Happy Birthday Squeej

happy birthday squeej

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Birthday Boy

TW: breeding kink, dominant reader, oral (m receiving), worship kink, soft filth,overstimulation, mirror sex, riding,praise kink, deep obsession, slow burn filth

⸻

He didn’t even make it to the bed.

You had him sitting on the edge of the couch in just his dress shirt, barely unbuttoned, chest flushed, eyes already heavy like he’d been begging for hours.

“You’re not allowed to touch,” you told him, straddling his lap with a slow smirk, your nails dragging up his throat as he swallowed hard. “It’s your birthday. You let me take care of you.”

He nodded, jaw clenched, hands fisting the couch cushions instead of your thighs.

Good boy.

You kissed down his chest slow, each button undone with your mouth, not your hands, until he was exposed and twitching beneath you. And then you dropped to your knees. Luigi’s head dropped back the moment your mouth wrapped around him, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he whispered, “Fuck—” like he hadn’t been touched in weeks. You took him deep, let him hit the back of your throat just to feel him buck under the pressure, your hands holding him still. You didn’t stop. You wanted him shaking.

“Not yet,” you whispered when he started to come undone, your spit coating him, lips swollen, eyes wet.

“You don’t get to come until I’m on top of you.”

He was already wrecked when you climbed on, guiding him in with a slow grind of your hips. His hands immediately flew to your waist, and you slapped them away.

“What did I say?”

He bit his lip hard, whimpering now, hips twitching up into you. You rode him slow at first, just enough to tease, then faster when he started moaning like he was gonna lose his mind. One hand dragged through his curls, the other gripping his jaw.

“You gonna cum for me, birthday boy? Gonna fill me up like a good fuckin’ gift?”

He nodded, eyes glassy. “Yes... fuck...please, let me—”

You leaned in, kissed him slow, and whispered, “Then give it to me. All of it.”

And he did with a cry, a curse, and his head thrown back like he’d just been blessed by God himself.

You didn’t stop moving.

You never stopped.

You barely made it to the bedroom before you decided he hadn’t seen enough. His body was already flushed and trembling, chest rising and falling like he was still trying to catch the breath you stole from him on the couch. His curls were messy, his shirt still clinging to his shoulders, soaked with sweat from the first round. And his cock?

Still hard. Still leaking.

Still yours.

“Sit.”

Your voice was soft, but the command in it was sharp. You nodded toward the mirror on the closet door.

“Back against the wall. Legs spread. Hands behind you.”

Luigi didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He followed like he’d been waiting for this exact moment all year. You stepped toward him, completely bare now, slick still coating your inner thighs, chest rising slowly and confidently. His eyes dropped between your legs, tongue wetting his lips like he was praying for a taste. But you weren’t giving him that yet. You straddled him again, knees planted on either side of his thighs, the cool wood floor grounding you both. You reached down, ran your fingers along the length of his cock twitching, desperate, soaked with the mess he’d made of himself and dragged it through your folds. He let out the quietest, broken little moan.

You smirked.

“Eyes up, birthday boy.”

You tilted his chin up, forcing him to look forward into the mirror.

“I want you to watch how pretty you look while I fuck you again.”

And then you sank down onto him. Slow.Devastating. You took every inch until your hips met, and he gasped — head falling back against the wall, hands twitching behind him.

“Fuck—” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Baby, I can’t… I just came—”

“Shhh.”

You started to move.

Up.

Down.

Up again.

Every bounce made the sound between you louder wetter, filthier — like you were trying to fuck the breath from his lungs. And it was working.

“Look at your face,” you whispered into his ear, breath hot. “Look how desperate you get when you’re inside me. That pretty mouth open, your eyes begging. You like being used, don’t you?”

He whimpered actually whimpered, nodding like he couldn’t remember a single word of English. You grabbed his face with one hand, your other hand clawing into his chest for leverage as you rode him harder. His thighs trembled beneath you, his cock twitching so deep inside you that you could feel another orgasm building.

So close.

So fucking close.

“You gonna cum for me again, baby?” you purred. “You gonna fill me up till I’m dripping down your cock, huh? One more for me, birthday boy.”

His mouth dropped open like he was gonna respond but then he came.

Hard.

With a grunt and a sob and a strangled gasp of your name. You slowed your movements, grinding down on him, dragging it out, making him feel every second of it. He looked up at you, completely wrecked, pupils blown, sweat clinging to his skin.

But your hips didn’t stop.

And neither did your voice.

“Don’t think we’re done yet, baby.”

You leaned in, kissed him slow and deep, tasting his moans as he trembled beneath you.

“I want one more. I want you crying while I take every last drop.”

Hope you guys enjoy. Drop a though on what I should write next or maybe not it’s ok 👍🏻

112 notes View Post

luigisbambinaaa

1 month ago

okay wait imagine ur little baby girl learning to talk but not even talking yet more just babbling; who gets teary-eyed and frustrated when u don’t understand her sometimes but lu is actually weirdly good at deciphering baby babble and has full on conversations w her bc in all the books he’s read it says how important that is for their development and own language skills… would love how talkative she is like i think he would find it rlly amazing the process/journey of communicating w ur babies AH.

58 notes View Post

luigisbambinaaa

1 month ago

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!

masterlist

292 notes View Post

luigisbambinaaa

1 month ago

luigi thought of the day 🤗

you being pregnant with your kid and at the beach, and your stomach is too big and far along for you to reach down and put your sunscreen on ur legs <3 so luigi has you standing there on the beach in the hot sun while he’s very diligently putting sunscreen EVERYWHERE on ur body <3 like lifting your arms up and out of his way to get ur sides completely covered. holding ur hair to the side while getting ur neck…

on his knees in the hot sand, smoothing the lotion all over your calves and thighs and ass <333 tells you “keep your hand on my shoulder, baby. last thing we need is you falling” while he’s massaging your tense calves. definitely gets very handsy when he’s covering the backs of your thighs and ass. has no shame in sneaking his hands under ur bottoms. also definitely likes doing it because he can tell other men are eyeing you on the beach even tho it’s sooo obvious you’re pregnant. and well, of course luigi has to let them know only he can touch you like that! because he’s the one who knocked you up and you’re carrying his baby. not theirs :-)

130 notes View Post

luigisbambinaaa

1 month ago

holy fuckkk 😩😭

indulge me i don’t even know with what but god there is is a DROUGHT

getting even

summary: you and your ex boyfriend luigi cuck your current idiot of a boyfriend after you catch him in bed with a HOOKER 😱

warnings: male tears, cucking, head (f!receiving) luigi is cocky asf and a munch

notes: please ignore. way too high and thought this was profound

“are you FUCKING kidding me?”

there your boyfriend was, in bed with a hooker. you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

well that’s a lie, if anything you knew this would come eventually, you’d just been way too naive to admit it to yourself.

malcom’s eyes widened as he scrambles to cover himself, his face flushing red.

"b-b-baby, p-please," he stammers, tripping over his words like an absolute numptie. “it’s n-not what it l-looks like!"

you cross your arms, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as you mock his pathetic stutter. "b-b-bullshit, m-malcom! i let you live here r-r-rent f-f-free and this is how you r-r-repay m-me???”

your eyes darted to the prostitute still sprawled across your bed, clutching the sheets like they’d save her.

with a voice sharp enough to cut glass, you snap, “and you, get the fuck out of my house, NOW!”

the woman flinched, scrambling to gather her scattered clothes in a frantic heap. as she stumbled to her feet, she shot malcom a venomous glare, spat directly on his chest, and hissed, “DICKHEAD!” clutching her belongings, she bolted out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hall.

you turn your gaze to malcom, who sat frozen, the spit glistening on his chest, his mouth agape like a fish out of water. with a voice cold and steady, you murmur “put some clothes on and pack your shit.”

malcom’s eyes glisten with tears, his lip trembling as he looked up at you, desperation in his voice. “no.” he chokes out, shaking his head weakly.

your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a smirk curling your lips as you lean n slightly. “no? you sure?” you said, voice dripping with mockery. “alright, i’ll just give luigi a call then, heard he’s back in town.”

⊹˚✧₊‿︵ʚɞ︵‿₊✧˚⊹

luigi, your ex boyfriend, was someone you parted ways with not because of any betrayal or lack of chemistry, but simply because the distance between you became too much to deal with. you met him a few years back when you were both at the same college, and the connection was instant. electric, even.

he was charming, confident, and had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room. but when he moved across the country for a job, the strain of a long distance relationship wore you both down. late night calls and sporadic visits couldn’t sustain the spark, so you mutually decided to end it, though you stayed on good terms. there was always a lingering "what if" in the back of your mind when it came to him.

now, standing in front of malcom, the contrast between the two men couldn’t be starker. sex with luigi was something else entirely… passionate, intense, and deeply satisfying. he knew exactly how to touch you, how to read your body, and he took his time, making sure you were left trembling and breathless.

with luigi, you never had to fake it, he could make you cum effortlessly, sometimes multiple times in a single night, leaving you blissed out and craving more. it was like he had a map to your desires, and he navigated it with ease.

malcom, on the other hand, was a disappointment in comparison. sex with him was lackluster, rushed, and entirely focused on his own pleasure. you couldn’t remember the last time he’d even come close to getting you there.

it was mechanical, predictable, and left you feeling more frustrated than fulfilled. where luigi was a maestro in bed, malcom was like a clumsy amateur, fumbling through without a clue.

⊹˚✧₊‿︵ʚɞ︵‿₊✧˚⊹

malcom’s teary eyes narrow at your taunt, his voice shaking but defiant. “you wouldn’t dare.” he said as he tried to call your bluff.

you smirk, unfazed, and pull your phone from your pocket. without breaking eye contact, you scroll to luigi’s name, tap the call button, and put it on speaker.

malcom sits there on the bed, frozen in shock, his wide eyes locked on the phone as if it were a ticking bomb. his mouth hangs open, the spit on his chest still glistening, his earlier defiance crumbling into pure panic.

after a few rings, the call connected, and luigi’s warm, familiar voice fills the room.

“hey you,” he says, his tone casual but laced with a hint of surprise and affection.

“heyy,” you reply, your voice smooth and deliberate. “heard you were back in town. been thinking about you lately.”

luigi chuckles, his voice dropping playfully. “oh yeah? you miss me?”

you lean against the wall, letting your tone turn flirty, a teasing edge to it. “yes, in fact… come over and fuck me.”

malcom’s jaw dropped further, his face paling as he stares, utterly speechless.

luigi pauses for a beat, then asked “what about that guy you’re with? whats-his-face?”

you rolled your eyes, glancing at malcom with disgust. “i just caught him in bed with a hooker,” you said flatly, watching malcom flinch as if you’d slapped him.

luigi burst out laughing, the sound rich and unrestrained. “i warned you about him.”

you sighed, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “i know, i’m an idiot, okay? i own up to it. shut up and come over. i miss your dick.”

luigi’s voice dropped, thick with heat. “well i miss how your pretty pussy tastes. it’s all i think about whenever i jerk off.”

you purr into the phone, “i know, baby.”

he chuckles darkly. “how about i eat you out while he watches?”

malcom lets out a choked sob, his hands covering his face as fat tears stream down his cheeks, his body shaking with pathetic whimpers.

you glance at him, then smirk. “you know what? that’s a good idea.”

luigi’s tone is all business now, laced with anticipation. “i’ll be there in 10 minutes.” the call ended with a click.

you toss the phone onto the bed and fix your gaze on malcom, who’s still sobbing, his face buried in his hands. “hear that?” you say, your voice sharp and unyielding. “and you’re gonna stay and watch. understand?”

malcom shoulders shake, but he lifts his head just enough to nod, tears streaking his face, his eyes hollow with defeat.

your anger flares, and you step closer, voice rising. “say you understand!”

malcom flinches, his voice barely a whisper through his sobs. “i understand.”

you smile.

“thank you.”

⊹˚✧₊‿︵ʚɞ︵‿₊✧˚⊹

ten minutes later, a sharp, confident knock reverberates through the house, pulling you from the haze of your fury.

you stride to the front door, pulse hammering in your veins, and fling it open. there stands luigi, looking like he stepped out of a fever dream. he’s even sexier than you remember, his dark hair slightly tousled, his jawline sharper, muscles taut under a fitted black shirt that clings to his frame.

his eyes lock onto yours, sparking with that familiar mix of mischief and hunger. a slow, dangerous smirk curls his lips, and before he can say a word, you grab the collar of his shirt, yank him toward you, and crash your lips into his.

the kiss is fierce, all heat and urgency, your tongues tangling as his strong hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. You’re still standing in the open doorway, the cool night air brushing your skin, but the world beyond him doesn’t exist.

he breaks the kiss just enough to lean in, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, “missed you.”

“i missed you too.” you reply, your voice a sultry purr, thick with want as you linger close, your fingers still curled in his shirt.

his smirk widens, and he tilts his head, glancing past you into the house. “so, where’s the asshole?”

you chuckle, a dark edge to it, and step back, offering him your hand. “right this way.”

you lace your fingers with his, his grip warm and firm, and lead him through the house, your heels clicking on the hardwood floor. the anticipation builds with every step, a delicious coil of heat tightening in your core. when you reach the bedroom doorway, you pause, taking in the sorry sight before you.

malcom is still slumped on the bed, a sniveling mess, his face splotchy and red from crying. tears stream down his cheeks, his hands tremble in his lap, and he’s too paralyzed by shock to even move. he looks like a broken toy, discarded and pathetic.

luigi leans casually against the doorframe, his smirk sharpening as he sizes malcom up. “hey man.” he says, voice smooth and taunting. “i’m luigi. what’s your name?”

malcom’s head jerks up, his bloodshot eyes blazing with a mix of shame and fury. “you know my name! we went to penn together!” he snaps, his voice cracking, the words half swallowed by a sob.

luigi lets out a low, mocking laugh, unfazed, and steps closer, his presence commanding the room. he looms over Malcolm, his tone shifting to something colder, more pointed. “now why the fuck would you cheat on someone like her?” he asks, gesturing toward you with a tilt of his head.

“look at her, she’s smart as hell, kind, gorgeous, the whole package. what kind of idiot throws that away?”

you roll your eyes, the flattery stoking the fire already burning inside you. stepping toward luigi, you let your hand trail across his chest, your voice dropping to a sultry, impatient drawl. “kiss me.”

⊹˚✧₊‿︵ʚɞ︵‿₊✧˚⊹

you’ve always dreamt about having sex with luigi again, the memory of his touch haunting your late night fantasies long after you parted ways.

his hands knew exactly where to grip, his mouth where to linger, his cock hitting every spot with relentless precision until you were a trembling, moaning wreck. he’d fuck you with a rhythm that felt like it was carved into your soul, deep, deliberate thrusts that stretched you perfectly, his fingers teasing your clit in sync until you shattered, screaming his name as your pussy clenched around him.

no one else ever came close to that kind of ecstasy, least of all malcom, whose clumsy attempts barely registered. but as much as you craved luigi’s body again, you never imagined it would happen like this… in front of another man, with malcom’s pathetic sobs as the backdrop.

currently, you’re sprawled on the bedroom floor, the cool hardwood pressing against your back as luigi’s face is buried between your thighs. his tongue is a fucking revelation, lapping at your dripping cunt with a hunger that makes your toes curl. he’s sliding two fingers deep inside you, curling them just right to hit that spot that sends electric shocks through your core.

his lips close around your swollen clit, sucking hard, then flicking it with quick, precise strokes of his tongue, each one pulling a desperate moan from your throat. your juices coat his chin, glistening as he groans against your pussy, the vibration making your hips buck.

he’s relentless, his fingers pumping in and out, slick and fast, while his mouth works your clit like he’s starving for it, teasing every sensitive nerve until your vision blurs. your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, grinding your core against his face as you chase the edge of oblivion.

malcom’s still there, slumped on the bed, his tear-streaked face a distant blur. his whimpers are white noise, drowned out by the wet sounds of luigi’s tongue and the ragged gasps spilling from your lips. you didn’t expect this, luigi devouring you on the floor while malcom watches, broken and irrelevant but the raw power of it, the sheer dominance, only makes your pleasure sharper.

his fingers thrust deeper, curling inside your soaking cunt, stretching you just right as he pumps them in and out, the slick sounds mingling with your ragged moans. he pulls back for a moment, his lips glistening with your arousal, his eyes dark with hunger as he growls, “missed doing this.”

you moan, your voice thick with need, “i know.” your hips buck toward his face, desperate for more, and he dives back in without hesitation. his tongue lashes at your clit, flicking it in rapid, teasing strokes before he sucks it hard, drawing a cry from your lips. his fingers don’t stop, plunging deeper, faster, the wet squelch of your pussy filling the room as he works you toward the edge. he’s messy, ravenous, his chin drenched with your juices as he licks and sucks, his groans vibrating against your sensitive folds.

he lifts his head just enough to glance at malcom, his voice dripping with mockery. “see, asshole? this is how you please a woman.” his tongue dives back in, lapping at your dripping slit, tracing every fold before sucking your clit again, harder this time, making your back arch off the floor. his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust, sending sparks of pleasure through your core.

malcom’s sobs grow louder, a pathetic wail that cuts through the haze of your pleasure but doesn’t dim it. he’s still slumped on the bed, his tear streaked face twisted in anguish, but he’s nothing. just a shadow in the room as luigi claims you.

luigi doesn’t stop, his tongue relentless, swirling and flicking your clit while his fingers fuck you deeper, the wet sounds obscene as your pussy clenches around him. his lips graze your folds, sucking them softly before diving back to your clit, teasing it with quick, precise licks that make your moans turn to screams. your hands claw at his hair, pulling him closer as your thighs tremble, the edge of release so close you can taste it.

“i’m gonna cum!” you gasp, your voice hoarse, desperate, your pussy clenching around his fingers as the pleasure surges.

luigi’s eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and feral, his lips glistening with your juices. “yeah, cum in my mouth,” he growls, his voice low and hungry. “i want it all.” he dives back in, his tongue lashing at your swollen clit, sucking it hard before flicking it in rapid, teasing strokes.

his fingers pump faster, deeper, curling just right, and the wet sounds of your pussy fill the room as he pushes you over the brink.

your orgasm hits like a tidal wave, a scream tearing from your throat as your body convulses. your pussy spasms around his fingers, gushing as waves of pleasure crash through you, your juices flooding his mouth. luigi moans, his tongue lapping up every drop, greedy and relentless.

he doesn’t stop, his lips sucking your clit softly now, then licking along your slick folds, drinking in every bit of your release. his fingers slow but stay buried inside you, coaxing out the last shudders of your climax as your body trembles, your chest heaving with ragged gasps.

his chin is drenched, glistening with your cum, and he groans again, savoring the taste as he licks you clean, his tongue tracing every sensitive inch of your pulsing cunt.

you collapse back against the floor, your body spent, the afterglow washing over you like a warm tide. luigi stays between your thighs for a moment, his breath hot against your skin as he presses a final, lingering kiss to your clit, making you twitch.

then he shifts, stretching out beside you, his body warm and solid against yours. his hand rests on your thigh, possessive, as you both lie there, the air thick with the scent of sex and the quiet hum of your shared satisfaction. your heart still races, your skin tingling with the memory of his touch, and you can feel the slickness between your legs, the evidence of what he’s done to you.

luigi turns his head, his eyes narrowing as they land on malcom, still slumped on the bed, his face a mess of tears and snot, his crying having now subsided.

his voice cuts through the room, cold and commanding, dripping with disdain. “i think you should get the fuck out of her house and never come back.”

ur all probably gonna read this and be like “palmy what the fuck” but i had to get this out of my system idk😭

tags: @alleviatcd @luigisbambinaaa @diors002 @corrodeddeadlydoll @contrarianshitstan-blog @weegeewifey @mangionesdoll @mangobabygirl @luigisnumber1fan @fligniuz @number1yearner @soulsmangione @ohsorrythen @bbyelle12 @briarloves @mangionesdaisy @thm12 @purplebadd1e @kikigoogoogaga @daydreamingwithluigi

masterlist | previous work

85 notes View Post

luigisbambinaaa

2 months ago

holy hands, unholy acts

notes: wanted to bless you all with this priest luigi oneshot before i go to bed ;) also this is for @luigisbambinaaa since they gave me the idea for it in the first place and also to my other fellow priest luigi fan @fligniuz

warnings: smut, handjob (m) receiving

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

the chapel hums with stillness, the air heavy with the musk of forbidden want as you guide father luigi to a shadowed pew at the rear. his cassock is already bunched up, his thick cock straining against his briefs, twitching as you push him down onto the creaking wood.

his eyes dart to the saints illuminated by the stained glass, then focus on you, pupils wide with shame and craving. your hand slips beneath the cloth, fingers wrapping around his throbbing length, warm and slick with precum, and he stifles a ragged moan, gripping the bible you throw into his shaking hands.

“read to me, father.” you purr, voice oozing with command, your strokes slow and teasing as you glide along his shaft, thumb brushing the swollen, leaking tip. “psalm 51, right now.”

he swallows hard, his adam’s apple jerking, and begins, voice unsteady, “have mercy on me, o god, according to your unfailing love…” his words falter as you squeeze tighter, sliding down his length with deliberate care, drawing a choked whine from his throat. his head tips back, and you pause abruptly, fingers lingering just above his dripping head, leaving him gasping.

“keep going, father. or i’ll stop.” you say, voice low and commanding, watching his cock twitch in the faint light.

he nods, frantic, sweat glistening on his forehead, and presses on, “wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin…” his voice quivers as you resume, stroking with a slow, sinful rhythm, the wet, lewd sound mingling with his broken verses.

he stumbles through, “create in me a pure heart, o god…” hips twitching as you twist your hand, pumping faster, his precum slicking your fingers. he gasps, words failing, and you freeze again, pulling away, leaving him whining, “n-no, please sister!”

“finish it father, be good.” you demand, eyes sharp with dominance, and he scrambles to obey, voice cracking over.

“and my tongue will sing of your righteousness.”

you smirk, rewarding him with a relentless pace, hand racing over his engorged cock until his hips jolt, a raw, desperate cry bursting from him as he cums hot, thick spurts coating your hand, dripping down his shaft. he slumps back, bible hitting the floor, a shattered ruin of guilt and submission in the holy shadows.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

this is not the full fic omg i just had to get this out of my system coz im half asleep and priest luigi WILL NOT LEAVE MY MIND.

previous work

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luigisbambinaaa

1 month ago

why are we all still just as horny for this man as we were in december LOLLLL

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