Lovefool

Thots on husband lu😔…….

Husband Luigi headcanons <3

AGHH omg omg he’s sooo husband. He would make the perfect husband.

⟡ husband Luigi who makes sure you always have fresh flowers in the vase in the kitchen. He buys you a new bouquet every week, surprising you with whatever is in season. Tulips and daffodils in the spring, dahlias in the fall, snowdrops in the winter and hydrangeas and lillys in the summer. He keeps one flower from every bouquet before you throw it out and dries it out, taping it into a book with the date. He keeps the book in his home office, flicking through the pages, picturing your smile and the way your face lights up every time he gifts you a bouquet.

⟡ husband Luigi who takes notice of all the little things. His brain is like a sponge soaking in information and retaining it. He remembers all the little things you mention, even if you don’t. You drive past a little cafe and you comment on how it “looks cute” so for your next date Luigi will take you there. You mention how you’re out of lotion and luigi will run to the store after work to pick some up for you. And yes, he remembers what lotion you use! You tell him you have a crick in your neck and he’ll buy you a massage gun or look into alternative chair options because the flimsy office chair you have doesn’t provide sufficient support. He learns massage techniques online to help alleviate the discomfort. You send him a funny video of couples yoga or Pilates and he’ll book you both in for a session on your day off. He’ll spend the whole day pampering you.

⟡ husband Luigi who enjoys the mundane domestic chores as long as you’re together. He makes every task a paired task. Need a hand changing the bedsheets, he’ll strip the sheets if you put the new ones on. Need a hand washing the dishes? He’ll wash if you dry. He’ll be yapping away the whole time and you enjoy listening contently to his interesting stories and educated takes about every little thing. Whether it be medicine, politics, cinema or even juicy gossip, he always has something interesting to add.

⟡ husband Luigi who is the calm to your storm. He always has a solution to your problems. Granted, you tend to panic and overthink about the little things but Luigi is always there with an answer to every problem.

⟡ husband Luigi who is mindful of how he goes about teaching you things. He wants to be your Prince Charming, swoop in and do all the work. If he had it his way you wouldn’t have to worry about lifting a finger, but he knows how important it is for you both to have the knowledge and understanding of how things work. But he makes sure to not come across as condescending or as if he’s “mansplaining” something to you. For example you have a rattling sound coming from your car so he guides you out with him, popping the hood and giving everything a once over. He finds the issue and calmly walks you through it, explaining exactly what needs to be done to fix it. He gets his tools out and instructs you on what to do and how to fix it. He is also adamant that you teach him things he doesn’t know. He’s never afraid to ask questions or admit if he doesn’t understand something. He doesn’t fear looking stupid because he knows he isn’t. He’s a little cocky about it but you like that about him.

⟡ husband Luigi who tracks your cycle to know exactly how you’ll be feeling and how he can make it easier for you. He knows when your period is due so will be sure to stock up on snack, warm drinks and have a hot water bottle and plenty of pillows handy. He reminds you to keep your fluids up and cooks your hearty healthy meals to make sure you’re fuelling your body properly. Offering a shoulder to cry on when you have mode swings and knowing that you need alone time occasionally. He knows that during your follicular phase you’ll have your energy back. He plans fun dates and hikes for you to take and even books couples workout sessions for you both. During ovulation he is well aware of your needs and how to care for them. He even teases you by wearing your favourite outfits like grey sweatpants and a black tshirt with a simple gold chain hanging from his neck. He walks around the house nonchalantly, smirking to himself because he knows it drives you crazy. He tries to mix it up in the bedroom by introducing new positions or encouraging you to try new things or new toys to make sure you get as much pleasure out of it as you can. He goes multiple rounds eventually allowing you to just use him until you’re fully satiated ;) During your luteal phase you suffer horrible mood swings leaving you irritable often resulting in you lashing out and then feeling horrible. He knows how to avoid pushing your buttons and lets you take your anger out on him. He never takes it personally and is always there to offer a cuddle and some sweet treats for when you need it. Your boobs are often sore and you feel bloated and have crazy headaches. He’s always there to offer up a hot water bottle, painkillers and some fresh fruit juice to help keep your energy up. He even cuddles with you and massages your boobs to help the pain and soreness.

⟡ husband Luigi who loooves when you wear his clothes. Especially after he’s taken them off. Before you moved in together he would *accidentally* leave his clothes at your place for you to sleep in. Oversized hoodies or basketball shorts whatever he thought would be comfy for you. Now that you’re married he loves when you go through his clothes picking random T-shirts or hoodies with nothing but your underwear on to wear on a lazy Sunday. He especially loves when you wear nothing but his button ups after sex. You wrap your arms around yourself or button up one or two buttons so your boobs are poking out through the top. The shirt is long enough to cover up your ass but one small move and you’re exposed to him.

⟡ husband Luigi who sends you messages and voice notes all day giving you little update on his day. He sends you pictures of the sky or of a cute cat he spotted on the street. He’ll send you voice notes that go on for minutes about a delicious sandwich he ate. Or maybe ranting about how much work he has to do and feels a little overwhelmed about. If he needs to run to the store to grab something for himself he’ll always text you to ask if you need anything. He likes to keep you updated and enjoys seeing your updates too. You send him funny pictures back or have a selection of reaction photos saved and he always tries to guess which one you’ll use. He knows you so well.

Tag list 🏷️: @multi-culti-girl @sabrininaa (comment to be added)

'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

------------

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

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 :)

Warm Embrace

Summary: Spencer and his wife explore ways to be intimate with each other after a traumatic event

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Please read the CW, this story contains potentially triggering topics! 

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) referenced past SA of Reader (non-graphic), implied flashbacks, trauma related sexual problems, conversations about sex and intimacy, nudity, kissing, mutual masturbation, handjob, thigh riding

Word count: 5.4k

Masterlist

“Spencer?” Your voice echoed through the apartment when you stepped through the door and found no sign of your husband. 

A distant sound came from the bathroom. “In here!” 

After a quiet knock on the door and his confirmation that you could step in, you found Spencer sitting in the bathtub. The room was filled with the lavender scent of the bath soap and what you could see of his body was covered in bubbles. It almost looked comical how his knees stuck out of the water, making it obvious that the tub was not big enough to accommodate his long limbs. 

“I was too tired to take a shower,” he explained after discovering your curious expression. 

“I can see that,” you laughed. “I thought you hated taking baths.”

“Honestly, I think I’m starting to understand why you like them so much. This isn't too bad.”

You stood there for a few moments, smiling at the sight in front of you. Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, you slowly began shedding your clothes. 

“Mind if I join you?” you wondered. 

Nothing about this situation would be unusual for any other married couple. Just a few months ago neither of you would have questioned your actions. Back then initiating any form of intimacy with each other felt natural and familiar. 

Things were different now, though. 

Spencer cleared his throat and shifted his position. “Are you sure about this?”

There was a reason to ask. For the past months any attempt to get close to each other resulted in you crying for the rest of the night. Something as simple as him placing his hand on your thigh was enough to startle you. 

A sigh rolled over your lips as you dropped your shirt to the floor. “No,” you confessed. “But I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” he reminded you.

That was not what you meant and he knew that. Of course he understood the meaning of your words. Spencer was well aware of the fact that ever since that son of a bitch hurt you, you fought a constant battle between wanting his nearness and pushing him away. 

Your husband gave you the space you needed and was there to hold you whenever you’d let him. It couldn't have been easy for him either but he never once complained about this new reality you had a live. 

A reality where that person took something from you that you’d never get back. It was hard to shake this feeling of being tainted after having your physical integrity stripped away like that. You were distant and closed off when it came to intimacy, despite your best efforts to get back to what once was normal. It had been months since Spencer even saw you unclothed.

That was about to change. 

Slowly, you pulled down your pants before reaching back to undo your bra. Spencer's sight followed the piece of clothing as it dropped to the floor before settling on your face again. 

“Stop profiling me,” you warned him with a playful undertone in your voice. 

“Sorry, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

By pulling down your panties, you shed your last piece of clothing, leaving you completely bare in front of your husband. It was a strange feeling to reveal yourself to him. It felt new yet familiar to allow him to see you. 

However, he didn't dare to look, even when you approached the tub. It wasn't clear whether he just tried to be respectful or if seeing you like this for the first time after months was too much for him to bear. His reaction reminded you that he never answered your question about you joining him. Maybe he was the one who wasn’t okay with this. 

Spencer’s eyes widened as he noticed the change of your mood before you did. Within a split second your heart started pounding and you stepped back to reach for your bathrobe. 

“Sorry, this was a stupid idea,” you muttered as you turned around to shield your body from his sight and your heart from the rejection. 

“My love,” he cooed from behind you.

The sound of splashing water gave away that he was exiting the tub. From the corner of your eyes you saw how he reached for his own robe. 

You felt his presence behind you. “Can I touch you?”

You nodded as you turned around, finding him wrapped in his robe with water still dripping from his jawline. Spencer reached out his hands to pull you into his arms. 

“What just happened?” He wondered, his voice laced with concern. 

Before you could think about it, you mumbled, “You didn't want to look at me.”

Your husband thought about your words for a moment, replaying the scene that had just unfolded in his mind. What you said wasn’t true. He wanted to look at you, to admire you fully like he had done countless times before. 

“I was afraid it would make you uncomfortable,” he confessed as he pulled back to be able to find your eyes. 

It was hard to read your expression which was not surprising considering you were mostly confused about your current state yourself.

“I miss the way you used to look at my body. I miss being close to you,” you whispered and paused for a moment. “I miss… sex.”

He closed his eyes before placing an innocent kiss on your forehead. “I know,” he breathed. Me too, he thought.

“Do you still think about it?” You wanted to know. 

“Sex?” 

Nodding, you watched his facial features intently. Ever since your attack, there were many occasions when the two of you had tiptoed around this subject. But never before had you been so blunt about it. 

It seemed like he was looking for the right words. “Yes, I do,” was what he settled on.

Raising your eyebrows, you asked, “With me?” 

The insecurity in your question wasn’t lost on Spencer but he still couldn't hold back a breathy laugh. “Of course, silly girl. You're my wife.”

“It’s just been so long that I would understand if you ever thought about doing it with someone else.”

“Stop that right now,” he said with a firm yet loving tone. “I would never cheat on you.” 

A shaky breath escaped your throat before you dared to say what had been bugging you for weeks now. “What if I’ll never be ready? What if things won’t ever be like before?” 

“That would be okay, too,” he reassured you. “There are many ways to create nearness and intimacy. Sex is just one way but it’s not necessary. At least for me it’s not.” 

“So you’d be okay to live without sex?” 

“Before I met you I thought that was my only option,” he quipped. 

You knew there had been a handful of women before you but you appreciated his joke nonetheless. It made you smile. 

Spencer let his fingertips brush over your cheeks. “But to answer your question, yes, I would be okay with that.”

His words were genuine. The way he looked at you with the most loving expression made your heart jump. The amber of his irises radiated a warmth you could get drunk on. You nestled your head against his chest and he held you even closer against his body. He was right. Sex wasn’t necessary to create nearness. However, you were still curious about what else you felt safe enough to try. 

“I want to get into the bathtub with you,” you whispered. “And I want you to look at me.” 

Loosening the embrace, you looked at your husband. With a nod he confirmed that he wanted that, too. 

With shaking fingers you brushed over his robe before gripping the material. “And I want to see you, too.”

Together you helped each other out of your robes until you stood bare in front of each other. You took a moment to admire the man in front of you. It had been a while since you had seen him like that. Unlike you he didn't deliberately hide his body from your sight but there hadn’t been many occasions in the past few months that allowed you to see him unclothed. 

His body looked familiar yet different at the same time. His tummy was a little bit softer than you remembered and you imagined what it would feel like underneath your palm. 

Spencer dared to let his eyes drop down to take in every inch of skin within sight. The way he looked at you made your skin tingle and you noticed how it broke out in goosebumps. 

“You're so beautiful,” he purred as he tentatively brushed over your arms. 

Tilting your head, you placed a soft kiss on his lips before breathing against them, “So are you.”

He took your hand in his to walk you over to the bathtub. Your husband got in first, bending his knees in an attempt to make himself smaller than he was. There was enough space to join him, a relieved sigh falling from your lips when you felt the warm water enveloping your body. 

First you sat a little awkwardly opposite one another for a few moments before you felt confident enough to get closer. Gently, you placed your hands on his knees to part them before moving closer to lean against his body sitting between his legs. Spencer’s heart pounded rapidly against his ribcage as you nestled against his chest. 

“Is that okay?” You wanted to make sure. 

“Yeah, I uh… I’m not sure where to put my hands,” he chuckled and you noticed how they hovered above the edge of the bathtub. 

Taking his hands in yours, you guided them towards the water, placing them underneath your chest. Even though you expected his touch, you still jerked when you felt his palms make contact with your body. 

Instinctively, your husband wanted to retract his hands again but you held them still with your own palms pressed against them. Once the initial shock faded, you were certain that you wanted to be held exactly like that. 

A part of you still wanted to fight this vulnerable situation but a much bigger, much more confident part longed to be close to the love of your life. 

It was as if Spencer sensed your ambiguity. “You okay?” 

“Yes,” you confirmed. Then you thought about the way your body flinched when he touched you. It had happened before each time Spencer had touched you in places that he had touched, too. “I just feel like my body has to relearn a couple of things.”

Spencer nodded before finally being able to relax a bit. He leaned back while holding you against him, relishing the sensation of having you close without any barriers between you. Just for a moment he forgot about what had happened to you and to your own surprise, so did you. 

For the following weeks you made it a new habit to take baths with each other. There was something so sweet about getting clean together, it became a sacred ritual you wanted to repeat over and over. 

Slowly but surely you got more comfortable around Spencer. There was a time when you didn't think it was possible that the two of you would cuddle every night and every morning without constantly having to fear that you’d freak out at any given moment. 

But just like that it happened. Spencer didn't have to think twice about hugging you from behind and leaving a feather-light kiss on your neck. He didn't hesitate to pull you into his arms when he woke up before you. 

He did however wake up in shock and almost jumped out of bed when one morning he realized he had sleepily pressed his erection against your thigh. Having woken up before him, you had noticed it, too. You could have easily moved away but found no reason to do so.

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer murmured as he moved away from you, his voice still sounding raspy from his slumber.

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Spencer. I know basic biology,” you snickered. “Now come back here.”

Hesitantly, he moved back towards your open arms. The warmth you radiated was too hard to resist so it took very little convincing for him to find his place inside your embrace again. 

Gentle fingertips danced along his arms, making him hum in contentment. It had always amazed you how his skin felt so particularly soft and tender in the morning. His curls hung unruly from his head and you couldn't resist intertwining your fingers with them. 

You thought back to the many times you had woken up like this. Back then when it still was normal for your hands to become curious enough to explore every curve and dip of each other’s bodies. 

It was odd to think about before. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime away, other times it felt like nothing had ever changed. It made you feel like the man who hurt you had the power to bring a new time reckoning upon you. You didn't want him to. 

It only spurred you further on to fully reclaim your body again. 

Your fingers found Spencer’s jaw to tilt his head just enough for you to be able to kiss him. His lips felt so soft as he slowly reciprocated your actions. It was sweet and innocent at first but your desire to feel more of him only grew the longer you kissed. Slightly shifting your leg you could feel his hardness again, making him whimper at the sudden pressure against it. 

As your hand found its way under his shirt, you brushed over the softness of his tummy. Shaking fingertips followed the trail of hair leading further down before changing their direction and moving upwards to feel his chest. The beating of his heart was faster than usual, almost erratic. 

With cautious motions he mirrored your eagerness and let his palm wander beneath your shirt as well. You deepened the kiss when you felt his fingers wander over your waist, leaving goosebumps on their path. Spencer became hungry, almost desperate as his tongue brushed over yours, melting into you in a way he hadn’t for too long. 

It was what you longed for too, what you had been hoping to finally be ready for. 

Then he touched your breast and it all came crashing down again. 

“Stop!” 

Healing really wasn’t linear. 

In an instant Spencer retracted his hand and leaned back to give you some space. Widened eyes looked back at him and it took both of you a second to realize what had just happened. Before he could apologize, you did. 

“I’m sorry… I really thought I was okay with that.”

For a moment Spencer closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Then he looked at you again, a soft expression on his face. “Please don’t ever feel the need to apologize for that,” he cooed. 

Unlike other times, you were able to calm down quickly. Instead of pushing your husband further away, you still yearned for his proximity. He seemed surprised when you moved closer to him again to lay your head down on his chest. Content to still have the privilege to hold you close, he wrapped his arms around you before a relieved sigh fell from his lips. 

There was no need to leave the comfort of your shared bed just yet, so you just lay there together, basking in each other’s warmth. 

Spencer placed a gentle kiss into your hair before breathing, “I love you.” 

“I love you more.”

You tried your best to be kind to yourself in that moment. It was a learning opportunity for you. Just a few weeks ago lying close to your husband like that was unthinkable. Even if they felt like baby steps at the time, it was still progress. 

The images of recent intimate encounters flooded your mind and let a pleasant calmness spread through your body. Spencer’s kisses tasted sweet and made you feel insatiable, always longing for more. Feeling his skin pressed against yours as he held you close in the bathtub enveloped you in a safe feeling unlike anything else. 

You thought back to those rare moments when you considered taking things further lately, just like you had tried just now. There was something you had wondered about. 

“I have noticed that when we cuddle…,” you began your sentence, unsure of how to continue. “Even when we’re naked in the bathtub together, you uhm… never get aroused? That was very different before.” 

Spencer cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he let out an awkward laugh. “I try really hard not to. I think about baseball a lot.” 

His response confused you. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you raised your eyebrows at him. “You think about baseball when we’re taking baths together? You don’t even like sports.” 

Spencer just shrugged and added, “Sometimes I try to solve equations, too.”

“Please don’t do that anymore,” you pleaded as you laid back down beside him. “It makes me feel good to see you’re still interested in me.” 

“Of course I am still interested. I just really do not want to make you uncomfortable or feel pressured in any way.”

Your words were genuine when you said, “I don’t think that will happen. I actually really liked seeing you in all of your morning glory earlier.”

Your husband smiled at you. “Yeah?”

A smirk formed on your face. “It reminded me of the countless times we were both late for work because we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves after waking up.” 

“That was fun,” Spencer chuckled. “What wasn’t fun though was the conversation I had to have with Hotch after being late four days in a row.” 

His words made you laugh, too. Then, after a few moments of comfortable silence, your husband hesitantly asked, “Can I ask you something?” 

Tilting your head to find his eyes, you responded, “Of course.”

“You don’t have to answer this but I’m wondering… Do you ever get aroused in those moments, too?” 

You were used to talking openly about intimacy with your husband, that had always been a normal part of your relationship. His question didn't feel odd and you wanted to respond to it. 

For a long time after what happened, your longing to feel his nearness wasn’t connected to any sexual desires. At times you even felt like your libido had gotten lost entirely. Recently that had changed. 

More and more you had become aware of the little spark inside you that was ignited when you were with him. It was very different from the burning flame that was there before but your desire grew each time you were together. 

“Lately, yes,” you sincerely answered. Thinking about it some more, you decided to share another detail with him. “I even started uhm… touching myself again.”

Spencer seemed a little surprised by your response. “You did? That's good to hear.” His palm brushed gently over your arm when he added, “I can imagine that's a good way to feel a connection to your body and your needs.” 

For a second you thought he might start one of his ramblings to share all his knowledge about the health benefits of masturbating. He didn't, though. 

“Yeah, it feels nice. Almost normal,” you said instead. “I obviously still have a long way to go when it comes to sex but… I finally feel like I’ll actually get there, eventually.”

“There's no rush,” he reminded you. “We have all the time in the world.” 

Your lips met his in a tender kiss. “Thank you for being so patient with me.” 

After a few more moments of enjoying each other's company, it was time to get up and get ready for the workday. That night you found yourself tangled up in bed with your husband again. 

As you breathed in his scent and felt the heat radiating off his skin, you noticed it again – the little spark inside your chest flared up and spread a tingling sensation through your body. 

Your mouth found Spencer's neck to leave a trail of kisses along it, before it moved over his jawline and found his lips at last. He hummed when you kissed him and you could feel his fingertips twitching against your waist. 

It didn't take long until you deepened the kiss, a quiet moan slipping through your lips when Spencer’s tongue found yours. 

With your body pressed against his you didn't allow any distance between the two of you. It still wasn’t enough for you, though. There was too much fabric in the way of really feeling close to him. 

Your hand moved to the hem of his shirt to grip it and impatiently push it upwards. Spencer moved with you as you pulled it over his head. When your fingers moved to the waistband of his pajama pants next, he interrupted the kiss to find your eyes. 

A smile was painted over your face when you nodded, reassuring him that you were okay. You weren’t sure yet where exactly this was going but you felt safe enough to explore your options.

“We can stop or slow down at any point,” he reminded you.

“I know.”

After kissing him again, you sat up so you could continue undressing him. Slowly you pulled down his pants, an audible breath falling from your lips when you saw he was already half-hard. 

Spencer scanned your face for any sign of discomfort but found none. What he saw instead was excitement and curiosity. It made him smile. 

He sat up and brushed his hands over the fabric of your shirt. By lifting your arms over your head you gave him the sign he needed to remove the piece of fabric. He gently motioned for you to lay back down before he made contact with your hips, carefully brushing over your pajama shorts. 

There was no hesitation to be found when you lifted your hips for him to pull them down, without ever breaking eye contact. You thought about how different this situation was from being naked with him in the bathtub. Some parts of you remained hidden from him even then. 

You wanted him to see you, even when being exposed to him like that still felt a little scary.

After he had dropped the last piece of clothing on the floor, you dared to open your thighs for him to see every part of you. A rosy shade spread over his cheeks as he dared to look at you. It reminded you of when you were with him for the very first time many years ago. 

Just like then, he breathed, “You're so beautiful.” 

You could feel how some arousal had already gathered at your center and wondered if Spencer could see the glistening. By the way his pupils dilated you had a hunch that he did. 

Then, after he had fully taken in your beauty, it was as if he was frozen in place. He used to be so confident in situations like that, knowing your body better than his own and never questioning his next move. Things were very different now and you both sensed it. 

His eyes met yours and it became obvious how unsure he was of how to proceed. 

Opening your arms, you cooed, “Come here, love.” 

He seemed relieved when he lay back down beside you again. You wanted to kiss him but he hesitated. 

After a moment, he suggested, “I think it would be helpful if you talked to me more. I need you to tell me exactly what you want to do.”

“I’m figuring this out as we go, too,” you explained. “Right now I don't know where this is going. I only know that I really want to kiss you.”

His nose brushed against yours. “I would really like that, too.”

Just a split second later you got lost in another kiss. The way your bodies were pressed against one another while your lips were connected let you briefly forget where your body ended and his began. After shifting your position, you became well aware of that again. 

Spencer was fully hard now and his erection was firmly pressed against your thigh. You moved your leg slightly, prompting him to whimper into your mouth. The hand on your waist moved down to your hip and his fingertips pressed into your skin. 

“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips. “Can we slow down for a moment?” 

His grip on your hip lightened immediately before he moved his hand back up to your waist. Spencer placed one last peck on your mouth and pulled back. “Do you want to stop?” 

You shook your head. “No, I just need a little break. To make sure it doesn't get too much.” 

The truth was that you felt really good in that moment. Excited, loved and so, so turned on. It just felt safer to take things slowly. Gently you pushed against his shoulder until he was lying on his back. You found your home inside his arms. 

Your lips grazed over his cheek as you breathed, “How are you feeling, Spencer?” 

He chuckled at your question. “You have no idea how good I’m feeling right now.” 

As you let your head rest on his shoulder, you dared to look down at his body. The extent of his desire laid on his stomach and you noticed how a bead of precum had formed at his tip. Your fingers itched to touch him, to remember how hot and heavy his cock always felt inside your palm. 

A curious hand made its way down his chest, over the side of his stomach, brushing along his thigh. For a second you hesitated but then you let your palm hover over his hardness. 

Then you felt a pit form in your stomach and decided to retract your hand again. It might have just been your nervousness but that didn't change the fact that you couldn't continue in this moment. 

Your husband had watched each of your motions intently. It was obvious that he was burning to find relief. 

Tilting your head to find his eyes, you purred, “I want you to feel good.”

“It’s okay, my love. You don’t have to,” he reminded you.

You knew that, of course. There was still something else you could do together. 

As you began kissing his neck, his throat vibrated under your lips and a moan escaped his mouth. Then, you whispered into his ear, “I want you to touch yourself.”

Spencer’s eyes widened at your request and the rosy color on his cheeks turned a shade darker. It seemed like he needed a little more encouragement, so you lay back down inside his arm and opened your legs to give yourself access. 

“Okay, I’ll start,” you teased as you let your hand wander down your own body. 

Mesmerized by the sight, his eyes followed the path of your fingers. When you parted your folds to access your most sensitive spot, Spencer hissed a curse. 

The honeyed wetness between your legs made it easy for your fingertips to move through your folds. It felt relieving to touch yourself like that. Just like Spencer you were yearning for release. 

When your husband heard your heavy sighs as you pleasured yourself, he couldn't hold back anymore. You watched as his hand found his cock, a view that let your heart pound inside your chest. 

First, he wrapped his fingers around his shaft and squeezed, prompting droplets of his arousal to run down his tip. Then, he swiped his thumb over the leaking head before he slowly began moving up and down. Your mouth hung open as you watched that sinful scene unfold in front of you. 

As Spencer accelerated the pace of his fist, sounds of pleasure filled the room. His eyebrows were scrunched up and desperation was written all over his face. 

He had never looked more beautiful.

Distracted by the mesmerizing view, the hand at your core stopped moving. Instead of continuing, you let it wander away from your body to touch Spencer’s thigh. Before you could overthink it, your hand kept moving to his center. 

A heavy breath fell from his lips as your fingertips cautiously brushed over the velvety skin of his balls, making his body jerk underneath you. Smiling to yourself, you remembered how sensitive he was. 

Spencer stopped moving his hand, waiting to see how you’d proceed. When you touched the soft curls at his base, he whimpered. It was then that you realized that you were not scared anymore and that your nervousness had turned into excitement. 

“Can I continue?”

Spencer audibly gulped before removing his hand. “Yes… please.” 

When you wrapped your fingers around his length, both of you moaned in unison. Holding him in your hand like that felt both familiar and novel at the same time. You started moving your palm and quickly remembered how exactly he liked to be touched. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feels good!” 

With all the built-up tension and those months of abstinence, it only took a few moments until Spencer was getting close to reaching his point of no return. Familiar with all the telltale signs of his impending climax, you continued caressing him. Coming closer to his undoing, his cock twitched inside your palm and his entire body started quivering. 

His release began spilling over your hand and onto his stomach while he kept pulsing against your fingers. You kissed his jaw and his neck before you reached for the tissues on your nightstand to do some damage control of the mess you had created. 

Your husband’s chest was still heaving when you finished cleaning him up. Concern was written all over his face when he found your eyes.

He pulled you back into his embrace as he asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I am. That was really fun,” you snickered. 

Spencer's hand brushed over your back as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth. “Do you want me to touch you?”

The truth was that your entire body was aching for his touch. You could feel the heat burning between your legs and were aware that your arousal had started coating the insides of your thighs. It had been a long time since you’d felt so turned on. 

And yet, the thought of him actually doing something about it made you nervous. 

“I’m not sure,” you admitted. “I would like to kiss you again, though.”

He let out a breathy laugh before finding your mouth once more. Feeling his lips on yours only blazed up the fire burning inside you. You shifted your position until you were hovering over your husband, one of his thighs pressed between yours. 

Tentatively you began rocking your hips against his leg, sighing as you realized how pleasant the friction was. 

“Is that okay?” You breathed against his lips as you kept moving. 

“More than okay,” he reassured you. “Use my body however you like.”

You sat up as you ground against his skin, feeling him tense his thigh underneath you. Taking his hands in yours, you placed them on your hips so he could help you move. Soon you had created a mess on his leg as you spread your wetness along his skin. 

With your entire entire body twitching, your motions became erratic. Looking down at Spencer, you found him staring at you with lust-filled eyes and a wicked grin painted over his face. 

As you danced along the edge of euphoria, you forgot your surroundings. It was only you and him right then. “I love you,” you whimpered and before your husband could respond, you collapsed into his arms as pleasure overcame you. You kept pressing your core against his leg as your whole body shook. 

Spencer held you firmly inside his arms as you came down from your high. He kissed your forehead and whispered, “I love you more.”

After your heart rate had come down to a normal frequency and you weren’t panting anymore, you kissed your husband. 

“How are you feeling?” He wanted to know. 

“Good. And also a little sticky,” you snickered, hinting at the mess you had created between your legs. 

“Yeah, me too,” Spencer chuckled. “How about I run us a bath so we can get cleaned up?” 

The prospect of that made your heart flutter. “That sounds wonderful.”

Author's Note: Writing this story took me two years and I am so relieved I was finally able to get it to paper. I hope reading it felt as cathartic for you as writing it was for me. Thank you for reading! I would really appreciate a reblog and a comment.

Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings

Receiving a call from your ex while you’re fucking Luigi. He answers the phone and tells you to speak 🫣.

Another repost. This was the first fic I ever wrote so it’s a bit all over the place. Enjoy bbys 😋

Luigi shifts under you. You’re straddling his lap grinding into him. “Hmm you want me to…?” he begins. “Yes yes please, I need you” you reply without hearing the end of his question. You’ve been making out in bed for a few minutes. You’re so turned on you feel the wetness pooling between your legs and feel Luigi harden under you. You kiss him again. Hard. Your teeth clank together and you pull back horrified. “Omg sorry did I hurt you?” You place your hands over your mouth embarrassed at how desperate you’re acting. Luigi does nothing but laugh. “Hahah it’s ok, baby” he says tilting his head to the side. His expression is cocky. He loves how desperate and needy he makes you. He knows no one else makes you feel this way and it turns him on. You laugh out of relief, dropping your hands and go back to kissing him, softer this time. You place your hands onto Luigi’s broad shoulders and his hands are on your ass, kneading at the supple flesh.

“More” you whine. “Need more”. You’re grinding down harder onto Luigi’s clothed pelvis trying desperately to ease the pressure down below. You arch your back, the seam of your sweats rubbing deliciously on your clit. You rock back and forth small mewls slipping from your mouth in between each kiss. Luigi moves to kiss down your cheek to your neck and slowly pulls the neckline of your top down to reveal your breast. “This ok?” He places a small kiss on your collarbone looking up at you. Your eyes catch his and you hum in response. Your hands are still resting on his shoulders, supporting you, while you rock back and forth. “Say it” he kisses the same spot on your collarbone. “Need to hear you say it.” He gets off on making you wait. He loves seeing you needy and whiny, making you so desperate you’d do whatever he tells you to. “Y- yes” you manage to get out between gritted teeth. He hesitates a moment before deciding that he’s satisfied with your response. He won’t make you wait any longer. He kisses your boob, just above the nipple. And kisses slightly lower but not low enough. A moan slips through your lips. “Mm yeah” you encourage him. You move one hand to rest on his head, interlocking your fingers between his curls. You use the hand to push his head down. He moves his mouth down, enveloping your whole nipple in his warm mouth. He sucks hard, moving his tongue around massaging your hard nipple. He moves and grabs the other boob and begins rolling your nipple between his fingers. He stays this way a few moments and your rocking slows to a halt. You let out small whines and moans encouraging him. Both your hands are in his hair now, grabbing, pulling and scratching. “You’re so whiny, baby” Luigi pulls away with a grin. “So so whiny” he continues. You’re so turned on you could cry. You look down at him and let out a breathy laugh which turns into a moan. You’re so frustrated with his teasing you grasp a chunk of his hair and pull hard. “Mmmm please” you throw your head back, rolling your hips against his once more so desperate to feel some sort of pleasure. Luigi is taken aback by this show of neediness. His head jerks back while you pull and he winces. You feel his dick twitch under you. “F-fuck ok” he lets out. He reaches out for your hand and untangles your fingers from his hair. He leans in close and whispers “take your clothes off” flashing his incisors.

Upon hearing this you scramble off of him desperately pulling off your pyjama pants and oversized t shirt. “Leave them on” he instructs, before you can pull your panties off. He moves to remove his blue Bali t-shirt, discarding it on the floor. He keeps his boxers on and you notice how hard he is under them. the outline of his dick is obvious as it strains against the fabric of his boxers. He gets up on his knees on the bed, patting the space he was sitting on, inviting you over. You lie down in his space. Your knees bent slightly, feet planted on the mattress, legs spread. Your hands resting on your sides. He takes a moment admiring you, deciding where to begin. He wants to ravage you, savour you, devour you. He enjoys making you feel good. It brings him pleasure. Feeling you come undone under him. He enjoys fucking you, slowly and passionately. Feeling the change in you. Growing desperate and needy to the point of submission. He gets you to a place no man has been able to.

You know what’s about to come. You see it in his eyes. The way they twinkle. His breath is heavy and his eyes wander over your body. He tilts his head as if sizing you up, ready to eat you. You enjoy this. The waiting. Waiting for him to decide what to do with you. How to pleasure you. How to enjoy you. You feel breathless, your chest rising and falling. You place one hand on your upper thigh and drag it slowly upwards. Dragging it over your clothed pelvis, up over your belly button and let it rest on your tit. You squeeze, kneeling slowly. Your nipples are sensitive from Luigi’s mouth so you go slow not to overstimulate yourself. “Come on, touch me” you encourage Luigi to begin. You don’t want to beg. Not just yet. He still doesn’t move so you reach out, tenderly, holding his hand and bringing it to rest over your mound. You half expected him to smack your hand away and make you wait. He slides one long finger over your slit. Up and down. He can feel the wetness leaking out, dampening your panties. “Soo so wet. All for me, baby?” He adjusts so that he’s lying on his side, one hand on you, the other arm propping him up. He runs his slender fingers over the elastic of your panties. “Mhm all for you” you let out. He dips one finger in, extending it to rub small circles over your clit. Your hips buck upwards and a moan leaves your lips. Much louder than you care to admit. He adds another finger, collecting your wetness and using it to rub your clit faster and harder. Your high pitched whines fill the room along with the lewd noises coming from between your legs.

Luigi slips one finger into you and then quickly follows with another. “Getting you ready f’me” he says, brushing his fingers against the spongy spot inside you. Luigi is big and he knows it. He keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing much slower. Your whines turn to moans, almost growls as you grow more and more desperate for him. For his dick. Inside you. He picks up the pace, and you feel as though you can cum just from his fingers alone. "yeah, let me hear you" He leans over, locking his lips to yours. You kiss him back reaching your free hand to rub the fabric over his dick. A small wet patch formed at his tip from pre cum. You continue palming at his dick before he lets out a low groan. "That's good, baby". He takes such good care of you. Such care goes into making sure you feel good. You sometimes forget he also deserves to feel just as good.

Luigi removes his fingers and pushes your panties to the side. "pretty" he whispers, admiring your pussy. Luigi leans down and places a small kiss to your swollen clit. You arch your back "ohh fuck" you close your eyes and tip your head back, further into the pillow. He knows he has teased you enough. He slips off the bed to remove his boxers. He stands before you, pumping his dick in his big hands, spreading the precum over his tip. You're already so wet for him. You look over at him, hair disheveled, your lips red and puffy spread into a wide smile. you reach out a hand, inviting him back to bed. Inviting him back to fuck you. Taking your hand, he climbs back into the bed, placing his body on top of yours. His hips slit into the space between your legs, almost perfectly. Almost as though your bodies were made that way. Without hesitation he pushes into you, a small gasp leaving his mouth. You, on the other hand, let out a loud moan. "mmm fuck lu". "Tell me when" he says, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. He waits a moment for you to adjust to the stretch. You'll never get over this feeling. No matter how many times he fucks you, you will never not enjoy the stretch from his thick member. the pressure building again from the thick tip pushing against the spongy sensitive spot inside you. "ok ready" you wrap your arms around Luigi's neck, ready for him to begin pounding into you. He waits a moment before moving his hips. Moving his dick slowly out of you and then pushing in again. He does this again, making sure that you are ready and comfortable. "Shit, so good" you moan. The slow strokes feel euphoric. "Gripping me so tight" Luigi spits out as he picks up the pace. His hands reach up to hold your head up. His hands holding your head up as he kisses your lips, your cheeks, your nose. You can't form any thoughts as he picks up the pace, bottoming out in you, the familiar feeling of his dick hitting your cervix causes you to moan out. It hurts but in the best way. Luigi is practically pounding into you. The sound of skin hitting skin fills your ears and you feel sweat gathering at the base of your spine. You're moaning like a porn star and he's filling your ears with the most disgusting things. "You like that hmmm? You like when I'm pounding into you?" his words go straight to your pussy, gripping him like a vice. You can feel the thick vein that runs along his shaft rubbing against your gummy walls. "answer me baby, tell me you like it" "oh y-yes. Fuck I love it lu!" you practically scream out, fearing he might stop if you don't answer him. "that's my pretty gir-" before he can complete his sentence, he spots something, slowing his pace. You feel the change in pace and reach your hands to grab at his lower back, attempting to speed him up.

"Noo keep going" you look up at him and realise something has caught his attention. You follow his eyeline to your phone resting on the nightstand. You notice the familiar pattern of the vibration. You are getting a phone call. "ugh forget it baby" you say. "I'll call them back, whoever it is" you whine out, desperate for him to continue. Luigi reaches for the phone, holding it up so you can see the screen.

incoming call from - Devil Man 👹

Shit. Your toxic ex recently got a hold of your new number. He had called you twice this past week begging to meet up with you, telling you to leave Luigi and go back to him. You hadn't mentioned it to Luigi out of fear he would march over to his house and beat the living shit out of him. Not that your ex doesn't deserve it and you know that Luigi is perfectly capable of doing so, with all the hours he's put into the gym and the years of taekwondo training. You just didn't want Luigi to get into any trouble. Not over that worthless dog.

"Why not just answer it now?" Luigi says with a cheeky grin. Before you can protest, he presses the circular green button, connecting the call. he places the phone on speaker and you hear the familiar sound of your ex boyfriends voice. "y/n i'm so glad you answered". You're eyes are wide with shock, you're shaking your head at luigi questioning what on Earth made him answer the phone. He mouths one single word, "speak" before continuing his brutal pace. You cover your mouth not just out of shock but also to avoid a moan escaping your mouth. "y/n? You there?" Luigi brings the phone closer to you, you manage to mumble a small "yeah" into the general direction of the phone. All you can focus on is Luigi. hovering above you with the biggest smile ever. His dick is pounding into you, bottoming out with every stroke. You feel every inch, every vein brushing against the inside of your walls. He moves your hand away from your mouth, giving you a look to indicate you can do better than that. "oh good you're there. look can i come over?" your ex asks. Luigi scoffs at the request and then signals with his hands encouraging you to play along. "well no, i'm k- kind of busy." You let out shakily. Luigi showed no signs of slowing down. In Fact he reaches down between your naked bodies and slaps your clit. It's a light slap but enough to make you yelp. "what was that? Where are you right now?" your ex begins to question you. "nothing i j- just... Nothing." You're struggling to keep your composure. Luigi smiles then begins rubbing slowly on your clit. The wave of pleasure causes you to let out a low moan. You look at luigi, pleading with your eyes to let up but he shows so signs of slowing down. "come on, i promise i can make you feel way better than that loser you're seeing now. What's his name? Mario?" Hearing your ex talk about Luigi in that way makes your blood boil. Luigi's pace becomes teasingly slow, resulting in him pushing into you so deep and then slowly moving out. His tip teases your cervix every time he pushes in, causing your eyes to roll back. Trying not to scream, you reply "I doubt that.. and it's LUIGI." You look at him and he couldn't be prouder. He presses the mute button on the phone and whispers "keep going, gonna make you cum, baby." in your ear. You press unmute and hear your ex rambling on about how good he can fuck you and about how much more money he makes. "Come on, sweetheart. Please I want you back, I fucked up, ok? Just let me prove to you I'm a changed man." You're so certain he's crying right now and the thought of your slimy ex crying on the phone begging to fuck you whilst the most perfect man is on top of you fucking you so deliciously, makes you want to cum. Luigi is finding humour in listening to him begging you to fuck him, he's shaking his head and smiling, poking his tonge into the side of his cheek, as though he can't belive the audacity of your ex. Luigi moves his hand away from your clit and reaches for the headboard as he braces himself to start pounding into you again. You let out a small whine in anticipation. "Wait are you..." you hear on the phone "what is that noise? Are you with him right now?" Luigi begins pounding into you again, the noise of skin hitting skin fills the room, filtering through the phone's mic. You let out another moan and Luigi grabs your phone. "Sorry bro, she's kinda busy right now" frat boy luigi makes an appearance, speaking into the phone with the biggest grin plastered onto his face. "y/n what is-" before your ex can finish, luigi cuts the call, tosses your phone and turns to you. "fuckk you're all mine" he says reaching once again between your bodies down towards your clit. "All yours" you moan.

A small part of you wishes your ex stayed on the call long enough to hear you cum. especially since most of the time you had to fake it with him. Luigi makes you cum every single time. He takes the time to learn what you like and what makes you feel good. He prides himself on knowing every part of you. And you fall more and more in love with him every time.

Luigi’s bullying pace compared to the gentle touch on your clit is driving you crazy. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, your nails digging into his upper back. A small tear runs down your cheek as you practically scream out "yes. FUCK yes. oh right there" you're so consumed by him. Every nerve on your body is screaming, every hair on your body stood on end. your legs begin to shake as you feel the familiar tightness in your lower belly. You press your palm down on your belly to feel Luigi filling you so deep. "yes baby, f- fuck stay there, gonna- gonna make you cum" you can tell that Luigi is just as close. His eyes are screwed shut and his head tilted upwards. Seeing him in this state pushes you over the edge. The muscles in your legs contract and you dig your nails into Luigi's back, sure to leave a mark. Your eyes screw shut and you scream out Luigi's name. "cumming" is all you can muster. "Yeah, let it out, my pretty girl," he says. You're panting trying to regain your breath. Luigi cums straight after, gasping then letting out a low string of groans as he repeats your name like a prayer "y/n. y/n so perfect" he says spilling into you. You feel him twitching as he stills inside of you. He's coming down from his high and presses his sweaty forehead against yours, smiling. "fuck, I love you so much" you say placing a peck on his lips. "Hmm, I love you too," he says after pulling away. "no one makes me feel as good as you do" you admit to him

Luigi rolls his body off yours and onto the bed next to you. "Let me take care of you" he pulls you into him. your head resting on his chest, his muscly arms wrapped around your frame. fingers stroking your skin "my perfect girl" he sighs into you. You hum in pleasure. There's nowhere else you'd rather be right now.

Tag list 🏷️: @multi-culti-girl @sabrininaa (comment to be added)

Can we have a round of applause for the chain here

Luigi taking care of you on your period (fluff)

This is one of my favourite things I’ve written!! I’m so glad I found it!

It’s the second day of your period, always the worst. You’re lying on the floor in your living room, curled up in a fetal position, trying your hardest to make the pain go away. You roll onto your knees and bend forward, resting your head between your thighs, hands planted flat on the floor in front of you. You rack your brain, trying to remember the position that’s supposed to help ease period cramps, according to a women's health article you read months ago. You let out a frustrated huff. Nothing is making the pain subside.

“Still painful?”

Luigi looks down at you from the sofa. His laptop rests on his thighs, illuminating his face. The glasses perched on his nose reflect the screen, displaying some program he’s been working on for the past few weeks.

“Yeeessss,” you draw out.

“Come, let’s cuddle. Maybe it’ll help,” he says, reaching out an arm and placing a comforting hand on your back. He rubs up and down. His hands are big and warm.

One thing about Luigi—he’s always warm. Even when it’s cold, he’s warm. You, on the other hand, always run cold. You love cuddling up to him, soaking in his body heat, nuzzling your head into his chest while his big hands roam over you. Your own personal heater.

The thought of curling into his warm body is inviting, but the thought of actually getting up to move is not. You turn your head to look at him and flash a smile.

“Hm, that would be nice,” you reply.

“Yeah?” Luigi smiles back, shutting his laptop and placing it on the table next to him. He stands up, stepping over your body. You straighten your back, sit up on your knees, and lift your arms toward him—much like a baby wanting to be picked up. He stands in front of you and reaches down, grabbing you under your arms and lifting you effortlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. His hands settle on your plush ass, squeezing it through your sweats. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, and he giggles. His stubble is scratchy against your face.

“Let’s go,” he states.

“Where are we going?” you giggle back, already feeling more relaxed.

I suppose it's true what they say about happy hormones. Some people exercise, others use drugs to experience a rush of endorphins, but for you, happiness is Luigi. He will always be your happy space.

“The bedroom. I promise it’ll be more comfy, baby,” he assures you, carrying you down the hall toward your room.

He opens the door to your shared bedroom, revealing a mess—an unmade bed, sheets disheveled. Luigi tries his best to quickly neaten the sheets with one hand while the other rests on your lower back, supporting you. Once satisfied, he drops both himself and you onto the bed.

His back rests against the headboard as you shift, getting comfortable in his lap, head against his chest, legs bent into yourself. One arm hooks under your knees, the other drapes around your waist. His fingers fiddle with the fabric of your top.

“This okay?” he asks while scanning your face, checking that you’re comfortable. He’s always been able to read you like a book, picking up on the slightest changes in your expression and knowing how you’re feeling, what you’re thinking.

“Perfect,” you reply, nuzzling further into him. You feel his body relax into yours, satisfied that he’s doing his job to help ease your pain.

“You know, this would feel so much better if we were both naked,” he smirks.

You let out a breathy laugh. Surely, he’s joking.

“No, babe, I’m serious. I read this article about skin-to-skin contact and how it helps when you’re in pain or distress.” Luigi starts listing off the reasons why skin-to-skin contact will help alleviate your pain, rambling about hormones and pain receptors. Even though both of his hands are on you, his fingers move in sync with his words. His eyebrows lift and fall, his blinking becomes more intense as he recalls the information.

God, you love this nerdy man.

“—so then your brain sends signals to your pain receptors and—”

Before he can continue, you place a gentle hand over his mouth. He’s brought back down to Earth, and you feel his lips curve into a smile under your palm.

“Okay, doctor. I’ll get naked,” you say with a teasing smile.

Luigi’s cheeks flush red. He always gets shy and embarrassed when he realizes he’s been rambling. You feel slightly guilty for cutting him off, so before you do anything else, you reassure him.

“I love how much you care about me, my love. Really, I do.”

His expression softens upon hearing your words. You place a small kiss on the tip of his nose before climbing off his body. You feel another cramp, the dull ache making you wince. You rest a hand on your stomach as you walk toward the bathroom, aware of Luigi’s eyes trailing after you, watching the way your hips sway.

In the bathroom, you undress but decide to keep your bra and underwear on. You take a quick glance in the mirror. Your hair is a tangled mess, heavy bags hang under your eyes, and hormonal acne peppers your lower jaw. But regardless of how unattractive you might feel, Luigi always looks at you like you’re the most beautiful girl, never failing to shower you with compliments and uplift you when you talk down on yourself. You smile at your reflection, then turn and walk back toward the bedroom.

The bedroom door is open, and you see Luigi standing before the bed in nothing but his boxers, removing his sweater. His sweats are in a pile on the floor, and his glasses are folded neatly on the vanity. You pause at the doorway, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, watching him for a moment.

His body is on full display, his chest and abs look as though they’ve been chiseled into stone. The muscles in his arms flex as he haphazardly throws his sweater onto a chair. He notices you staring at him and smirks, dimples appearing. You feel warmth rush to your face, embarrassed that you've been caught staring.

His lips spread into a wide grin, his dimples appearing. He swells with a sense of pride. Luigi prides himself on his work ethic. He puts his all into whatever he does, and you admire him for that. His body for starters, due to his back pain he was unable to work out for a while, but you watched him through the endless hours of research and trial and error as he found a routine that worked for him. You slowly began to see the changes, the lines appearing on his abs the way his arms began to fill out his shirt sleeves, the way his leg muscles flex as he walks. You always make sure to point out the changes and to shower him with compliments, to make sure that he knows he looks good, even when he thinks he doesn’t. 

“You gonna stand there and stare, or are you going to join me?” Luigi teases, slipping back under the covers.

You push off the frame and walk toward the bed. Sliding in, you shuffle all the way under the duvet, leaving only your head poking out. Luigi chuckles, flashing you a boyish grin as he reaches for you under the blanket, gripping your hips and dragging you toward him.

“Come here,” he laughs.

Your almost-naked bodies tangle together as his muscular arms envelop you. His warmth seeps into your skin. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, his natural musk filling the air around you. You feel your whole being swallowed by his. The pure intimacy of it all makes your brain feel fuzzy.

You look up to place a peck on his lips, but he stops you with two fingers under your chin, before you can pull away. His lips meet yours, lingering for a moment before he pulls away, satisfied.

“See? Naked is much better,” he muses.

“Way better,” you agree with a smile, settling against him once more.

And in that moment, wrapped in Luigi’s warmth, you feel completely at peace.

One of his hands snakes upward, stroking your hair so tenderly. You let out a satisfied hum to let him know you’re enjoying it.

You close your eyes and stay this way for a while, listening to Luigi breathe, his chest rising and falling beneath you. You match your breathing to his, savoring his company and the intimacy of the moment.

Luigi breaks the silence. “Feeling any better, sweet girl?”

“A little. I still feel kinda stiff,” you respond, wrapping your legs tighter around his body. You feel another cramp, this time in your back, and immediately stiffen against him.

“Another cramp, baby?” Luigi asks, feeling you tense. “Want me to rub your back? Maybe it’ll help, huh?” He waits for your response, shifting slightly to look at your face.

You look up at him, catching his gaze. “No, Lui, let's just stay like this,” you whisper into his ear. “I’m comfortable,” you assure him, the feeling of guilt lingers, he had pulled away from his work just to cuddle with you. Still, you can’t deny how enticing the thought of a massage from Luigi sounds.

“Wait, I can try one of those massage techniques I read about! Remember I was telling you? They helped me, maybe they’ll help you too. Here, baby, just spin around, lay on your belly.” He gently maneuvers your body under the duvet until you're lying face down on the bed. “Comfy?” he asks.

You adjust slightly, wiggling into a comfortable position. “Yeah, but baby, I promise you don’t have to—”

Before you can finish, Luigi cuts you off. “Come on, just let me take care of you,” he retorts, flashing you a small smile you can’t resist. He moves to sit next to you on the bed, the blanket draped over his lower half.

“Okay, fine,” you huff playfully, smiling up at him. He slowly pulls the blanket down, exposing your bare back.

Luigi places his palms on your lower back, moving them up and down the length of your spine a few times, applying deep pressure. You close your eyes and let out a small groan, his touch offers immediate relief.

He then presses small circles into your lower back with his fingers, repeating the motion as he slowly works his way up to your shoulder blades. Then, he moves back down, making slight changes to the motions, checking in with you every so often. All you can manage in response is another groan, the relief is so satisfying you struggle to find the words. 

Above you, Luigi chuckles. “Damn, my hands are like magic, huh, baby?” You can picture the way he’s smiling. This is his love language, acts of service. Luigi always has a solution to your problems, and if he doesn’t, he’ll find one. God, what have you done to deserve such a man? You catch yourself thinking this multiple times a day.

“Hmm, whatever you say, babe,” you tease, giggling, jokingly downplaying just how much the massage is helping.

Luigi continues, gradually easing the pressure until his touches are featherlight. You feel yourself slipping into slumber, lulled by his gentle touch. At some point, you drift off, vaguely aware of Luigi wrapping you in his arms before sleep fully takes over.

When you wake, the sun is beginning to set, its warm glow spilling through the window. You aren’t sure how long you were asleep, but you’re no longer wrapped in Luigi’s arms. You still feel his lingering warmth and reach out, scanning the bed with your hand, searching for him. Your hand finds his thigh, and you open your eyes to see him, still shirtless, sitting up in bed with his laptop perched on his lap, fingers furiously typing away, completely engrossed in his work.

“Luigi?” Your voice is croaky from sleep. You crane your neck to look at him.

“Hey, baby, sorry, did I wake you?” he asks, shutting his laptop and placing it on the floor. “Was the typing too loud?”

“No, not at all. Hmm… I think I’m hungry,” you murmur, rubbing your hand up and down his thigh. You stretch under the blanket, letting out a satisfied groan.

“You still feel any pain?” Luigi asks, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, then your lips. You playfully jut your tongue out slightly before he pulls away, he makes a face of mock disgust. You chuckle.

“No, the massage worked. Thank you for that, my love,” you reply.

Luigi looks at you, tilting his head as he admires you for a moment, his eyes full of love and adoration. You meet his gaze, offering a small smile. Silent "I love you’s" pass between you before Luigi takes a sharp inhale. He slides off the bed. “Hey, let me get us something to eat. You want anything in particular?” He reaches for his sweats, pulling them on before tossing you his sweater.

“Oh, Lu, you’ve already done so much. Let me make us something,” you offer, sitting up and pulling his sweater over your head.

He glares playfully before smiling. “Absolutely not. What did I say earlier? Let me take care of you!”

“Okay, okay, you can cook.” Secretly, you're relieved. Between the two of you, Luigi is by far the better cook. He spent years perfecting old family recipes while in college, tweaking the recipes with tricks he picked up from cookbooks and online videos.

“Maybe I’ll make carbonara… Oh, wait, actually, I’m kinda craving risotto. It’s warm, and it’ll help you feel a bit better.” Luigi extends a hand to you, and you slip out of bed, walking hand in hand toward the kitchen.

You smooth your hair back and head to the sink to wash your hands while Luigi opens the fridge, pulling out ingredients for his famous risotto. He grabs a knife and begins dicing an onion with practiced ease. You push yourself up onto the counter, admiring his smooth knife skills.

The two of you stay like this, Luigi moving around the kitchen, preparing your meal, while you sit and drink him in. As he cooks, he starts explaining the small tweaks he made to his family’s traditional recipe. Originally, the onions were fried in butter, but he found olive oil to be a better alternative. He carries on rambling about the benefits of oil while you sit, listening to his nerdy ramblings.

Once the risotto is ready, Luigi carries two plates into the living room. You trail behind, carrying two glasses of water. He sets the food down, and you settle beside him on the couch. After eating, the evening unfolds in comfortable warmth, cuddling, talking, and laughing about everything and nothing.

“I love you so much, you know that?” you murmur, pressing your forehead against his.

“You know what? I love you too,” he whispers, pressing the softest kiss to your lips

drunkenly confessing your feelings for lu over voicemail…

You’re drunk. Very drunk. And despite every logical part of your brain telling you not to, you call your best friend Luigi.

He doesn’t pick up, so you leave a voicemail.

“Luuuigi…” You drag out his name like a secret, slurred at the edges. “M’drunk… and I like you. A lot. A lot a lot a lot.” You hiccup, giggling to yourself. “That’s a secret, though. But I can’t keep it a secret anymore. Like… more than a friends way.” A dreamy sigh escapes you. “Love you… Anyway, byeeee.”

And with that, you hang up, completely oblivious to the chaos you’ve just unleashed.

Luigi runs a hand through his curls as he listens to your voicemail, standing frozen in the dim glow of his phone screen.

His first reaction? A sharp inhale, his pulse quickening. His second? A hand over his mouth as he exhales a slow, steady breath, trying to suppress the smirk pulling at his lips.

Of all the ways he imagined this happening—if it ever did—this wasn’t one of them.

He calls you. No answer.

He texts you. No reply.

His stomach twists. Drunk. Alone. And you just confessed to him like it was nothing more than a casual remark.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s knocking on your door.

“Come iinnn…” your groggy voice calls out.

Luigi steps inside, his sharp hazel eyes scanning the room. You’re sprawled on the couch, one arm draped dramatically over your forehead like a tragic damsel from an old film.

You blink up at him, confusion flickering across your face. “Luigi? Why are you here?”

His lips part, then press into a thin line as he exhales through his nose. He shifts his weight, pushing a hand through his curls. “You called me,” he says, then adds, almost hesitantly, “…said some other things.”

You squint. “Did I?” Then, suddenly, you burst into laughter, the kind that shakes your whole body. “Guess I forgot.”

He watches you, one brow arching. “Clearly.”

You stretch like a cat, then pout up at him. “You always get like this when I drink.”

Luigi lets out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, because you drinking alone and ignoring my texts is exactly what I wanted to deal with tonight.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” He drops a case of water onto the floor beside the couch. “Because I came prepared.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you seriously—”

“Three bottles every hour,” he informs you matter-of-factly, crouching beside you. “Or at least until you stop acting like a Shakespearean tragedy.”

You groan, letting yourself sink into the cushions. “Ugh, you’re such a nerd.”

“Yeah? Well, this nerd just saved you from a hellish hangover.” He cracks open a bottle, handing it to you. “Drink.”

You do, only because he’s watching you so intently. He leans back on his heels, studying you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Nothing.” His lips twitch. “You’re just really honest when you’re drunk.”

Your stomach flips. “Oh?” You try to sound nonchalant, but it comes out nervous. “Mhm.” He tilts his head slightly. “You sure you don’t remember what you said?”

You shake your head, looking away. “Nope.”

His eyes gleam. “Interesting.”

A flicker of panic sparks in your chest. Did you say something that bad? Did you embarrass yourself beyond repair?

Before you can spiral, exhaustion washes over you, the warmth of alcohol lulling you into drowsiness. You shift, leaning against him, your forehead pressing lightly into his shoulder. “Stay,” you mumble. Luigi tenses slightly before relaxing. His arm curls around you, rubbing slow circles against your back. “Anything you need,” he murmurs, voice softer now. Your fingers brush against his shirt, gripping just slightly. He exhales, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he watches you slip into sleep.

It’s only then that Luigi allows himself to fully process what just happened.

You like him.

A lot.

And now he’s sitting here with you wrapped around him, heart pounding, unable to stop himself from smoothing his fingers through your hair.

“You gave me a scare, you know,” he mutters to your sleeping form. “But I guess you’re full of surprises.” His gaze lingers on you, his usual sharp and teasing expression softening. Then, eventually, he lets himself fall asleep, too.

When you wake up, everything is… warm.

Too warm.

Your cheek is pressed against something firm, your legs tangled with someone else’s. And—oh god—your hand is resting dangerously close to…

Your breath catches.

Slowly, you lift your head, blinking the sleep from your eyes.

Luigi.

Luigi, who is currently knocked out beneath you, looking entirely too peaceful, his usually strong features relaxed in slumber.

You stare.

Oh.

Oh no.

Did you—?

Your eyes dart to your clothes. Still on. Okay. That’s… good? Bad? Your head is pounding too much to tell.

Before you can overthink it, a deep, groggy voice cuts through the silence.

“Enjoying the view?”

Your whole body jerks.

Luigi’s eyes are barely open, but there’s a smug curve to his lips, amusement laced through his sleep-heavy tone.

You sputter. “I—! No—! I—”

He chuckles, stretching with a slow, lazy elegance. His hand lifts to rub at his face, then he peers at you with an unreadable expression.

Then, in a voice far too casual for the situation, he says, “I like you.”

Your brain stalls.

“Like…” You squint. “Like, like-like?”

He smirks. “What are we, twelve?”

Your mouth opens, then closes. Then opens again. “Wait.” A sudden realization dawns. “Did I say something last night?”

Luigi leans in, eyes dark with mischief. “Nope.”

You narrow your eyes. “…Liar.”

His smirk grows.

Your heart races.

Then, before you can talk yourself out of it, you take his face in your hands and kiss him. He immediately pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you. It’s slow and warm, a little uncertain at first, but the way he kisses back—firm, assured, just a hint of teasing—you melt into it.

When you finally pull away, your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing a little heavier.

“You have work soon,” you murmur, suddenly remembering. Luigi sighs dramatically. “Tragic, really.”

You grin. “What if you were just a teensy bit late?”

He hums, pretending to consider. “And what would I get in return?”

You lean in, letting your lips ghost over his. “Guess you’ll have to stay and find out.”

Luigi lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Tempting.” He stands. Before leaving, he tugs you forward by the wrist, planting one last kiss at the corner of your lips. “I’ll be back later, sweetheart.” His voice is low, promising.

And as you watch him go, you already can’t wait for later.

tag list 🏷️ my loves ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ @cherrysolo @slavicdolls4mangione @iinfinitelimits @poohkie90 @luweegeeswifey @number1yearner @noname123sposts @straw8berry @lavenderbabyyy @littlestl4mb @amoungusbartholo (lmk if u wanna be added or removed xx)

The Safe House - Part 3

luigi x unnamed reader fluff (a kiss?)

summary: fluff ! luigi and reader wake up in the vermont cabin, spend the morning together <.< coffee, showers, painting? its short lol

1,206w

PART 1

PREV FIC: PART 2

AN: jimmy butler to the warriors im sorry i feel like these are all trash but lmk what you think.

The Safe House - Part 3

How did I sleep longer than him? He was dead on his feet last night. Practically sleepwalking. But now he’s gone.I fling the blanket off of me and put my feet on the floor, cold against the worn-out wood, and I hear the shower running down the hall.

I get up, padding to the kitchen in my socks. There’s a box of muffins on the counter, one of those assorted grocery store packs. I grab a random one along with a banana, peeling it open and taking a big bite.

The sound of the bathroom door opening makes me look up.

Luigi steps out, steam curling behind him, wearing nothing but a towel slung low on his hips. His curly hair is damp, beads of water trailing down his toned shoulders and back. He doesn’t even look in my direction, just walks across the hall into the guest room. I barely catch a glimpse before the door clicks shut, but it’s enough to leave me breathless.

Jesus.

I swallow, finishing my banana too fast, nearly choking on it.

i turn back to the coffee maker and try to focus on making a pot. Im distracted by the sudden heat creeping up my neck. i shouldn’t be this flustered. By the time Ben shuffles out of his room, I got a few mugs lined up.

He takes one, mutters a half-hearted, “Mornin’,” and sits at the island counter, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Did you sleep?” I ask, eyebrow raised.

He grunts in response and takes a sip of his coffee.

It’s not long before Luigi reappears, fully dressed now, in some random clothes i swear are ben’s.. He moves toward the counter, right next to me, smelling like fresh body wash and warm skin. It’s too early for this. My pulse is already doing something stupid

“You woke up before me,” I say, still a little thrown by it.

“Yeah,” he says, voice quieter. “It’s hard to stay asleep.”

i glance at him, his dark curls still damp and defined.

There’s a beat of silence, and then he asks, “Have you painted anything yet since getting here?”

I blink, caught off guard. “Actually, yeah. I’ve finished two pieces and have a few others in progress.”

Ben smirks around his coffee. “You gonna paint a tragic portrait of this idiot?”

“Maybe.” i shoot back.

Ben snorts, shaking his head as he pushes off the counter, mumbling something about how we’re both weird, and heads upstairs, leaving just me and Luigi in the kitchen.

Luigi turns toward me fully now, his expression softer, brows pulling together. “Can you show me?”

"Yeah," I say, nodding quickly. "Yeah, c’mon."

I lead him toward the makeshift studio space I’ve set up in the loft, where canvases lean against the floor to ceiling windows, some finished, but most are half attempted ideas.

He steps past me, looking at all of it. and i get nervous. 

I bring him to an easel where my most recent piece is sitting, just finished.

“This one is newer. It’s supposed to represent feeling … out of control. Like there’s an unstoppable force, moving.” I point at the broad, deliberate strokes. “And this is the subject, whos anchored.”

He tilts his head toward the painting, eyes narrowing slightly 

“This is the movement?” he asks as he follows the direction of a brushstroke with his finger, tracing an invisible path in the air. 

I nod, excited. “Exactly! It’s like…”

Then it happens. He lowers his hand but his finger gets too close. 

 A streak of deep blue smears across the entire thing. Immediate and irreversible. A dark, muddy streak where my careful layers once were. We both gasp in unison.

“Oh my god,” he says, freezing like he just set off a bomb. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m-”  He looks at his hand, then at the painting, then back at me. “Shit. I ruined it.”

He tries to somehow put the paint he smeared back onto the canvas, but it just ruins it more. 

Luigi panics and looks at me, making a noise like he’s in physical pain from guilt.

I should be mad. This took me days. But he looks so horrified, like he just committed an actual crime, which, considering his actual crimes, makes this even funnier. He doesn’t feel bad about putting three bullets in Brian Thompson, but smudging some paint is unforgivable.

I can’t help it. I’m laughing. And somehow, the only thing I feel is affection. "Luigi, it’s fine."

"It is not fine! Oh my god…" He looks like he wants to throw himself into traffic, it’s pleasuring me.

And then, on impulse, I drag my finger right through the smear, making it worse.

His mouth falls open. “What are you doing?!”

“Adding to your idea.” I step back. The painting is different now. Not how I intended it to be, but it doesn’t look half bad. “It actually looks kinda cool.”

He’s still watching me, unsure if i’m messing with him. I smile and nudge him lightly with my elbow. “Wanna sign your name in the corner?”

His brows pull together. “I’m not an artist.”

I shrug. “Now you are.”

Something shifts in his expression. Like what I said actually got through to him in a way he wasn’t expecting. He stares at me, really stares, like I just handed him some kind of truth about himself that he wasn’t ready for.

Then, slowly, he nods. “You’re right.”

He picks up a brush, dips it into the paint, and scrawls his name in the bottom right corner.

Luigi.

I stare at it, then at him. “It’s kinda surreal seeing that.”

His voice is quieter now. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean… you were gone for months,we all thought you were dead. And now we’re making art together..”

Theres a beat, he leans against the wall, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Did you miss me?”

I scoff. “No.”

He smirks. “Liar.”

I roll my eyes, but my face is hot. “Where were you, anyway?”

He looks at me, probably gauging how much to say. “A few places.”

“Thats real specific, Lu.”

He diverts, “Last time I saw you, we were at that party.”

I blink. “Yeah. We…” I gesture awkwardly, a bit embarrassed, “ you know”

“We kissed.”

His gaze flickers to my mouth, just for a second. Then, so softly, like he’s testing the words, he says, “You’re the only person who knows I’m alive right now.”

My pulse is too loud in my ears. “I know.”

His hand lifts slightly, like he might touch me, but he hesitates. “That doesn’t freak you out?”

I shake my head. “No.”

His hand finally moves, fingertips tracing the back of my arm. He leans in just enough that I can feel his breath when he speaks. “You sure?”

I don’t get the chance to answer.

because then, he kisses me.

It’s hungry, needy, like he’s been thinking about this for a while and won’t wait another second.. His hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers curling just enough to make me shiver. I press into him, and he groans into my mouth, deep and low, like this kiss is pulling something out of him he didn’t even know he had, and hes holding it back.

I grasp at his shirt, tugging, pressing, needing more, and he gives it to me, kissing me deeper, harder, until my knees feel weak.

We break apart. His breathing is ragged, pupils huge.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “I missed you.”