People Are Saying He’s Going Crazy?? No Honey He’s Resorting To Humor To Distract Himself, All Of

his canine teeth are so sharp…………… just thinking…. ermmmmdkskmdkdkd

fuuuuuuck 😩

MY QUEEN!!!! I am obsessed with your writing 😍😍 pls write friends with benefits/fuck buddy Luigi getting absolutely feral jealous that you went on a date but he feels insane because you guys are not exclusive so he has ‘no right’ to feel such a way but he’s just a hotheaded Italian man when it comes to you 😩😩😌🫦

sports car

summary: you go on a drive with your “fuckbuddy” luigi in his bmw, which ends with a pleasant surprise.

warnings: head (m!receiving) unprotected sex, semi public sex, breeding

notes: the start of this is a teeny tiny bit self indulgent lol

thee restaurant buzzes with low conversation and the clatter of silverware, but you’re barely engaged, nudging a piece of dry salmon across your plate with your fork.

the guy across from you… brad? chad? you’ve already forgotten his name, leans in with a kind of forced familiarity that makes your skin crawl. his presence is heavy, invasive, like he’s trying to fill more space than his body actually occupies.

the grin plastered across his face doesn’t soften anything. it only stretches too far, too tight, like he’s wearing it for effect. his cologne is sharp and overbearing, his eyes, glassy and unblinking, track your every movement with a precision that feels less like interest and more like calculation.

without warning, he veers into a monologue. his voice lowering, turning conspiratorial, as he starts talking about andrew tate. not casually. reverently.

“that guy’s a genius,” he says, grinning like he’s just named a personal hero. “he says what everyone else doesn’t have the guts to say. if you ask me, that’s real powerful. the world needs more men like him.”

you couldn’t fathom what was coming out of his mouth. what the fuck were you doing? you knew that agreeing to go out with this guy was a bad idea.

“you live by yourself?” he probes, the question dressed in a casual tone but heavy with an intrusive edge that sets your nerves on edge.

you end up dodging the question with a vague, “i get by.”

he doesn’t flinch, just gives a slow nod, his fingers tapping too near your side of the table. and the way he mimics your movements… tilting forward when you do, drinking when you drink, feels deliberate, almost stalker like.

suddenly the air between you feels thin, brittle. you force a tight smile, your mind already scanning for an excuse to leave.

you glance at your phone, then get an idea.

you open your text thread with luigi, your chest tightening at the sight of his name. for two months, you’ve been hooked on him, meeting up whenever one of you needs to blow off steam, fucking with reckless abandon wherever the mood strikes.

it started with a chance encounter at a bar, his gorgeous smile and teasing banter pulling you in, leading to you accompanying him on a drive in his bmw. eventually he pulled into a quiet, secluded spot by the beach, diving into the backseat where clothes were torn off in a rush, and he fucked you senseless for the first time.

since then, you’ve found each other again and again, always meeting up whenever you’re horny. you mostly do it somewhere at his place, or his car.

each encounter is a blur of sweat slicked skin, tangled limbs, and gasped curses, leaving you trembling in his arms, your body sated but your heart aching. you’re ashamed to admit that you’re fucking in love with him. but he’s never said it back, and it eats away at you night after night.

that’s why you’re here, enduring this dreadful date, listening to this weirdo go on and on, in a hopeless attempt to move on, to numb the sharp longing for a man who might not love you the way you love him.

your thumb hovers over luigi’s last text, a cheeky “miss me already?” from 3 days ago, and you fight the urge to reply, the candle’s faint glow doing nothing to ease the growing dread of this date or the deeper pain of trying to let go of the man who consumes your thoughts.

you hate feeling like a burden, you absolutely LOATHE the vulnerability of needing to ask for a favour… it makes your stomach twist with embarrassment, like you’re imposing on someone who might resent you for it. but the dude across the table is still staring, his vibe growing darker, and you can’t stay here any longer.

swallowing your pride, you type out a quick text to luigi. your finger lingers over the send button, a wave of self doubt hitting hard as you imagine him sighing at the inconvenience.

you hit send anyway, heart pounding, the candle’s dim light doing little to ease the dread of this date or the nagging fear that you’re asking too much of the man you can’t stop loving.

you: hey… can you come get me? im on a bad date

as soon as the message sends, a surge of regret engulfs you. why did you do that? you mentally berate yourself, your thoughts tumbling into a chaotic frenzy. what the fuck were you thinking? he’s probably busy, out with friends or having a rare night to himself for once, and here you are, thrusting your problems onto him like some needy, burdensome mess.

you picture him reading the text and rolling his eyes, judging you for being too weak to handle a creepy date on your own. what if he’s fed up with you? just because you’ve been having sex with him for two months doesn’t mean that he owes you anything. you should’ve sucked it up and ordered an uber home. anything but pulling luigi into your drama.

your thoughts churn with worst case scenarios: luigi ignoring your text completely, or worse, sending a cold, dismissive “no” that makes it clear you’re not his concern. you imagine him brushing you off, and you know what? you wouldn’t even blame him. why should he drop everything for you?

you stare at your phone, the screen still blank, your stomach knotting with the humiliating realization that you’ve just laid bare how much you need him, when he likely doesn’t give a shit about you like that at all. you’re just someone he hooks up with sometimes, that’s it.

suddenly, your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with a new text from luigi.

luigi: a date??? wtf are you doing on a date???

your heart stumbles, a rush of shock and cautious hope surging through you as you stare at the words on your screen. his message is blunt, cutting through the fog of your spiraling thoughts, and your fingers shake as you grip the phone, caught between relief that he’s responded and dread that this could unravel. why didn’t you just order a fucking uber?

you hesitate, then type out a response, your thumbs unsteady.

you: it’s nothing serious, just dinner. why does it matter?

seconds later, your phone vibrates with his response.

luigi: cus it does. where you at anyway? bet whoever you’re with is some loser lol

the words hit like a playful jab, sharp and teasing, yet laced with something heavier. you glance at your date across the table, his voice now droning on about cryptocurrency, eyes glued to his drink mid rant.

a wry smile tugs at your lips. luigi’s not wrong. your fingers hover over the keyboard, then you type.

you: at amigos. and yeah, he is a loser, and that’s why i need you to come get me

you: happy now?

your phone dings twice, almost instantly, his reply lighting up the screen.

luigi: oh baby, i’m already grabbing my keys

luigi: i’ll come save you soon, better be ready for me

the messages drip with a flirty edge, a promise woven into the tease, and your stomach flips, a grin creeping onto your face as you steal another glance at your date, now staring at you.

you quickly muster an excuse. “i’m so sorry, my mom just texted me, my grandma’s in the hospital, i oughta go down there and be there with her.”

chad… or brad? stares at you, his unnervingly wide grin twisting into a sullen grimace, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. the glint in them dims, replaced by something colder, more petulant.

“fine.” he mutters, his voice a low, gravelly grumble, dripping with annoyance as he leans back in his chair, arms crossing tightly over his chest. his jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he might argue, but instead, he lets out a sharp huff, shoving his chair back with a loud, grating scrape against the polished wood floor.

the sound cuts through the restaurant’s soft hum, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables. without another word, he rises, his broad frame looming briefly as he snatches his jacket from the back of the chair, the fabric rustling angrily. he storms toward the exit, his heavy footsteps thudding with purpose, the glass door swinging open with a jingle before slamming shut behind him.

through the restaurant’s large window, you watch him stride across the dimly lit parking lot, his silhouette sharp against the neon glow of the restaurant’s sign. he yanks open the driver’s side door of his black toyota, the motion jerky and aggressive, and slides inside. the engine roars to life, headlights flaring as he peels out, tires screeching against the asphalt, leaving a faint trail of burnt rubber as he speeds off into the night.

you’re left alone at the table, your heart still pounding from the tension of his presence, but a wave of relief washes over you, the candle’s faint flicker now feeling like a small beacon of calm in the wake of his departure.

you feel as though you’ve just dodged a MAJOR bullet.

taking a deep breath, you steady yourself and glance around the restaurant, the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses grounding you. determined to wrap this up and get out, you catch the eye of a nearby waiter, a young guy with a polite smile, and gesture him over.

“could i get the bill please?” you ask, keeping your voice soft.

he nods and steps away, returning shortly with a glossy black folder containing the bill. you open it, a spark of frustration flaring as you remember chad…?….brad?…or is it actually tad??? promising over text before you even met up that he’d cover dinner, his cocky messages about “treating you right” and about how a woman should “never have to pay for dinner” now feeling like empty bravado now that he’s stormed off without a word.

with a quiet scoff, you slide your credit card into the folder, not bothering to check the total. paying for this disastrous date is a small price to be free of his creepy presence. after a swift transaction and a brief thank you to the waiter, you grab your purse, rise, and smooth your dress, threading through the packed tables toward the exit.

the glass door swings open effortlessly, and you step out, the crisp night air hitting your skin, a refreshing relief from the restaurant’s stifling atmosphere.

entering the parking lot, your eyes scan the dimly lit area, and your heart skips a beat when you spot it… luigi’s red BMW, its glossy paint gleaming under a streetlight, parked near the edge of the lot. the sight of it, bold and familiar, sends a rush of warmth through you, chasing away the last remnants of the date’s unease.

⊹˚✧₊‿︵ʚɞ︵‿₊✧˚⊹

he’s here. he actually came. you clutch your purse tighter, a small smile tugging at your lips as you start walking toward the car, the sound of your heels clicking against the concrete, mingling with the sound of the nearby passing traffic.

as you get closer, luigi’s gaze locks onto you through his windshield, his eyes raking over you with unapologetic hunger, tracing the way your dress molds to every curve of your body. your hips, your waist, your chest… before slowly climbing back to your face.

the stare is brazen, smoldering, and it ignites a tingling heat that blooms across your skin, defying the crisp bite of the night air. you reach the passenger side, fingers curling around the cool metal handle, and swing the door open, sliding into the leather seat that cradles you like a lover’s embrace. as you settle in, luigi lets out a slow, appreciative whistle, the sound low and deliberate.

his head tilts, tongue pressing firmly against the inside of his cheek in that cheeky, teasing gesture that screams confidence and flirtation, his dark eyes glinting with a wicked spark as he drinks you in up close.

“damn…” he drawls, voice rich and smooth as molten honey, each syllable laced with a weight that sends your pulse into a wild sprint.

a shy blush creeps up your cheeks, warm and betraying, as his words and that brazen look settle over you. you shift in the seat, trying to play it cool, but the heat in your face gives you away.

“what?” you reply, your voice light but tinged with a nervous laugh, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your purse as you meet his gaze.

luigi leans back, one hand resting casually on the steering wheel, his eyes still roaming you with playful mischief. “this is the hottest i’ve ever seen you look,” he says, his tone teasing but warm, a grin tugging at his lips. “you went all out to go to dinner with that asshole? i’m the one who’s been fucking you for almost 2 months, and you’ve never dressed up this much for me.”

his words carry a mock pout, but the laughter in his voice and the way his eyes crinkle with amusement show he’s having fun with it, clearly relishing in how good you look tonight while still managing to tease you.

you tilt your head, a playful smirk curling your lips as you lean slightly toward him, your voice dipping into a teasing lilt. “well next time i’ll show up in my tightest, shortest dress.” you say, letting the words linger, your eyes locking with his, a spark of challenge in your gaze as you raise an eyebrow.

luigi’s grin widens, his eyes glinting with delight. “i wouldn’t complain.” he shoots back, his tone warm and flirtatious, the laughter still threading through his voice as he holds your gaze, the air between you charged with a familiar, electric pull.

before you can respond, he leans over the center console, closing the distance between you. his hand finds the side of your face, fingers brushing your cheek as he pulls you into a kiss. his lips are warm, firm, and hungry, moving against yours with a slow, deliberate intensity that makes your breath catch.

the kiss deepens quickly, his tongue slipping past your lips, teasing and exploring as it tangles with yours in a slick, heated dance. his stubble grazes your skin, a faint, delicious roughness, and the faint taste of mint from his gum lingers, mixing with the raw, masculine scent of him that fills your senses.

when he pulls back, his eyes linger on yours, a soft, knowing look passing between you. your lips tingle, still buzzing from the kiss, and a flutter of butterflies dances in your stomach, the intimacy of the moment leaving you both grounded and dizzy with want. you’re acutely aware of how much you’ve missed this, missed him, and the realization only deepens the ache of your feelings for him.

luigi settles back into his seat, a faint, satisfied smile playing on his lips. he turns the key in the ignition, the car’s engine purring to life with a low, throaty hum. with a quick glance over his shoulder, he shifts into gear and pulls out of the parking lot, the red car gliding smoothly away from the restaurant, the glow of its neon sign fading in the rearview mirror as you leave the disastrous date behind.

the city lights flash by in streaks of gold and white as he drives, the car navigating the road’s gentle curves with effortless grace. the low thrum of the engine and the rhythmic hum of tires on asphalt create a soothing bubble, a stark contrast to the suffocating tension of the restaurant. his left hand rests casually on the steering wheel, guiding the car with easy confidence, while his right hand drifts to your thigh, settling there with a warm, intentional weight.

his palm presses against the thin fabric of your dress, the heat of his skin radiating through, and his fingers splay slightly, the tips grazing the soft, sensitive skin just above your knee. the touch is both possessive and gentle, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles that send a quiet thrill through you, each small movement sparking a tingling warmth that pools in your core.

the faint roughness of his fingertips, calloused from work, contrasts with the smoothness of your thigh, anchoring you in the moment while stoking a slow burning desire. his grip tightens briefly as he rounds a corner, the subtle pressure sending a jolt of awareness through your body, and you catch the faintest quirk of his lips, as if he’s fully aware of the effect he’s having.

“so…” luigi says, his voice low and casual, though there’s a curious edge to it as he keeps his eyes on the road. “who was this guy you were having dinner with? some wannabe hotshot?”

his tone is light, teasing, but there’s a hint of something sharper beneath it, maybe jealousy, maybe just genuine interest. his hand stays on your thigh, thumb still circling, the touch grounding you even as his question pulls your mind back to the creep you’d rather forget. “i mean, you got all dressed up like that for him…” he adds, glancing at you briefly, his dark eyes flicking over your dress before returning to the road, a playful challenge in his expression.

the car cruises steadily, the city unfolding around you, but with his hand on you and his voice drawing you in, the world outside feels distant, the focus narrowing to the space between you.

you roll your eyes, a frustrated huff escaping as you slump back in the leather seat, the memory of the date reigniting your irritation. “ugh, don’t even, he was the fucking WORST,” you groan, crossing your arms, your voice dripping with exasperation. “some wannabe sigma crypto bro who wouldn’t shut up about “dominating the market” or whatever the fuck and how he’s, like, hacking the blockchain or whatever. kept bragging about his ‘gains’ and how he’s ‘not like other guys.’ oh, AND he left without paying, so i had to pay for dinner.”

you shake your head, annoyance flaring as you picture that asshole’s smug smirk and eerie gaze. luigi’s hand on your thigh is a grounding force, calming your rant, his thumb still drawing slow, tantalizing circles that spark a quiet heat beneath your aggravation.

a low chuckle from him breaks through your thoughts, the sound warm and amused. you whip your head toward him, one eyebrow arched, your voice a mix of teasing and irritation.

“are you giving me attitude?” you ask, half playful, half annoyed, fixing him with a look as you wait for an explanation.

luigi’s chuckle deepens, his eyes glinting with mischief as he keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other still resting on your thigh, his thumb tracing those slow, deliberate circles that keep a faint heat simmering under your skin.

“i just think it’s hilarious,” he says, his voice low and teasing, a playful edge to it as he glances at you briefly before focusing back on the road.

“you’re out here getting this phd from me, and yet you’re stuck at some fancy dinner with a wannabe crypto loser who probably couldn’t even find the clit with a map.” he laughs again, the sound rich and unapologetic, clearly enjoying the absurdity of it.

“like, come on, baby, you’re slumming it with that guy when you’ve got me on speed dial?” his tone is light, cocky but not cruel, and the way his fingers give your thigh a gentle squeeze underscores the playful possessiveness in his words.

the city lights streak by as the car cruises smoothly, and despite your lingering frustration from the date, his teasing and that warm, steady hand on you start to pull a reluctant smile to your lips.

your heart rate quickens at his words, a glimmer of hope flickering deep inside… does he care that you were out with someone else? could he actually be jealous? the thought sends a rush through you, your feelings for him, unspoken and hidden, surging with a quiet ache. but you shove it down, feigning nonchalance as you shift in the plush leather seat, tossing him a sidelong glance with a carefully crafted smirk.

“hey, i’ve got my own life,” you say, voice cool but laced with a playful edge, shrugging slightly. “we’re not exclusive, luigi. you made that clear from the jump, remember? no strings, just fun, that was the rule that we agreed on.”

your words are sharp enough to remind him of the boundaries he set when you first started fucking, but your casual tone masks the pang in your chest, the longing for him to want more. his hand stills on your thigh for a beat, the circling thumb pausing, and you catch a fleeting shift in his expression, maybe surprise, maybe something deeper, as he keeps his gaze on the road, while clenching his jaw.

luigi stays silent for a moment, the engine’s soft hum filling the void. then he speaks, his voice quieter now, stripped of its usual playful edge, laced with a vulnerability that makes your breath falter.

“you know,” he begins, still staring straight ahead, “it gets to me, thinking about you with other guys. going out with them, fucking them, or even just… sitting through dinner with some asshole.” he falters, his grip on your thigh tightening just a bit, not possessive but almost instinctual, like he’s steadying himself.

“i’m the one who said no strings, keep it chill. but picturing you with someone else? it hurts way more than i thought it would.” his confession is soft, almost hesitant, as if he’s grappling with the weight of it, and the rawness in his tone sends your heart racing, that faint spark of hope you felt earlier flaring into something brighter.

he shifts gears, the car picking up speed as he guides it away from the city’s vibrant lights, taking the twisting roads toward the lake. the urban sprawl fades into darker, emptier streets, the scenery opening up as the road stretches toward the water’s edge.

his hand stays on your thigh, warm and steady, but his jaw remains taut, his gaze fixed on the road, hinting at an inner conflict. the city’s hum recedes, replaced by the distant whisper of the lake, and his words hang heavily in the air, leaving you caught between the thrill of his admission and the uncertainty of what it might mean for the two of you.

you shift slightly in your seat, his unexpected vulnerability stirring a mix of emotions, hope, nervousness, desire. the road stretches darker now, the city lights long gone, and curiosity nudges you to break the silence.

“where are we going?” you ask, your voice soft but tinged with playful curiosity, glancing at his profile, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the faint glow of the dashboard.

luigi’s lips quirk into a small, knowing smile, his eyes still on the road as he replies, “where do you think? we’re headed to our usual spot.” his voice is low, carrying a familiar teasing edge, but there’s a warmth beneath it that makes your pulse quicken, the implication of “our spot” sending a rush to your core.

he steers the car down a familiar narrow road, the pavement giving way to a gravel path that crunches under the tires. the lake comes into view, its surface shimmering faintly under the moonlight, framed by dense trees that create a secluded cocoon.

he pulls into the quiet clearing by the water’s edge, the same spot you’ve been to countless times before, where the world feels like it belongs only to the two of you. the car rolls to a stop, the engine’s hum fading as he cuts the ignition, leaving the soft lapping of the lake and the distant chirp of crickets to fill the silence.

he shifts in his seat, turning to face you, his eyes catching yours, moonlight highlighting the depth in his gaze.

“these last two months,” luigi begins, his voice softer now, laced with a raw honesty that makes your heart skip. “they’ve been the happiest of my life. no joke.”

he hesitates, his thumb now grazing your hand lightly, a rare nervous tic from him. “it’s not just the sex… although i will say, it’s been the best sex i’ve had in my life. it’s… you. hanging out, laughing, just… being together. it’s hit me different. and lately, i’ve been feeling like… i want more than just this no strings thing we’ve been doing.”

he continues. “you’re sweet, funny, kind, beautiful… the whole package. but i can’t keep doing this casual shit. it’s not right for you, and it’s tearing me up. i want us to be official. you and me, together, for real.”

⊹˚✧₊‿︵ʚɞ︵‿₊✧˚⊹

that does it for you.

you lean over the center console, your dress shifting slightly as you move, and your fingers find his belt, the cool metal buckle clicking softly as you deftly undo it. the sound is sharp in the quiet car, charged with intent. luigi’s eyes widen for a split second, a flicker of surprise giving way to a hungry understanding as he catches on.

he shifts in his seat, his hands moving quickly to help, tugging his trousers down with a rustle of fabric. the waistband slides past his hips, revealing the tight grey calvin kleins clinging to his thighs, the fabric stretched taut over his growing bulge, the outline of his cock already thick and prominent, straining against the cotton.

a faint sheen of precum darkens a small patch near the tip, betraying his arousal, and the sight sends a jolt of desire through you, your mouth watering, your core clenching with need. his thighs, muscular and dusted with dark hair, flex slightly as he adjusts, the air between you crackling with anticipation, the intimacy of the moment amplified by the quiet lapping of the lake outside.

you lean across the center console, your dress riding up slightly, and lock eyes with him, your voice low and commanding, dripping with need.

“underwear off. now.”

luigi’s eyes spark with surprise, then amusement, a deep, warm laugh spilling from him, the sound rich and filling the car. “you’re even hornier than usual,” he says, his tone laced with playful awe, a grin spreading across his face. “are you ovulating?”

his laugh is teasing, but the fire in his gaze matches yours, his pupils dilated as he reads the desire in your expression. he doesn’t hesitate long, already moving to comply, but first, he closes the distance between you.

his lips crash into yours, hot and insistent, the kiss immediately deep and consuming. his tongue slips past your lips, tangling with yours in a slick, fervent dance, carrying a hint of mint and his own unique taste. one hand cups your jaw, fingers steady yet gentle, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, while his other hand fumbles with the waistband of his underwear.

the fabric shifts as he pulls them down, the tight cotton catching briefly on his erection before sliding past his hips, freeing his cock. it stands thick and heavy, the swollen tip glistening with precum, veins pulsing along the shaft, and though you’re lost in the kiss, the knowledge of his exposure sends a fresh wave of want through you.

his stubble scrapes your skin, a thrilling roughness, and his low groan vibrates against your lips as he slides the underwear off completely, leaving him bare from the waist down. the kiss grows messier, more desperate, teeth grazing, breaths mingling, his hand moving from your jaw to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he can’t get enough.

the car feels smaller, the lake’s quiet whispers fading against the pounding of your heart and the intense, electric connection of his mouth on yours, his nakedness only amplifying the urgent heat between you.

you break the kiss abruptly, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, dark and heavy with lust. without a word, you shift over the center console, your dress hiking up as you lean down, your breath hot against his skin. his cock stands rigid, the flushed tip slick with precum, and you pause for a moment, letting the anticipation build.

then, you press a slow, deliberate kiss to the sensitive head, your lips brushing the smooth, velvety skin, tasting the salty tang of his arousal. luigi lets out a surprised moan, a low sound that reverberates through the car, his hips twitching involuntarily at the sudden contact.

but you don’t stop there. your lips part, and you slowly take him into your mouth, inch by torturous inch. the thick, pulsing heat of his cock fills you, the weight of him heavy on your tongue as you slide down, feeling every ridge and vein against your lips.

then swollen head presses against the roof of your mouth, slick with precum, and you hollow your cheeks, creating a tight, wet suction as you begin to suck him off. your tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the sensitive slit, then flattens along the underside, tracing the throbbing vein as you take him deeper, your lips stretching to accommodate his girth.

the musky scent of him, mixed with the faint leather of the car, floods your senses, driving your desire higher. you move slowly at first, savoring the way he fills your mouth, the way his body responds, his thighs tensing, his hands gripping the edges of the seat.

another moan escapes him, louder this time, a ragged “fuck” slipping out as he watches you, his breath hitching in surprise and pleasure, the sound spurring you on as you work him with deliberate, hungry precision, the secluded lake outside forgotten in the haze of this moment.

luigi’s thighs tense under your touch, his muscles flexing as he shifts slightly in the driver’s seat, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. his hand finds your hair, fingers threading through the strands with a gentle but firm grip, not forcing but guiding, urging you closer. “my girl… my baby…” he moans, his voice low and ragged, dripping with pleasure as he watches you.

“so beautiful… making me feel so good.” his words are sweet, murmured nothings that spill out between moans, each one stoking the fire in your core. he gently pushes your head down, encouraging you to take him deeper, his touch careful but laced with need. the pressure sends a thrill through you, your throat relaxing to accommodate more of him, the stretch of your lips around his girth making your jaw ache in the best way.

you pick up the pace, your mouth gliding over his cock, wet and slick with your saliva and his precum. the head bumps the back of your throat with each downward motion, and you swallow around him, the tight constriction drawing a louder moan from him, a desperate “just like that, you’re sucking my cock so fucking good.”

your tongue flicks and swirls, lavishing attention on the sensitive underside before circling the tip again, sucking harder, the wet suction loud in the confined space of the car. his fingers tighten in your hair, not rough but possessive, his hips twitching upward slightly, chasing the heat of your mouth. “y’look like a fucking angel…” he groans, his voice breaking with pleasure, the sweet praise mingling with the raw edge of his moans.

his other hand grips the edge of the seat, knuckles whitening, as he fights to stay in control, but the way his cock throbs in your mouth, pulsing with every suck, tells you he’s unraveling. the moonlight filters through the windows, casting soft shadows across his tense frame, and the intimacy of the moment, his hand in your hair, his moaned affirmations, the lake’s quiet seclusion, heightens the electric connection, driving you to please him even more.

you let out a soft moan around his length, the vibration humming through him, your own arousal spiking as you feel him twitch in response. the sound is muffled but needy, your core aching at the thought of driving him wild, your dress riding up as you lean further over the center console. your jaw aches deliciously from his girth, but you don’t slow down, bobbing your head faster, taking him deeper until the tip brushes the back of your throat.

you swallow around him, the tight squeeze pulling another ragged moan from him, his fingers tightening in your hair as his hips buck slightly, chasing the heat of your mouth. “i-i’m getting close,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pleasure.

but then, his hand shifts, releasing your hair to tap lightly on the top of your head, a gentle but urgent signal.

“stop.” he says, his voice hoarse, laced with a desperate edge. you pause, pulling back slowly, your lips glistening as you look up at him, his cock still hard and slick, twitching in the cool air. his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with lust, and he flashes a heated, almost predatory grin.

“get on my lap.” he rasps, his tone leaving no room for argument. “i wanna cum inside that pretty little cunt.”

the sheer bluntness of his words hits you like a shockwave, your body responding instantly, a rush of wetness soaking your panties as you nod, already moving to climb over the console, eager to give him exactly what he wants in the moonlit seclusion of your lakeside spot.

you move swiftly, climbing over the center console, your dress snagging briefly on the leather seat. you straddle his lap, knees framing his hips in the tight driver’s seat, moonlight flooding through the BMW’s windows, casting a silvery sheen over you both. your hands work fast, yanking up your dress, the fabric bunching at your waist to reveal the delicate black lace panties hugging your skin.

your fingers tug the material aside, exposing your pussy, slick, swollen, and dripping, the glistening folds catching the light, your clit throbbing with anticipation.

luigi’s gaze drops to your cunt, and a deep, primal groan escapes him, his cock jerking against his abdomen. “jesus fuck…” he mutters, hands clamping onto your hips, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he stares at your soaked, parted lips, your juices dripping down your inner thigh in a glistening trail.

“so perfect, it’s practically screaming for me.” his voice drips with hunger, and before you can react, his hand darts forward, delivering a sharp, deliberate slap to your clit.

the sudden sting sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and you squeal, your body jerking as you gasp, “luigi!” your voice is a mix of surprise and needy whining, your core throbbing at the unexpected sensation, wetness pooling even more.

he just laughs, low and heated, his eyes locked on yours. “sweet girl, cmon, give me a kiss.” he says, voice softer but thick with lust, drawing you in. you lean forward, lips colliding with his, the kiss instantly deep and messy, tongues tangling in a fervent, sloppy dance. his mouth is hot, tasting of mint. one hand presses against your back, pulling you closer, while the other grips your hip, guiding you as your slick pussy grazes his cock, the brief contact drawing moans from both of you into the kiss.

the weight of your emotions his admission, this moment… overwhelms you. you pull back from the kiss, chest heaving, and look into his eyes. “i love you.” you breathe, the words spilling out raw and unguarded, your voice shaky with the truth you’ve kept buried. your heart pounds, exposed, but the way his eyes soften, the way his breath catches, makes it feel right.

luigi lets out a deep, needy groan, his hands tightening on your hips like he’s anchoring himself. “shit,” he rasps, voice heavy with feeling. “turn around, i want your back against my chest.” his tone is a heated order, sending a shiver through you. you comply, shifting in his lap to face away, your dress still bunched at your waist, panties pulled aside, your dripping pussy exposed and practically calling out his name.

you lean back, your back molding to the hard planes of his chest, the heat of his skin seeping through his shirt, his cock pressing against your entrance, thick and throbbing. his hands slide to your hips, steadying you, his breath hot against your neck as the lake’s soft murmurs fade.

your dress stays hiked up around your waist, panties tugged aside, your soaked pussy bare. his cock nudges your entrance, thick and pulsing, the flushed tip grazing your wet lips, sending a tremor of need through you. the lake’s gentle murmurs outside fade into the background.

his lips brush your neck, hot and intentional, landing a slow, wet kiss on the delicate skin just beneath your ear. the touch is searing, his breath warm and tantalizing, and then his tongue darts out, tracing the sensitive spot with a deliberate, lingering lick. a soft moan spills from you, primal and unrestrained, your head tipping to offer him more as your body instinctively arches into him. the slick heat of his mouth sends shivers of pleasure cascading through you, your core tightening, your pussy juices dripping in a glossy trail down your inner thighs.

luigi’s mouth closes over the spot, sucking softly at first, then with more force, his teeth lightly scraping as he marks you. his hand moves from your hip to your pussy, fingers zeroing in on your engorged clit with effortless precision. he begins rubbing in tight, deliberate circles, his rough fingertips slick with your wetness, teasing the sensitive bud with maddening accuracy.

the dual assault is intoxicating, his lips and teeth working your neck, sucking hard to leave a dark, tender hickey, while his fingers stroke your clit with unrelenting focus.

your hips jerk against his hand, a louder moan tearing from your throat, the pleasure surging as his touch pushes you toward the brink. the hickey pulses with a faint sting, a bold claim that makes your heart pound, your pussy clenching under his fingers, each circle sending sharp waves of heat through your body.

“you’re fucking drenched,” he growls against your neck, voice hoarse and thick, rumbling against your skin as he licks the fresh hickey, easing the sensitive mark. “need to get you ready for my cock.”

his fingers pick up speed, pressing harder against your clit, the wet, obscene sounds of your arousal blending with your breathless moans and the faint groan of the leather seat. your thighs quiver, splayed wide across his lap, your body sinking into his chest as he drives you wild, the combination of his sucking mouth and merciless fingers pulling you closer to the edge.

without warning, luigi’s hand leaves your clit, gripping your hip as he shifts beneath you. in one swift, ruthless motion, he thrusts upward, his cock plunging into your dripping cunt, bottoming out with a single, deep stroke. the sudden stretch is overwhelming, his thick shaft splits you open, filling you completely, the pulsing veins and swollen head dragging against your slick walls with a searing intensity.

you cry out, a sharp, “oh lu!” tearing from your lips, your body jolting against his chest as the pleasure-pain of his intrusion sends a shockwave through you. your pussy clenches around him, gripping his cock so firmly, every inch of him buried so deep you feel him pressing against your cervix, the fullness almost too much.

“so fucking tight…” he groans, his voice a low, guttural rasp against your ear, thick with lust. his hands clamp onto your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he holds you in place, letting you adjust to the brutal stretch. “this pussy was made for me, yeah, hear me?” his words are filthy, possessive, and they ignite a fresh wave of arousal, your walls fluttering around his cock, slick and hot.

he doesn’t move yet, savoring the way you’re stretched around him, your juices coating his shaft, dripping down to his balls, pooling on the leather seat beneath you.

you whimper, your hands scrambling for purchase, one gripping his thigh, the other reaching back to clutch at his shirt. “baby… fuck, you’re so big…” you gasp, your voice trembling with need, your hips twitching instinctively, desperate for friction.

the fullness is dizzying, his cock throbbing inside you, every pulse sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. your clit aches, still sensitive from his fingers, and the hickey on your neck pulses with a faint sting, amplifying the sensory overload.

he snickers darkly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his breath hot and teasing. “you love it, don’t you? love how i fill you up.” he murmurs, one hand sliding up to cup your breast through your dress, his thumb grazing your hardened nipple, making you moan again. slowly, he starts to move, pulling out just an inch before slamming back in, the wet, obscene squelch of your pussy taking him echoing in the car.

“fuck, listen to that… so wet… and all for me.” he growls, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he sets a deliberate, punishing pace, each thrust deep and hard, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls, hitting spots that make your vision blur.

you moan loudly, your head falling back against his shoulder, your body rocking with every thrust. “yes, yes, fuck luigi!” you cry, your voice breaking as he fucks you relentlessly, the car rocking slightly with the force of his movements. your pussy grips him tighter, the slick friction driving you wild, your arousal coating his cock, making each thrust smoother, deeper.

his hand on your hip guides you, lifting you slightly before pulling you down to meet his thrusts, the angle letting him hit your g spot with devastating precision. “don’t stop… please!” you beg, your nails digging into his thigh, the pleasure building so fast it’s almost unbearable.

“stop? no fucking way,” he groans, his lips finding your neck again, kissing the hickey he left before sucking on a new spot, his teeth grazing your skin. “gonna fuck you till you can’t think straight.” his other hand snakes back to your clit, fingers finding the swollen bud and rubbing in tight, fast circles, the added stimulation making you scream, your thighs trembling as you teeter on the edge.

your pussy milks him with every thrust, the wet, sloppy sounds of your bodies colliding filling the car, drowning out the lake’s whispers. his cock pulses inside you, thick and relentless, the head battering your deepest spots, and you feel the coil in your core tightening, ready to snap.

“baby… i’m so close,” you whimper, your voice ragged, your body shaking as he pounds into you, his fingers relentless on your clit, his lips sucking another dark mark onto your neck. the pleasure is overwhelming, a tidal wave threatening to crash, your love for him mixing with the raw physicality of the moment, making every sensation sharper, more intense.

“oh baby, let go for me,” he rasps, his voice strained, his thrusts growing harder, more erratic, his cock throbbing inside you as he chases his own release. “cum all over my cock… wanna feel that perfect cunt squeeze me.” his words push you over the edge, and with a final, desperate moan, your orgasm hits, your pussy clamping down on him, waves of pleasure crashing through you as you tremble in his lap, your juices gushing around his cock, soaking his thighs and the seat below.

but he doesn’t stop. his hands grip your hips tighter, fingers digging into your flesh as he keeps fucking you, his cock slamming into your oversensitive pussy with relentless, punishing thrusts. each stroke drags against your spasming walls, his tip battering your g spot, sending jolts of overstimulation through your already trembling body.

you’re loud now, uncontrollably so, your moans turning into high pitched cries and gasps, each one spilling out louder than the last. “fuck, it’s too much!” you whimper, your voice breaking, your hands clutching at his thighs, nails scraping the flesh as you squirm in his lap.

“you sound so beautiful,” he groans, his voice low and ragged, his breath hot against your neck as he pounds into you, chasing his release. “wish i was recording right now… you’re gonna make me cum baby.” his hips snap up, the wet slap of his cock plunging into your drenched cunt echoing in the car, mixing with your desperate cries and his own guttural moans.

his thrusts are frantic now, his cock throbbing harder, the veins pulsing against your walls as he nears the edge. “fucking incredible,” he growls, one hand sliding up to grip your waist, holding you in place as he fucks you deeper, the car rocking with the force of his movements.

your body shakes, oversensitive and overwhelmed, your pussy clenching involuntarily around him with every thrust, drawing out more slick, your thighs soaked and trembling. “luigi, please!” you cry, not even sure what you’re begging for, your voice hoarse, your head thrown back against his shoulder as you ride the razor’s edge of too much pleasure. the hickey on your neck throbs faintly, a reminder of his claim, and your clit pulses, untouched but aching from the intensity of his cock filling you so completely.

“gonna cum,” he moans, his voice breaking, his thrusts growing sloppy but no less forceful. “gonna fill that pretty pussy up… fuck, baby.” with a final, deep thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing violently as he cums inside you. hot, thick spurts of his cum flood your pussy, coating your walls, the warmth spreading deep as he groans loudly, his hips jerking with each wave of his release.

you feel every pulse, every gush, the sensation pushing another overwhelmed whimper from your lips as your pussy clenches around him, drinking in every drop. his cum mixes with your juices, leaking out around his cock, dripping down his balls and onto the seat, a sticky, filthy mess that marks the intensity of the moment.

both of you are panting, your breaths ragged and uneven, filling the BMW’s confined space. luigi’s chest heaves against your back, his heart pounding so hard you can feel it through his shirt. his hands, still on your hips, soften their grip, his fingers brushing your skin gently as he catches his breath.

the air is thick with the scent of sex and leather, the lake’s quiet ripples outside barely audible over your shared gasps. slowly, he shifts beneath you, his softening cock still inside, and his voice breaks the silence, low and tender. “let me look at you.”he murmurs, his tone soft but insistent, carrying a warmth that makes your heart skip.

you nod, still dazed, and with his help, you carefully lift yourself off his lap, his cock slipping free with a wet sound, more of his cum and your slick dripping down your thighs. he guides you to turn around, your dress still bunched at your waist, panties askew, as you maneuver in the tight driver’s seat to face him.

your knees settle on either side of his hips again, your bodies close in the cramped space, the moonlight casting soft shadows across his face. his dark eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of adoration and intensity, and his hands move to cup your cheeks, his thumbs brushing gently over your flushed skin.

luigi leans in, pressing a slow, tender kiss to your forehead, the gesture so intimate it makes your chest ache. his lips linger there, warm and grounding, before he pulls you into a tight hug, your face nestling into the crook of his neck, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid to let go. the heat of his body, the steady thump of his heartbeat, grounds you, and you melt into him, your arms looping around his shoulders.

“i love you.” he says, his voice quiet but firm, the words vibrating against your skin, carrying a certainty that sends a wave of warmth through you. “i mean it, baby. i love you.”

your heart soars, the love you’ve held back for months now mirrored in his confession, and you press yourself closer, savoring the safety of his embrace. he pulls back just enough to look at you again, his hands still cradling your face, his eyes searching yours with a soft, unguarded affection.

“let’s go back to my place,” he says, a gentle smile tugging at his lips, his voice low and inviting. “wanna be with you tonight… just us.” the promise in his words, coupled with the lingering heat of your shared release and the quiet intimacy of the lake’s seclusion, makes the idea of being alone with him, in the comfort of his bed, feel like the perfect next step.

🎀…ONE MONTH LATER…. 🎀

lately, something’s been off. you’ve been exhausted, far beyond your usual tiredness, your body feeling heavy and sluggish even after a full night’s sleep. your appetite’s been unpredictable, some days ravenous, others repulsed by foods you used to love.

nausea creeps up at odd times, a queasy wave that hits you in the morning or when you smell coffee. and your emotions? they’re all over the place, swinging from joy to tears in moments, leaving you reeling. you’ve brushed it off as stress or maybe a bug, but a nagging thought has started to take root, one you haven’t dared voice aloud.

you’re standing in the small, fluorescent-lit bathroom at work, the door locked, your heart pounding so loud it drowns out the hum of the ventilation. sure enough, in your trembling hand is a plastic stick, its small window displaying two unmistakable pink lines. a positive pregnancy test.

soooo… do we keep the baby?

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

oh my goddddd 😣😣😣😣😣

omg okay imagine this: you’re pregnant and you’re in that part of the pregnancy where your milk starts coming in and you do notice but do not say anything. since you and Luigi are horn dogs, even more so after you’ve become pregnant, one day you’re riding him slowly in bed. Like, he came home from work, you fed him dinner, he massaged your feet while talking about his day and y’all move to the bedroom….. and now you’re bouncing on his lap. And of course he’s got his hands and mouth all over your tits. He has been sucking on them for so long that suddenly, he feels something wet in his mouth and he’s like???? then you both look down to see that you’ve started leaking and you’re like 🫢 but he’s so gone that you feel his cock twitch inside you and he goes back to sucking on your boobs even harder.

You’re dumbfounded and aroused (ofc) and go, “Luigi what..😧”

And he’s just looking up at you all doe-eyed and innocent, all the while sucking on your nipples with a little bit of milk over his mouth

(I’m going to hell for this, forgive me lord)

GIRL ILY FOR THIS

omfg im literally insane i’ve thought so many times about riding him while you’re pregnant and he’s tasting your milk😣😣😣 oh my god

AND HES LOOKING UP AT U LIKE THIS😣😣 GUYS

can i just say i had a dream i was trying to escape a toxic ex bf in nyc and my friend told me they knew someone that was good at disappearing and i met luigi in my dream and as we were leaving he was so set on stopping by Dunkin’ Donuts and while we were in there i was like yeah dude i see why you got arrested in McDonald’s the first time and he told me to shut up lmaoooo

how are y’all dreaming about him pls let me know 😭🙏🏻 I wanna be part of the club too cuz wdym I’ve been down bad for this man for the better part of the year and still haven’t had a dream yet???

lol literally like wtf... im having fomo

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

😩😩😩😩

Wrong Time, Right Place

Pt1.

The last time she’d been in the Mangione house, she was nine, and someone had dared her to jump off the diving board.

She didn’t. She stood at the edge of the pool for what felt like an hour, heart hammering in her chest, goggles too tight against her face. Kathleen was laughing from the kitchen window, Luciana was sunbathing like a goddess on a striped towel, and Maria Santa had already done a backflip and was begging someone to “hurry up and go.”

She remembered Luigi too. Not as a boy she really knew—but as the kid who fixed things. Always barefoot, always squinting at something broken. He was quiet back then. Soft-spoken. Always carrying some piece of a gadget around with him. At some point that summer, he helped her dig a caterpillar out of a net and didn’t make fun of her when she cried. That was all she remembered. That, and the way the Mangione house smelled like lemon and rosemary, even when it rained.

Now she was 19, and back on that same porch. Only this time, she wasn’t here to swim or laugh or prove anything. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She wasn’t even sure who she was lately. The door opened before she could knock. Her mom was already inside, calling out greetings like she’d never left. It was early summer, just past five, and Baltimore’s air had that heavy warmth to it, like the heat was sinking into the wood and staying there. She stood on the welcome mat with her duffel bag and her tote sliding off her shoulder, hair pulled into a lazy braid, lips dry, skin tight from the drive.

“Come on,” her mom called gently, waving her in. “Don’t just stand there.”

She stepped inside, and it hit her like it always did. The smell. Garlic and oil. Faint citrus. Something sweet baking in the oven. And the music, some old Italian record humming low from the dining room stereo, like the whole house had a pulse. For a second, her body didn’t know how to relax. It had been on edge for weeks. Finals. Projects. A roommate breakup that wasn’t even romantic but still felt like one. And the boy.

God. The boy. The one who kissed her like she was a secret and left her like one too.She hadn’t cried about him. Not really. But she hadn’t slept much since, either.bAnd now here she was. In a house she barely remembered but always missed. Kathleen appeared first, wiping her hands on a towel, smiling like she meant it. “You’re taller.”

“I’m literally the same height,” she said, setting her bag down. But her face cracked into a grin anyway.Kathleen pulled her in. It wasn’t one of those fake hugs. It was real, warm, tight, like she hadn’t just seen her grow up through Instagram. “I’m so happy you’re here,” she said into her hair. “You’re staying as long as you need. Okay? No pressure to be anything.”

That almost made her cry. She blinked it back. The kitchen was chaos in the best way. Luciana was barefoot on the counter, swiping wine from a bottle and yelling about how someone stole her favorite candle. Maria Santa was chopping tomatoes with a toddler balanced on her hip, pretending she wasn’t doing three things at once. Her mom was already laughing with Louis, Luigi’s dad, who was by the stove stirring a pot of red sauce and shaking his head fondly at the noise around him.

“This house,” her mom muttered, squeezing her shoulder, “I swear, it hasn’t changed since we were your age.”

And for the first time in weeks, she smiled and meant it.

~~~~~~~~~~~

They gave her Luciana’s old room. The one with the yellow walls and the creaky fan. It smelled like rose water and faded perfume. There was a bookshelf by the bed with random paperbacks and one photo of the three siblings taped to the wall—Luigi, Maria Santa, and Luciana, probably in high school, grinning at something off-camera. She unpacked slowly, half-listening to the sound of voices downstairs. Her mom had wandered off to help with something in the backyard. The Mangione sisters were still in the kitchen bickering like it was a sport. It was nice. No one was asking her to perform. No one was demanding to know how she was doing or expecting her to talk about school. She was just here. And that was enough for now. When she came back down, it was golden hour. Light spilling through the windows, Luciana now dancing in the dining room with a half-drunk glass of wine, Maria Santa setting the table, Kathleen humming along to the music with a dish towel slung over her shoulder.

“There she is,” Luciana called out. “We were about to send a search party.”

“She was unpacking,” Maria Santa said, smiling at her softly. “Let her breathe.”

“She can breathe while chopping basil,” Luciana joked, already pulling her by the wrist into the kitchen.

They handed her a cutting board and made room for her at the island. It was loud. Lively. Plates clattered, someone opened a bottle too fast and sprayed the counter, and Kathleen shooed everyone away from the oven like she had secrets to protect.

“You look so much like your mom,” Maria Santa said, dicing garlic. “But your mouth is all your dad’s. Sharp.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Luciana gasped. “She talks back! I love her.”

“She’s not quiet anymore,” Kathleen said proudly, pouring olive oil into a skillet. “She’s got fire now.”

She blushed a little. But it felt good. It felt like being seen.She wasn’t used to people celebrating the parts of her she didn’t have to hide. The back door creaked open, letting in the faint sound of cicadas and the warm breath of early evening air. The kitchen was already buzzing,Maria Santa stirring something on the stove, Luciana holding court with a glass of wine, and Kathleen rummaging through the fridge with her whole body like she was wrestling it.

She didn’t notice him right away. Not until Kathleen called out, casually, “Lu, tell your father to stop poking the sausages. They need to sear, not suffer.” And then he laughed. That sound, low, easy, familiar in a way she didn’t expect made her look up. He was standing in the doorway like he belonged to it. White linen shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled once, skin warm and tanned from the sun. His hair was short, dark, cleanly styled, like he’d combed it once that morning and hadn’t touched it since. His jaw was a little sharper than she remembered. His smile, somehow softer. He looked like he smelled like sea salt and warm cotton. Like he’d been outside all day fixing something just because someone asked. Like the kind of man who wasn’t trying to be the center of attention, but always ended up there anyway. His eyes moved across the room,briefly, casually until they found hers And stopped. It was quiet, just between them. The kind of moment that doesn’t interrupt anything but still makes the air feel different. His brow twitched like he was trying to place her, then smoothed when it clicked.

“You grew up,” he said, not surprised. Just quietly impressed.

“So did you,” she replied, heartbeat climbing way too fast.

He smiled, tilted his head. “You’re not still afraid of the deep end, are you?”

She huffed out a breath. “Only when I’m tired.”

Kathleen’s voice cut through before he could respond. “Luigi, baby, grab the wine from the table and make yourself useful.”

He stepped past her, giving her a nod so subtle it barely counted, and moved toward the counter like he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of her. But before he reached the sink, he glanced back. Not to say anything. Just to look. And she wasn’t sure what kind of look it was—curious, familiar, maybe something else—but it landed in her chest and stayed there, warm and buzzing beneath her skin.

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

The sun was just beginning to slip behind the trees when Kathleen announced dinner like it was a holiday. “Everyone out back! Shoes optional, opinions not.”

She followed the flow of bodies onto the patio, arms brushing shoulders, plates clinking, Luciana already halfway through a dramatic retelling of a Tinder date that ended in an emergency room. The long wooden table was set with mismatched chairs and wine glasses that didn’t match either. Candles flickered low, napkins were folded but already sliding out of place, and everything smelled like roasted tomatoes, lemon zest, and summer. She didn’t know where to sit. Her mom had found a seat next to Louis, deep in conversation about property taxes, and Maria Santa was balancing her toddler in one arm while waving a fork in the other. She hesitated at the edge of it all, unsure where she fit—until she felt someone step beside her.

“Here,” Luigi said, quietly, nodding to the last empty chair.

Next to him.

She glanced at it, then at him. He was already sliding into his seat, one arm resting lazily along the back of the chair beside his. Like it had always been meant for her.

She sat. Close enough that their knees almost touched under the table.

The food came in waves. Bread, salad, pasta. Kathleen moved like a magician between courses, and Luciana was already tipsy enough to declare herself “a saint for helping with the dishes later.”

Conversations layered around her like music—half-heard stories, laughter that built without warning, forks scraping against plates. It was loud and warm and beautiful in the kind of way you forget you need. And then Luigi leaned in. Not dramatically. Just enough that his shoulder brushed hers.

“So,” he said, eyes still on his plate, voice low enough that no one else could hear, “are you actually here for the summer, or did someone bribe you?”

She took a sip of her wine before answering. “Little of both.”

He smiled, slow. “I figured. You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“Like your brain’s still somewhere else.”

She turned to him. “And you don’t?”

His grin widened, but he didn’t argue. A pause settled between them. Not awkward just full. Like neither of them was in a rush to ruin it.

“I forgot how loud your family is,” she said finally, glancing at Luciana now singing backup vocals to the music playing through a tiny Bluetooth speaker. Luigi laughed into his glass. “That’s their quiet setting. You should hear them at Christmas.”

“I’m scared.”

“You should be.”

She found herself smiling without thinking. It was easy, being near him. He didn’t talk too much. Didn’t force it. But every now and then, he said something that made her feel like he really saw her. Not the version she was pretending to be. Just her. Kathleen came by and topped off their glasses. Luciana shouted across the table to say she looked “suspiciously good in this lighting,” and someone dropped a spoon that clattered like thunder. But all she could feel was the weight of his gaze when she looked down. Their arms touched again when they both reached for the bread. Neither of them moved away.

By the time dessert was cleared, the sky had turned completely dark. The candles on the patio burned low, flickering against empty wine glasses and half-finished plates, catching in the gold of Luciana’s earrings as she waved a fork dramatically and told a story she’d clearly told before. Her mom was yawning into her sleeve. Maria Santa had her youngest slumped against her shoulder, fast asleep, curls tangled and cheeks sticky with tiramisu. Louis stood to help her carry him in, and one by one, the others began drifting back into the house—laughing, brushing crumbs from laps, stretching their arms above their heads like the night itself had worn them out. She stood too, unsure where to go. Luciana kissed her on the cheek without warning and whispered, “You’re handling us beautifully.”

She smiled, a little dazed. “I used to think this family was loud.”

“Oh, honey,” Luciana said, looping her arm around her waist for a quick squeeze, “we’re just getting started.”

Inside, the kitchen was quieter now. Dimmer, too only the warm under-cabinet lighting left on, making the marble counters glow softly. There was a stack of dishes in the sink, a tray of burnt lemon rinds, and a towel half-crumpled near the sink like someone had given up mid-clean. She lingered there a moment, just taking it in. It was rare to see a kitchen like this when it wasn’t full of voices. When the energy had settled and you could finally hear your own breathing.

Then she heard footsteps behind her.

“Leave them,” Luigi said, his voice lower now, softer without the buzz of dinner around them. “You’re a guest.”

She turned. He was rolling up his sleeves further, collar still open, curls a little tousled from the humidity outside. He looked… relaxed. Like the night had worn him in all the right ways.

“So are you,” she said.

He reached past her for a dish and grinned. “I live here half the year. That makes me an unpaid employee.”

She hesitated, then grabbed the towel and bumped her hip lightly against his. “Fine. Then I’m your assistant.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “You gonna dry?”

“If you wash.”

“Deal.”

And just like that, they found a rhythm. He washed slowly, carefully, like someone who knew how to do it right—rinsing twice, stacking neatly. She dried, hands brushing his a few times too many. Neither of them mentioned it. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… charged. Familiar in a way she hadn’t expected. Every now and then, he’d say something—point out that Luciana had hidden an untouched shrimp under her napkin or that Louis always left the forks for last. Small things. Observations. He noticed things. She liked that.

“You used to be scared of this kitchen,” he said suddenly, glancing at her with a little smirk.

“Only because Luciana threatened to throw me in the oven once.”

He laughed, deep in his chest. “She’s gotten nicer.”

“She gave me wine and called me hot. I’m terrified.”

He handed her a plate and looked at her a little longer than necessary. “She’s not wrong.”

She paused. The towel stilled in her hands. He didn’t look away. His expression didn’t change. And she wasn’t sure what to say—if she should joke, deflect, or pretend like her pulse didn’t just skip—but before she could decide, he turned back to the sink.

The moment passed. Quietly.

But it stayed there between them.

Humming.

By the time the last dish was done, her hands smelled like lemon and soap, and she was a little dizzy,but not from the wine. He wiped the counter with the back of his wrist and leaned against it, arms folded.

“You’re different,” he said softly.

She glanced at him. “So are you.”

A pause.

Then, like he couldn’t help it: “In a good way.”

Something in her chest tightened. The kind of ache that wasn’t sad. Just full. Before she could respond, Kathleen’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Luigi, don’t leave her alone in there. Give her the tour or something.”

He didn’t move. Just looked at her.

“You want the tour?” he asked.

“Only if it includes snacks.”

He smiled.

And led her out of the kitchen.

He didn’t really give her a tour. He started in the hallway, pointed vaguely toward a guest bathroom, then made some joke about Luciana’s old room being cursed—which, judging by the crooked closet door and permanent smell of vanilla lotion, might not have been far off.But after that, it was quiet. They walked slowly, barefoot on cool tile, the house creaking softly around them like it was falling asleep. Voices had dimmed behind bedroom doors. Her mom had gone to bed. Even the music had stopped. It was just them. He led her toward the back of the house, the older part,where the windows were thinner, the light more golden. The walls here were lined with photos, decades of family birthdays and anniversaries and blurry Christmas mornings.They paused in front of one without speaking. It was him,probably sixteen, holding a sparkler, grinning with cake frosting on his shirt.

“I looked like I had no idea what to do with myself,” he said, voice low, eyes on the frame.

“You looked like you were trying really hard not to smile.”

“I probably was.”

She tilted her head. “You were kind of quiet back then.”

“I’m still quiet,” he said, glancing at her. “People just stopped pointing it out.”

They stood there for a second too long. Then she shifted, brushing a finger along the edge of the photo frame.

“I used to love this hallway,” she said softly. “When I was little, I’d walk back and forth during parties pretending I was going somewhere. Just to be around it. The noise. The energy.”

He looked at her. Really looked.

“And now?” he asked.

“Now I think I came here to be around it without being in it.”

Luigi nodded slowly, like he got it. Like maybe he felt that way sometimes too.Then he turned, opened the last door on the right.The back den. She remembered it as the TV room,low couch, dark wood shelves, the leftover blankets always balled up in the corner. It looked the same now. Familiar. Safe. He stepped inside, but didn’t turn on the light. Just reached for the lamp in the corner and let it cast that soft amber glow across the room. She stood in the doorway for a second. He sat on the edge of the couch, leaned forward on his knees, looking out the window into the dark. She joined him, curling one leg under the other, the cushion dipping between them. Neither of them spoke for a moment.The quiet wasn’t empty. It pulsed with unsaid things. She turned her head toward him.

“You’re easier to talk to now,” she said.

He didn’t look at her. Just smiled gently. “You never tried before.”

“Maybe I was scared.”

His eyes met hers. No teasing this time.

“You don’t seem scared now.”

“I’m not.”

He nodded once.

Then, quietly: “Good.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know what to do with the way he was looking at her. Like she wasn’t just some girl at the end of a long day. Like she was the thing he hadn’t realized he’d been waiting to find again. The silence stretched. And then he reached forward not dramatically, just instinctively and brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek.

His fingers were warm. Calloused at the tips. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just looked at him. Let it sit there. Let it be what it was. And when he dropped his hand and leaned back again, she felt the absence like a string gently tugging at her chest.

They didn’t kiss.

Not yet.

But something settled between them anyway.Something neither of them had words for.

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This is just the first part I’m hoping you guys like it, still feel like I can do a lot better lol if you guys have any feedback I’d be glad to hear it (: someone please lmk if this feels rushed (:

@luigisbambinaaa @luigis-wetdream @multi-culti-girl @mangionesdaisy @snoopy184 @mashkatzi

now imagine baby girl carefully bringing him his birthday cake with candles lit 😣😣😣😣 giggling, singing happy birthday, and saying “make a wish dady!” 😣😣😣😣

WTF 😣😣 and she’s more excited than he is because she loves making her papa happy 😣 and as soon as lu sees her bringing him his cake his heart just turns into mush

and then she smacks a kiss onto his cheek and goes “mwwwwwwwwaaaahhhh!” 💔💔💔💔

omg italy showing up for our boy 🥹🥹🥹🥹

in desperate need of virgin lu hcs please ;)

virgin lu headcanons ;)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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