Latest Posts by luigisbambinaaa - Page 3

saving this to definitely write something later…

https://x.com/sloppyslvt/status/1898950058516639994?s=46

lu fucking you in his dorm just like thisss

“shh, don’t want people walking by hearing you”

“stop being so fucking loud, you’ll get me in trouble” as he shoves his fingers down your throat 😣

omg 😣😣😣

Does anyone have the Penn crush post where someone said “intense eye contact is hot but are you gonna make a move” or something along those lines and Luigi was tagged in the comment section? I’ve been digging everywhere and I can’t seem to find it://

All I can think about is giving him a blowjob

Like just imagine Your mascara’s running, spit’s stringing from your chin to his cock, and he loves it. He cups your face while you’re still choking on him and says, “Look at you. Such a mess for me. You need this, don’t you? You gag and he moans. Not out of pity but because it’s his. His cock in your throat. His spit down your neck. His girl on her knees like she was born to take him. He wipes your tears away and whispers, “Good girl. Keep fuckin’ going.”

Babe I need him 😩

him caressing my cheeks while fucking my throat 🥹🥹🥹🥹 yes PLEASE

#WHOREMEMBERS

happy early birthday to luigi and i 😋

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 👍🏻

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

Lmao not luigi being possessive..

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

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

IMAGINE….

you post a tiktok exactly like this after you and toxic!luigi break up…

luigi has his phone clutched in his hand, stomach churning as he watches the tiktok of you and your friends applauding. he’d bite his lip, glaring down at the illuminated screen, examining you.

you’re dressed in a mini skirt and a crop top, wearing clothes you know he’d hate if you were to go out alone in them.

but, you’re broken up. it shouldn’t matter to him.

but it does.

luigi seethes at the sight of your friends cheering you on, mindlessly giggling and clapping.

he’s filled with blind rage at the thought of you going out like that, without him, to talk to other men. hell, he couldn’t even bare the thought of other men looking at you.

he watches your tiktok over and over and over again… before closing the app he already hated so much, throwing his phone angrily. he only got the god-forsaken app because you begged him to. he gets himself so worked up, even though he fucked up your relationship.

good thing the break up was recent.

luigi still has your location.

and he wants to have a talk.

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

treacherous || luigi mangione

genuinely spent so much time pondering how to write this out, thank you to the anon who sent the request i really love how it turned out :,) also in my head luigi loves taylor swift, hence the ending mwahahaha

WARNINGS: none, fluff, a moment where luigi snaps from stress, f!reader, kinda (not really) proofread

SUMMARY: After being freed from prison, Luigi has plenty to catch up on and he tries his best to reply to letters from supporters, but between keeping up with them in a timely manner, having a new girlfriend and other things he’s trying to do — he snaps at you.

WC: 2.1k

It had been over a year since he walked free. Through thick and thin — it had been endless hours of pondering, worry and prayers to a higher power; unsure if they were even listening. By some miracle, the verdict fell on the courtroom like an angelic tune: “not guilty.” His legal team had spent so much time in understanding every aspect and working through so many kinks that they encountered. But they did it.

It was you he found in the midst of it all, an escape from the hells he suffered through, when he saw you, when he read your letter – he felt like he had found heaven. There was something about you that fascinated and intrigued him. He impacted you equally – the male’s image, what he stood for… Something almost revolutionary that somehow united a split nation. Your heart ached every time something new was revealed about his case, the way he had been treated was diabolical. A disgrace to the country – to the world – to the people.

Strong as a tree he stood, resilient and kind despite his circumstances. Even behind bars – he was such a darling before it all happened. You always believed in his innocence. The mere thought of support made his heart cheerful, even in the strange, various ways people expressed it. He was proud to bring people together.

So, now that he sat in the comfort of his own home, still haunted by the memories of the life he endured inside that prison – he kept a smile on his face and continued to spread positivity, more than happy to keep in contact with those who showed him nothing but love in a time of pain. It was difficult to write back to what seemed like over a thousand different letters, but he kept persistent and worked diligently day in and day out to be sure everyone received a response from him. He was writing a letter back to a mother, to whom he pondered his reply for a few days now. It troubled him more than most letters normally would, considering these types were always heartbreaking. The ways the healthcare system treated families was so dehumanizing. It was a sad reality.

He wasn’t all for the public eye and attention on him, he never was – he appreciated it nonetheless, he would never not be grateful for people caring. It was a rocky process, getting out so many responses. Sometimes he’d get a bit stressed because of it. Today was one of those days, he had a major hand cramp, a slight headache on the left temple and a sudden stump. His fingers trembled, causing a shake through the pen he jotted with; a cramp in his back made him sit up straight forcefully and he glanced out the apartment window – a little break for his eyes.

When sense finally sunk back in and he focused on the paper, you had walked back in from running a few errands. Luigi had been so indulged in keeping up with his replies for weeks. It became a little annoying for you, not necessarily because you needed his attention – okay maybe you did; but all he did lately was write. Day in, day out. He tried not to overwhelm himself with anything else so it didn’t disturb his thought process while reading then replying to letters. Perhaps tonight you would cook something for him, and he could take a break to talk with you. His routine was just: wake up, clean up, read through letters, have lunch around noon, then he’d start responding to all of those letters he spent reading during the morning. He’d grab a snack for dinner or order out for you both, and still be writing.

Sure, his dedication was endearing, however it could be too much on you. It felt like your partner had just become another person in the house rather than what he was before he decided: “I think I’ll start replying to all of those letters.” 

“Hey Lu,” you said softly as you hung your keys on the hook by the door, kicked off your shoes and sat your bag on the couch. He doesn’t reply, just hums something as he writes. You sighed and carried the bag of groceries to the kitchen, then sat them on the counter. “I’m cooking dinner tonight, so we can sit together and eat. Maybe you can tell me about your letters?” You smile, placing some refrigerated things in their place; and all you’re met with is a nod from the back of his head. Shaking your own, you slowly pad off to the bedroom. You had been ready to shower since you got up, while you were out, you went to the gym. 

After, you winded down. Drying your hair carefully, applying skincare and dressing comfortably. Maybe an hour went by – you weren’t entirely sure. You stand, sliding into your fuzzy slippers and emerging from the bedroom, no surprise that Luigi’s still sitting there silently. “Hey, I’m gonna start cooking now, I know it’s a little early but I was thinking we could have a movie night.” 

No response … You continue on with what you please. 

He was hyper-focused on making the best response, and all he heard was the nose you were making. Clanking a pot or two, rustling food packages, popping oils, every sound sinking into his ear drums and driving him nuts. Accidentally, you dropped some tomatoes, they were just the small cherry ones. “Shit,” you muttered, they rolled around and scattered. Luigi rubs his temple. When dinner was finished, you were so content with it, you glanced over at Lu. “I’m done with supper, are you ready to eat?” ...  “Luigi.”

Silence. “Babe.”

Nothing. Again. “Luigi,” You call, and he turns, staring at you. He then rises up, comes over and picks up the plate you were holding for him. “Mhm.” He hums and walks back off to the desk. Like getting a toddler’s attention – the casual span of a gnat of course, Luigi plops back down in his chair and eats while reading another letter. You dine alone at the table, quietly. The only sound to flow throughout the room is the gentle scrape of the silverware on the plate, or small swallow. You offer Luigi seconds, but he denies. So, you take his plate and begin cleaning up – normally he would assist with that, or do it himself if you cooked; alas, tonight he wouldn’t.

Your hands are rushed over by warm, soapy water as you scrub the plates, the silverware, the pan and pot you used. Then carefully wiped down the stove, the countertops and the table despite you being the only one who sat there tonight. You were able to sit down, just let out relief knowing that was all set and done – in the corner was Lu, writing again. After dinner you guys would relax on the couch and watch a series or movie together, soak in life. He was able to enjoy breathing freely again when he’d sink into the cushions and throw pillows – wrap his strong arm around your side as you lay your head on his broad chest, your serotonin bursting out as you burrow in his embrace.

It's the opposite, you don’t lean into anyone, no extra warmth, no company, just you, the couch and the black TV screen you hadn’t turned on yet. You wanted to wait, perhaps he’d change his mind tonight, he’ll set everything aside and come to you. Tuck himself behind your body as he cradles you into his side, cover both his and your legs with a fuzzy blanket, pet your hair until you eventually fall asleep right there so he’ll carry you to bed.

Not tonight.

You take yourself back to bed after TV time – if you even consider it that. The TV stayed on mute as to not disturb your boyfriend’s intense writing session in the corner of the apartment. It only bothered you somewhat. 

What finally tipped the iceberg was waking up at 2 AM and finding the illuminating light from a small lamp on his desk still on. His eyelids droopy, his pen hovers over the page hesitantly, shaking ever so slightly. Luigi was one blink away from passing out.

“Lu, come to bed will you?” Your voice replies gently – there’s no visible reaction from the male. “Luigi,” you repeated. He draws in a breath, sitting up, his back cracks quietly, causing his face to contort in a reflection of mild discomfort. Being hunched over the desk all day is equally worse to being hung over a laptop or phone all day. Which he normally was against doing to himself. He cut a connection with electronics at a certain point in his life, and he swore it was one of the greatest things he did to help his mental and physical health. Now here he is, sleep deprived and ruining his posture simultaneously 

“Please come to bed, you look so exhausted.” 

He tilts his head and continues to write (what you’re assuming is) a new letter. You just missed him, you wanted to cuddle to sleep and know he was there in the bed by you as you close your eyes and let peace swallow you whole. Your heart aches to be without him – even if he is there. You love him too much. 

“Luigi, babe–” “Oh my god, don’t you see that I’m trying to write these letters?! Just shut up for five seconds, I’ll go to bed when I’m ready!” He snaps at you, the tiredness is clear as day on his face. Normally his skin is a gentle tan, slowly losing its color – going pale again. HIs eye bags were saddening and as you stared in disbelief that he snapped at you like that. It’s truly painful to you. You understood he was busy, overly stressed trying to respond to more letters than possible every day. He needed to slow down though. He was driving himself crazy by not sleeping enough and not socially interacting only through letters.

He sat silent after his little snap, he sighs as immediate guilt crept over him and he looked at your expression. Never used to that, he never gets angry or upset with you, he always talks it out slowly, genuinely, lovingly. He had no idea what came over him, but now – staring at you – his beautiful, tender-loving girlfriend who he probably just startled by yelling at – was eyes-wide and arms folded. 

“Baby, I’m so, so sorry – I didn’t mean…” His apology is delayed when you walk off to the bedroom. He rubs his aching face, then combs his fingers through his curls and stands – finally. After hours. He swallows a lump in his throat as he makes his way back to your shared room and leans against the doorframe. “Look, baby…”

“I don’t want to talk to you, Lu.” Your voice is muffled by the way you lay against the pillow – facing away from the door. “Look – I didn’t mean to snap at you okay? I’m really stressed right now… That’s not an excuse though, I should never yell at you, bellissima.” He murmurs, sitting beside your feet at the edge of the bed, his weight sinks the mattress awkwardly. His hand reaches out, lanky fingers wrap around your leg and he gives it a squeeze through the fabric of your pajama pants. When you don’t respond, he clenches his jaw, he has no idea what to do other than to give you attention. He should’ve done it before, never ignored you, he felt horrible.

“I’m so, so sorry princess.” He whispers, crawling up on the bed behind you. He snaked his arms around your waist, his breath heats the side of your neck as he begins peppering kisses right there. All he knew was he wasn’t letting either of you go to bed until you were happy again. He squishes your back against his front. “Dolcezza,” he sighs, “Please talk to me.”

You shake your head slowly, he kisses your jawline. “You’re my princess,” his breath tickles your skin. “I’m gonna make time for you, I shouldn’t prioritize anything else in the world over you, my love. Even cheesy letters.” He says, you turn onto your back and he immediately grins, the corners of his lips turn up, his cheeks blush every time he sees that pretty face of yours. He inches towards you, resting his chin in the valley between your breasts, harmlessly.

He flaps and flutters his big hazel eyes, those flawless lashes – like a new puppy. “Oh fine, you big baby.” You smile, but his smile’s brighter. He leans up and plants his plump rosy lips against yours. “So treacherous.” His eyes meet yours again.

You squint and raise a brow, “Was that a Taylor Swift reference?”

“Maybe.”

“You actually like Taylor Swift!”

“All too well.” He says cheekily.

palm’s masterlist

fluff - 𐙚 smut - ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

── .✦ headcanons: virgin lu headcanons ;) , husband lu headcanons , honeymoon with lu headcanons , shy college bf lu headcanons , girldad lu headcanons

── .✦ moodboards: priest luigi moodboard

── .✦ drabbles/oneshots: holy hands, unholy acts ࣪ ִֶָ☾. , sunday morning ࣪ ִֶָ☾. , soft haven 𐙚

── .✦ fics

- bliss 𐙚

- weak for you ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

- cyber sex (weak for you part 2) ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

- cherry (weak for you part 3) ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

- bent over the table ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

- haunting you ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

- outage ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Fic request for after Luigi gets out of jail.

He comes out not in a very good mental state ofc. He does a great job at keeping it together, goes to therapy etc, but has episodes where he snaps or is just out of line. (Not violent or anything but enough to say things he doesn't mean.) You both have a bad fight one night, and you rush off to your room where you lay down and cry. You pass out, and wake up to him on his knees by the bed, apologizing and kissing your hands and just begging you for forgiveness. Turns into smut, lovemaking but still intense (raw and super intimate)

Call it Fate, Call it Karma

Summary: Luigi snaps at you, hurting your feelings, and begs to make it up to you.

Content Warning: Very brief argument, Luigi crying, reader crying, p in v, a bit angsty (?)

An: oof this took me sooo long to write im sorry! spring break ended and i was swamped with work. this is also my first time writing anything angsty so i hope i lived up to your expectations anon! thanks for the request <3 enjoy!

other works: soft spot , soft spot pt. 2

—————————————

It wasn’t even a big deal.

Just some stupid comment you made about groceries and how tired and overwhelmed you were, obviously trying to make a joke.

But the moment the words left your mouth, Luigi’s whole face changed.

His eyes went cold, jaw tightened, and his fists clenched at his sides. And you knew that look, you knew he was trying to keep his anger from bubbling over, just like he had been working on with his therapist.

But he snapped anyway, disregarding any feelings you’d have.

“Why are the fuck are you still here if you’re so fucking miserable then, huh?”

“I didn’t ask you to stay. You can leave whenever you want.”

The words cut you like knives, leaving you almost frozen.

He wasn’t even loud nor violent, but cold enough to hit exactly where it would hurt the most.

You stood there, heart hammering and throat closing.

Feeling all your insecurities flooding back to the surface. Thoughts of not being good enough for him anymore, that he didn’t really want to be with you anymore after being gone for so long, that maybe he realized you were a burden too.

And you didn’t say a thing, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

You turned and ran, vision blurred with hot tears.

You barely remembered slamming your bedroom door, barely remembered collapsing into bed and sobbing into your pillows as your entire body shook.

You cried hard, even more than you expected to.

Every fear pouring out of every tear— of losing him, of not being enough to pull him out of the darkness he was plagued with, of loving him more than he could ever love you back.

And eventually, the exhaustion lulled you to sleep.

———

You awoke hours later to the sound of quiet sobs and broken breathing.

You blinked your swollen eyes open, sticky tears dried to your face, and saw Luigi.

Kneeling by your bed, forehead pressed against your hands, his entire body shaking with quiet, desperate sobs.

He kissed your knuckles over and over again, whispering quiet apologies against your skins like he was praying,

“I’m sorry baby.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, please.”

“Please, don’t leave me. Please.”

You stirred, fingers twitching against his, and his head snapped up immediately, letting you get a good look at his wrecked state.

Red-rimmed eyes, mouth trembling, and endless tears sliding down his cheeks.

Luigi, who never let ANYONE see him so vulnerable, so broken like this, kneeling beside you.

“Please,” he gasped, climbing into bed like he couldn’t bear to be any further away from you anymore.

“Please don’t leave. I didn’t mean it, baby. Please don’t hate me. Baby, I swear I didn’t mean it.”

You stayed silent for a second, still stunned by his appearance, still hurt by his words, before whispering,

“You don’t get to say things like that to me and pretend it’s nothing, Lu.”

“I’ve stayed because i love you.”

Your voice cracked and your hands shook, but you still managed to say,

“If you don’t want me— If you think I’ve been a burden, just say it now.”

Luigi broke.

Collapsing against you, sobbing, shaking, hugging you like he was afraid if he didn’t have any hands on you, you’d disappear.

His words spilling out frantically, “no, no, never, you’re my whole world, i’m sorry, please don’t leave, i’m sorry—“

You wrapped your arms around him, rocking him, whispering sweet little soothing words, letting tears slide down your cheeks as well.

“I’m here,” you whispered against his curls. “I’m not leaving, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

———

Somehow, through all the tears, your mouths found each other.

Kisses that tasted of salt and of so many things left unsaid.

Luigi kissed you like he wanted to swallow you whole. Like he could kiss away all the broken parts of you.

And you kissed him back, desperate and trembling. Tugging on his clothes, needing him closer, and needing him now.

He stripped you first, tender but clumsy, tears still slipping off his cheeks and hands shaking when brushing against your soft skin.

You undressed him second, just as frantically. Tearing his hoodie off, yanking his jeans down, until you were both skin-to-skin, warm, sticky, but wrecked together.

When he finally pressed his body against yours, his forehead resting on yours and his heavy, hot cock between your thighs, you whimpered and dug your nails into his shoulders.

“Please,” you gasped, wrecked and needy.

“Lu… please, need you.”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I’m here, baby.”

He lined himself up, hands trembling and pushed into you slow.

So slow it almost hurt. So slow you felt every single inch of him press deep inside, dragging a sharp, breathless moan from you.

Your legs spread wider without thinking. Just desperate to take all of him, to feel all of him and drown in it.

Luigi whimpered when he bottomed out, buried to the hilt with your walls fluttering around him.

“God,” he rasped, voice breaking. “You feel so good. So fucking good, baby”

He stayed buried inside you, trembling and peppering kisses over your cheeks, your throat, and your lips— whispering broken promises into your skin.

“You’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

“Forever.”

And when he finally moved, it wasn’t rough or frantic. It was slow, deep, and wrecked.

Every thrust lit your nerves on fire, feeling so full and stretched, and overwhelmed by his weight on you in the best way.

He fucked you like he wanted to become one with you. Like he needed your body to understand how apologetic he was.

Each slow drag of his hips pulled more tears from you, not from pain, but from the sheer overwhelming love and care pouring out of him.

“I’m sorry,” he kept gasping. “I’m sorry, baby. I love you so much. I’m never gonna hurt you again, swear.”

“I know,” you sobbed— kissing him and clutching him closer. “I know. I love you, Lu.”

He moved faster, deeper. His thrusts becoming messy, desperate, and grinding you further into the mattress until you were sobbing into his mouth and your nails clawing at his back.

He reached between you, hand sliding down your body to press little tight circles over your clit with his thumb.

“Wanna feel you cum on me, baby,” he moaned against your lips. “Wanna feel you milk me, bella.”

Your thighs trembled, whole body shuddering as he kept fucking you just right.

“That’s it,” he breathed, already panting.

“That’s my girl. My perfect baby. Taking it so good— fuck, gonna make me lose it.”

You came first— body locking up and clenching Luigi so tight he groaned— a low, broken noise that went straight to your pussy.

You sobbed his name, hands grabbing blindly at him, thighs shaking as your orgasm rocked through you, and still he didn’t stop.

“Good girl,” he whispered, fucking you through it. “So good, so fucking good for me, baby.”

And Luigi followed right after— burying himself as deep as he could inside you, sobbing out your name as he came, his hips jerking, cum spilling into you in warm pulses as he moaned against your mouth.

He didn’t stop kissing you. Not even when he collapsed on top of you, still inside you, panting, and trembling with how much he loved you.

———

You stayed there wrapped around each other, shaking, clinging, and sticky.

Kissing each other’s faces, whispering wrecked little ‘i love you’s’ until neither of you could speak.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you even thought about it.

You two were home right there, in each other’s arms.

———

You’re not sure how much time had passed, but eventually, Luigi stirred with his voice low as he whispered into your hair,

“I’m sorry again, baby. For everything I said. I shouldn’t have—“

You cut him off with a soft kiss and shaking your head.

“Stop,” You murmured gently. “You don’t have to keep repeating it. You already showed me. You’re here and we’re okay.”

His arms instinctively tightened around you as he buried his face in your neck.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it,” he whispered.

You ran your fingers through his curls, lightly scratching his scalp, grounding him with every tug.

“Then just start here,” you said softly. “Let’s sleep and just hold me.”

He pressed a soft and tentative kiss to your collarbone, his eyes fluttering shut.

And you both stayed like that, sore, but comforted. Both your hearts steady for the first time in a long time.

Because no matter how heavy the night had started, you were both ending it together.

Strawberries, cherries, and an angel’s kiss in spring…

* nsfw: messy & filthy cockwarming, no sex, dom!luigi *

It’s April in Sicily. You and Luigi have been here for a week now, tucked away in your sun-drenched villa perched on the edge of the Aeolian Islands. You booked a springtime retreat to satisfy the yearning for a life woven only of each other, under the soft gaze of the Mediterranean sun.

The warmth kisses your bare shoulders as you wander through the gardens of your villa, the breeze curling around your body. Barefoot, the grass and earth are soft under your soles, and you twirl lazily, gathering wild spring flowers in your hands: delicate white blooms, tiny pink buds, yellow petals that smell of honey. You weave them into your hair, threading them through the messy braid you’d tossed over one shoulder, smiling softly at how pretty you feel, how free.

You’re wearing that little babydoll your boyfriend loves, the pale pink fabric fluttering against your thighs, nearly translucent when the sunlight hits it. You’re a dream under the sparkling spring sun — it’s mid-afternoon now, when the warmth of the Mediterranean is at its peak, and as you move through the garden with the petals, you anticipate the way you know Luigi will look at you when you step back inside. Reverent and doting, those dilated pupils that tell you each time how utterly lovesick he is for his girl.

The hem of your babydoll brushes the tops of your thighs as you skip a little toward the entrance of the villa, clutching the last handful of blossoms. The heavy wooden door swings open with a soft creak, and the coolness of the stone floor soothes your feet as you step inside. The house smells like sunlight and salt and something sweeter, and you follow the scent into the kitchen.

Luigi is standing by the table, the late afternoon light accentuating the olive of his skin. His curls are tousled, messy from the earlier breeze. You pause at the door to watch him, taking in his existence. He wears nothing but beige linen shorts that hang low on his hips, and you blink twice to focus on the sight of the back muscles that decorate his broad figure. He’s focused on a little wooden bowl, slicing ripe strawberries and pitting cherries, his fingers stained pink with their juices.

You stay still in the doorway as Luigi hums under his breath, completely relaxed. When he glances up and sees you, his gaze both softens and deepens at the same time.

“Come here, baby,” he murmurs, voice already rough with affection.

You pad toward him, flowers still clutched in your fingers, and as you’re setting them down, he catches you by the waist and tugs you into his lap, lowering you onto his thigh at the table, turned sideways so you’re half-facing him.

His arms wrap around your middle immediately, strong and warm, pulling you snug against his chest. He rocks you gently, back and forth, savoring the moment of resting his girl in his arms. He leans down and presses kisses along your jaw, featherlight, his nose nuzzling your temple, your cheek, your ear.

“My beautiful girl,” he breathes against your skin. His hands roam lazily, tracing circles over the bare skin of your thigh, your hip, your ass under the fluttery hem of your babydoll. “Look at you, baby…”

You loop your arms around his neck, giggling when he nuzzles into you again. Your fingers play with the curls at the nape of his neck as you both sit there, wrapped up in each other, the warm, lazy afternoon stretching around you like a cloud… or a dream.

“Princess,” he murmurs again, a little dazed. He pulls back just enough to look at you, hazel eyes glowing so much so that you see the flecks of green. His gaze is slow and hungry as it travels over your body: the sheer babydoll, the golden flush of your skin, the wildflowers tangled in your braid. “You’re so beautiful.”

You pout at him with a pretty smile, wrists resting on his shoulders. “You just told me that, Lu.”

“Because I just can’t believe you. Can’t believe you’re mine, cara mia,” Luigi whispers.

The way he’s looking at you — full of hunger, of warmth, of devotion — makes your stomach flutter and your thighs press together instinctively. You giggle again, a little shyly this time, ducking your head against his shoulder, but he doesn’t let you hide.

He keeps tracing slow, lazy patterns over your bare skin, teasing touches that make your panties dampen embarrassingly fast. You hope he doesn’t notice, but you can’t stop yourself from squirming a little on his thigh — the movement might be subtle, but Luigi notices everything about you, especially when that squirm is paired with the sense of something wet on the hem of his shorts.

The moment he feels the first little damp patch seep onto the fabric, he pauses, then leans back just a little, tilting his head. His tongue presses to the inside of his cheek as he raises an eyebrow at you.

He speaks soft, voice amused but with that usual reverent authority. “You okay, baby?” His hands spread wide over your hip, holding you still against him. He presses a kiss to your temple, so soft it almost makes you whimper.

You lift your head, meeting his eyes with a wide, innocent gaze, your lower lip jutting out in a tiny pout. “Mhm… fine, Lu.”

Luigi just hums, clearly unconvinced. His hand sneaks down under the fabric of your babydoll and squeezes your ass lightly, making you gasp — and then he smacks it, just a little. Just enough to make you whine and instinctively grind down onto his thigh. You feel his muscles flex under you and it makes your head spin.

“You don’t need anything, angel?” he teases, voice low, syrupy sweet. His fingers trail up and down your side, ghosting over your ribs, your waist, setting you on fire with the softest touch.

You shake your head a little, but your body betrays you, rocking against his thigh like you can’t help it. The wetness between your legs grows hotter, stickier, soaking through the flimsy fabric.

“Tell me, baby,” Luigi says softly, nudging your chin with his thumb and index so you face him properly. His brows are slightly furrowed, and his gaze is sweet and focused. “What’s the matter?”

You only whimper, nuzzling into his neck, and you can feel him smiling now against your hair. His hands slide up your back, then down, then lower—

“Up,” he murmurs, tapping your thigh. “Straddle me and tell me what’s wrong.”

Obediently, and maybe a little too eagerly, you shift, swinging one leg over him so you’re sitting squarely on his lap now, facing him, your babydoll pooling around you like a cloud. You lean forward immediately, your clothed breasts pressing against his hard, warm chest, arms wrapping tight around his neck as you giggle breathlessly. You feel dizzy with how good it feels to be so close to your man, how safe you feel in his lap, how solid and broad he is underneath you.

“That’s my pretty baby. Come here, give me a kiss,” he whispers into your hair. He inhales the scent of a fresh blossom petal.

You lean back from him a little to face him, pressing your forehead against his as your lips meet. You both can’t help but smile as you pull away, and Luigi’s hands slide down to your ass, gripping the flesh hard enough to make you squeal softly. Then he smacks it again, sharper this time, and you shudder against him.

“My sweet girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your jaw, your ear, the side of your neck. “My perfect angel, so pretty…”

You’re rocking against him without even meaning to, grinding your soaked panties over the crotch of his shorts, desperate for friction.

Luigi bites his lip, eyes raking over you as if he’s deciding what to do with you. He moves his hands slowly between your ass and your waist, and you don’t even realize that you’re moving a little faster, more wetness seeping from the fabric of your panties and onto his half-hard clothed cock. The little noises that leave your pretty lips have him entranced, but outwardly his doting, authoritative gaze doesn’t shift.

After a few moments of near silence — the air filled with nothing but your soft whines and squeaks and the rustle of fabric against fabric, he speaks again.

“You want my cock, baby?”

He asks it like he’s asking if you want a piece of fruit, so casual it makes you clench around nothing. Pathetically, all you do is whine in response.

He raises his eyebrows, the tiniest hint of a smirk playing on his lips, and he grips your hips tighter.

“Shh. Listen to me, angel. I’m gonna give you what you want if you just tell me, okay? Use your words, you know I like when you do.”

Another breathless whine leaves your lips as you attempt to move again, but his big hands still you, keeping you in your place. You lean forward so that your lips brush his ear, and nod frantically. “Please, Lu,” you whisper, voice trembling with need. The ache is unbearable now. “Want you—fuck—so bad.”

He chews the inside of his cheek, eyes raking over your body with an unreadable expression. “You shouldn’t curse like that. Ask nicely, baby.”

You exhale and comply, your voice light and airy. “Please can I have your cock, Lu? I’m your good girl… I love you, handsome.”

You know he likes it when you call him that, especially when you’re looking into his eyes as you are now, all doe-eyed and desperate.

Luigi growls low in his throat, and his hand slides under the front hem of your babydoll, fingers slipping between your thighs. He finds your clit with ease, pressing against the soaked fabric of your pretty pink panties — the ones that match the lingerie you’re currently wearing.

“Matching for me, baby. Pretty princess, as always,” he murmurs, eyes fixated on the wetness pooling between your legs despite the fabric.

You giggle, attempting to grind down again. Two of his fingers circle your sensitivity, achingly slow, before he suddenly smacks your clit, not too sharp, but just enough to send a shocking wave of pleasure through you that causes you to cry out softly into his neck. His hand slips under your panties, palm against your clit, and you rock against his hand.

“Mmmhmm, baby,” you whine. Luigi hardly takes his eyes off you — only twice, to assess the mess you’re making in your panties.

“Bellissima, la mia ragazza…” he whispers, as you continue to grind your clit against his calloused palm. He coos at you through your soft noises, and kisses the corner of your mouth. “Shh, baby. You’re my good girl, soaking my hand…”

You’re lost in the feeling — he’s still not really doing anything, you’re just using him for your pleasure, rocking back and forth, knees bracketing his thighs. And amidst his soft words and doting gaze, he doesn’t prepare you for the abrupt moment he takes his hand out of your panties.

You pout, eyes glassy, another soft whine escaping your throat. “Lu…”

You feel his hand, slick with your arousal, settle on your hip, the other firm against your ass, slow and coaxing, as he shifts you slightly. His touch is so gentle, so reverent it almost makes you want to cry. You feel dizzy, drunk on his existence.

“Lift up a little, baby. You don’t have to do anything else,” he murmurs against your ear. You obey, rising up on shaky thighs, clutching at his broad shoulders for balance.

Luigi leans back in the chair slightly, still cradling you in his lap, his hands firm and steady on your hips. His thumb rubs slow circles into your skin, grounding you, voice low and sweet as he kisses your forehead once, then twice, lingering like he doesn’t want to rush a single thing.

"You okay, beautiful? You ready?" he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.

You nod without hesitation, heart fluttering with anticipation, your body already aching for him. You can feel him beneath you, thick and hard, straining against the fabric of his shorts — and when he shifts slightly, the outline of him drags against you, making your thighs tremble with want.

You watch through heavy, awestruck eyes as he slides one hand down, undoing the button of his shorts with a slow, deliberate movement. The rasp of the zipper coming down sounds almost loud in the quiet kitchen. You can hardly breathe, your mouth going dry as he pushes the fabric aside and frees himself.

He’s so big — thick and heavy in his hand, the flushed tip already slick with need. His cock rests against his lower stomach, proud and weighty, a deep, dusky pink that contrasts so beautifully with the golden tan of his skin. A small, neat patch of dark hair crowns the base, soft-looking and masculine, just enough to make your head spin.

You whimper quietly at the sight, your thighs clenching around him, your whole body yearning to be filled. He catches your reaction immediately, a slow, knowing smile curving his mouth.

"Yeah, you hungry?" he murmurs, his voice a low, affectionate tease. "Just wait, baby. I know.”

The scent of him fills your head, intoxicating and real — sun-warmed skin and a faint hint of salt, like the sea breeze clinging to him; a whisper of soap still lingering from his morning shower, fresh and clean. And underneath it all, the faint, dizzying musk of him — no cologne, just Luigi, so natural and perfect it makes you ache.

He leans back slightly in his chair, his big hands resting heavily on your hips, grounding you against him. His cock, thick and flushed, rests hot against your panties, the head brushing right against your soaked center.

Without warning, he shifts his hips just a little, and with a low, almost playful hum, he lifts his cock in his hand and smacks it lightly against your aching core through the thin cotton.

The sound is wet and obscene — a sharp, sticky noise that seems to echo in the stillness of the kitchen. You shudder violently, the sudden contact sparking a bright, electric shock up your spine. Your panties are already drenched, clinging to your folds, outlining everything shamelessly — and now, with each lazy slap of his cock, more of your arousal seeps through the fabric, darkening it even further.

The heavy head of him nudges directly against your throbbing clit, and you gasp, clutching at his broad shoulders to steady yourself. Every little movement, every slight shift, makes the mess between you grow even slicker, even stickier. You feel it all — the heat of him, the slick slide of his precum mixing with your own dripping wetness, smearing together in a hot, glistening mess right against your panties.

The scent rises, thick between your bodies — sweet and musky, the unmistakable perfume of your combined arousal. It fills the air, rich and humid, wrapping around you both.

Luigi's eyes are locked between your bodies, watching with an intense focus. His lip is caught between his teeth, brows furrowed slightly as he watches the way your panties grow wetter and wetter with every teasing pass of his cock.

"What a mess," he murmurs under his breath, voice so low and rough it vibrates straight through your chest.

Your cheeks flush hot, your whole body tingling with both embarrassment and pride — because it’s for him, because he loves it, because he’s looking at you like you’re something precious and sacred.

Moving slowly, teasingly, Luigi hooks one finger into the side of your panties and tugs them aside. The soaked fabric clings stubbornly to you for a moment before peeling away, revealing your glistening folds underneath.

He groans low in his chest at the sight.

Your pussy is flushed and swollen, slick and glistening with need, every inch of you shining under the golden light streaming in through the kitchen windows. Your clit is plump and needy, peeking out from between your soaked folds, trembling slightly from how much you want him. The evidence of your arousal is messy and dripping, strands of wetness coating your folds.

"Bellissima," Luigi breathes, the word full of reverence. He runs the thick, heavy length of his cock along your folds, gathering even more of your wetness and smearing it along himself, leaving both of you slick and shining.

You moan softly, your hips instinctively starting to rock forward, grinding against the broad, hot length of him. The head of his cock catches against your clit again, dragging over it with every little movement you make, sending sparks shooting through your trembling body.

But you stay patient for him, just like he loves — rocking your hips gently, slowly, not rushing, waiting for his permission to do more. Your hands stay obediently on his shoulders, your chest pressed close to his, your eyes shining up at him because you’re his perfect girl.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Luigi watches you with a look so soft and proud it makes your throat tighten. He shifts slightly under you, tilting his hips up just a little to tease you even more, the broad underside of his cock dragging slowly, deliberately against your clit, sending fresh, aching pulses through your whole body.

"I love you, dolcezza,” he murmurs, his voice like warm honey. "Take your time. Feel me."

One of his big hands slides up to the small of your back, holding you steady as you grind so sweetly against him, your needy, dripping pussy rocking along the thick length of him. His other hand drifts lazily down to stroke over the curve of your ass, squeezing gently, grounding you further against him.

Every movement, every breath between you is soaked in heat and affection, in something deeper than just lust — something endless, timeless.

"You’re so good for me," he whispers, pressing a kiss just below your ear. "So pretty... so perfect."

You whimper softly, rubbing yourself against him with slow, desperate need, every part of you slick and trembling. And Luigi just holds you tighter, letting you grind against him, letting you feel everything, keeping you wrapped up safe and loved in his arms.

"This is what you wanted, hm?” he soothes you, guiding your hips up with careful hands. "Need you to lift up a little again, baby, gonna give you this cock now.”

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and you lift yourself slightly, hands gripping his broad shoulders. He holds himself steady beneath you with one hand, the other still cupping your hip tenderly, stroking comfort into your skin. His head tips back against the chair, watching you through hooded eyes, dark and full of devotion.

Luigi lines you up carefully, the broad head of his cock brushing against your entrance, and you both shudder at the contact. He rubs slow, gentle circles over your clit with his thumb, coaxing you, easing you into it with such overwhelming tenderness it makes your chest ache.

"Nice and easy, angel," he coaxes you, voice like warm velvet. "I’ve got you."

You start to sink down, and immediately he’s there — whispering sweet, grounding things into the golden afternoon air around you.

"Just the tip, there you go," he breathes, kissing your forehead softly.

You whimper, clinging to his shoulders, and he rubs slow circles against your clit again to soothe you, to make it easier. The stretch is delicious and overwhelming, and Luigi’s touch, his voice, helps you through it.

"One inch," he counts in a low, reverent murmur, pride thick in his voice. "My good girl."

You bite your lip, moaning quietly as you sink down another fraction, feeling him stretch you even more.

"Two," he says, his hands tightening on your hips just slightly, steadying you.

Your whole body shudders against him, overwhelmed by how good it feels, how deep he already is inside you, and you’re not even halfway yet.

"Three," he whispers, kissing along your collarbone, nuzzling the warm skin there.

He smells so good — sun, skin, soap, salt — and you bury your face in his neck, breathing him in as you lower yourself even more.

"Four," he coos, his voice laced with awe, one big hand sliding up your back to hold you closer.

You gasp softly, the fullness almost too much, but the way he rubs your clit and strokes your back keeps you grounded.

"Five," Luigi murmurs, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You’re doing perfect, cara mia. So pretty for me."

You whine, overcome by how deep he is already, how much you love him, how perfectly he fits inside you.

"Almost there, baby," he whispers. "Just a little more."

With a final soft moan, you sink all the way down, your hips meeting his, your body trembling with the effort and the overwhelming sense of being completely, utterly filled.

"Seven inches," he breathes, his voice thick and full of wonder. "All mine."

Your breath hitches as your ass settles snugly against his thighs, stuffed full of him. You’re trembling, eyes fluttering shut at the overwhelming feeling of fullness, of heat.

Before you can even catch your breath, Luigi's hand swings back and delivers a sharp, playful smack to your ass, making you squeal and jolt in his lap.

He smirks against your hair, his big hands smoothing over the sting almost immediately. "There," he murmurs, full of love. "My beautiful girl."

You can feel how proud he is of you — every soft murmur, every kiss to your cheek, your shoulder, your jaw. He wraps one strong arm around you, cradling you tight against his chest, his heart thudding steadily beneath your ear. His big hand strokes your back, soothing you, keeping you grounded, while his thumb continues to rub slow, lazy circles against your clit, coaxing little shivers from your body.

"You’re perfect," he whispers, kissing the top of your head. "So good for me, baby. So beautiful."

And he holds you there for a few moments, rocking you gently in his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, the two of you wrapped up in each other, surrounded by the lazy hum of the afternoon.

"Stay still," he reminds you, voice all sweet authority, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Just let me hold you, yeah?"

You nod, whimpering, your body screaming to move, to grind, to chase that unbearable pleasure... but you obey, trembling slightly as he leans forward casually, reaching for the bowl of fruit he'd been preparing earlier.

You watch, wide-eyed, as he plucks a glistening cherry from the bowl, holding it up between two fingers. His gaze is heavy-lidded, dark with affection and hunger.

"Open your mouth," he murmurs.

You part your lips obediently, and he pops the cherry into your mouth, smiling when you giggle around it, juice spilling just a little at the corners of your lips.

You shift without thinking, grinding a tiny bit on his cock stuffed inside you, desperate for more.

Luigi tuts softly, tilting his head in mock disapproval. "What did I say, sweet girl?"

You whimper around the cherry, your cheeks burning, and try to stay still again, but it's impossible — the pulse of him inside you, the slow throb of need in your abdomen makes you roll your hips the tiniest bit.

He chuckles low, his hand slipping between your thighs again to deliver a light, teasing smack to your aching clit. You gasp, shuddering against him, squeezing around him so hard he groans under his breath.

"My baby," he coos, feeding you a slice of strawberry now, the sweetness bursting on your tongue. "Can feel you soaking my cock, angel, but you can wait a little longer for me, yeah? Just wanna cuddle you like this.”

Fruit juice dribbles down your chin, trailing dangerously close to the delicate fabric of your babydoll. Before you can panic, Luigi catches it with his thumb, wiping it away with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

He brings his thumb to your mouth, tapping it lightly against your bottom lip. "Suck for me," he whispers.

You obey without hesitation, lips closing around his thumb, your tongue swirling around it as you suck obediently, tasting the fruit and the salt of his skin.

His eyes darken visibly, hand tightening on you for a split second before he forces himself to stay still, groaning softly.

"That’s it, princess. Taste sweet?" he rasps, pulling his thumb free with a soft pop.

“So sweet,” you nod.

"Stay still," he orders again, a little firmer this time — but there’s a smile playing at his lips, affectionate and teasing, as you whine and tremble in his arms, desperate to move.

You lean forward even more, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck, pressing your face into his shoulder. You kiss the slope of his neck tenderly, desperate for some outlet for the need burning through you. You mouth at his skin, breathing him in, and he lets you, his hand smoothing up and down your back.

After a few minutes, his hand slides up your thigh again, slow and firm.

"Alright, baby," he murmurs. "Get off my cock for me just for a second, yeah?"

You whine, shaking your head against his shoulder, but he only chuckles, squeezing your ass gently. His speech is gradual, line by line, refusing to let you in on what he wants you to do next.

"Come on, sweet girl. You’ll be right back where you belong, I promise."

Pouting, you lift yourself up, feeling him slide out of you — the loss making you clench helplessly, your whole body aching for him.

"That’s it, angel," he praises, and the words make your heart soar.

He pats his thigh lightly. "Now come sit again. But turn around for me this time, yeah?"

You climb back onto him, this time facing away, your back to his chest. His hands guide you carefully, steadying you as you sink down again, his cock sliding back inside you in one long, unbearable stretch.

You both groan low in your throats as you settle back against him, fully seated on his cock once again, his chest pressed flush to your back.

"Stay still," he reminds you softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. "Just let me hold you like this."

You shiver, melting against him as he reaches up to toy with your hair, undoing your messy braid with deft fingers. He combs through the strands slowly, gently, threading the wildflowers back into a neater braid with such careful attention it makes your chest ache.

"My pretty baby," he murmurs over and over, between kisses to your shoulder, your neck, the shell of your ear. "So beautiful like this... all mine..."

You whine softly, overwhelmed by the sweetness of it, the slow tenderness.

He reaches around you again, picking up a slice of strawberry, holding it to your lips. You open obediently, letting him feed you, your hands clutching his thighs for balance.

Juice trickles down your chin, but he’s there again instantly, thumb brushing the spill away and tapping lightly at your bottom lip. Your lips instinctively close around his thumb, tongue swirling.

"You’re such a good girl for me," he praises, his voice a low rumble against your back. "Sitting so pretty… letting me feed you and do your hair while you’re stuffed full of my cock.”

Every once in a while, he leans down to murmur something against your ear — praises, promises, little sinful things that make your core tighten even more around him.

"Your pussy’s perfect for me, baby... so sweet and warm around me."

"You wanna stay stuffed with me all day? We can sit like this for hours, just wanna hold you so close forever.”

"My perfect baby... my sweet angel."

The sun dips lower outside the villa, bathing the kitchen in molten gold, and you're still there, sitting so prettily in his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, your body trembling with the need only he can satisfy — and he has all the time in the world to love you like this.

As he finishes braiding your hair, his hands gentle against your scalp, you feel the warmth of his body press tighter behind you. His fingers linger at the nape of your neck, smoothing the final strand into place before he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer to him, making you feel the weight of his body anchoring yours.

For a moment, everything slows. His cock still fills you, deep and firm, but the urgency of it fades into something more... soft, secure, tender.

You shiver as his lips press against the side of your neck, and then you hear the faint rustle of paper. “Hold on, princess," Luigi murmurs softly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. He leans back just enough to reach over to the counter, picking up a small, folded notebook. "I’ve been making a few notes... things I’ve been thinking about you lately."

His voice is soft, grounded, deep with affection, and you feel your chest tighten as he clears his throat and begins to read aloud, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your waist, steadying you in his lap as his words wrap around you like a blanket.

"The way your smile lights up everything around you," he starts, his voice low but clear, every word tender as it rolls from his lips. "How you look at me like you can see into my soul... and the way I feel when I know you’re thinking of me even when we’re apart."

You sink deeper into him, the rhythm of his voice steady and comforting, as though each word is a caress, even though his cock is still buried deep inside you, still sending waves of heat through your body.

He pauses, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, then continues, his words flowing with an ease that makes you feel treasured.

"I don’t think I ever told you how much I love the way you laugh," he says, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. "It’s like music to me, baby. Every time you giggle, I feel like I could just listen to it forever... it makes me feel like I’m home."

Your heart flutters, and you press back into him, both your hands clutching at his forearms now as his strength surrounds you, offering that steady protection. He leans in closer again, lips brushing your ear as he recites another note.

"I love the way your voice sounds when you say my name," he murmurs softly, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "How it always has this... this softness to it, but when you want me, it gets all breathy, all needy. It drives me wild, baby."

You sigh softly, feeling that same need stir inside you, your body instinctively rocking ever so slightly on his cock, though you know he’s guiding you to remain still for now.

"And when you wear that babydoll," he adds, his voice dipping lower, "it makes my heart skip a beat every time. It’s like you’re made for me, just like this... so perfect, so delicate."

You shiver at his words, your skin tingling under his touch when he plays with the hem of your lingerie. Your body aches for him to do something more, to give more, but you stay still, focusing instead on his words, on his affection.

He continues feeding you fruit, his hand holding another strawberry to your lips as his words drift around you.

"You remind me of everything beautiful in the world, you know that?" he says quietly, his voice thick with admiration. "You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and more. I never knew it was possible to feel so lucky to have someone until I found you."

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, moved by the tenderness in his voice, the pure love that shines through every word. He doesn’t just want you; he adores you, and it makes your heart ache, your body tense with the weight of that realization.

"Fuck, I love you, baby," he murmurs, just barely above a whisper. "So much it hurts.”

“I love you, Lu.” You grip his hand, smoothing your thumb over his knuckles as you lean further back into his chest. You feel him twitch inside you at the slight movement and he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

Then his arms tighten around your waist, and he savors the way you tremble in his lap, the way you rock ever so slightly, despite his gentle insistence to stay still.

"You’re so beautiful like this, sweetheart," he says, voice low and full of pride. "You’re perfect in every way."

He doesn’t need to say any of this; you know it already. But he does, he tells you daily, and the words settle deep in your heart, warming you from the inside out, making your pulse quicken with a fresh wave of longing.

You start to grind a little again, and he holds your waist firmer.

"Stay still for me, baby," he whispers, but there’s no harshness in his voice. He’s not angry. No, he’s just soft, his tone coaxing and sweet, as if he wants to spoil you, to give you every ounce of pleasure you deserve.

And even though your body is begging for release, you can’t help but obey, staying still, letting him continue to hold you, feed you, speak to you. He weaves his hands through your hair again, adjusting the braid and fixing the flower petals, taking care of you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

"My pretty, pretty girl," he murmurs, his voice full of love and adoration. "I’ll never get tired of having you."

And you can feel it, every word sinking deeper into your soul. The sensation of being loved so completely by him, wrapped up in his arms, makes everything feel so right — so fulfilling.

A few moments later, Luigi shifts slightly under you, his big hands sliding from your hips to your waist. You whimper quietly in protest, but he soothes you with a kiss to your temple, his voice a low, commanding murmur against your skin.

"Off, baby. Turn around for me," he instructs, his tone impossibly tender and sure. "Need to look at you.”

Reluctantly, you lift yourself off his cock, a soft, sticky sound filling the space between you as you rise. You both groan at the loss of connection, but he just guides you, steady and patient, helping you turn in his lap to face him properly again. His cock, slick and glistening with both your arousals, stands between you, aching and thick.

"Good girl," Luigi praises softly as you straddle him again, easing yourself slowly back down onto him. You both moan together as you take him once more, inch by thick, aching inch, until you’re fully seated, stuffed full of him, trembling and clinging to his broad shoulders.

The moment you're settled, Luigi leans back slightly, dark eyes drinking you in like you’re the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. His hands stay firm at your hips, keeping you steady on his cock, not letting you move just yet.

You giggle breathlessly, cheeks warm, and reach for the bowl of fruit left forgotten on the table beside you. Grinning playfully, you pluck a strawberry and bring it to his lips.

"Open, Lu," you tease, voice sweet and breathy.

He smiles indulgently, lips parting, and you feed him the berry. He takes it slowly, never looking away from you, chewing lazily as if savoring the taste of your affection just as much as the fruit itself.

Then, a glint of mischief sparkles in your eyes, and you grab a ripe cherry by its stem, twirling it between your fingers.

Still perched pretty on his cock, still feeling him pulsing thick and hard inside you, you lean in closer, batting your lashes up at him, mouth forming a soft, teasing pout. Your tongue flicks out, wrapping around the cherry stem as you pop the fruit into your mouth, sucking it slowly, obscenely, as you grind your hips ever so slightly against him.

Luigi’s pupils dilate instantly, his jaw tightening, nostrils flaring just slightly as he watches you with that heavy, stunned adoration he can never quite hide.

The pad of his thumb strokes your cheekbone tenderly, almost reverently, as if he can't quite believe you're real — his sweet girl, stuffed full of his cock, looking up at him with those wide, helpless eyes.

You moan low in your throat around the cherry, feeling him throb inside you, feeling the heat of him radiate up through your body. And then, still grinding softly on his cock, you begin working the stem between your tongue and teeth, slowly, deliberately tying it into a knot.

A soft, filthy noise vibrates from deep in Luigi’s chest — a strangled growl of possessive pride.

"Fuck, baby girl," he breathes, his hand cupping the back of your neck now, thumb still stroking softly along your jaw.

When you finally finish, you stick out your tongue to show him the knotted stem proudly, cheeks flushed, lips glistening.

"You’re incredible," he murmurs thickly, voice rough around the edges with barely contained need. "That’s my girl. So filthy... and so beautiful for me.”

He leans in and plucks the knotted stem from your tongue with his teeth, tossing it lazily into a nearby napkin, all without looking away from you for a second.

You squirm in his lap, feeling the heat and need growing unbearable now, and you start trying to bounce on his cock, desperate for more friction, more connection, more everything.

But Luigi clamps his hands firmly on your hips, holding you down easily with that calm strength that makes you melt.

"Shh, I told you to keep still," he laughs softly, the sound low and indulgent. "Not yet."

You whine pathetically, trying to move again, but he keeps you pinned.

"You’ll make yourself sick, bouncing on me with all that fruit in your belly," he scolds gently, thumb caressing your cheekbone. "You don’t want that, do you?"

You pout, nuzzling into his neck, your whole body thrumming with need.

"Be good," he murmurs, his arms wrapping fully around you now, his cock buried deep and pulsing inside you. "Just sit here with me and savor this, baby.”

You have no choice but to obey, still stuffed full of him, your walls clenching instinctively around his cock with every tiny shift of your hips, every shivery breath you take.

Luigi’s big hands move up, combing slowly through your hair, fingers weaving carefully through the soft braid, straightening the flower petals nestled within it. His touch is so tender, so loving, it makes tears sting behind your eyes.

He whispers against your temple, smoothing your hair back. "My sweet spring baby."

You moan softly, pressing even closer, clinging to him, your heart feeling too big for your chest.

As he continues combing through your hair, slow and patient, he leans down to nuzzle your ear.

"Where do you want to go tonight?" he murmurs. "Somewhere by the water, maybe? A little trattoria tucked away from the crowds?"

You nod against him, too overwhelmed to answer properly. He smiles against your skin and kisses your hair.

"Whatever you want," he promises. "Decide later."

And so you sit there, wrapped around each other in the golden light, your body stretched wide and full around him, the scent of fruit and sun and salt lingering in the air, your hearts beating in slow, perfect rhythm together.

Despite the comfort, your thighs burn from the effort of staying so still as you’re straddling him. His cock throbs deep inside your soaked, stretched pussy, and you cling tighter to his broad shoulders, breathing him in — that delicious mix of sunscreen, clean sweat, and sun-warmed soap that clings to his skin — while he calmly reaches for another cherry from the bowl beside you.

But before he feeds it to you, Luigi shifts a little, tilting his head to look down between your bodies with lazy, fascinated pleasure.

The mess between you is obscene now. Your slick is everywhere — glistening along the thick base of his cock, smeared wet and sticky over his bare thighs, dripping slowly onto the chair beneath you both. His precum is leaking steadily from his tip, pooling warmly inside you and spilling out around where your bodies are joined.

With a low chuckle, he dips two fingers lazily into the mess gathering along his thigh — thick and shiny and stringing between his skin and yours — and lifts it to your mouth without hesitation.

"Open, dolcezza," he says, voice like velvet, so soft and sure it makes your stomach twist with need.

You part your lips instantly, so obedient, so needy for anything he gives you, and he pushes his fingers between your lips, smearing the taste of you both across your tongue.

You moan around his fingers, cheeks flushing deep red as you taste it — sweet, musky, salty, the proof of how much you want him and how much he wants you, sticky and rich and intimate. He watches you with blown pupils, his thumb brushing so gently over your jaw as you suck on his fingers, tasting every drop.

"That’s it," he praises lowly, slipping his fingers free with a wet pop.

Before you can beg for more, he’s already pressing a cherry to your lips, his thumb wiping a smear of slick from the corner of your mouth tenderly.

"Now this," he says with a crooked smile, slipping the fruit past your lips.

You take it with a soft little whine, still tasting him faintly even as the sweet juice bursts across your tongue. You chew and swallow obediently, rocking your hips ever so slightly on his cock — not enough to disobey, but enough that your clit catches deliciously on the slight movement.

Luigi watches every single twitch and tremble of your body, the veins in both his neck and his cock jumping as he fights to stay patient. His big hands run soothingly up and down your spine, grounding you.

"You’re my messy little girl," he murmurs, his voice thick with pride and hunger. "Look at you... stuffed full of cock, tasting how sweet you are for me."

You whimper brokenly, burying your face against his neck, desperate for more.

But Luigi just combs slowly through your hair again, fingers tugging gently through the petals still braided into the strands, as if you have all the time in the world. As if sitting on his cock like this, soaking him, trembling, dripping, is the most normal and natural thing in the world. At least it is for the both of you.

"I know, baby, I know you’re feeling full. Just rest with me,” he murmurs against your shoulder as your head rests on his.

You moan helplessly, rocking just a little more, chasing any tiny bit of friction you can steal, and Luigi hums a soft warning against your ear.

"Behave yourself," he reminds you, his tone indulgent but firm.

You nod, teary-eyed, nuzzling against him, inhaling the familiar, grounding scent. "You smell so good, Lu," you whisper without thinking, drunk on him.

He chuckles, low and pleased, kissing your temple. Then he shifts under you, his broad hands sliding down to your hips with a firm, grounding touch. You shudder against him as his cock twitches deep inside you, and just when you think you couldn’t possibly need him more, he murmurs low against your temple:

"Sorry, baby."

He pulls out of you in one slow, dragging slide, every thick inch slipping from your soaked pussy with a lewd, wet sound that makes your cheeks burn.

You whine — high and needy — a pathetic, broken noise that spills out before you can even think to stop it, your thighs quivering from the loss of him. The emptiness is devastating, and you chase his cock instinctively, trying to grind yourself back onto him.

"Shh," he coos, his voice deep and teasing. "You crying for your man’s cock?”

You whimper again, burying your face against his neck, but he’s relentless — dragging the head of his cock up between your soaked folds, smearing the mess of your slick and his precum all over you. He’s hot and heavy against your pussy, shaft slick and shining, every vein and ridge glistening with the mixture of your arousal.

Each slow stroke catches on your swollen clit, making you gasp and jerk against him, your thighs shaking with the effort of staying still. His dark pubic hair gets slick too, glistening with the mess you’re making together, sticking slightly to his skin with every lazy grind of his cock against you.

Luigi watches you intently, biting his bottom lip as he drags the thick head against your entrance, against your folds, making everything even wetter, even messier.

"You’re so pretty like this," he murmurs, almost to himself, his voice rough and reverent. "When you’re all messy for me."

He pulls back slightly, smacks his cock against your clit, and you jolt in his lap with a cry, your whole body shivering from the sharp pleasure.

"Sensitive," Luigi murmurs, enjoying the way you melt against him.

You sit there, straddling him, your pink babydoll clinging sweetly to your hips and the tops of your thighs, the delicate sheer fabric already damp where it brushes your messy pussy. The thin straps have slid off your shoulders from all the movement, exposing more glowing, sun-kissed skin. The flowers braided into your hair are slightly askew now — white and pink and yellow petals tangled in the messy strands — and your face is flushed, lips parted, eyes glassy with need.

You look like a perfect, ruined angel in his lap — barefoot, beautiful, body trembling and slick, marked by him.

"La mia ragazza," he murmurs, hands running up and down your sides, slow and possessive. "My pretty angel."

He lets his cock rest against your folds, leaking heavily now, the thick bead of precum mixing into the slick already dripping from you, making everything between your legs shine and stick deliciously.

Without warning, he dips his fingers into the mess again — two thick fingers glistening with your combined arousal — and brings them up to your lips.

"Open, sweetheart," he commands gently.

You obey instantly, mouth falling open, tongue lolling out a little. He slides his fingers into your mouth, and you suck greedily, your eyes fluttering closed at the taste of both of you together — musky, salty, sweet.

While his fingers are still in your mouth, he grabs another strawberry with his free hand, holding it to your lips. You moan softly around his fingers and bite into the fruit at the same time, the juice bursting messily across your tongue.

Strawberry juice dribbles down the corners of your mouth, mixing with the sheen of slick already smeared there. A drop nearly splatters onto your babydoll, and Luigi chuckles, pulling his fingers free with a wet pop.

"Careful, baby," he coos, smearing the dripping mixture of strawberry juice and arousal from your mouth across your cheek and chin with slow, teasing strokes. "You’re making such a mess."

You giggle breathlessly, wriggling on his lap, the movement making his cock rub hot and heavy against your folds again.

"Sorry, Lu," you breathe, voice small and sweet and a little ruined. "M'sorry..."

He just smiles fondly, shaking his head slightly as he wipes the juice and slick across your skin like he’s painting you with it, leaving you glistening, marked, utterly his.

"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs. "You’re perfect. Just gotta be careful... don’t wanna ruin that pretty lingerie, huh? It’s my favorite.”

You shake your head shyly, bottom lip trembling slightly as you lean into his touch, desperate for more, for anything he’ll give you.

"Need you," you whisper, voice cracked and desperate.

"I know," he coos, stroking your hair again, rearranging the disheveled braid and tucking a loose petal behind your ear. "I know, beautiful girl. You’re doing so well for me."

He kisses your messy cheek, tasting the mix of strawberry and salt on your skin, and you sigh, clinging to him, your whole body alight and strung tight.

Still, he doesn't slide back inside you yet. Instead, he keeps rubbing his cock against your folds lazily, smearing every inch of you with slick and precum, making sure you stay messy and desperate in his arms.

And then, so slowly it makes your head spin, he tilts your hips down with a firm hand on your waist and eases just the tip of his cock back inside you.

A slow, hot stretch — your walls parting inch by inch, fluttering around him, welcoming him back in.

You both gasp softly at the feeling.

"There we go," he coaxes, almost a whisper, nuzzling his nose into your temple. "Take me slow, beautiful girl... that's it..."

The thick length of him fills you, spreading you deliciously wide. He rocks you just a little to help you sink lower, his hands steadying you as you moan helplessly against his neck.

"So tight," he mutters, almost reverent. "So warm..."

He counts quietly under his breath, the words vibrating against your skin as you sink down on him:

"One... two... three inches... good girl..."

"Four... five... almost there, sweetheart..."

"Six... seven... that's it, all of it, dolcezza..."

You sob a soft, desperate little noise into his shoulder when you're fully seated again, stuffed full of every thick inch. His cock throbs deep inside you, nestled snug and hot, his pubes brushing damply against your over-sensitive clit.

He presses a slow, heavy-handed smack to your ass, making you jolt on his lap with a sharp gasp.

"Such a good girl for me," he coos, his hand soothing over the spot immediately after, thumb rubbing lazy circles over your hot skin. "You love sitting pretty on my cock, hm?"

You nod, tears stinging your lashes, but he just laughs softly — so in love with you he could drown in it — and kisses your cheek.

And then he murmurs casually against your ear:

"Pick up the flowers, baby."

You blink, confused for a second, so he tips his chin toward the little pile of wildflowers you’d picked earlier, now scattered messily across the kitchen table — tiny white blossoms, pink buds, golden yellow petals.

You reach out, gathering them up carefully, your bare thighs quivering around him.

"Tell me what you picked," he murmurs, one big palm cupping your ass possessively, the other sliding up to tease your breast through the thin, sheer fabric of your babydoll. His thumb flicks slowly over your nipple, making you arch into him helplessly, gasping at the electric shiver it sends through you.

Your voice is breathless, shaky, as you speak:

"Um... white jasmine... pink daisies... I think... and some little... little yellow ones..." You trail off with a whimper as he tweaks your nipple through the fabric, your hips rolling in tiny, instinctive circles over his cock.

"Good girl," he soothes, his voice a low purr against your cheek. "My beautiful baby, picking all the prettiest ones."

He keeps teasing your breast with lazy, possessive strokes, the warmth of his hand branding you even through the thin fabric of your babydoll. The soft petals brush against your wrist as you hold the flowers clumsily, your fingers trembling.

"You’re making such a pretty mess, sweetheart," Luigi murmurs, almost fondly, as he glances down.

Your thighs are glistening even more now, smeared with the mix of slick and precum, and every tiny movement you make presses his cock deeper against that sweet spot inside you, making you gasp.

"You feel so good," you whine against his neck, so overwhelmed you could cry.

"I know, baby," he soothes, planting a kiss to your hair, inhaling the scent of sunshine, flowers, and your skin.

You look like a dream in his lap: barefoot, pink babydoll hitched high on your hips, petals tangled in your messy braid, your cheeks flushed and shiny with a mix of strawberry juice and slick. His big hand palms your breast slowly, thumbing over your hard nipple, while the other hand holds you steady against him, thick fingers splayed wide over your ass and waist.

"Talk to me, princess," he urges softly, hand squeezing your hip. "Tell me more about your flowers."

You cling to him, babbling shyly about the ones you picked, your breath hitching each time he rocks his hips just a little — enough to grind your clit against his pelvis but not enough to let you ride him properly.

"So pretty," you whisper, voice shaking as you talk about the flowers — but you’re not really talking about the flowers anymore, not when the only thing you can think about is the way he’s keeping you split open around him, stuffed full, so much you can hardly breathe.

"You’re pretty," Luigi murmurs. His big hands roam lazily, petting your messy braid, tracing along your flushed neck, smoothing down your bare spine, until he’s sliding one hand up under the hem of your babydoll. The fabric rides high, baring your ass completely where you sit perched on him.

"Keep talking," he coaxes, thumb brushing teasing circles over the sensitive skin at the top of your thigh. "Don’t get shy on me while you’re stuffed full of my cock, angel. Tell me more about your little flowers, huh?"

You try — you really do — but your breath hitches again, voice breaking when he grinds up into you just slightly harder. Your thighs spasm around his hips. You’re soaked, throbbing, stuffed full, your pussy gripping him like a vice.

And then, while you’re still stammering through your broken sentences, Luigi reaches for the little bowl of fruit again. He selects a plump, ripe strawberry, and holds it up to your lips.

You part your lips obediently just like before, dazed and pliant. He presses the berry into your mouth, smirking when you close your teeth around it — juice immediately spilling over your tongue, sweet and tart, sticky on your lips.

And while you chew and moan softly around the fruit, his free hand slides between your bodies, down the curve of your stomach, slipping under the rucked-up hem of your babydoll.

Two fingers, warm, sure, so achingly slow, find your clit where it's flushed and throbbing, swollen from the constant friction. He starts to rub. Barely any pressure. Just the slightest tease: slow, steady circles.

"Shh, there you go," Luigi coos, nuzzling your temple.

Your whole body trembles, caught between the overwhelming fullness of his cock inside you, the dizzying sweetness of the fruit on your tongue, and the maddening slow tease of his fingers stroking your clit in tight, lazy spirals.

The petals still tangled in your messy braid brush against your flushed shoulders every time you move. Your pink babydoll clings damply to your overheated skin, the sheer fabric riding high over your hips, exposing the soft roundness of your ass where Luigi keeps you pressed tight against him.

He breathes you in — the sweet, sun-warmed scent of your skin and the faint perfume of crushed flowers. His thumb strokes the corner of your mouth, smearing a bit of sticky strawberry juice there, and you whimper at the gentle touch.

Your breath hitches when Luigi finally tilts your chin up with two fingers, the pad of his thumb sweeping across your sticky, strawberry-smeared lips. He looks at you like he’s starving: hazel eyes burning, jaw flexed.

"Come here, baby," he says, low and soft.

You barely have time to react before his mouth crashes down on yours, urgent and hungry. The kiss is messy from the start — open-mouthed, desperate, the taste of sweet fruit and your own need coating both your tongues as you moan helplessly into him.

His tongue pushes deep into your mouth, tasting the lingering syrupy strawberry juice and the faint taste of his precum mixed with your slick from earlier. You whine into him, hips instinctively grinding down against his lap.

You feel him smile into the kiss — that lazy, cocky smirk you know so well — but he still doesn’t let you move too much. His big hands lock around your hips, squeezing hard enough to bruise, guiding you into slow, heavy grinds against the thick heat inside you without letting you lift up, not even an inch.

"No," he murmurs against your mouth when you try to bounce, voice deep and teasing. "I’ll let you grind now, baby, but don’t bounce.”

You nod, dizzy, clinging to his shoulders. Then he slides his hands higher, gripping the soft curve of your ass in both palms, kneading and squeezing like he owns you — and he does, with the way you’re stretched open, helpless, gasping into his mouth.

In one rough, smooth motion, he pulls the top of your babydoll down, baring your breasts to the cool air of the kitchen. Your nipples harden instantly, flushed and sensitive.

Luigi groans low in his throat when he pulls back — you’re so beautiful, so messy, perched on his cock in your soft pink lingerie, your braid loose and falling apart, petals sticking in your tangled hair.

"Look at you," he breathes, dragging his mouth down from yours to kiss the corner of your mouth, then the sticky line of your jaw, down to your neck. "My sweet, messy girl."

You feel the rough scrape of his unshaven jaw against your throat as he nips and kisses and savors every inch of you he can reach. One big hand comes up to cup your breast — his palm broad and calloused, so warm — and he thumbs your nipple, the motion timed with the slow, shallow grinds of your hips.

Your whole body rocks gently— stuffed so full of him you feel every throb, every twitch of his cock pulsing against your walls.

“Yeah, baby, come on, I got you,” he coos, and you shudder when he bites your lower lip, pulling gently before kissing you again, sloppier this time — tongues tangling, sharing the taste of fruit, heat and pure aching want.

You pull back and hum innocently, fluttering your lashes at him — and then, you reach over to the bowl of fruit to pluck a bright red cherry.

"For you," you whisper, your voice still breathless and dainty, like a little secret between you.

Luigi laughs low in his chest, and you feel his cock twitch at the sight of you all flushed and sparkling, offering him something so small and sweet. He parts his lips, and you pop the cherry in.

He eats the fruit, and then you watch, wide-eyed and beaming, as he works the stem between his tongue and teeth, slow and deliberate. His eyes stay locked on yours — heavy-lidded, dark and amused — as his tongue moves inside his mouth, twisting and curling with casual skill.

You wriggle a little on his lap, grinding down just a tiny bit, feeling his cock pulse inside you, thick and hot. He hums, the sound vibrating against your chest where you're pressed together, and after a few more seconds, he sticks his tongue out — revealing the cherry stem tied into a perfect little knot, just like you’d showed him earlier.

You dissolve into soft, sweet giggles, hiding your face against his shoulder as he laughs, pulling you closer.

"Che ragazza cattiva," he teases softly — what a naughty girl — one hand stroking up your spine, the other squeezing your ass gently as you squirm in his lap.

You lift your head again, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with giddy affection. He catches your face in both hands — so big, so careful — and kisses you sloppily, without any hurry, tongues tangling and lips sticky with fruit and need.

You melt against him completely, moaning quietly into his mouth when his cock twitches again inside you, sending another lazy wave of pleasure through your body.

When he finally pulls back, you’re both grinning, foreheads pressed together, breathing eachother in.

"You’re a dream," he murmurs, soft as he brushes a few stray flower petals from your tangled braid.

You nod, dizzy and dainty and perfect in his arms, and you snuggle into him — still stuffed full, still sparkling with strawberry juice and love and a mess only he could make of you.

🍒

tags: @luiluvr @velvet-kissesss @multi-culti-girl @annanotherthingg @palmersluvr @lilbadblueeee @fligniuz @briarloves @daydreamingwithluigi @alleviatcd @mangionesdoll @dracula-reborn @bambimangione

fresh out the slammer

luigi mangione x reader

luigi had been gone for three years up until now. you stayed for as long as you could possibly bare, but luigi had dwelled on his destined fate the second he was arrested. he knew it was over, even as he presumed his innocence for the entirety of the trial. he let you go for you, not for himself. he thought of you every single day up until his abrupt freedom landed unexpectedly in his lap. fresh out the slammer, he knew who his first call would be to.

inspired by fresh out the slammer by the one and only, taylor swift.

warnings: SMUT OFC !

notes: hi guys this is my first time posting my fics on here, i usually post on my wattpad @/rejexts. i hope yall enjoy if anyone reads this. also. i am picturing the first male character as nicholas alexander chaves so… do with that info what you will :)

∞ ☼｡𖦹 ° . ⋆♡

"hey, are you good?"

you snap out of the trance you had been in as your co-worker, blake, spoke in your direction. you looked down at your right hand, realizing you had a death grip on the pen you were holding.

"yeah, all good." you muster a fake smile as you gage your attention back towards the paper you were mindlessly writing on.

a year ago, you were spending this time writing letters to luigi in the same exact spot. now, your writings only had to do with work. life moves on, just as luigi had.

"so, i was thinking," blake changed the topic, walking up to you. "if you're free tonight, would you wanna come over again?" his mouth curled into a grin.

it was cute, and he was cute. but it was merely a distraction from the ache you felt deep in your chest everyday. a few months ago, he had taken you on a date. you continued to casually hang out- which lead to casually hooking up. you thought that maybe, just maybe, you could move on with your life.

no matter how many times blake tried to woo you over, it all felt superficial, like you were living this lie. you desperately tried leaning into it, but it was becoming exhausting.

"let me think about it, i'm so tired and i-"

"shhh, ah ah ah," the light haired boy interrupted. "i know you've been going through it. let me take care of you tonight, yeah?"

you looked up at the boy sheepishly, giving him a genuine smile this time. he really was trying, and you knew he cared for you.

it wasn't luigi, though.

"okay, okay," you throw your hands up in defense. "i'll come."

"yeah you will." the boy winked at you before trotting back to his desk. you playfully rolled your eyes as you continued on your work. going to see blake had to be better than moping around at home, right?

as the end of the work day neared, you packed up your belongings and began your journey home; back to the small house you and luigi had started renting together. although now, you only arrive home to your two cats.

unlocking the door, you felt your phone buzz with a call. assuming it was blake, you pulled it out and answered with no hesitation.

"y/n?" a deep, familiar italian voice ventured from the other end.

your blood ran cold, and a deep churning feeling hit the pit of your stomach like an explosion. you clutched the phone so hard in your hand that it became ghostly pale and your left eye twitched.

"it's luigi." the voice stated, accompanied by a deep, shaky breath. he seemed just as anxious as you were.

before you could even respond, it was like somebody else was puppeteering you like a doll. your death-like grip on the phone turned soft as you swiftly removed it from your ear, and pressed the red button to end the call.

no.

that couldn't have been real, right?

sighing deeply, you unlock your phone and scroll a through your recent call history.

lui <3

phone call (incoming)

15 seconds ago

he had called you, on his phone. his real cell phone number that you had saved in your phone, not one of the thousand different phone numbers from prison.

it had to be some sick joke. you hadn't received any form of communication from luigi for almost an entire year. his trial had been ongoing it's third year, and he had written to you for the last time as his freedom steered further and further away.

you continued to write to him, even though he told you that you needed to let him go. as much as he loved you, he didn't want you to spend the rest of your life waiting on sugar-coated hope. day after day, week after week, your letters began returning back home to you, unopened by luigi.

you were angry. abandoned by the man who at the beginning of this mess, told you that he promised it'd always be you two. and you promised to never leave his side, no matter the outcome.

until he left you.

tears prick the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. you were beyond confused as to why somebody would call you from luigi's phone. in your mind, that's what had happened. luigi was never going to see freedom, therefore making his call impossible; unless it was someone else.

or maybe you were just going crazy.

you coarse your fingers through your hair as you suck in a deep breath. the only logical idea in your mind was to pretend like nothing happened, and to get to blake's as soon as possible. even though you didn't exactly feel a spark with the boy, he was still a good friend to lean on.

you made your way upstairs, changing into comfier clothes and doing everything in your power to distract yourself.

"i just gotta get out of this house." you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed your keys and headed towards your front door.

you swiftly unlocked it, swing it open, and run directly into a hard, tall figure.

you wobble backwards before two pairs of strong, large hands firmly grip your shoulders to steady yourself. blinking upwards towards the man, it doesn't take long for you to realize who this is.

"you heading somewhere?" a sly smirk questioned down at you cockily.

"this isn't real," you mumble before pushing past him, and the contact of your hands with his chest sends chills through your entire body. "you're not here."

"why did you hang up on me?" luigi's voice is deep and hoarse, ignoring your delusions. before you can take one step further, luigi wraps his hand around your wrist and lightly yanks you backwards towards him. you're now facing him, inches away from his chest as you stare up at him in awe. "where are you going?" he questioned, oblivious to the fact that this was the first time you two had seen each other in years.

he looked different from the luigi you knew. luigi was always muscular, but he had gained a noticeable amount of muscle weight as his arms filled out his long-sleeved blue t-shirt. his hair was thick and longer than usual, his black curls far more prominent than you've ever seen them. he looked good, but exhausted, as thick brown bags lined his under eyes.

"how are you even here right no-"

"shhh," luigi hushed, pressing his pointer finger to your lips. his hand was cold, yet it sent electricity through you. "i missed you so much." he soothed, removing his finger from your lips and wrapping both of his arms around you and pulling you deep into his chest.

without hesitation, you embrace the man back. snaking your arms around him and breathing him in, he smells exactly like how he did before he went away, which forces tears to pry at the corners of your eyes. he squeezes you tighter, as if quietly telling you this was real.

"you left me," you mumble into luigi's chest, looking up at him. you were still held in his arms as he cocked his head down to face you. "you made me go insane." you choke.

"i know pretty girl, and for the rest of our lives i'm going to tell you how sorry i am," he hums, his lips turning into a genuine frown. "but for right now, let me take care of you."

luigi wraps both of his arms under your legs and swiftly picks you up bridal style, catching you off guard. the tears that threatened to fall earlier had disappeared, and now you were giggling at the boy. he grins down at you before making his way upstairs, holding you close in his arms. 

"what are you-"

before you can finish your sentence, luigi sets you down in the hallway right outside your door. the door to the room you once shared together, and now he was here, he was back.

"there's not any guy in there, yeah?" luigi questions sternly, furrowing his eyebrows towards the door.

"no," you laugh, giddiness coursing through your veins. "it's just been me here." you had so much to say, so much to ask, but right now, this felt enough. this felt like a fairytale.

"good," he grumbles, opening your door and intertwining his hand within yours. "or else i'd have to kill 'em.”

before you can respond, luigi has you pressed up against the hallway wall. you look up at him with doe eyes, and he looks down at you like you're his prey. he takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he embraces your cheek, running his thumb back and forth across it.

"can i?" luigi questions eagerly, licking his bottom lip as his eyes flicker to yours.

you don't even tell him yes; all you do is pull his mouth onto yours. his lips are initially cool to the touch, but as you pick up the pace they gradually warm. his lips move perfectly in-synch with yours as he lightly wraps his hand around your neck. squeezing gently, you can tell this really gets him going, as he then takes his tongue and runs it against your bottom lip, slipping it inside your mouth.

"i missed the way you taste," luigi murmurs against your lips, reconnecting his to yours immediately. "i missed you." he says breathlessly. he uses his free hand to slowly rub circles around your heat, lips still moving with yours at the same time. you had leggings on, yet he still knew exactly where to rub to get you going.

"fuck- lui," you gasp against his skin, leading him to pick up his speed. His large, veiny fingers moved at such a fast pace against you, your legs began to feel like jelly as the pleasure seared throughout the lower portion of your body.

"you have no idea," luigi paused to gently suck on the nape of your neck, swirling his tongue around on the sweetest spot. "no idea how much i thought of you..." his voice trailed as his tongue ventured lower and lower down your neck. the gentle, sweet sucking slowly began to turn into rough, delicate pinches. he was using his sharp canines to mark you, mark what belongs to him. "how much i dreamt about you..." he groaned against the bright red marks that now dotted your skin, soon to become purple. a reminder that he was real. your body shudders in response, a small gasp escaping your lips when luigi removes his two fingers from your heat, and begins to play with the waistline of your leggings.

"p-please," you beg, biting your bottom lip. every time his fingers touches your stomach, a flame lights within your stomach, making it churn in the best way possible. "do whatever you want, just please." you whine at the man, and his lips curl into a smirk above you.

"was already planning on it, sweetheart. you are mine," he growls, his voice dark with power. luigi had never acted this way with you, especially when the two of you were intimate. "come on." luigi stops playing with your waistband and instead, grabs a fist-full of the material and opens your bedroom door, pulling you in behind him.

luigi is quick to place his right hand on your stomach, lowering you down onto the bed. he hovers over you with ease, his arms now much bigger than they once used to be. this is the first time you're really able to look at him; he is freshly shaven, yet he still manages to look much more grown than before. his eyes which were once filled with light, are much darker now, starving for power, for you.

luigi hungrily meets your lips with his again, moving against you with so much passion, so much force. he opens up your legs and inserts himself between them, slowly grinding against you as his lips continue to pleasure your own. he wraps a single hand around your throat, and the more he continues to grind, the more you can feel how hard he is underneath his jeans. instinctively, you lower your hand down to his member, and begin massaging his bulge with the palm of your hand.

"uh-uh," luigi retorts, batting your hand away. "gonna make me cum, pretty girl... it's been so long." he finally takes his lips off of yours. "i want to work on you baby, make you feel everything you missed." he grins down at you, his eyes still dark with something you can't put a finger on. his words send a pack of butterflies down your throat to your stomach, making you gulp down the million emotions you were currently feeling.

"i want to see you, all of you," luigi commands, quickly pawing at the hem of your shirt. you nod at him, and he swiftly lifts it over your head, tossing it to the floor. he slips your sports bra up over your head with your help, then resumes his work on you. he sucks at your neck, your collarbone, until he gets to your breasts. "fuck.." he trails against your skin as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. he swirls his tongue around, causing ripples of pleasure to beam within you. using a free hand to gently pinch your other nipple and rub it between his pointer finger and thumb, he sucks down on the nipple he was already working on.

"god that- mmm..." you moan, gripping your bedsheets. "so good, lu."

"ohh yeah?" he draws out, sucking on your skin until he gets to your leggings. "let's get these off."

pulling your leggings down, luigi almost gasps at the sight of a naked you. he takes his long, middle finger and places it on your clit, rubbing small, agonizing circles. with each movement, it sends a jolt of clarity throughout your entire body, yearning for more.

out of nowhere, he slowly inserts his middle and pointer finger inside of you, his mouth gaped in surprise of how wet you were for him.

"i wanted to fuck you with my hands before i get to put my dick inside you... but fuck, i need to taste you, feel you squirm under my tongue, pretty baby." he huffs seconds before immediately placing his tongue on your clit, sucking intensely. you throb underneath him, the pleasure of his wet tongue almost becoming too much. he's in-between your legs while your back is propped up on a pillow, so you watch him passionately have his way with you. your hands grip his soft, curly locks so you have something to hold onto as you can feel yourself reaching the brink of an orgasm. your squirm so hard beneath him that he wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you down in place. his tongue continues to flick your clit, every so often dipping inside of your heat before he inserts his two fingers back inside of you. the pleasure is so good, it's too much, sending fireworks throughout. you want to scream, hot tears pricking the corners of your eyes as luigi continues to overstimulate you.

"mmm," he moaned against your region. "taste so fucking good, y/n."

his hands are much bigger than yours, so when he curls his fingers inside of you, he can hit spots you thought were unimaginable. you let out a long, drawn-out moan to advise him you were about to finish, which causes him to halt. it felt like he had just taken away everything from you, the pure pleasure, the itch he scratched, the warmness against your slit.

"baaaby," you whine, the absence of him felt cold.

"shhh," he cooed, sitting himself upright and unbuttoning his jeans. "i got you." he spoke. you joined him, helping him hastily toss his shirt off. the sight of this new, shirtless luigi left your jaw slacked open. he was always muscular, but abs now dotted his mid-section and his pecs were huge. he must've really worked on himself when he was away.

"i missed your pretty pussy." luigi spoke breathlessly, tossing his underwear to the ground, his hardened dick sprung out, pre-cum glistening at his tip.

you look at him with innocent eyes, before rolling onto your stomach for him. you lie like that for half a second before luigi's huge hands wrap around you and aggressively toss you back onto your back, lying and looking up at him.

"no," he stops to align his dick with your slit, slick with a mixture of your own juices and luigi's spit. "i wanna fuck you like this, i want you to look me in the eyes while you take me." he growls before slowly inserting his tip, teasing you and himself. him being so blessed, it only takes his tip to begin stretching you out, searing pleasure rippling within.

"please," was all you could manage, trying to slip him inside of you with your hips. "i need you lu, i need you." you begged.

"i love hearing you beg," he snickers down at you sinfully, pulling ever so slightly away from you. "gonna regret that later, love. gonna make me fuck you harder than i ever have."

within seconds, luigi plows his full-length inside of you, catching you off guard. pain surges through you, before becoming replaced with pure bliss.

"fuck!" you scream out, gritting your teeth as you look up at luigi in awe. he is so concentrated on you, on loving you, fucking you, making you feel so good. he fucked you like nothing else in the world mattered to him right now. "luuuu." you purr, drawing out his nickname.

"god, you feel so fucking good." he seethes, taking a moment to really feel you. to feel how deep he has his cock buried inside of you, stretching you, hitting every sweet spot you longed for. he slowly takes his length out of you, then pushes himself back in, moaning until he's all the way in again. he begins slow, bucking his hips so he slides all the way in, and all the way out. the pleasure slowly builds within you with every slow pump luigi takes. "so... tight... for me." luigi buries his face within your neck, slowly starting to pick up the speed while continuing to mumble profanities.

"oh... my god," you whimper, his thrusts have picked up speed, but now he slams into you with much more force. a string of moans and curse words fly from your mouth as you grip his neck with your hands, nails digging into his perfect skin. the pleasure was almost far too much, and he was hitting every spot perfectly over and over and over. "baby i- i'm gonna-"

"not yet," he commands, now really picking up how fast his dick pumps into your wetness. he pulls his head up from the crook of your neck.  "not yet baby, hold it for me. be a good girl and wait for me, yeah?" he's breathless, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. he takes his hand, squeezing your neck so tight you start to see little black stars. he's using his grip on your neck to plunge into you as rough as he can.

it's far too much. luigi is fucking you so hard, so deep, you can feel yourself coming completely undone beneath him. that heavy, fluttery feeling is pitted deep within your stomach, and it's about to wash over you.

"come on baby, i'm almost there," luigi pants. "wait for me." he demands, his tone hoarse. you're so wet that you can feel yourself dripping, and your breathing becomes erratic. he's fucking you relentlessly, until you're absolutely dumb, raw to the touch.

"i- i can't lu, i'm gonna-"

"ohh fuck," luigi's voice is low and raspy as he releases his load into you, filling you up with everything he has to offer. you squirm and wriggle beneath him, reaching that pure bliss climax you had been holding out for.  "fuuuuck." he pumps into you one last time before pulling out, his cum spilling out of you as he does so.

you're breathing deep, hyperventilating almost, as your legs begin to shake beneath him. luigi's face goes soft as he's quick to his feet, racing to grab a towel. he ignores himself first, wiping down every wet part of you while you lie there and look up at him. he makes sure every part of you is clean before he wipes himself down, and crawls back into your bed.

"hey, i got you." luigi hummed , pulling you into his arms tightly. he gave you a tight squeeze as your legs still shook and your breathing was rapid. "you did so good f'me baby, i'm so proud of you."

you fought back tears, wrapping yourself around the man as you let him hold you. you were so overwhelmed by the stimulation, and the fact that this was real.

"it's okay baby, you're okay," he continued, stroking your hair. you turned your head to look up at him, hot tears streaming down your face. "i'm here, i'm not leaving again. i love you."

"h-how?" your voice was frail from luigi's necklace earlier. "how are you here?" your voice squeaked.

"well," luigi adjusts himself so he's propped up and can see your face, but he still has you wrapped in his arm. "i'm a little hurt you didn't see."

"i blocked your name from everything." you admitted. it was true. after receiving your letters to him, unopened, you made sure you would never see anything about him again. it sure was hard, with how big his case was, but it brought you somewhat peace for the time being.

"and i don't blame you. i didn't think i was ever going to see you again." luigi plants a kiss on your forehead, wiping the tears from your face. "the prosecution happened not too long ago, and they found me not guilty."

"what?" you were shocked. "you're not going back?"

"i'm not going back," he laughs. "i got out today. this was the first place i came."

"but-" your brain felt fuzzy and confused. "but how did-"

"i'll answer everything baby. i promise. right now, let me hold you, make you feel better. we've been through so much." he hushes, running his finger across your lips.

"i love you more, by the way." you grin at him.

"never in a million years."

write us sthg like electricity is out, it will be for hours, Luigi decides it's a good opportunity to play cards he explains the rules to you but it bores the shit out of u and u cant stop staring at his neck and arms and he notices

outage

summary: when the power goes out, you find a rather interesting way to pass the time with your boyfriend.

warnings: smut, light bondage (lu is tied up and also blindfolded😣) breast sucking, p in v, breeding, female masturbation

notes: don’t like don’t read 🤪🤪🤪🤪

──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────

you and luigi are cuddled up in bed, wrapped in soft blankets, the tv at the end of your shared bed lighting up with mario kart. he’s propped up against the wall, one arm around you, while you’re curled up against his chest, wearing nothing but his blue bali shirt that he wore religiously.

the comforting scent of him clings to the fabric, loose and cozy on you. he’s always said his clothes are your clothes, a sentiment that makes you feel even closer. his bare legs tangle with yours under the covers, his free hand resting on your hip as the nintendo switch hums to life.

“i can’t wait to absolutely kick your ass.” luigi says, his voice laced with playful confidence as he scrolls through the character select screen. he pauses, then showcases a cocky grin, locking in his choice.

“i’m gonna go with luigi. the BEST character in the franchise.” he declares, giving you a cheeky side eye. “who you gonna try to beat me with, huh?”

snorting softly, you navigate the character select screen, pausing briefly before picking peach. “i’m gonna go with my girl peach. watch, she’ll fucking DESTROY you.” you say, confirming your choice with a smug glance his way.

he laughs, his hand grazing your hip in a teasing nudge as he leans in, his bare chest warm against your side. “you’re all talk,” he shoots back, his voice dripping with playful bravado. “peach doesn’t stand a chance against my skills.” smirking, he settles back against the wall, controller in hand, as moonview highway loads up, the vibrant track lighting up the tv.

the countdown blares, and you both lean forward, focused. “three, two, one, go!” you call out, your kart surging forward with a boost. luigi’s kart is right beside you, weaving expertly through the track, but you nudge his arm with a grin. “hey, watch it lu! or you’re going down!”

“down? did you forget that i’m untouchable?” he retorts, laughing as he tries to bump your kart off the track. “take this!” his luigi kart edges ahead, but you’ve got a trick up your sleeve.

smirking, you lean over, one hand playfully covering his eyes. “hey! stop it! that’s cheating!” he protests, chuckling as his kart swerves, narrowly dodging traffic.

“what’s the matter baby? can’t see?” you tease, giggling as you keep your hand there a moment longer, your peach kart speeding past with a red shell locked and loaded. but before you can launch it, a sharp crack rings out, and the tv goes dead, the room plunging into pitch black silence as the power cuts out.

luigi’s laugh fades into a frustrated huff. “seriously? right when i was winning?” he mutters, gently pulling your hand from his eyes, his tone tinged with annoyance at the outage.

you try to laugh it off, leaning against his chest, the blue bali shirt still clinging to your body. “guess the universe is team peach!” you say lightly, but the quiet of the darkened room presses in, the cozy vibe strained as luigi’s arms wrap tighter around you, both of you sitting in the stillness, blankets tangled around you.

he lets out a soft chuckle, shifting to pull you closer. “oh, be quiet.” he teases, his voice warm and playful despite the power cut’s weight. he tilts his head, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he lets out a quiet sigh, the sound mingling with the silence.

a flush creeps up your cheeks, the warmth of his kiss sparking a shy smile as you nestle closer, the darkness hiding your blush. “okay, fine, but we gotta figure this out,” you murmur, grabbing your phone from the tangle of blankets.

the screen’s glow lights up your face as you pull up your power company’s website, scrolling through outage updates. “let’s see… looks like they’re saying power should be back in a couple hours…” you say, glancing at luigi, his face softly illuminated by the phone’s light.

“a couple hours?” luigi says with a grin, his tone light as he shifts, reaching for the nightstand. “alright. i’ve got cards around here somewhere.” he digs out a tattered deck, smirking. “wanna play? lose owes the winner breakfast in bed.”

you raise an eyebrow, setting your phone aside. “deal. but don’t start crying when i beat you.”

──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────

moments later, you’re both sitting cross legged on the bed, blankets pushed aside, a small candle on the bedside table casting a warm, flickering glow over the card deck between you. luigi is enthusiastically explaining the rules of crazy eights, his voice filled with excitement as he drones on.

you’re already bored, tuning out his little rant, your eyes drawn to his neck, where the striking, purple hickeys you left last night stand out sharply against his skin.

your mind slips back to the previous evening, when you rode him with fierce, unrelenting intensity, hips slamming and grinding in a relentless, feverish cadence. his hands gripped your thighs, fingers sinking into your flesh as his loud groans filled the air, fueling your fire.

you leaned forward, lips and teeth ravaging his neck, sucking with bruising force and biting hard, leaving dark, possessive marks as his body shook beneath you, your nails raking down his chest, marking your territory as you both lost yourselves in the wild, untamed passion.

“babe, are you even listening to me?” luigi’s voice cuts through, snapping you back to reality, his brow raised and a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he catches you staring.

“nope.” you say casually, giving a small shrug as your eyes now linger on his biceps.

luigi raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a curious smirk as he watches you, still catching his breath from moments before.

without a word, you shift, moving with deliberate grace to straddle his lap, your thighs settling over his as you press yourself close, the warmth of your body reigniting the heat between you. his hands instinctively find your hips, gripping lightly as he looks up at you, intrigued.

you lean in, your lips brushing just shy of his ear, voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “i’ve got a better idea.” you murmur, your tone teasing yet laced with promise, as you roll your hips ever so slightly, sparking a hungry glint in his eyes.

luigi’s grin deepens, his hands slipping from your hips to your backside, fingers gripping tightly as he draws you closer, the heat of his touch sparking a shiver down your spine. his voice, rough and thick with curiosity, rumbles as he angles his head to meet your gaze. “that so? care to share?” he teases, egging you on as his thumbs trace slow, deliberate circles against your skin.

your lips curl into a mischievous smile as you pull back slightly, just enough to let your fingers trail down his chest. without breaking eye contact, you tug at the hem of his shirt, slowly peeling it upward, exposing the taut muscles beneath. luigi lifts his arms, letting you slide the fabric off completely, and you toss it aside, your hands immediately returning to roam his bare skin, savoring the warmth and the way his muscles tense under your touch.

your fingers linger on his shoulders, tracing slow, deliberate paths as you tilt your head, a playful glint in your eyes. “you know that purple tie you always wear to formal events?” you say, your voice low and suggestive, a teasing edge to your words as you lean in closer, letting the implication hang in the charged space between you.

luigi’s smirk falters slightly, his eyes narrowing as a hint of nervous curiosity creeps into his expression. “yeah… what about it?” he asks, his voice tinged with a cautious edge, though the heat in his gaze betrays his intrigue as he shifts beneath you.

your lips curve into a sly grin, and you lean even closer, your breath warm against his skin. “give it here.” you reply, your tone commanding yet playful, the words carrying a spark of mischief as you hold his gaze, daring him to comply.

he hesitates for a moment, then lets out a low chuckle, the sound laced with both nerves and excitement. leaning to the side, he reaches for the bedside table, his fingers quickly finding the familiar purple tie draped over the edge. he grabs it, the silky fabric catching the dim light as he hands it to you, his eyes locked on yours, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty flickering in them.

you take the tie, letting it slide through your fingers as you flash him a wicked smile. “atta boy,” you murmur, your voice dripping with teasing authority.

then, leaning in close, you let your gaze drop to his hands before meeting his eyes again. “give me your wrists, lu.” you say, the command soft but firm, the tie dangling in your hand as you wait for him to obey.

his breath quickens, his cheeks flushing slightly as he fidgets beneath you, his usual confidence replaced by a nervous energy.

“w-wait, hold on…” he stammers, his voice cracking with a mix of excitement and apprehension. His eyes dart from the tie to your face, wide and searching. “are you gonna tie me up?” he asks, the words tumbling out in a flustered rush, his hands hovering uncertainly as he tries to figure out your intentions.

you smile, relishing in his flustered state, your eyes glinting with mischief as you lean in closer, letting the tie dangle teasingly in your hand. “your wrists, lu.” you repeat, your voice low and commanding, each word deliberate and leaving no room for argument.

luigi swallows hard, his flush deepening as he hesitates for a split second before slowly extending his wrists toward you, his movements tentative but obedient, his eyes never leaving yours. the vulnerability in his gaze sends a thrill through you as you take his wrists, your fingers brushing his skin as you loop the purple tie around them. with practiced ease, you knot the silky fabric tightly enough to secure his wrists together, the tie binding him firmly but not painfully.

still smiling, you tug the loose end of the tie and lean forward, guiding it toward the bed frame. you loop it through a slat, pulling it taut and tying it off with a deft knot, anchoring his bound wrists above his head.

he tugs lightly, testing the restraint, his breath quickening as he realizes he’s truly at your mercy, his nervous excitement palpable in the charged air between you.

his eyes meet yours, they’re wide and doe like, shimmering with a mix of vulnerability and anticipation. the flush still lingers on his cheeks as he waits, anticipating your next move.

without a word, you lean over to the bedside table, your fingers brushing against the drawer before pulling it open. you retrieve the familiar black blindfold he wore last christmas, its sleek fabric slightly worn but still striking, a teasing reminder of that heated holiday night.

holding it up, you let it dangle between your fingers, the sight of it drawing a soft, nervous whine from luigi as his eyes widen further, the tension between you sparking with new possibilities.

you lean in, your voice dropping to a low, seductive purr as you hold the blindfold just out of his grasp, relishing the growing tension. “want you to wear this for me,” you say, your tone a mix of command and playful tease, your eyes locked on his, urging him to surrender completely. “can you do that?”

luigi groans, his large, vulnerable eyes glinting with desperate longing. “god, please,” he gasps, his voice shaky but burning with need, “put it on me.”

your smirk eases into a gentle smile as you lean in, the black blindfold gliding through your fingers with careful precision. you slowly drape it over his head, settling the soft fabric over his eyes, adjusting it until it fits securely, enveloping him in darkness.

he gasps softly at the sensation, his body tensing for a moment before softening under your touch. with the blindfold secure, you cradle his face gently, your thumbs tracing along his jaw as you lean forward and press a lingering, tender kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth and the way he tilts toward you, seeking more.

easing back just enough to speak, your voice is soft, threaded with concern. “is this alright?” you ask, your fingers resting lightly on his cheeks, studying his face for any hint of uncertainty, though his quickened breaths suggest his willing surrender.

his eyes meet yours, warm and certain. “yes,” he murmurs, his voice low and earnest, before a small, pleading smile tugs at his lips. “kiss me again.”

you crack a smile, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw as you lean closer, the blindfold already snug around his head, cloaking him in darkness. his breath catches, anticipation evident in the slight parting of his lips. you press your mouth to his, starting with a slow, teasing brush of lips, savoring the softness. his hands grip your waist, fingers digging in as you deepen the kiss, your tongue sliding against his, hungry and insistent.

the blindfold sharpens his senses, drawing a soft moan from him as he leans into you, the kiss growing fervent, heat surging between you with every breathless, electric moment.

luigi’s wrists, bound tightly above his head, strain against the restraints, leaving him helpless to touch you. your lips crash against his in a fierce, consuming rhythm, tongues entwining as you lean into him, the heat of his body radiating against yours. a shaky whimper spills from him, vibrating against your mouth as you deepen the kiss, your fingers grazing his jaw to tilt his head just so.

another soft whimper escapes, his breath ragged and uneven, as the intensity surges, each kiss more ravenous and overwhelming, the blindfold amplifying every sensation into a torrent of fiery need.

you pull back just enough to catch your breath, and slowly, you slip off the blue bali shirt you’re wearing. its soft fabric brushing against your skin as you peel it away, leaving you completely naked.

the cool air prickles your skin, but the heat between you burns hotter. he can’t see you, the blindfold keeping him in darkness, but his sharp intake of breath tells you he senses the shift, the faint rustle of fabric betraying your movements.

luigi’s head tilts, straining to catch any sound, and his voice breaks the silence, low and laced with desperate curiosity. “what’re you doing?” he asks, the words quivering as his bound wrists jerk against the restraints.

you smirk, choosing not to respond immediately, and slide closer, settling directly in front of him. you spread your legs wide, and oh god… the sight of him… blindfolded, wrists tied above his head, utterly vulnerable, his chest heaving with ragged breaths… sends a surge of desire through you.

“god, look at you…” you murmur, your voice low and sultry, “all tied up, blindfolded… it makes me so fucking wet.”

your fingers glide down your body, parting your thighs further as you touch yourself, stroking slowly at first, then with more urgency, your slick fingers circling and teasing your clit. the wet sounds of your movements fill the air, deliberate and provocative, and his head snaps toward the noise, a choked whimper spilling from his lips as he realizes what you’re doing.

“you fucking monster…” he groans, his voice a mix of frustration and raw need, his wrists straining against the binds. his chest heaves, and he pleads, “at least let me watch, please…”

you smirk, leaning closer but keeping your touch steady, the heat of your own arousal building. “no,” you purr, voice low and teasing, “but you can listen. if you’re good, who knows… i might reward you after.”

the promise hangs, heavy and teasing, as you continue to touch yourself with brazen confidence. your fingers circle your swollen clit with slow, deliberate rubs, the slick, sensitive bud throbbing beneath your touch. the soft, wet sounds of your movements cut through the silence, each calculated glide amplifying the raw heat building within you and charging the air with anticipation.

every wet glide of your fingers over your clit pulls a shaky, desperate whimper from luigi, his body squirming with helpless need.

“stop squirming.” you command, your voice low and teasing, fingers pausing for a moment as you lean closer, letting the weight of your words hang in the air.

“i can’t help it,” he gasps, his voice thick with desperation, a pleading edge cutting through. “at least… ride my face… let me taste that sweet cunt.” he begs, the words tumbling out, raw and needy, his lips parting as he waits, every muscle taut with anticipation.

you let out a soft, teasing chuckle, your fingers pausing briefly as you lean in, your breath warm against his ear. “there’ll be plenty of time for that later.” you murmur, voice low and commanding, dripping with intent as you settle back, leaving his plea unanswered for now.

positioned just in front of him, thighs spread wide, a trembling moan spills from you, needy and low, as you slide two fingers into your sopping hole, curling them against your pulsing walls, pumping with a slow, deliberate rhythm that quickens, the obscene squelch of your soaked pussy filling the air.

your hips rock faintly, fingers diving deeper, slick with creamy arousal, each thrust coaxing another breathy moan from your throat. as you touch yourself, your eyes catch the noticeable tent in luigi’s sweatpants, the fabric straining against his obvious arousal, a sight that makes your lips curl with satisfaction.

luigi stays still in front of you, his body rigid with restraint, but his tortured whimpers and ragged groans escape, each of your moans drawing a pained sound from him. his bound wrists remain fixed, tied to the bed frame, the blindfold heightening every wet sound your slick fingers, your soft, pornagraphic moans, pushing him to the brink of insanity as he’s forced to listen, unable to move or see.

the coil in your stomach tightens, a hot, pulsing knot of pleasure growing more intense with every stroke. your fingers work faster, plunging deeper into your drenched core, curling against that sensitive spot that makes your thighs tremble.

the slick sound of your arousal grows louder, mingling with your escalating moans, each one more desperate and unrestrained than the last as you chase the edge. your hips buck slightly, your clit throbbing under the relentless circles of your thumb, the heat building to an unbearable peak.

luigi’s moans grow more frantic, his voice cracking with need as he listens to your every sound… the wet glide of your fingers, the shuddering gasps spilling from your lips. his whimpers turn into low, continuous groans, raw and helpless, the tent in his sweatpants twitching as your pleasure drives him further into a haze of tortured longing, his body trembling with the effort to stay still under the weight of his own denied desire.

the knot in your core tightens, a searing pulse of ecstasy swelling with each thrust of your fingers. you drive them deeper, quicker, curling against that sweet spot within your soaked core, your slick walls gripping them tightly.

the heat surges, your body shaking as you hover on the brink of release, every nerve sparking with bliss. leaning forward slightly, you taunt him, your voice a low, sultry tease.

“do you like listening to me play with my pussy, lu?” you ask, the words dripping with provocation as you let a particularly loud moan follow, pushing him further into his torment.

luigi’s response is a ragged, trembling groan, his voice thick with desperation. “yes… fuck, yes…” he chokes out, the words raw and fervent.

you smirk, his begging fueling your fire. your fingers keep working between your thighs, now rubbing your swollen, slick clit with slow, purposeful circles, the lewd sounds echoing in the charged quiet. a low, sultry moan spills from you, bold and unrestrained, as the pleasure surges, your hips grinding against your hand to chase the growing heat.

the sight of him… blindfolded and at your mercy… pushes you closer to the brink. your moans turn wild, loud and desperate, as your fingers move faster, drenched in your arousal, the tension inside you building to a breaking point.

you gasp sharply, and your body wracks with violent spasms as a ferocious orgasm rips through you, your fingers saturated with your dripping juices, frantically grinding against your swollen, pulsating clit as your hips thrash uncontrollably, milking every last convulsive wave of pleasure.

the obscene, sloppy noise of your soaking wet release echoes loudly, a brazen symphony of your climax. luigi lets out a tortured, animalistic groan at the sound, his body convulsing wildly against the unyielding restraints.

a raw, choking cry bursts from him as he comes hard in his pants, a hot, sticky flood surging through the fabric, the drenched, darkened patch spreading lewdly across his crotch and thighs, his blindfolded face twisted in frantic, helpless surrender as the vivid sound of your explosive orgasm obliterates his restraint, driving him into a shuddering, messy climax.

your gaze locks onto the glistening wet spot plastered against his sweatpants, the material clinging tightly to his skin, outlining every detail. a wicked smirk curls your lips as you lean in.

“did you just cum in your pants?” you taunt, voice dripping with playful mockery, your fingers grazing the edge of his jaw, feeling the faint stubble under your touch.

luigi’s chest heaves, his blindfolded face flushing crimson beneath the silk. “couldn’t help it,” he groans, his voice rough and thick with desperate need. “i don’t even need to see you, your pretty fucking noises alone are enough to get me off.” he confesses, each word trembling with sheer honesty.

his head tilts toward you, lips parted, quivering with anticipation. “kiss me please.” he begs, his voice soft yet laced with urgent hunger.

your lips smash against his in a ravenous, unrestrained kiss, tongues clashing in a wet, fervent tangle. his bound wrists jerk against the restraints above his head, a muffled whimper vibrating against your mouth as you press your body against his, deepening the kiss.

your teeth nip at his lower lip, tugging lightly, while your tongue explores his mouth with possessive intensity. his desperate moans blend with yours, the heat of his ragged breaths mingling in the air, the blindfold amplifying every sensation as you consume each other in a sloppy, heated frenzy.

pulling back just enough to catch your breath, you sport a devilish, shit eating grin, your eyes gleaming with mischief as you study his flushed, helpless state.

“aww, poor baby, want me to get those soaked pants off for you?” you tease, your voice low and dripping with provocation, your fingers lingering tantalizingly close to his waistband, brushing the damp fabric.

“please baby,” he begs, his voice cracking with raw hunger, desperation. “take them off, please, just fuck me, i’m begging you.” he gasps, his body trembling violently, blindfolded and yours to use.

his words spill out in a frantic, pleading rush, each syllable soaked in aching, unrestrained need as he strains toward you, craving your touch with every fiber of his being.

your grin widens, a predatory edge to it as you slide your hands to his waistband, fingers hooking into the damp, cum soaked sweatpants. you tug them down slowly, the fabric peeling away from his skin, revealing his drenched calvin kleins underneath, the outline of his cock straining obscenely against the tight material. you drag the sweatpants past his thighs, letting them pool at his ankles, before turning to the underwear.

hooking your fingers under the waistband, you pull his underwear down, the sticky fabric resisting briefly before giving way, freeing his cock. it springs up, thick and impossibly hard, easily eight inches long, veined and glistening with a mix of precum and the remnants of his prior release. the head is swollen, flushed a deep, angry red, pulsing with need.

your breath catches at the sight, a rush of heat flooding your core as you take in its size, the sheer weight of it making your thighs clench instinctively. you feel an aching urge, your body thrumming with the urge to claim him, to feel every inch of him stretching you open.

you shift forward, climbing over him, your knees bracketing his hips as you straddle him. his blindfolded face tilts up, sensing your movement, a shaky whine escaping his lips. your slick folds brush against the tip of his cock, teasing, and his body jerks beneath you, a desperate groan spilling out.

slowly, torturously, you lower yourself, guiding his thick length to your entrance. the blunt head presses against your dripping pussy, and you sink down, inch by agonizing inch, feeling the delicious, burning stretch as he fills you. your walls clench around him, slick and tight, as you take him deeper, the sensation overwhelming his size splitting you open, every vein and ridge dragging against your sensitive inner walls.

you moan, loud and unrestrained, your hands bracing on his chest as you bottom out, his cock buried to the hilt, your clit grinding against his pelvis. the fullness is intoxicating, sending shivers through you as you pause, savoring the way he throbs inside you, his bound wrists straining and his blindfolded face contorted in helpless, desperate need.

you begin to ride him slowly, lifting your hips just enough to let his veined cock slide partway out before sinking back down, each deliberate motion making your walls clench tightly around him. the slow drag of his length inside your sensitive cunt is exquisite, a simmering pleasure that makes you nearly scream, your hands splayed across his chest for balance.

“oh baby… baby…” luigi whines, his voice high and frantic, dripping with desperation. “fucking incredible…” a booming, shuddering moan spills from him, his blindfolded head tilting as if to follow your presence, his body trembling beneath you.

the sinful sounds of your pussy gliding over his cock mingle with his desperate whimpers, each slow, torturous thrust coaxing more plaintive noises from him. your chest nearly brushes against his, the intimate closeness amplifying the heat between you.

“feel that, angel?” you purr, your voice low and teasing, laced with a seductive edge. “i’m taking my time with you.” a soft, throaty moan escapes you, mingling with his desperate sounds.

luigi whines, a high, frantic sound, his blindfolded head tilting as if chasing your voice. “please, go faster,” he begs, his voice cracking with need. “i can’t take it, please, fuck, faster!” another loud, shuddering moan spills from him, his body trembling beneath you.

you laugh at his pleading, but his desperation awakens something in you. “aww, want it faster lu?” you tease, your voice dripping with control as you shift your pace. you slam your hips down harder, now riding him with relentless, ferocious speed, your pussy swallowing his thick cock in rapid, greedy thrusts.

you moan loudly, unrestrained, your nails digging into his chest, leaving crimson marks. luigi’s moans turn into a continuous, broken wail, his body jerking beneath you, wrists straining against the binds. “oh i love you… i love you… fuck, i love you!” he cries, his voice hoarse, each word punctuated by a desperate, booming moan as his face contorts in helpless, overwhelmed surrender, consumed by the intensity of your ruthless rhythm.

your noises grow wilder, untamed, as the pleasure surges within you. “my sweet boy, i love you too,” you gasp, voice thick with passion, quivering with the heat of the moment. leaning closer, your body tantalizingly near his, you guide your left breast to his parted lips, the soft, heavy curve brushing his mouth.

“suck.” you command, voice low and laced with authority, and he complies instantly, his lips closing around your nipple with ravenous hunger. his tongue swirls, hot and unyielding, sucking deeply, the sensation sending sharp, electric sparks to your core. his muffled groans vibrate against your skin, loud and needy, as he draws your breast deeper into his mouth.

the burning stretch of his size, the way his veined length drags against your pulsing inner walls, is nearly overwhelming, your body trembling with the heavenly feeling. your noises intertwine with his own, a symphony of desire, as you ride him harder, faster, your left breast still in his mouth, his desperate sucking driving you wild.

luigi’s voice breaks as he gasps, “oh my god, i’m close… fuck!” his words are laced with desperation, his body trembling beneath you, the blindfold amplifying his surrender to the overwhelming pleasure.

your own climax builds, the molten coil in your core tightening to a breaking point, your walls fluttering around his cock as you grind harder. “i’m close too,” you moan, voice shaky with need, your clit throbbing against his pelvis. “baby, cum for me.”

the command pushes him over the edge. he lets out one final loud, broken moan, his hips jerking upward as he cums fast, his thick, hot seed spilling deep inside you, pulse after pulse flooding your core. the sensation of his release, the way his cock throbs and spurts, triggers your own orgasm.

your pussy clenches around his length tighter than ever, milking him as you cum, your slick walls spasming violently, drenching his shaft in a gush of your juices. your loud, shuddering screams fill the room, mingling with his desperate cries, your body shaking as waves of pleasure crash through you, your clit pulsing against him, your core gripping him so tightly it’s almost painful.

his seed and your slick mix, leaking out around his cock, dripping down his balls and pooling beneath you as you ride out the intense, shuddering climax together, lost in the raw, consuming heat of each other.

as the aftershocks of your orgasm begin to fade, your breathing heavy and ragged, your fingers gently find the edge of the black blindfold. slowly, you slide it off his face, revealing his flushed, sweat dampened features. his eyes flutter open, and the moment they land on you, they light up with a mix of awe and adoration, sparkling as if he’s seeing you for the first time.

the sight of your flushed skin, your tousled hair, and the glistening evidence of your shared pleasure seems to captivate him, his gaze drinking you in with unrestrained devotion.

you smile softly, your hands moving to the purple tie binding his wrists. with careful, deliberate movements, you loosen the knot, freeing his hands from the bed frame. once unbound, you toss the silky tie aside, letting it fall carelessly to the floor.

luigi’s arms, now free, immediately reach for you, his hands warm and eager as he pulls you down into a close, tender cuddle. his chest heaves beneath you, his heart still racing as he wraps his arms tightly around you, holding you like he never wants to let go.

as you settle against him, his soft cock slips free from your cunt, a trail of his seed and your juices leaking out, warm and sticky against your thighs. luigi lets out a soft, content sigh, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your back as he nuzzles his face into your hair, his breath warm against your skin. the intimacy of the moment wraps you both in a quiet, blissful cocoon, your bodies pressed close, hearts beating in sync as you bask in the afterglow of your “session”.

after a moment, he shifts slightly, his lips brushing against your temple as he lets out a low, husky chuckle. “you know…” he murmurs, his voice still rough from exertion but laced with a playful warmth, “you should tie me up and blindfold me more often.”

his words carry a glint of teasing, but the way his arms tighten around you and the soft, appreciative glint in his eyes tell you he means it, already relishing the memory of being so completely at your mercy. he pulls you even closer, his smile pressing against your skin as he waits for your response, the quiet moment filled with shared affection and lingering heat.

you giggle. “maybe i should.”

──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────

woulda had this out wayyy sooner but erm certain people from a certain website were attacking us LMFAOOO but i hope u all enjoy this!! pls lmk what u think 😋😋

previous work

At least we live in the timeline where Luigi Mangione was blindfolded at some point, and also filmed during it. At least we have that.

Luigi Mangione- February 21, 2025

getting into argument with lu and him fucking the silent treatment out of you <3 a muffled moan slips out and he's like "mmh there you go, wanna hear that pretty fucking voice baby" 🤗

Bro always got that first set of buttons unbuttoned to show off a lil chest 😩

those girls on twitter really call luigi bigfoot. am i seeing correctly rn.. ? lol?

Yes you saw that correctly, Girl they be making fun of anything and everything without a thought in their heads I've legit seen them make fun of the way he shifts in his seat on the arraignment day coz of how "stiff" he is like mf he was screws in his back and 2 bones fused together, ofc he doesn't have the mobility , you, a person with a normal spine have 😶

When someone calls them out they say they're just "joking" and "he would get it" like...are you serious ? Y'all throw a fit over people finding him sexy but apparently making fun of his medical issues is completely fine.

oh my fucking god… the audacity of these weird freaks

oh my god i had to screen record this because i needed to show u guys so bad and if i linked it i’d dox myself IMAGINE THIS WITH LU :’(

no cause wdym this was two months 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

good morning

GIVE ME THIS SICILIAN MAN RN.

luigi at the phi kappa psi initiation (2018)

!!!!

really over these characters that insert and establish themselves as ‘leaders’ of certain lu communities and then use their ‘position’ as some sort of policing authority to speak on and for a man they do not know!

ik w/ like the party girls and the legal fund, that’s ultimately a benefit and a plus for lu but wtf has ms clubmangione accomplished by attacking other lu supporters publicly and making fun of him on twitter (and in letters TO HIM) etc etc etc lmfao it’s ridiculous and embarrassing and i just had to get that out sorry

why do you think you are owed anything from lu or his team bc u started a twt space and helped minors write letters to him

When he does that lil tongue in cheek thing

Omg.

omg I saw this post and immediately drafted something… here’s a lil drabble ^_^ credit to the anon because I’ve stolen your idea and turned it into this :’)

@diors002 I love you because I can’t stop thinking about that picture of him looking up..

🍓

NSFW: p in v sex during second trimester of pregnancy, breastfeeding, lactation kink

The night had been slow and dreamy, one of those evenings where everything just felt perfect. After work, Luigi had cradled you in his arms as you cooked dinner, all broad shoulders and warm hands, voice soft and soothing as he told you about his day.

You fed him lasagna — simple enough, but he moaned like it was gourmet because his wife had made it. Afterward, he sat on the couch with your swollen feet in his lap, strong hands kneading gently, eyes drifting to your bump and your chest with that look that hadn’t left his face in months: awe, pride, hunger.

Eventually, the two of you had moved to the bedroom.

Now you’re here, on top of him, slowly rocking your hips, swollen belly rising and falling between you both. The sheets pool around your waist. Your body is flushed and glowing, dim light golden across your skin. His hands are everywhere — palming your ass, stroking your thighs, but mostly… your breasts.

He’s obsessed. Has been for weeks.

Luigi groans softly, mouth hot and open over one of your nipples, sucking lazily, like he could stay there forever. “They’re so full, baby,” he breathes, voice muffled. “So heavy.”

You giggle breathlessly, fingers threading through his curls. “Feels good — they’ve been so sore.”

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, nuzzling deeper.

He kisses down, then sucks again, harder now. You gasp, rocking a little faster, your body aching and oversensitive in all the right ways.

And then— suddenly you feel it. A warm, soft pressure… then a trickle. Luigi pauses. Freezes, actually.

He pulls back a little and blinks. You both glance down at the same time where a small wet patch glistens on your nipple.

Your eyes widen. “Oh—”

Luigi’s mouth falls open a little. He looks stunned. A drop of milk glistens on his bottom lip. His hazel eyes dart up to you — doe-eyed, boyish, totally gone.

“Luigi, what…” you start, breath catching. “What is — did I just…?”

His cock twitches inside you. Hard.

And instead of finding it strange and pulling away — he moans.

Then he leans back in. And sucks even harder.

You gasp, completely dumbfounded, hands on his shoulders as he latches on like it’s the most natural, necessary thing in the world. He’s all flushed and breathless and his hands are gripping your hips tighter, rolling them against his lap again like he can’t decide what he wants more — your tits or your pussy.

“Luigi—” you whisper, shocked and turned on and slightly overwhelmed. “What are you doing?”

He looks up at you, lips wet and pink, milk at the corner of his mouth, eyes half-lidded and reverent. “Tastes good,” he murmurs, voice thick. “Perfect, bambina… so sweet.”

You just gaze down at him, mouth slightly open, thighs trembling.

And then you bounce again, slow and deep, watching his pupils dilate as he cups your breasts, mouth returning to suck at the other nipple like he needs it.

The mix of sensation — your body filled, your chest heavy and leaking, his cock twitching inside you — it’s overwhelming in the best way.

You moan, breathless, hands tugging at his curls now. “Fuck, Lu — that’s it, baby, ‘m so sensitive.”

He just hums against your skin, the noise vibrating against the nipple he’s currently attending to.

“I want this with you forever. Wanna give you more of my babies. Stay buried in you. Taste you like this and keep you full.”

You shiver, overstimulated and melting.

This becomes your thing together. After a long day, when he’s tired, craving his wife, and you’re sore and achy, you’ll ride him in the comfort of your bedroom, nestled in the sheets as he sucks from you. He eases the needy and uncomfortable ache, nourishing himself equally in such deep intimacy.