My Fav MGG Photos (pt.2)

misbehaving

luigi mangione x reader

｡𖦹°‧ your plan to piss off your cute tutor backfires in the best way possible.

part of my study buddies series (read here!) • nsfw • read on ao3

warnings : f! reader; EXPLICIT; unprotected (PLS practice safe sex); jealousy; brat taming; choking; some painplay; undernegotiated scene (all consensual!!)

notes : i could NOT find a cute little picture that fit for this one i’m sorry💔

You’ve been bad.

Which is weird to say, because you aren’t doing anything particularly naughty, or morally dubious, or criminal, for that matter. You’re doing homework. Math homework.

And what’s so bad about math homework?

Well, it would be different if you were working alone, or maybe with a friend of yours. It would be different if you weren’t in the library with a boy from your math class, who you proposed doing said homework with not even an hour ago. You don’t know this boy. Not well, anyway. His math skills are…mediocre at best, and the same could be said for just about every other aspect of him. His name is something simple, unremarkable—starts with a J, you think—and you don’t care to relearn it, because this boy is simply a decoy, a prop in your plan.

Right. Your plan.

You have a bit of a problem lately: your tutor, Luigi, has been quite busy with something. You have no idea what. You never do, because he doesn’t like to talk about himself, but you know that something has been keeping his time occupied because you haven’t seen him in a few weeks and when he does respond to your texts, he’s apologetic but short, dry, unengaged. It's driving you mad. You’re bored. He’s probably tinkering with computers or doing whatever it is people do in fraternities and you’re bored out of your mind, having to fend for yourself in mathematical and sexual proclivities. It’s not just your raging attraction to him that makes this problematic for you; in fact, if he weren’t so damn busy, you’d probably be doing your homework with him instead. But he is, so here you are, armed with your decoy and one goal only: to make your crush tutor jealous.

Does he even care enough about you to respond to petty tricks like this?

He had tried to talk to you before you made it to the library, and you had admittedly forgotten about your response. Looking at your drawn-out and seemingly unproductive conversation makes your skin feel hot, now:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : Where you at

library

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : What doing?

hw

with [REDACTED] from math

There are two new messages from Luigi, ones you haven’t seen, sent about forty minutes ago while you were knee deep in your studies:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : What

Who???

One question mark would be plenty worth an eyebrow raise, but three implies something much stronger, something tinged with what may very well be actual anger. You can’t decide if you think that’s a good or bad thing.

Your decoy is packing his things beside you, your work finished for the day. Suddenly your heart is pounding in your chest, like this library is only big enough for the two of you to crowd inside; the uncertainty of trying to push Luigi’s buttons makes you feel claustrophobic, and so, so wrong, but you’re chasing the high as you stand up to grab your backpack and thank Mr. J or whatever his name is for his help. It’s not very sincere—you know that at least a few of your answers are definitely wrong. The price you pay for dick.

Hugging your cardigan to you, you make your way off campus and start the walk to your apartment. The night is bustling with activity, as to be expected in a college town, but aside from your fluttering heart you have no fear, no back-burner thoughts of drunk dudes cornering you or shifty old guys trying to offer you a ride home. All you can think of is what Luigi is planning on doing about your disrespect.

Inside your dorm complex it’s much warmer. The elevator ride up to your floor is silent, aside from the sound of your own exhales. Tension builds in you and wraps up like a ball of rubber bands, threatening to snap, pull you apart. You’ve never seen Luigi mad before. You almost wonder if he has it in him; but that thought doesn’t last for long, because it’s quickly shot down by the rush of memories you have of him, active, protective, quick on his feet. Not violent in the slightest, but you imagine that he has soft spots deep inside him, ones that rupture at the slightest provocation. You’ve caught him at the gym a few times. Shirtless. Sweating. All meat and bones. He could easily throw you any which way if he wanted to.

When you round the corner of the hall you hear footsteps rushing behind you, then directly beside you, a hand grabbing your arm.

You don’t even need to turn your head to know who it is.

“Is your roommate home?” Luigi asks.

You are suddenly walking much faster with his guidance, and you have to be mindful of where you place your feet with each step so that you don’t trip over yourself. Should she be? Right now you’ll have the apartment to yourself—she works a night shift after her classes—but with the tone of Luigi’s voice and his firm grip on your arm you worry that you just might have triggered something serious in him, something animalistic.

Swallowing thickly, you answer, “no.”

“Good,” he rumbles. Then, matter-of-factly: “Because you’re going to lead us to your dorm, and then you and I are going to have a little talk.”

So, it’s official: you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. You expected some sternness, maybe a bit of a talking to, but overall nothing more than the almost overwhelming sweetness Luigi was known for. Right now it doesn’t seem like he wants to do much talking, or much sweetness, for that matter, and the thought of what’s in store for you has you anticipating bruises on your hips and an aching core.

The door is barely open before he’s ushering you inside and backing you against the nearest wall.

“I got your text,” he starts, “and I saw you. With—with fucking what’s-his-face from math.”

You resist the urge to grin. There is so much genuine jealousy in his words, jealousy over a pawn, a desperate volunteer you picked at random just to get his eyes back on you. Nobody. He’s jealous over nobody. You weren’t thinking he’d be cool as a cucumber, obviously, but to be this angry over a guy that both of you hardly know is a reaction that has you second-guessing every moment you’ve spent with him. Was he really this crazy over you?

“Yeah?” you scoff for effect. “What’s-his-face from math was helping me. With math. Big deal.”

And then he does something that makes your insides turn to slush. Luigi pauses, and you can see his tongue poking his cheek in frustration, his eyes trained on your face, his hands on his hips. It’s a look you’ve never seen on him before and you love it, every little detail, the way his brows furrow, the way those pretty lashes flutter. You feel like a kid getting caught with your hand right in the cookie jar. Maybe you shouldn’t have messed with him; maybe it was a bad idea to provoke him like this, hit him where it hurts, get him riled up over some aimless homework you did with another boy just to get his attention. But it would be a big, fat, horrendous lie to say that you don’t like where this is going. That you aren’t already slick between your legs thinking about what he might do to you when he’s this agitated.

Before you can open your mouth to speak again he has you pinned to the wall, towering over you just slightly. His hand is on your neck. He isn’t choking you, not even close, but there is just enough pressure against your throat to have your stomach in knots.

“What the fuck is this?” Luigi grits, low and rough. Dark. “Do you think it’s funny to just play me like that? Fuck with my feelings like it’s nothing?”

You gulp and crumble into yourself. When he talks to you like you’re in trouble you can’t help but feel small, weak, pliable, a bit like you would let him do just about anything he wanted to your body as long as he keeps his eyes on you. Helpless. Like prey.

The hand on your throat comes to seize your chin, hard. “I asked you a question, baby.”

To think that he’s probably only using just half of his strength stirs excitement deep in your belly.

“I didn’t realize it meant that much to you,” you squeak. It’s not completely a lie. This side of Luigi is new, a little scary, but unexpectedly titillating.

“Oh, you didn’t realize?” He is grabbing your face now, between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, holding your head straight so that you can’t look away from him and your lips push into a little pout. His knee juts between your legs. “Really? You didn’t realize it meant that much?”

“No, sir, I didn’t—”

The moment the word sir leaves your mouth he’s slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His hand gripping your ass knocks all the air straight from your lungs.

“You just have to be a fucking brat,” he grumbles. “Which one is your room?”

You offer a pathetic point at your door, accompanied by an even more pathetic whimper so that he can look in your direction. What can you say? It’s hard to think straight when he pulls out the B Word so casually.

Following your directions, Luigi carries you into your bedroom, closing and locking the door and then tossing you—carefully!—onto your bed. He has your arms pinned above your head in an instant and his other hand begins to make quick work of getting your pants down. Your heart is beating so fast you can hardly hear him speaking to you:

“Do you think this is how you should get a guy’s attention? Huh?” His voice is all warm in your ears, like marshmallows roasting over crackling fire. Your legs are spread wide and he is slotted perfectly between them. “All you had to do was just ask, baby. How fucking hard is that?”

A shadow of a grin teases your lips. “Clearly, it worked, didn’t it?”

He smacks your cunt through your panties and leans down close to you, smirking at your gasp. “You’ve got a smart fuckin’ mouth,” Luigi chides. “Keep running it and see where it gets you.”

He knows exactly what your intentions are. He has you figured out, had you figured out the moment you sent him that text, probably, despite your best efforts. You should have never underestimated your own tutor. Your shirt is swiftly pulled up and over your breasts, so that he can take one in his hand, growl at your lack of a bra, squeeze you, twist a nipple between his fingers. You want to run your hands through his hair but he still has your arms held above your head, and he can feel your wrists straining feebly, wanting desperately to hold him. I’m sorry, you want to say, I’m sorry, Gi, really, I didn’t mean it, but it would be useless, because you know that this won’t be over until he’s made his point, until you’re made very sure of the fact that he will accept absolutely none of this vindictive bratty shit.

And then he lets go of your hands momentarily to pull off his shirt, and you make the mistake of reaching for his pants. Luigi instantly has you pinned to your bed again, this time holding you down with both arms. You almost wish one of them was free so he could grab your face again, taunt you, make you feel all weak and stupid.

“Stay still,” he spits. He collects your wrists in one hand again and moves the other to the button of his jeans. “Someone ought to teach you some fucking manners, don’t you think? Teach you how to ask for what you want properly?”

Oh, you’ve never needed a lesson in behavior more than you do right this minute. “Yes, yes,” you agree, nodding absently.

“Yeah?” Luigi has his pants and his boxers down all at once and when you feel his hand sliding into your underwear it takes all of your resolve to swallow your mewl. “Oh, you’re so wet. Dirty fuckin’ girl. You know, I think I should just—”

Before you can blink he’s flipping you over, guiding you to pose exactly how he wants you, on your hands and knees with your legs spread and your back arching up towards him. You feel like a ragdoll, pulled this way and that, and you fucking love it, this untamed, beast-like side of him that just throws you around his court like a tennis ball.

“—There we go.”

Swiftly, Luigi pulls your panties down your thighs, tugs off your cardigan, and delivers a restrained spank to your ass. He comes up behind you and moves to do something that makes you heart sink and your cunt pulse: his right arm wraps around your face and hooks underneath your chin, bicep looping around your neck as he pulls you upward, against his chest. Holy shit. He has you in a fucking chokehold. Not enough to actually block oxygen from your brain, but enough that you can feel his muscles flexing, pressure tight on your throat.

“And how about this?” Luigi asks, deep and hot like lava in your ear. “Is this okay?”

The yes that leaves you is pained and broken, but your sticky, wet pussy tells him an entirely different story, one that reassures him as he pushes his cock inside of you.

Without any prep the stretch of him burns, but in the best way possible; after all, this was exactly what you wanted, him splitting you open and claiming every inch of depth inside of you. Yes, you should’ve known that this is exactly what you signed up for. You wanted to make him mad, make him itch for you, so badly that even the thought of you just doing math with any other guy has him wanting to put people in chokeholds, apparently—but right now, with Luigi working his dick inside of you, trapping you from air, whispering pure and utter filth into your ear, you aren’t regretful—certainly not—but you’re bracing yourself.

“Not so sassy now, huh?” he mocks. He warned you that running your mouth might earn you something special, but you certainly weren’t expecting this. You can only grunt in response.

He smiles. “Yeah, hard to talk when I’ve got you like this, isn’t it? Figures. Only time you’re ever quiet is when I’m giving this pussy some attention.”

Unreal. Absolutely unfair. You want to kiss his perfect mouth for saying all the words you wanted to hear him say to you, in that raspy, fucked-out voice that makes you whine like a bitch in heat. But it would be useless to try, because Luigi’s tight grip on you makes it impossible to move even your hips. His, though, pump with quick succession, snapping into you, ruining your cunt.

“That’s it,” he groans. You’ve sucked the mercy right out of him. He is fucking you relentlessly, forcing sounds out of you that he’ll be turning over in his brain for future reference. He learns something new about you every time you’re together, especially so right now.

“I love—fuck—” you’re trying hard to tell him that you agree, this is it, exactly how you imagined it, but with his arm tight around your neck and his cock brushing a certain spot that makes your toes curl it becomes increasingly difficult to express your satisfaction in anything other than lewd, incomprehensible noise. “I love the way you make me take it, sir.”

Luigi growls. “I’m just taking what’s mine.” If his other hand weren’t holding your head in place he would be playing with your clit, but the chokehold prevents that, so instead he pounds into you harder and chants into your ear, “mine, mine, all fucking mine.”

And then it starts to feel like just too much, because he’s panting and moaning and you want just the sound of this and him fucking you hard on repeat every day for the rest of your life. That would prove to be quite difficult, though—having to hear him nonstop would mean having to think about him all the time, too, even in the most innocuous moments, and there’s no way you could bear all of that at once. You can hardly handle it right now.

Suddenly, he starts to slow, and he releases you from his hold but before you can complain he rasps, “do you want to come?”. He already knows the answer to that question, so when you whimper he pulls out and follows it with: “Then get on your knees.”

And you do, faster than you ever have before, kneeling on the floor in front of your bed with him standing above you. Your cunt is still burning with need but Luigi comes close, stroking himself, his cock just mere centimeters from your face. “Open your mouth,” he breathes, and you lurch forward, holding onto his thighs and looking up at him as he guides his dick between your lips.

Fuck. He loves that you can take a hint. Knowing he’s close you start a steady rhythm, hollowing your cheeks around him, moving quickly and putting effort into each back-and-forth of your head. You can taste yourself on him. Luigi is groaning above you, speaking like he has to empty every thought that enters his mind: “oh, baby, yes” and “just like that” and “ohhhh fuck…”

You take him as deep in your throat as you can. He almost can’t stand to look at you as you’re sucking him, can hardly take your face and your mouth at the same time, but before he can come he catches a glimpse of you; he has your hair held back in both of his hands, your pretty doe eyes filled with tears, looking up at him through fluttering lashes. Rough carpet burns against your knees. You know that there will be bruises later, probably all over you, blatant proof of the feral and purely human attraction between the both of you—proof of his hands all over you, marking his territory, staking his claim. He thinks you’ve never looked prettier.

Luigi hisses, warns you that he’s coming, and when he lets your hair go and grabs your face with both hands he’s spilling into your mouth, warm and bitter. “Swallow,” he’s telling you, “swallow f’ me,” and you try to tame your gag reflex as you obey his demands, his cock still rammed in your throat. You whimper around him and the noise he makes is fucking obscene.

And then he tilts your chin up, pries your mouth open with his thumb so that you can stick your tongue out and show him that not a drop of him remains. He flashes you an absolutely dangerous grin. “Atta girl. C’mere.”

He helps you up onto the bed and guides you to lay onto your back with one big hand, smoothing over your stomach and tracing down your pelvis to your drooling cunt. Those long, skilled fingers dip into your slick and spread you, caressing, exploring. You’re sensitive after such a brutal pounding and each time he brushes against your clit you jolt with delight; he giggles at you, like he’s amused by the way his own body can break you.

“Sweet girl,” Luigi breathes, and you look into his eyes, look at his angel face as he stares down at you with adoration. You’re happy that he lets you move your hands, now, because you can hold him against your palm, trace his sideburns with your thumb, study the nearly symmetrical moles on each of his cheeks. He is so beautiful. You hardly know where to contain these feelings you hold for him.

Two fingers are probing your pussy, dipping inside, and your keen is louder than you intend it to be. He knows just where to look, instantly finding your sweet spot. He’s perfect. “Gi, fuck.”

“Baby, ‘m sorry I made you feel lonely.” You love how his voice sounds right now, dark and dripping with sugar, spice, and everything nice. “I get too focused, you know how I am. I missed you. Missed this pretty pussy.”

Inside your cunt Luigi is massaging your G-spot, his other hand gliding down your stomach, thumb meeting your clit and starting a gentle pattern of quick, circular motions. You already feel close watching both of his hands pleasuring you. Sharp nails fly up to dig into his broad shoulder, the back of your head burrowing into your pillow.

“You like that?” he leans down to kiss your nose, then your mouth. “Are you almost there, pretty girl? Gonna come all over my fingers?”

You nod incessantly.

He grins, white teeth flashing at you; he looks wolfish with his sharp canines and focused eyes. “Yeah? Let me see it, baby. Give it to me.”

And then you’re there, falling over the edge into his arms, squeezing his fingers like a vice and sobbing underneath him. Luigi helps you ride it out, still rubbing your clit and sending sparks through you, whispering sweet nothings that you don’t fully process as you come down from your climax. The inside of your thighs are slick and your room smells like sex and sweat.

“Are you mad at me?” Luigi asks from beside you after a while, eyes anxious.

You blink. “What? No, Gi. No. Why would I be mad?”

“I kinda left you hanging for a while,” he confesses, still clearly regretful of his bad habits of perfectionism and something that might be better described by a formal diagnosis in some edition of the DSM but you’re far too preoccupied and frankly under-qualified to name it right now. “I wasn’t trying to, and I meant to let you know, or tell you something, anyway, but different things kept coming up and I had to—”

Threading your fingers through his curls, you bring him close and kiss him, effectively shutting him up. You were never really mad. You aren’t now, anyway. Not when he’s this cute and so obviously concerned with you.

“I’m not mad,” you repeat. “It’s okay, Luigi.”

It’s a bit too dark to tell, but you think you can see his face flush pink, and he smiles at you, his dimple prominent under your palm. Then, he looks downward, towards your tits, towards his hand holding your waist, and his smile gets wider, its innocence from before missing.

“Can I make it up to you?”

Solace

Request: spencer reid x reader Where you just need some physical affection from your husband

A:N: I/m sorry for how short it is! I hope you enjoyed.

SPENCER REID REQUESTS OPEN

It had been a long day for you. Today, was filled with problem after problem. Your co workers had been bitchy today, as usual but it got especially under your skin today, then someone used all of the coffee in the entire office just after your boss decided to drop a stack of papers on your desk that needed your attention by the end of the day. To make matters worse, the bottom of your shoe fell off.

Yeah, you read that right. The sightly lifted bottom of your shoe caught onto a step, and somehow as you stepped forward, you managed to also peel the layer from the sole, leaving you in a gross pair of disguarded trainers from the lost and found.

Sufficet to say, your day was shit.

Going home was solace for you, a haven. This haven contained your husband, the love of your life, the smartest and most handsome man in the world (in your opinion anyway), and he was always attentive to your every need on days like this. When you two got engaged, you had made a promise to always be home for one another when you promised to be. Tonight, you were especially excited, becuase Spencer was returning from a case, and he'd promised to be home before you finished work.

Spencer being home before you always meant two things. One would be, When you opened the front door, you'd be greeted by the smell of fresh coffee, and the sound of his crackly old vinyl playing Brahms or The Doors. The next would be that Spencer would be by your side as soon as he could, and hugging you like he thought he'd never see you again.

Arriving home, you found your first prediction to be correct. The sound of 'Love me Two Times' playing softly alerted you to his presance, and scent of freshly brwed espresso comforted you as you slipped silently into your shared home. Quietly, you placed your bag down, stripping your coat and placing your keys into a bowl gently.

You could hear Spencer clattering around in the kitchen, no doubt attempting to make dinner. Deciding to surprise him, you slowly tiptoed through the long emerald hallway that led to the kitchen, slowly peeking around the corner, you saw Spencer facing away from you, looking into a cupboard.

With a sneaky smile, you continued to tiptoe to him till you were just a touch away when-

"Boo!" He spun around and grabbed your hips, causing you to scream in surprise. Screeching his name, he only laughs at your pout and pulls you into him by your hips.

"Sorry, love." He laughed out, leaning forward to kiss your forehead softly "But to be fair, you were going to try and scare me first."

You rolled your eyes and slid your arms around his slender neck, looking into his eyes with a smile.

"Well, I guess allis fair in love and war and that..." You reach to meet his lips with yours softly, the kiss is tender and full of the deep love you both feel for one another. Pulling away, you both have dopey love struck smiles gracing your features

"I think i prefer love..." He mumbles before catching your lips in his once again.

After a moment, Spencer attempts to pull away from you after a moment, but you pout once more, pulling him back.

"Nooo... dont go stay here and cuddle me" You whine, pouting like a child, elliciting another chuckle from Spencer.

"Really, you want to cuddle in the middle of the kitchen?" His hand was rubbing small circles on your lower back, tracing his fingers along the slender line of your spine. Humming, you nodded in agreement

"I don't care where as long as im right here." Gesturing to your place in his arms, Spencer gives you an exhasberated look, shaking his head at your use of love to blackmail him to holding you whilst stood staionary in the kitchen. Rolling his eyes dramatically, he gives you a small squeeze.

"We can always do this on the couch? Or the bed?" Your eyebrows quirk up at his comment

"Doctor Spencer Reid! Are you just trying to get me in bed with you?" You feign offense, causing him to laugh at your dramatics "Romance IS dead!"

Rolling his eyes once more, he pulls away from you and begins to lead you to your bedroom

"I don't think I can trick you into your OWN bed." He chuckles as he pulls you ontop of him, both of your bodies softly hitting the matress.

Propping yourself up and onto your elbows, you bring your attention to the mans face, staring at him adoringly, his gaze meeting yours with the same look. Leaning down, you give him a small kiss, before collapsing into his embrace.

"I love you..." You mumble into his chest, he gives you another tight squeeze and kiss to the crown of your head.

"I love you too."

Spencer Reid Masterlist:

Guide: Smut ●, Angst ☆, Fluff <3

Kissing in the office <3 by @reidalert

Sleepy Needy Spence ● by @nereidprinc3ss

Work call during the act ● by @nevvdrinksteaa

Pregnancy Announcement (sort of) , vol.2 <3

by @pathologicalreid

"I'm not sleeping with Reid" ● by @incognit0slut

Headcannons <3 by @rafesgfs

Well-kept secret ☆ < 3 by @astrophileous

Work place environment by @nereidprinc3ss

Glasses <3, vol. 2 <3 , vol.3 ● by @luveline, @atlabeth and @raekensluver

Falling asleep on his shoulder, vol.2 <3

by @inkdrinkerworld and @bklynsboys

Please don't have somebody waiting for you <3

by @cerisereids

Being a menace, vol.2 <3 (tho it is suggestive kinda) by @in-another-april and @incognit0slut

Comforting him <3 by @little-miss-dilf-lover

Sleep Deprivation <3 by @faunalune

I love this too much ● by @reiderwriter

Sneaking around ● by @nereidprinc3ss

First Time ● by @luveline

Between the books ● by @reidmotif

Whiny and Spoiled ● by @nereidprinc3ss

Hyper Independent <3 by @inkdrinkerworld

New haircut <3 by @inkdrinkerworld

Waking up with kisses <3 by @secretlovezz

No vacancy <3 @kiss-inthekitchen

Reuniting after prison (Hotch!reader) ☆<3

by @pathologicalreid

Being a munch ● by @lis-likes-fics

Me while watching CM ● by @an1t4k

High Heels <3 by @guiltyasreid

Decoy ● by @violetrainbow412-blog

Tech analyst reader <3 by @moonstruckme

Mixed Messages (series) by @easy-there-leftovers

Addicted to you ● @spencerreidenjoyer

Drunk confessions <3 by @nereidprinc3ss

Proposals <3 by @reidmania

Plastic Hearts (Gideon!reader) ☆ by @atlabeth

I might be in love (Prentiss!reader)

by @januaryembrs

This hurts but in a good way ☆

by @aliteralsemicolon

Heavenly sweet ● by @reidsfilm

His hands, vol.2 ● by @raekensluver and @t1red-twillight

Coming home late <3 by @fairysongs

Soft Intimacy <3 by @t1red-twilight

Missed Lunches (Gideon!reader)☆

by @mindfullycriminal

Grounded (Hotch!reader) <3 by @rreids

His kisses <3 ● by @ inkdrinkerworld

Dad!Spence:

Paternity leave <3 by @radiant-reid

Mini Doctor <3 by @reidsdaisies

Hard to say no <3 by @radiant-reid

Lamby goes to work <3 by @cerisereids

Everything in the world <3 by @lis-likes-fics

Daddy's girl <3 by @midniteluv

Toddlerus Interruptus <3 by @reid-fiction

Midnight Scaries <3 by @reid-fiction

Other Masterlists:

Masterlist 1 by @pathologicalreid

Masterlist 2 by @radiant-reid

Masterlist 3 by @slowburningechoes

Note: sorry some of the tags may not work my Tumblr is acting up, also a Spencer Reid shod be posted sometime soon

haunting you

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

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

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"layla, it's alright. promise."

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

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

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

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

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

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

until your phone chimes.

you've gotten a text.

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

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

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

luigi: hey :)

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

you quickly type out your reply.

you: hi handsome :) what you up to?

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

your phone buzzes.

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

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

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

not even a minute later, you hear another buzz.

luigi: you doing anything?

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

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

you: why? you lonely? ;)

three dots appear immediately. and then...

luigi: just asking.

luigi: are you doing anything or no?

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

you: come find out.

yet another buzz...

luigi: be there in 10.

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

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

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

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

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

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

silence.

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

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

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

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

he exhales sharply. "can i come in?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

then, finally...

"i wanna do it."

you're confused. really confused.

"i'm sorry?"

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

his words hit you like a slap.

wait.

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

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

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

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

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

this whole time?

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

everything all of a sudden makes sense to you now.

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

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

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

this is something else entirely.

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

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

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

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

you're confused again. "like what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

his goes red again. "yeah..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and with that, you kiss him.

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

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

girl, idk if you've already posted this one but this guy sounds so much like him it's insane 😫

https://soundgasm.net/u/UrSwitchyBF/Frat-boy-DEGRADES-you-for-not-doing-his-project

GIRL omgggfggggg yes i’m pretty sure i did post that one oh my god it’s one of the best yes yes yes

hold on i think i posted the praises u version but both are so good :) i think that guy has quite a few good audios but i can’t remember exactly

masterlist

all works are spencer reid x fem!reader

requests are open! updated 08/01/24

from eden

lovable nerd

sweater vest

𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 (𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖) - 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐

(part 1 here)

(4,543 words)

summary: smut. filthy, fucking smut.

𝗍𝗐: 18+ !! 𝗀𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒, 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖽𝗈𝗆!𝗅𝗎𝗂𝗀𝗂, 𝗌𝗎𝖻!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋/𝗌𝗎𝖻!𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖽𝗎𝖻𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝖿 𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗍, 𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁 + 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗏, 𝗇𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗆 𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗂𝖺𝗅, 𝗆𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗆𝗌, 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾, 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄

~

"We're going to play a little game, pretty girl." Luigi is still fucking the length of the gun into you, pushing down into the small of your tiny back with delicious pressure and you're finding yourself all the more happy to comply.

"Mm-mhm." You're fighting back every urge telling you to push your ass back and make the sensation hit you faster. You heed your caution because if you don't, you know Luigi would be pretty upset and he'd hurt you.

Maybe you wouldn't mind, but right now, all you cared about was taking what he was giving.

"I'm gonna talk about my favorite memory of you," he starts to twist around and you feel the ridges of the gun running over the sensitive flesh inside and you let out a cry. It evokes a hard and extremely painful slap. 

"Don't interrupt me bitch." He leans forward to bite into your ass and you both moan, the plush skin creating mutual pleasure. You nod your head before he pulls his teeth off. "When I do talk, you're going to tell me exactly what happened. Okay? You can make a sound baby." He pulls the gun out and says the last few words into your ear, letting his fingers dip inside this time.

"Okay Lu." You bite your lips naturally, letting your eyes roll back and soak the pleasure of his fingers curling inside, far more dynamic than the gun could ever be. Humming in satisfaction, he speaks.

"December 1st. We had a call together to talk about-" he stops, pulling you back closer to his body but he does it with the fingers inside of you and it's so humiliating. You let out a sob, shoving your fist into your mouth to compensate for the pain. "That hurt." You whine because it's so natural so natural that it would hurt. Luigi lets out a laugh before speeding up the pace of his fingers, watching you shiver as you're seeing colors before your eyes.

His free hand comes up to slap your ass before giving it a hard squeeze. You let out a concerning yelp, feeling the already stinging skin get kneaded and pulled in every direction his fingers so dictate. You let out a drawn, nasty sound that Luigi nearly moans in approval of.

"Yeah, I like that sound. Wanna hear ya in m'fuckin pain baby." Luigi feigns desire in his voice, drawing out the words so that every single syllable is trickling down like feather light touches teasing your skin.

He succeeds.

"We had a call to talk about my graphic. You remember what you were wearing that day pretty girl?" His fingers are twisting inside, brushing against the spot with every pump but the pace becomes torturously slow, as though he's giving you space to think. It does little to help but you race to gather yourself from mentally crashing to pieces, thinking back to this said day.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"Hey Luigi." You pick up the call, expecting to continue your usual discussions about the graphic he had worked on since it was the most difficult. At this point, you were already living up every single moment your eyes could land on Luigi. Perhaps, you were trying a bit too hard.

You wore a pair of silky pajamas that were light green. The straps of the top were thin - spaghetti, essentially, and stuck to your skin as it cropped half-down your torso. Your shorts were high rise and decorated with delicate lace at the edges towards the bottom. In truth, it was after hours and usually, nobody had formal calls during this time. You had changed into your clothes much earlier at that point and chose this set, keeping it far back in your mind that you'd have a call with Luigi later.

It was sure to draw his attention because your lined bra made itself known, poking curvaceously through the fabric telling those who dared to look that there was something underneath. You lived alone, so normally, you didn't care.

But today, you cared only because Luigi would see and that care only made you pull the top down to complement the natural seg-way into your chest. That care made you make yourself an exhibit you hoped he'd appreciate.

Luigi stared for a second as you watched his eyes drag up and down once across the screen before he gave you a smile, responding at once.

"Hi. How could my poor self help you?" Luigi asked mockingly and you furrowed your eyebrows then, wondering where the comment came from but giving him the same energy back. "Give me some riches in the form of explaining your graphic? I didn't know I was as rich as you're making me out to be." You responded but then, you see your face freeze, letting you know that the audio likely must've frozen for Luigi too.

No mind, since everything resumed as normal in less than a second but Luigi's expression seemed to tell you something is wrong.

"What'dya say?" Luigi asked, tilting his head and letting his eyes project somewhat of a siren-like, overtly-focused stare on you. You gulped before answering in confusion.

"Jus' said you could give me riches by explaining your graphic and that I didn't know I was as rich as you were making me out to be." You answered unsurely but caught the way his face slightly fell towards the end of your sentence. His next few words seemed to explain why.

"Ah," Luigi starts, rolling his eyes before letting out a sigh. "I thought you said 'making out' and it did something to me for a second." Luigi laughs, but it sounds huskier, like there was more to the sentence he dared not say.

Your heart lurched at the idea but it was so out of place that you forced yourself to move on and just chuckle.

"Well, even if I had said so, you'd have to be here. I'm not so rich I could make a computer to stick a hand through and reach the other side." It was a stupid, convoluted joke that you rambled just to make the atmosphere lighter but that didn't seem to work, since Luigi's stare had only hardened more on you.

"Your top says otherwise. I love the silk on you." You're taken aback but you don't let it show, simply letting your fingers run their course from the straps and down to your stomach, which he couldn't see. Part of you suspected about whether his eyes had followed too, having noticed a slight shift in their focus.

You change the topic because this... this all came later.

But you certainly wouldn't forget.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You gasp, feeling yourself reaching the point where you just had to let go. His pace had increased, aligning with the increasing impatience as you hadn't given an answer.

"If you don't answer, I'm not letting you cum." Luigi says, cruelly laughing as he heard you whine loudly and clenching around his fingers.

"L-Light g-green -ah!" You want to finish your sentence but the pleasure breaks through a new roof and you're so dangerously close to cumming. "P-Please Lu I wan-wanna cum." You beg without any inhibitions and he pumps even harder.

"Dumb slut can't even finish her sentences can she?" It's a matter of less than ten seconds and he drives his fingers in as far as he possibly can and you let out a scream, moaning ngh ngh ngh in the same tune as his fingers fucking you.

You hope he'll let you get away with it because there was no humanly possible way any understandable words were going to come out of your mouth. The pressure on your walls finally breaks.

"G-Gonna cum." You say in the loudest voice possible, unable to keep it down even on request because of how good you felt and finally, he pulls his fingers out.

And when he does, you bite your bottom lip hard, feeling a sob escape from your throat as you clench around nothing. The pleasure that was so close to pushing you over the edge rescinds its ministrations, settling to the usual arousal that you had started with. Your hands bunch up the sheets you're laying on as you're openly crying, babbling and asking how? why? I wanna cum! oh so shamelessly.

"Didn't finish your sentence. Stop fucking crying." Luigi gives a slap to your cunt and you fall forward, sobbing quietly into the sheets before a hand pulls your hair back.

"Said stop f'ckin cryin' little cunt." Luigi gives another slap, this time landing straight on the pleasurable nub and you moan through the last cry you let out, panting and whining quietly as his grip on your hair tightens. "Save those tears for when I split you open baby." Luigi lets go, watching your head fall onto the bed and bounce as you lie there, helplessly waiting for him to use you. The ruined orgasm only makes you more restless, but you're forced to wait.

"Dya remember what ya wore?" Luigi asks, taking off your panties off, sick of keeping the gusset aside before quickly flipping you around so you're facing him. You scramble and cover your face, embarrassed at the way you knew you would look like in that moment, but he grabs them both before pinning them above you, licking a thick, wet stripe from your neck and into your mouth, devouring every single inch inside. The wetness makes you clench and he can tell, his bulge pressing against you between your legs.

"Tell me. Tell me if you want me to fuck you with this cock." Luigi says, unbuckling his jeans and your mouth nearly waters, surely to let drool spill if your head was turned either side. You nod before swallowing the spit, forcing yourself to focus and ignore the sensations of his dick and fingers touching you.

"Wore my light green p'jama set Lu." You speak in a disgustingly sweet voice, eager to please him as he takes in a deep breath, smiling while he exhales. "My pretty girl. You remember, huh? Good girl," he stops to take his cock out, hitting it against your stomach before he bends over and grabs your face with his other free hand.

"You want a reward for that? You want me to give you a treat for answering m' question?" Luigi shakes your head side to side and you feel the pressure of his fingers digging your soft flesh into your teeth and it really fucking hurts. Nevertheless, you're his pretty, slutty girl.

So you nod.

"Uh-huh." You answer, the best sound you're able to get across your forcibly puckered lips. He leans forward, grinding his cock painfully against the opposing curve of your sensitive cunt which makes you mewl, squirming against his towering figure. "Fuckin' words bitch. Use your fuckin' words." Luigi commands you with a mocking tone, pressing harder into your face. You eyes crinkle, like you're going to cry again because you couldn't. It was so hard to get words out when he was just fucking your face up with his fingers like this but you don't let yourself cry.

"Wan' a-mm- rewa-mm." You try your very best, watching Luigi's chest tighten as he coos. He leans back and lets go of your hands, which you keep there even after he stands back. You watch, admiring him in his full glory. His cock is standing up straight between his legs, deep red from restraining himself for so long and all he does is pull a chair from behind him, sitting down.

You sit yourself up on the bed, half naked as your top is still on. Your legs dangle over the edge as you stare at him unsure of what to do next. Your eyes are threatening to look to the side and look at his gun, but you don't dare to move your sight away. Your eyes were for his body only.

Nothing else.

"Top off." Luigi is curt, speaking with a rough voice and you get the sensation like he'd just rammed his length into you, fumbling and shaking to pull your top off which you finally manage. All that's left on your is your bra. A push-up, specifically, which is hiking your breasts up a half-inch higher. The padding is useless in hiding your hardened nipples, which his eyes are staring at.

You open your mouth to speak but his eyes immediately shift to yours, and you shut them instantly before a sound crosses and makes its way out.

"C'mere. No sounds." Luigi addresses the concern you had of voicing a question, which you now know not to ask since he just answered it for you. You stand up, shaking and playing with the hair strands that sit beautifully on your neck and breasts before you take a single step.

"Crawl." Luigi says, smirking at your reaction afterwards. Your eyes go wide and you feel humiliation cloud your conscience. Fuck, you barely knew this man but everything he said, everything he did made you want to obey because he knew best. He dominated you like he knew exactly where to hurt and help you because he knew.

You were just his dumb, little baby.

But something was far too humiliating about this. So you shake your head slowly, increasing the pace the angrier he got. You weren't trying to get him angry, you were just so embarrassed. Poor little thing.

But Luigi didn't have the same patience with you.

"No?" Luigi asks, giving you a single warning in his question. You stare at the orbs in his eyes, shaking even more as you so badly wanted to listen but couldn't handle the thought he'd make you crawl. You do what you shouldn't, shaking your head yet again.

He runs a hand through his hair before standing up and bending down to pick up his belt. You swallow, eyes widening even more as your they darted between him, his belt, and your feet. You keep your neck facing down before his fingers softly touch your shoulder.

You yelp and you realize that's a mistake because that hand freezes before coming up and giving a hard slap across your face.

His face is perfectly calm, like he hadn't done a single thing but this time, you can't stop the glossy eyes that stare at him. He uses his other hand, dragging the leather of the belt up your body and you slightly lean into him after every curve he hikes it over.

"I'll help you crawl baby since you wanna be such a little bitch, okay? Lu's gonna help you baby he's gonna help his brainless little bitch." Luigi whispers into your ear with a softness that entirely juxtaposes his words and you have nothing to do other than nod, gasping once the belt curves around your neck.

He steps back before pulling the length through the buckle. He stops, staring at your features which are looking back at him in fear, confusion, and arousal. The innocence and desire in your face are so pure he can't help but scare you more and more.

it takes less than a second before he snaps and pulls the belt so fast and so hard, you're choking in an instant. Like an expert, he places the small wedge through the hole which would keep the belt around your neck as tight as possible, giving less-than-needed wiggle room for you to breath.

He steps even further back before jamming his fingers between the belt and your neck, using space that doesn't exist before pulling you to the ground. You choke, falling to your knees, before coughing repeatedly. He's still standing and you realize how small you are in comparison to him. Your eyes helplessly glaze over the toned hamstrings that arch beautifully into his cock, which he's slowly running his hands over. Your breathing is rapidly increasing as you blink, trying to find a way to force the air down but you can't help but watch his abdomen tighten and squeeze in relation to his movement up and down his length. He lets his fingers slip out and grab the extra belt leather that was making the entire set-up akin to a leash, pulling it and what do you do?

You crawl like he had asked, breasts swinging side to side with every movement. You stopped once he let go, kneeling and exuding submission with every curve of your body.

"Open your mouth." Luigi says quietly but you freeze. Your neck was already restricted and now you had to take his cock? You stare, gulping at the thickness and realizing it was going to press hard against the belt around your neck. You gasp, shaking your head but he doesn't listen, placing the tip at your lips.

The precum has a distinct taste, which you gag at but still position yourself for perfectly, arching your back just enough.

"You're gonna take it anyway. If you ever say no again, I'm gonna leave okay sweetheart?" Luigi uses a cunning, manipulatively sweet voice and you, even worse, fall for it, nodding slowly as your lips lightly run over the tip, making him groan.

He pushes in at once, making you lurch back but it doesn't matter, because his hips come in to use that distance, now letting his cock abuse your throat. You feel its ridges abusing the soft flesh inside as he pulls back all the way.

His tip is at your lips again and you instantly cough, gag even, due to the force and he smiles, letting his finger rub your cheeks. He doesn't care though, because he forces himself back in and starts rocking his hips, drinking in the sounds of struggle that you make and adoring the squelch from your lips.

"F-Fuck baby. This is exactly what I wanted to do to you on call," he falters in his voice at first, but later becomes steady in his hips and words. His volume is even, like he isn't obliterating your throat right now. It's like his ears are deaf to the moans, the struggles, the deep-throated noises he's fucking both into and out of you. "I saw your bra poking up out of your silky fucking crop. I saw the way you were pulling it down every now and then. You wanted me to see. You wanted my hands on your tits," Luigi stops, bending down to grab a breast and slap it from below. It stings from the force and you lean forward, letting his cock settle farther into your throat.

"You were such a little exhibitionist the entire time and that's when I knew," Luigi continues pushing his hips harder and harder, the squelches and sounds becoming more distinct as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. "I had to do everything I could to get my hands on you and use you like the fucking rag you were. Fuckin' slut." His hand comes down, slapping you whenever the pleasure was exceptionally good, releasing the tension all across your body and skin.

"Touch yourself." Luigi whispers, not letting his voice shake despite how good you're doing. "I hacked into your computer and I got everything. I found every single call you had with every single person and your texts." He stops, smirking when he watched your fingers struggling to move around because of the force of his hips. He extends his foot forward before saying ride me softly and you immediately set your cunt down on his foot, humping them without any qualms and taking him deeper, feeling pride swell at the way his body was reacting.

"I heard you fucking yourself with those beautiful fingers, moaning my name. You're so fucking beautiful but," Luigi finally can't stop himself, letting his breaths get ragged as he got close. It definitely helped to hear you gagging, suffering under him. "If you ever try to leave, or mm- escape m-me, FUCK-" he falters before flexing his entire body, steeling himself before he cums. "If you ever try to leave I'll hurt you. I'll hurt you so bad you'll forget your name and chant mine like a fucking prayer."

His words are sick and twisted, but they ignite a new wave of pleasure that crashes so hard against your walls, you can't help but cum. He snickers, watching your eyes rolls back while whining, having to manage the feeling of him down your throat.

"You fucking like that. You like it when I control you baby? Huh? Fuckin' nasty aren't you? G'na fuckin' cum. Fuckin' swallow - fuck." Luigi slows down, stalling in your mouth before pulling out and letting himself spill all over your tongue. The white pearls shoot out, coating your tongue and you stare up at him, hair matted with sweat and eyes glossy from his brutal assault, but the hot, pulsing core of pleasure and arousal never dies down as your body keeps craving more of him.

Luigi pulls your jaw down before swiping his tongue inside, swallowing you while you swallow him. His fingers roam the rest of your body while you devour each other before he rubs his fingers on your clit. It's too fucking much and you can't handle it, but he places you still, one hand on your waist and hips while the other is pleasuring your overstimulated cunt.

Luigi snickers before he stops, watching you shiver and hug yourself, trying to cope with how everything feels. He grabs your neck, pulling you up like a limp rope and you grab the bed behind you before obeying, knees shaking and unable to hold your own body. "Ass up and face down. Gonna fuck you stupid baby." Luigi pushes you down into the bed, hand in your hair before he rubs his tip on your slick cunt, moaning himself at how desperate you were. "Your body was made for me and I'm gonna use it and you know what you're gonna do baby?" He pulls your head up, expecting an answer. You savor the pull, loving the pain coming from the strands of hair straining against your scalp.

"Gonna fuckin' take it." You reply, moaning when he pulls your hips and shoves himself inside, a movement done all at once and taking you through and back several stages of shock, pain, and pleasure all at once. The scream he provokes out of you makes him harden more, as you feel the curves of him settling inside you with greater opposition. In response, you clench.

"Fuck me Lu, fuck me fuck me fuck me-" you babble repeatedly and he does. He fucks you, matching the pattern of your chants and it feels like heaven, and true to his word, it feels like he's splitting you open. Exposing all your vulnerabilities.

He's tearing you to the very pieces you were most certainly made from.

He flips you around while he's still inside of your cunt before leaning down, hands on either side of your head before he jackhammers himself inside, drilling into you and you can feel cries of pleasure flowing out of you with fire and fury.

"Mouth." He says, and you instantly know what to do. You let your lips part, moaning un-ceased, before he's swirling his tongue around and he spits inside. Your eyes widen in response, aided by the particularly magnificent thrust which forces tears to your eyes, ones that he watches cascading down your pretty face. A hand comes to swipe away before he takes a taste, licking the same fingers.

"You taste and look good when you cry f-fuck baby." He stops before straightening out his back and pulling you closer, pushing himself deeper inside. It sends you screaming, back arching, letting your breasts present themselves to his lips, spilling out your bra which he rips off of your body. You gasp but get distracted at his coming moves.

He takes the opportunity to suck and kiss around the buds, not quite touching you where it matters most despite his sinful tongue just millimeters from them. It prompts you to beg, instead.

"Please Lu, fuck please suck on 'em please." Your voice is cracking, the pleasure making you sob your words out and he's so driven to make you feel good that he simply obliges, unable to stop the desire when he hears your pitiable and fuckable lips beg him so helplessly.

His teeth are kind, pulling and biting just enough to make you squirm, making the orgasm catch up with you fast. "Ever gonna leave me baby, hm?" Luigi asks, slowing down but aiming his thrusts, desperate to make you unravel beneath him. You shake your head, screams and sobs intertwined as you repeat yourself: no no no no no and Luigi nods in response before you stutter, voice all high-pitched and nearly squealing.

"Can I cum Lu can I can I can I- ngh - lemme cu-" for which he cuts you off, biting and pulling on a free bud and the agony of feeling your breast stretch away from your chest, dancing to the moves of his neck makes your toes curl as you scream his name, shaking violently around his cock.

His hands come down to your waist to keep you in place as you grab the sheets randomly, crying and sobbing, tasting your own tears on your tongue which he never misses a chance at tasting himself as he gives your cheeks a light slap before savoring your salty tears himself.

"My turn." Luigi stares into your eyes, before grabbing the belt that was still around your neck and drilling himself into you, and you realize you just might pass out.

You beg and beg, telling him it's too much.

"'S too much Lu-" You're wailing, but something about the way he takes you makes your body put up a fight and take what he's giving because it just feels too good.

Luigi, on the other hand, enjoys all of this. He wants to make the pleasure hurt. He wants to watch how pleasure makes you shiver and break down into your smallest, most vulnerable pieces. And that's exactly what he was doing and was planning to continue doing.

"Don' fuckin' care. Your tiny fucking cunt is leaking f'me. Gonna take it." Luigi grinds down into you at the end of the sentence and you're babbling, making incoherent sounds, thrashing on the bed. The sight makes him want to drown in this moment and relive it as much as he can. His hand free hand slides up to your mouth, shoving the fingers inside and he knows he fucking knows he's using your body to the max.

He gets closer and you can tell by the way his breaths get quicker and his abdomen squeezes, but you're losing focus from the lack of air. Colors are filling your vision but in all of it, you hear his voice.

"You always going to be mine. Physically," He thrusts once.

"Emotionally." He thrusts again.

"Indefinitely." He fucks you particularly hard this time and you feel your body going limp as he groans, cumming inside. You don't care what the consequences are because honestly... you aren't going to be awake by the time you find the ability to do so. He pulls out and notices how he's spent all of your energy and sanity.

His fingers trail up your body before threading into your hair, massaging the scalp lightly.

"Sleep tight baby. I'll be right here when you wake up." And that's the last thing you hear before your world goes black.

end.

~

@officialdilfenthusiast @mrsmangione286 @lolololagrey - tagging u cuz u commented or reblogged my first part... hope u enjoyed :)

boyfriend!hotch

more luigi p*rn links again bc u guys asked *nsfw minors dni

lu pulling your hair while he fucks u from behind

more fucking from behind :p

how lu would suck on your tits while u ride him

there are no words for this one. oh my fucking god

pics: one two three four five six (the nerdy t shirt LOL) seven

fingering

he made u put your panties in your mouth to shut you up but ur whining like crazy anyway

choking u in missionary

imagine lu taking care of u like this fuck

size kink. omg

sending a video to ur ex of lu on top of u (need him like this so badly)

fucking you upstairs at a frat party

lu’s arm around your neck while he fucks u from behind NEED

fucking his cum back into u. SORRY

i should be banned off tumblr. anyway here u go :p

'O Sole Mio'

?: After a few glasses of cheap Chianti, Luigi tells you a story. Nothing could have prepared you for its delivery.

1,080w

Author's Note: I don't have any words left after this, all i have is feelings and crying and ... im so gone for him. ive lost my mind. i dont know if this shit makes any sense but i was just about weeping writing it LOL

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It was the last golden gasp of summer at Seaside Heights, the kind of evening that feels like a postcard itself. The boardwalk was alive with the smell of fried dough and the sound of distant screaming children on rides powered by questionable engineering. Luigi and I had wedged ourselves into a corner table on the patio at some hole-in-the-wall Italian place.

We had ordered slices and “just a glass” of wine, which inevitably became, “Just bring us the bottle.” By the time I was three pours deep, Luigi had his legs stretched out like he owned the place.

His eyes, espresso-dark and shining under the cheap string lights of the boardwalk, were giving me that look. You know the one. Like he knew how good he looked in his half-buttoned linen shirt.

That’s when he suddenly froze, his head tilting to the side. He pointed upward. The music—some cheesy, dramatic Pavarotti knockoff that these Italian dives play to try and appear authentic. Then he smiled, clapping a hand over his mouth.

“What?” I asked, already laughing at whatever dumb thing he was about to say.

“Oh my God.” He shook his head. “I can’t tell you. No way.”

“Well, now you have to tell me.” I smacked his arm—rock solid.

He paused and sighed. “Okay, but promise me you won’t laugh.” He leaned in with a straight face that had me eagerly anticipating another highly entertaining Mangione story.

“I promise,” I lied.

“Alright.” He looked around, then leaned in conspiratorially. I was melting for this man. Every moment with him felt important, filled with meaning. He could have said anything, and I’d lap it up like a dog. “So,” he started, rubbing his face like he was already regretting this.

“My mom used to play these mix CDs on the stereo at home. Pavarotti, Bocelli, all the classics, right? She’d be cooking, cleaning, just vibing to these… love songs.”

“Sure,” I said. Totally normal so far.

“But this song”—he pointed upwards again to the song playing on the patio speakers—“‘O Sole Mio,’ a total guilty pleasure for her. When it came on, she would lose her mind. Singing, swaying, dancing. And eight-year-old me sat there watching her, thinking, This must be the greatest song in the history of songs. So, Mother’s Day comes around…”

At this point, Luigi paused, biting his lip like he wasn’t sure he should continue. I couldn’t help the smile that possessed my face.

“Oh my God, Lu, what did you do?”

He waved me off, reaching for his wine. “No, nah, I can’t—”

“Finish the story, Luigi.”

“Fine.” He threw his hands up. “I learned the song. Like, the whole song, okay? I watched every Pavarotti performance on YouTube at the time. Memorized the lyrics. Practiced in front of the mirror. And on Mother’s Day, I performed it for her.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did. For her, my family, my cousins, neighbors. I’m pretty sure Pavarotti himself has sung for smaller audiences.”

I lost it. “You did not…” I said, breathless already. The image of little eight-year-old Luigi in my head, filled with love for his mama, singing an Italian love song in complete earnestness, was too hysterical to keep contained.

“I did,” he admitted. The music swelled in the restaurant, hitting that classic over-the-top crescendo, and Luigi—my God, this man—pushed back his chair and stood up.

“And now…” He slapped his hand on his puffed-up chest and lifted his chin.

“Luigi, NO.”

“I will sing it for you.”

And let me tell you, it was terrible.

He was hamming it up like some kind of opera drunk on karaoke night, his voice all over the place but somehow still deeply passionate, like he was singing to save Italy itself. People in the restaurant were staring. I was just as mortified as I was captivated. Tears were streaming down my face. Dying. And he didn’t stop. He didn’t care. He kept going—arms gesturing wildly, every crescendo perfectly wrong—and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

When he hit the final note—“O SOOOOLEEEEEE MIIIIOOOOOOO!”—he threw out his arms in a dramatic flourish, like he was expecting roses to rain down from the sky. I clapped so hard my palms hurt.

When he finished, he bowed. One or two other patrons gave half-hearted claps, probably just impressed by his dedication to the bit. His cheeks and ears were a delicious shade of pink, his smile lighting up his face as he moved his chair closer to me.

“You’re too much, Luigi,” I said, wiping tears from my eyes.

He finally sat down, our knees touching. He leaned towards me, and suddenly I was his only audience. “Do you know what the song means?” His voice was soft, so only I could hear. There was a twinkle in his eye that wasn’t there before.

I shook my head.

“Okay, ‘O Sole Mio’—it means ‘My Sunshine.’ It’s about… someone being the light of your life. Like…” He shifted his weight, trying to find the words. “Like even the sun itself can’t hold a candle to the person you love.”

He ran a hand through his hair, a little embarrassed by the intensity, but too caught up in the moment to stop himself. “It’s like the artist was saying, ‘The world is so much brighter with you in it.’ The guy is completely wrecked over how beautiful life is because of this one person... you know?”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, gauging if any of this was resonating with me at all. His goofy bravado had melted into something almost painfully genuine and sincere.

This was real for him.

“I do know, Lu,” I said quietly.

He leaned back, taking his wine. He shrugged. “And that’s why I sang it for my mom.” He tried to downplay it, but I saw right through him. “Because she’s always been my sunshine. Always will be.”

My breath caught in my throat at that.

Then, he must have realized he’d gone too far into the serious zone. He snapped back to being playful. “Anyway, I fucking nailed that performance on Mother’s Day, and everyone talked about it for weeks after.”

I don’t know if he realized what he was doing to me. The lights sparkled brighter. The air tasted sweeter. And my heart was warmer. Because he was here. He was insane, but I wouldn't have him any other way.

The song made perfect sense. Life is a gift with you.

~~~

What a beautiful thing is a sunny day.

But another sun, even more beauteous, oh my sweetheart, My own sun, shines from your face This sun, my own sun, Shines from your face; It shines from your face