say. you glance at jack, who’s looking at you, a little frustrated but still giving you space to make a decision.

rebecca tries to cut in with a forced smile. “okay, okay, let’s not make this a whole thing,” she says, giving luigi an exaggerated pat on the arm. “you’ve got ‘house duties’. go before the place falls apart. both of you.”

you take a deep breath, torn between the need to stay and the undeniable pull of getting away from this mess. reluctantly, you turn to follow luigi.

he doesn’t look back, but you can feel the weight of his presence as he heads toward the stairs. you follow, hesitating, trying to ignore the feeling of eyes on your back.

the door clicks shut behind you, and for the first time tonight, it’s just the two of you.

“you’re being mean,” you finally say, voice tight. “i set you up with the ten of tens, and you repay me by embarrassing me in front of jack?

“embarrassing you?” he repeats in disbelief. “are you serious?”

“i would’ve never done that to you!” your voice comes out sharper than you mean it, laced with something like betrayal. “i wouldn’t humiliate you in front of someone i knew liked you.”

“yeah?” he bites back, his fawn-colored eyes darker than ever. “well, maybe if you actually paid attention, you’d realize he doesn’t just like you. jack’s been circling you for months.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you snipe. “and even if that were true, who cares? we were just talking.”

“you don’t see it,” he says, shaking his head, furious and exasperated all at once. “you never fucking see it.”

“see what?”

“he’s not subtle, and he’s definitely not harmless. he’s just waiting for you to be dumb enough to give him a shot.”

“so what?” you say. “he’s not the first guy to flirt with me, luigi.”

“he’s the first one you let,” he argues.

you throw your hands up. “jesus, who cares? he was talking to me. you know, like people do at parties. i wasn’t naked in his lap.”

“could’ve fooled me.”

that’s it. the last thread of patience snaps.

“you’ve got a real talent for making me feel like shit,” you say, each word heavy with hurt. you’re not crying. you’re not giving him the satisfaction of breaking down. but god, does it feel like he just ripped something out of you.

you don’t wait for him to say anything else. you turn on your heel, walk straight to the door, and shove it open with more force than you meant. the sound of it slamming behind you feels louder than it should, final in a way you weren’t prepared for.

he doesn’t follow.

. . .

the house is silent for days. luigi’s always been out earlier than you, and you’ve mastered the art of avoiding him—turning your head just in time to not catch his eye, slipping out the door when you hear his footsteps getting too close. there’s a strange comfort in the silence, in not having to confront what happened. but the silence is bound to break eventually.

he starts leaving little things behind. a hoodie on the couch, a mug in the sink, his shoes at the door. it’s like he’s trying to find a way to be around without being around, but it’s only making it harder for you to ignore him.

you can feel him watching, though he doesn’t say anything. you’re aware of every shift in the air, every time his footsteps get too close to your door. the air in the house gets heavier, filled with all the things neither of you are saying.

days pass like this: him and his quiet little offerings, and a stream of overly confident ex-frat guys making appearances at your coffee shop. you’ve been spending more time at work more than ever.

one afternoon, a girl—polished nails, perfect ponytail—leans over the counter and says, “hey, are you luigi’s roommate?”

you groan internally. “yes.”

she slides a thick envelope toward you. “can you give this to him?”

you should say no. it’s on the tip of your tongue. but instead, you nod once and slip it into your bag.

the house smells faintly like weed when you get home—soft and sour, like it’s sunk into the walls. you don’t think much of it until you knock once on luigi’s door, step in to drop off the envelope and. he’s on the floor, shirtless, back against his bedframe like he’s been there for a while. his curly hair is a mess, sticking up in soft waves like he’s dragged his hands through it too many times. his eyes—bambi-colored, warm and red-rimmed—find you instantly.

he blinks up at you like he wasn’t expecting to ever see you again.

“you’re home,” he says, half to himself.

you glance at the envelope you just dropped on the desk. “don’t get too excited. it’s just another envelope.”

the brown-haired boy blinks, confused, slow to react. “wait—can you just—”

“already did my part,” you cut in, stepping back.

“can you just talk to me?” he says. it’s not demanding. it’s quiet. weirdly soft. “yell at me. call me a dick. something.”

you shake your head. “we’ve argued enough.”

he stumbles closer, barefoot and slow, like he’s trying not to spook you. “y/n, come on, i didn’t mean to—”

“then why did you do it?” you cut him off, but the frustration that floods your voice doesn’t quite match the hurt you feel.

you just want him to apologize. you shake your head, trying to make sense of the confusion swirling in your chest. “i don’t you want me to say, luigi. that i felt humiliated? that i was standing there trying to have a normal conversation, and you acted like i was doing something wrong? like i was—i don't know—cheap or something?"

luigi frowns. "i would never say that.”

"you don’t have to," you snap. "the look on your face said it. the tone in your voice said it. everyone could hear it."

"i just didn't want him near you!”

“why does that matter?”

“it just does, okay?”

you cross your arms over your chest. “that’s not an answer, luigi.”

“i know… i know, i’m sorry i’ve been a mess, and i made you feel like shit, and i’m sorry,” he begins quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “but you have to understand… it’s not easy for me to say any of this. i’m not used to feeling like this.”

you glance at him, not quite following what he’s getting at. “feeling like what?”

he takes a slow step forward, eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that almost feels like it’s burning him. he’s close enough now you can smell the remnants of whatever he’d been smoking—and hell, he was right. you really weren’t a smoker. you feel yourself shrink underneath the cloud, eyes studying his tired face.

“feeling jealous. feeling… like i was losing something i couldn’t live without. when i saw you with jack, smiling at him, it… god, it just hit me,” he says, his voice strained. “and i couldn’t stand it. the way you looked at him—it’s like i wasn’t even there anymore. like i was invisible to you.”

you stare at him, processing everything, and it’s like the weight of his words hits you all at once, but your pride refuses to let you soften just yet. “so what? you thought humiliating me was the answer? making me feel like shit in front of jack and rebecca.”

“no,” he says quickly, his voice raw. “god, no. that was never the plan. i just… i don’t know what the hell i was doing. i just saw you with him and my head—” he stops, shaking his head, clearly frustrated with himself. “i wasn’t thinking straight. i know it’s no excuse. i fucked up. but i want to fix it. please, y/n, i want to fix this.”

“i don’t even know what to say to you,” you murmur, your voice quieter now, but your arms still crossed defensively over your chest.

he steps forward again, desperation in his eyes. “you do, though. you do. i swear to god, i never meant to make you feel like this. i’ve… i’ve been an idiot. i don’t know how to fix it, but i can’t stand seeing you like this. i can’t stand knowing i’ve hurt you.”

“i’m sorry, y/n.” he continues, his voice dropping even lower as his arms come around to embrace you, “i know i messed up. but i care about you, more than i can say. i didn’t want him looking at you like that, not when you’re… so much more than that.”

you’re quiet for a long moment, letting yourself nuzzle into his warmth. “you should’ve just said something,” you say softly, the edge still in your voice, though it’s starting to fade.

“i know. i wish i had. i just didn’t know how to handle it. i didn’t want to mess things up between us.” his voice drops to a whisper. “but i can’t stand the thought of you thinking i don’t care.”

you look away, feeling the weight of everything swirling between you both. “i don’t know, luigi. i’m still pissed.”

the brown-haired boy exhales sharply. “yeah, i get that. i do. i’m not asking you to forgive me right away. but…” he hesitates before he pulls himself off of you, his voice almost embarrassed. “but maybe we can try… i was thinking maybe we could just to smoke, for now. just to calm down. and then we can talk more.”

your brows lift.

“you’re trying to bribe me into forgiving you with weed?”

luigi laughs under his breath. “no. maybe. i don’t know. i just… thought maybe we could use a pause.”

you eye the joint warily. “i’ve never smoked before.”

“i know,” he says gently. “and you don’t have to. just stay here with me.”

and somehow, you do. you sit on the edge of his bed while he lights up, still shirtless and stupidly pretty in the soft light. he takes the first hit, exhales slow, then offers it to you.

you hesitate.

“it’s okay,” he says, voice dipped in something tender. “you don’t have to be cool about it. i’ll talk you through.”

you take it. breathe in. cough, a little.

luigi grins. “cute.”

you narrow your eyes, but the minutes slip by quietly, and the high starts to settle into your limbs—warm, slow, like honey. the anger that once pulsed sharp behind your ribs begins to dull at the edges, softening into something you can’t quite name. he gently guides you closer to him on the bed. as you both pass the blunt back and forth, the tension is still there, but it’s lighter now, less heavy. his skin brushes yours—bare and warm—and you feel the heat of him even through the haze.

“you know,” luigi says softly, his voice low, like he’s afraid to break the moment. “you’re pretty all the time.”

you glance at him, brow arching.

“but when you’re mad at me…” he trails off with a small huff, running his fingers down the line on your chin. “it’s a problem. because i still wanna kiss you. even when you look like you want to kill me.”

you roll your eyes, trying not to smile, but it’s a losing battle. “you’re just saying that because we’re high and in your bed.”

“nah,” he says, and this time his voice drops even lower, more serious. “i’ve been thinking it since sophomore year.”

“i think you’re confusing me with someone else.” you laugh. “we didn’t know each other sophomore year.”

“what do you mean?” he frowns. “that was the first year you worked at the coffee shop.”

“sure, yeah,” you agree. that was correct. but you two didn’t even know each other until halloweekend junior year. “how would you even know that? you don’t even like coffee.”

“you’d never remember me,” luigi adds quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “i’d just sit there and try to study. you were always there, like… humming to yourself behind the counter. or talking to old people like they were your best friends. i don’t know. you just—made everything feel more fun.”

you stare at him, processing.

he shifts closer, just slightly. the bed dips. his shoulder brushes yours again. you don’t pull away.

his fingers find your hair, brushing it back from your cheek, so gentle it makes your chest ache. “i’m sorry for being a dick,” he says. “at the party. before that. all of it. i didn’t know how to say any of this. and i didn’t want to screw it up.”

“you kind of did,” you say, but there’s no bite to it. just truth.

“i know.” his thumb traces lightly along your jaw. “but if there’s still a chance… i want to try.”

your heart skips. the weed makes everything feel softer, but the clarity in his eyes is real.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, voice low. nervous.

you hesitate for just a second. then you nod.

and when he leans in, it’s slow. he’s giving you every second to pull away. but you don’t. your eyes flutter shut and his mouth finds yours, warm and tentative, until the kiss deepens with something that feels like all the things he never said. you melt into his warmth, one hand on his bare chest, the other tangled in his curls. his hands are everywhere, tracing the curve of your back, sliding under your shirt.

you gasp into his mouth as he quickly finds the softness of your hip, pulling you closer and tugging your leg over him so the heat of your core is against him. shaky breaths escape you as his lips travel up your neck.

“y/n, hold on,” luigi murmurs, his body feverish beneath yours as you feel his raging bulge poking into you with every small movement you make. “are you sure?”

“yes.” you were misty-eyed and barely breathing but completely sure, your arms wrapping around his neck, teasingly scratching his back with your nails. “you don’t have to be so careful with me.”

the brown-haired boy lets out a short laugh as he leans in for another kiss. “don’t say shit like that,” he murmurs.

you weren’t usually this confident. but other than this weekend, you couldn’t picture luigi as anything other than sugar sweet.

“or what?”

“or i’m not gonna be able to control myself.”

“control yourself?” you repeat, feeling a hazy laugh escape your lips without reason. “luigi, you could never hurt me.”

“yeah?” luigi hums. “you sure you can take it?”

“i want to,” you say, overconfident. “i want you, luigi.”

and before you could even adjust, he was on top of you, his tongue down your throat as you pressed yourself into him, feeling his hard cock against you.

you gripped his bicep as his two large fingers found your heat, giving you no time to adjust. he moved with precision and purpose, thrusting and curling as you were forced to look into his brown eyes.

“good girl, so wet f’me,” he whispers. eyeing you down, admiring the wet patch he’s created through ur panties.

“that’s all for me, yeah?” he continues airily. he swipes his fingers across the waistband of your panties, letting it catch and snap lightly against your butt. you gasp, and he grins, pleased with himself. “or did you wanna call up jack one more time? make his fuckin’ night?”

“no,” you hum. “i only want you.”

“good girl,” he murmurs into your skin as he begins to kiss down your body. he harshly rips the fabric of your panties off your body.

you pout. “those were expensive.”

“i’ll buy you anything you need,” he says. “just let me have my way with you.”

helpless and impatient, you whine, when he spits against your core, lubricating his movements so he can abuse every one of your senses. his tongue darts inside your weeping cunt, moving freely with the oozing wetness that gushes over, moaning with every sweet gasp that escapes you.

“luigi," you writhe, fingers grappling blindly at the curls that lay matted against luigi’s forehead. "please please please.."

his response is muffled against your pussy as he licks every ounce of arousal that your cunt provides, spurred on by the fruitless push of your heels into the mattress and the tightening of your thighs around his skull. he's eager to make up for lost time, sealing his lips around your clit for the last time so that your spasming, legs locking into a momentary paralyzed position until he's pressing palms into your dewy thighs and forcing them farther apart to delve further into his meal.

you can’t help but let out a whimper when he pulls his mouth off of you, dragging you to the edge of his bed by your ankles. “luigi,” you cry out, helpless.

“don’t be a brat,” he says before throwing. a hard smack to across your face. “i’m gonna give you exactly what you need.”

tugging at his sweatpants down, letting them fall, and pushing his boxers down just enough for his huge veiny cock to sit up hitting his stomach.

your heart races at the sight of him, you already know he’s gonna stretch you out. he loves the look of fear in ur eyes as u take him in. without any warning at all, he starts ploughing his massive cock into ur soaked innocence. you scream at the impact, tears welling in your eyes as he fucks you with no remorse.

your legs unconsciously wrap around his waist. his hands grip onto your hips tightly, surely leaving bruises for you in the morning. you feel a slap come down on your ass cheek, you let out a sharp moan, and another hard slap makes you writhe in pain.

“where you goin’?” he retorts, somewhere between playful and arrogant. “don’t run from it, baby, you said you’d be a good girl f’me.”

“luigi, fuck, hold on—” you cry out when he goes in deeper.

“fuckin’ take it, quit complaining.” he gripes before taking your tit in one hand, teasing your nipple in between his fingers.

you shiver at the sensation. “luigi!”

“just like that,” he grunts. “scream on my cock like that, sweetheart. let the neighbors know.”

he put his whole body into fucking you, tightened his grip around your throat and leaned down to whisper in your ear, pushing you further down and you squirmed underneath him.

"you want me to fill you up, huh?" he says, voice low and filthy. "want me to come inside you?" his thumb finds your clit, putting the slightest pressure as he circles slowly, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

you can’t answer, not with words. just a desperate whimper as your legs lock tighter around his waist, hips rolling up to meet him. "come on, princess,” luigi coos. "don’t make me do all the work. least you could do is tell me what you want.”

"p-please… luigi. i can't—” you whimpered, tears pricking the corners of your eyes—not from pain, but from sheer, ineffable need. your inner muscles clenched desperately, trying to pull the orgasm out.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good, huh?”he groans into your ear, you writhe against him once more.

“s’close,” you cry out, finally. “want you to breed me.”

luigi moans at the request, flipping you over as you let out moans that got muffled by the pillow, a handful of your hair around his fist as you closed your eyes in pleasure, your fists gripping the sheets to try and anchor yourself as he whispered in your ear. every thrust, truth and praise. such a good girl for me... you're mine... this pussy's all mine... no one's gonna fuck this pretty girl like i do..." until you become undone around him, his own cum mixing with your juices as your cunt clenched around him.

luigi’s body sinks into the mattress beside yours, the bed dipping gently beneath him. the air is thick with the scent of sex and weed—hazy, intimate, almost golden in the low light. it clings to the sheets, to your skin, to the quiet between you. but there’s no regret. no leftover ache. whatever had fractured between you hours ago feels far away now, softened by touch and breath and the comfort of being near each other again.

you’re still staring up at the ceiling, letting the moment settle into something that feels like this—peaceful, but maybe a little fragile. then, almost without thinking, you ask,

“so… if this didn’t work, what was your backup plan?”

luigi lets out a quiet laugh, like he’s caught off guard. “you think i had a backup?”

“you always do,” you tease, shifting slightly to look at him.

he hesitates, glancing at the ceiling like he’s deciding how much he’s willing to share. then, finally,

“i wrote you something.”

you blink. “like a song?”

he snorts. “jesus christ, no.”

“oh.”

“don’t look so disappointed, it was just as corny,” he says. there’s a pause, then a soft laugh from his side of the bed. not mocking. nervous.

“i, uh…” he continues, and he’s already blushing, you can hear it in his voice. “it was a letter. i wasn’t gonna show you unless i had to. like, absolute worst case scenario.”

you shift, propping yourself up on one elbow so you can see him better. “you wrote me a love letter?”

he makes a face. “no, i wouldn’t call it that.”

you turn to face him, amused. “what would you call it?”

“something i’m gonna throw away as soon as you fall asleep.”

you pout, turning fully to face him now. “what, it wasn’t romantic?”

“that’s not what i said,” he mutters. “it’s just… you said that thing in the kitchen. about how you’d kill to have someone write you a love letter.“

you meet his gaze, a little shocked by how tender it is, how much sincerity he’s not even trying to hide.

“wait,” you say, heart beating a little faster, “where’s this letter?”

he looks away, obviously flustered. “uh… probably buried at the bottom of my backpack somewhere.”

you narrow your gaze. “you’re lying.”

he turns toward you with a smile, but it’s more like a nervous grin. “yeah, well… if you’d seen it, you’d understand why.”

you pout immediately. “it doesn’t matter what it says. it’s my first love letter.”

the fan hums its tired rhythm above you, steady and slow. beneath the blanket, your fingers find his—softly, like a thought half-formed, like instinct.

“you seriously not gonna let me read it?” you ask eventually.

he doesn’t answer right away.

“maybe not tonight,” he says.

you nod, and that’s fine. it’s more than fine.

you stretch your arm across the space between you, hand resting just barely on his chest. his heart beats steady beneath your palm. real. ordinary. a little fast.

“hey,” you say softly.

he looks at you.

“don’t lose it.”

“the letter?”

you nod.

he watches you for a long second. then says, “i won’t.”

ask-box officially re-opened!

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