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freeluigihesbae · 15 minutes ago

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bully the author into writing a part 2 pls and thx

Co-Parenting⋆.☘︎ ݁˖⋆˙⟡ — BD!Luigi Mangione x Reader ⋆˚｡☘︎⋆ TWs: Porn w Plot . Penetration . Co-parenting (if thats a trigger...) . Semi-toxic themes if u squint . Ambiguous relationships . ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ 7k + words. Im on a fucking roll.

Co-parenting was no easy task– you’ve gathered that from the sleepless nights wrestling a hyperactive two-year-old into bed.

On the days when you only had one set of hands, your daughter seemed to rain down on you like the wrath of a god. A tiny god, but a mighty and merciless one nonetheless.

She ruled and ripped through the white halls, splashing the ghostly white drywall with the many colors of Crayola with her bright and giddy smile not to mention the iron-clad lungs that she seemed to inherit from somewhere in her father's lineage.

But chaos and tribulations aside, you wouldn’t trade her for anything, your beautiful not-so-baby baby girl, Adelina.

She had her father's eyes, void and deep with brown and gold flecks of pale sunlight. She beared his cocoa-colored curls, but your presence illuminated her little nose and the scaffolding of her face. If it was possible to capture two faces at once, she’d be a prime example.

And as you strapped her into her pink and floral-print car seat, she chuckled as you peppered her face in kisses from head to chin.

“Mommy!! Mommy stop! No! You do’d too much! I do it,” Adelina instructed, her little face scrunched up in a full-muscle smile before she leaned over to you, her little nose pecking your cheek with the force of an angel.

“Thank you, Addy! You’re so sweet,” you cooed, your bottom lip jutting out in a heart-warmed pout as she poked at the freckles and acne scars on your face.

You tightened the polyester webbing on her car seat, clicking each buckle and gently pushing her fuzzy pink pom-pom hat back into place. After a glance at the car seat, you shoved your white BMW door closed and trekked around the car to reach the driver's seat.

“You ready to go see daddy, li-li?” you asked, glancing at her reflection in the rear-view mirror before the engine purred to life, the steady flow of heat gradually filling the space between the winter air.

“Yah!” She beamed, throwing her little hands in the air with a girly giggle.

“Alright, let’s go!” You nodded, a triumphant look on your face as you pulled out of the driveway.

The ride to Luigi’s wasn’t long. Unfortunately for you, the angels in heaven decided today would be the perfect day to breathe their frosted breaths down from the heavens, sending snowflakes down from the skies that would stick to the mortal-made machinery for days to come.

Icy slopes of slippery sleet clung to the streets, earning itself a few silent prayers while you navigated through the streets.

Each spark of strength from your tires was met with equal resistance from the frosty roads.

It was clear driving back from Luigi’s would be harder than you thought.

But there was no use in backing out now. After all, you were only ten minutes away from your ex-boyfriend's house. So you proceeded cautiously down the highway, silent prayers falling from your lips until you parked your car in front of the familiar humble abode.

“Alright, sweetie, let’s go see daddy! You got your bag?” You asked, unbuckling yourself to take a deep and self-soothing breath.

“YEAH!” She beamed, her little button nose all wrinkled with excitement as she bore her joy with all her facial muscles.

You chuckled, approaching the back of the car for the second time that day as you unpacked your wriggly toddler. She giggled, her little feet kicking back and forth as you lowered her to the powdery-white ground.

“Be careful, please. We don’t want you to fall!” You gasped, smiling down at your daughter as the white snow crunched under her lilac snow boots.

She giggled, throwing herself down on the snow as you unloaded her bags from the backseat. Her small arms picked up the bright white piles of frosty miracles, cold clouds, as she would call them.

”C’mon, sweetie,” you beckoned, kicking the car door closed with your rubber sole and trekking your way up to Luigi’s front porch after grabbing Adelina’s fur-adorned hand.

A few gentle knocks landed on the heavy oak door, the glossy black paint failing to conceal the beautiful pattern of the tree rings. Jet black with a gorgeous ivory lintel— a little extra for him— but perfect for his cute little family home.

“Mommy, I made a sn-no ball,” Addy said, her little hands showing you the little ball in the palms of her hands.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, sweetie! What are you gonna do with it? You gonna let daddy freeze it?” You asked, hiking the slipping baby bag back up your shoulder.

“No,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I wanna trow it at daddy!”

You chuckled, attempting to mask the sound with a poorly placed cough to discourage her menacing behavior. The little laugh fought back, clawing its way up and out of your throat as you set a hand on Addy’s head.

“Sweetie, that’s…that’s not very nice!” You murmured, taking a deep breath before the front door swung open.

There he stood, leaning forward a little before his legs aligned with his form. When he processed that his door was indeed open, his face shifted into an eager grin as he glanced between you and Adelina, ready to outstretch his arms and greet you both with happy—

Paff!

“Adelina Mangione!”

A big, teethy grin slowly broke out on Addy’s face. One that stretched from the beginnings of her little lips and rose to the crinkles of her eyes. She let loose a maniacal giggle after aiming the freezing snow directly at Luigi’s socks.

Instantly, Luigi’s eyes snapped shut in practiced control. The frosty substance melted into the black cotton, soaking his entire sock and ceasing his foot’s ability to move properly.

“That’s just cruel,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering open as he kneeled to be eye-level with his smug daughter.

“Addy, that wasn’t very nice,” He murmured, his tone deep and stern with the weight of a formal lecture. His voice thumped against your eardrum pleasantly, the bass of his tone reverberating from the depths of his lungs and teasing at your harping heartstrings.

“We don’t throw snow at people when they don’t have their cold clothes on. It can make them sick, and nobody wants to be sick, okay?” He said, holding her little hands between his pointer fingers and thumbs.

She pouted, her brows furrowing slightly as she nodded, giving a little “okay” in response.

“What do we say when we do something not nice?” He asked, tilting his head to the side with a tiny smile.

“Sorry, daddy.”

“Thank you, love bug. Now go inside, I don’t want you to get cold,” he chuckled, pinching her nose momentarily to earn a little giggle from the toddler.

No sooner than her mood lightened and her legs carried her inside, Luigi straightened his knees and brought his gaze over to you.

“Hey,” he smiled, immediately taking the bags off of your shoulders, his hands brushing over your shoulder. The contact felt more intimate than you’d like to admit, considering it was the most mundane form of touch you’ve probably ever experienced.

“Hey, Luigi,” you sighed, mirroring his prior gesture of straightening your posture and bringing your right arm to massage your left shoulder.

“How did you get here? It’s been snowing pretty bad…” he murmured, scanning the streets for any sign of footprints before his face immediately dropped upon seeing your car. “No way.”

“What?” You asked, whirling your torso around to face whatever seemed to alarm him.

“Why did you drive here? Actually, HOW did you drive here?” He asked, his brows shooting up in concern.

“I…got in the car and drove?” You murmured, your brows furrowing together like the answer was obvious as your thumb pointed in the direction of your car. Like he couldn’t already see it.

“Okay, first of all,” he began, gently placing a hand behind your back right in between either of your shoulders, and guiding you into his living room. “You could have died.”

“Second of all, it’s in the tens right now, and you’re standing in my house with jeans and a cropped sweater. Pneumonia isn’t merciful and she will take you with her, trust me, I know,” he lectured, glancing back and forth between your daughter and you.

How Adelina was bundled up was almost comical. There was no way she felt the temperature when she stood outside, decked out in her purple coat with white clouds, fuzzy black leggings, lavender boots, and fuzzy little pom-pom hat.

You on the other hand were dressed for a quick coffee run under central heat and warm lighting. Looking back, you thought it would be okay considering you would be in and out in less than thirty minutes.

But now that you stood in front of this man who seemed to have enough energy to discipline and correct anyone before him, you had to admit you felt a little silly.

He opened his mouth before instantly closing it and throwing his hands up weakly before they flapped down at his sides.

“I’ll deal with you later,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way over to Addy to rid her of the many insulated layers you had wrapped her in. He released her from her cozy shoes, her near-sweltering coat, the cute little hat on her head, and the polka dot mittens on her hands before she took off to run rampant in her playroom.

You made use of the presumably short time you had in his living room, leaning against the door with your phone in hand just to check the time.

“Why are you so close to the door? I’m not gonna kill you,” he chuckled, suddenly appearing in front of you with both hands on his hips with an amused smile.

“Oh I thought you wanted me to leave soon—“

“What? No, no no no no. You’re not leaving until the roads clear up a bit. I don’t want you getting hurt or in an accident, c’mon…” he murmured, punctuating his statement by lifting you by your knees and tossing you over his shoulder.

You yelped in shock, your hands immediately clutching at the back of his shirt for any sort of support even if feeble. Luigi chuckled, tossing you on the couch and wrapping you up with a fuzzy white blanket with pretty black snowflakes.

Once he rolled you up like a sushi roll, he crashed down on the couch next to you and stretched, the black cotton fabric of his sweatpants dipping just a tad. What a beautiful sight; his pretty white wifebeater hugging him so gently while he practically flaunted every hard-earned muscle he had.

“How was your day, hmm? Besides the fact that you literally almost died,” he chuckled, his arms draped around the back of the couch carelessly.

“I didn’t almost die,” you dismissed, a light giggle falling from your lips as you shifted on the couch to get comfortable. “And my day’s been pretty good…I was supposed to go home and watch a movie, but I’m here now.”

“You can do that here, though…with me,” he shrugged, tilting his head to the side like this was obvious information.

“Well I wanted to watch a movie in my bed,” you sighed, giving him a feigned eye roll before you slouched back on the couch, kicking your shoes off somewhere in his living room.

“Well you can watch a movie in my bed too,” he added, watching as Addy ran back and forth from the kitchen to her playroom, carrying a new box of snacks with each new trip.

As long as silence wasn’t the only noise that crept from out of that room, he was fine with whatever she did.

“Ew, gross, Luigi germs,” you joked, pretending to lean as far away from Luigi as possible.

He sucked his teeth, shaking his head in faux frustration before he raised a brow at you and poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek. The truth was, he had been wanting you in his bed for a while now, but you didn’t need to know that just yet.

“See now I see where Addy gets it from…your beef with me is literally hereditary” he sighed, shaking his head with a little pout.

“I know, she’s my mini-me,” you chuckled, gently unraveling yourself from your blanket to drape it around your shoulders. “I think I met my match, like, she’s just so much like me when she talks it’s crazy”

“Lina linguine!” He beamed, watching as she toddled into the room at the nickname she had been more than familiar with coming from her father.

“Hmm?” She hummed, her hand cupping the shell of her ears while the free one dragged along a large Snorlax plushie.

“What do you want for lunch, sweetie?” He asked before standing up and taking his usually large strides towards his kitchen, Addy following behind him with little steps of her own.

“Mommy, come on! We makin’ lunch!” She smiled, beckoning you towards her with her little hand.

You immediately got up to your feet, skipping over to your daughter and waltzing into the familiar kitchen with the white marbled counters and gold accent handles. It was clear your feminine touch had left the kitchen, leaving behind the ghost of a reminder in the form of a pink stand mixer with a strawberry shortcake sticker that stood out amongst the black-and-brown decor.

“Daddy, I wan’ noo-noos,” she stated, craning her head up to look at him as she attempted to see over the kitchen counter.

“Noodles? Okay honey, what kind?” He asked, his hip resting against the counter as he looked.

“ba-skeddi,” she murmured, holding onto his pants leg with a full grip. How Italian.

“Alright I’ll make you some spaghetti,” he said, the laugh he was fighting struggling for dominance on his face as Addy toddled back off into her playroom.

No sooner than Addy left the kitchen did Luigi pull out a mini pot and some star-shaped pasta, adding water and salt and letting it boil.

“Now what do you want, my queen,” he joked, putting a hand over his chest and pretending to bow.

“Stop it!” You laughed, whacking him on the shoulder as he straightened back up again with a rugged laugh.

“I’m not really hungry, I’ll just eat when I get home” you shrugged while playing around with your phone, leaning your upper body against the cold marble countertop.

He sighed, rolling his eyes before he walked past you to access the silvery fridge. But, not before he landed a heavy smack on your ass.

“LUIGI!” You gasped, your hand coming to rest on top of the spot he hit.

“See, I was gonna make pasta anyway, so you can have pasta too…how do you feel about Alfredo with broccoli?” He chuckled as he avoided turning around.

He could almost feel and taste the expression you wore; your jaw slack with shock and your pretty brows furrowed in a mixture of disbelief and scandalization. His tongue came between his teeth and peeked out from his smile, a flash of the teenage boy you once fell head-over-heels for in high school.

“Luigi, don’t play with me, what was that?” You laughed, leaning against the counter now instead of on top of it.

“You said you want Alfredo? I got you, don’t worry,” he dismissed, pulling out heavy cream parmesan cheese, fettuccine noodles, broccolini, and an abundance of alternate ingredients that he would end up throwing in a pot or pan sooner or later.

“Luigi!”

“Yes, baby?”

You stared at him, your arms folded and your head tilted to the side In feigned indifference. He mirrored your body language, throwing his hip out to the side and folding his arms across his broad chest before cocking his head to the side as well.

“Don’t get beside yourself, we’re co-parenting,” you enunciated, shaking your head in disbelief.

There was no real bite to your tone…Luigi could tell. The cold and frost to your tone melted the moment he pulled you through his door to shield you from the winter woes of the rocky roads and the icy exhalation from the angels.

Even as you stood in front of him in his kitchen, he knew exactly what that eyebrow meant when it raised at that exact angle. He’s corrected your attitude many times before and was more than willing to do it again if you’d let him.

He smirked, a smug and knowing grin spreading across his face as he reached around you to slide a cutting board over the smooth surface. His hands were heavy as he focused his attention on dicing up the garlic beneath his knuckles and knife.

“Don’t lie to yourself, it’s not good for you” he said, sliding his minced garlic to the side and dicing up his parsley and herbs. The hollow chok-chok-chok filled the momentary silence between the two of you as you watched his hands make easy work of cutting up his veggies.

“Ah, fuck…can you grab the butter from the fridge, please? I love you,” Luigi asked, looking over his shoulder.

You side-eyed him, cutting your eyes at his audacity but waltzing over to the fridge and swinging it open nonetheless, passing him the fat stick of pale yellow butter with a low hum.

“Thank you!” He beamed, brushing his hand against yours.

Again, the warmth of his body heat sent sparks and shivers shooting down your spine despite the casual nature of his presence. Touch-starved was a bit of an understatement, considering the last time you had had any intimacy was over two years ago, plus the nine that you carried your daughter.

Almost three years of celibacy and every bone in your body yearned to break that god-awful streak. You took a deep breath, the oxygen flowing in through your nostrils and exiting your dry mouth as carbon.

You leaned on his shoulder, the fat of your cheeks mashing against the firm structure of the top of his deltoid muscle as your half-glazed eyes mulled over every action his hands made.

You had always loved them. Decorated with three bluish-green veins that led down his wrist, soft with years of baby lotion he learned to slather on an ashy baby, and strong with experience in several forms of combat, his hands had always been the prettiest perfect necklace to wrap around the column of your throat.

The breakup between you wasn’t particularly terrible if you were willing to stand in his kitchen and lean your head on his shoulder, but it wasn’t civil enough for you to let him grope at and flirt with you without at least somewhat of a consequence. It was pretty funny considering you couldn’t yell due to the baby being asleep just one room over, so you had a very quiet argument over time management and Luigi not making enough time for his family.

But those days were behind you. After you walked out the door with your daughter wrapped up in her swaddle, something in Luigi’s brain shifted. He couldn’t explain it if he tried, but suddenly he felt like he didn’t want to work anymore.

If it took getting on both knees and placing his palms flat on the ground— he would. If all it took was begging on hands and knees for you to grant him forgiveness, he would do it with an empty mind and a full heart.

He placed a large chunk of butter in a black skillet, along with his garlic and some of the herbs from earlier. He didn’t want to move around too much out of fear you’d come to your senses and stop leaning on his shoulder.

“Who taught you how to make Alfredo?” You asked, the pad of your pointer finger moving with its consciousness as it came to trace the squishy trail of the veins in his hand.

“My mom used to teach me but I wasn’t really paying attention. So now TikTok,” he smiled, looking down at you with his beady black eyes.

“See I could’ve taught you that,” you sighed, shaking your head with false resignation.

“Shush,” he joked, wrapping a hand around your hip before he leaned over to grab the now boiling mini-pot of water, filling it up with the star-shaped pasta. Now that you had a closer look at the bag, it turned out that the contents were star and moon-shaped pasta.

He poured the dried planets into the foggy, bubbling waters, stirring everything momentarily before putting it back on the stove. Once his garlic was sautéed and the kitchen smelled like domesticity, he added what he felt was enough heavy cream, followed by a nice portion of parmesan.

He stirred everything together with his wooden spatula before adding the sparks of chopped greenery along with salt and black pepper. A simple Alfredo sauce that he’d mix in with some fettuccine that he would inevitably devour with sharp teeth and a pointed tongue that’d glide across his porcelain plate.

The thought was enough to make you shudder. Time and mind seemed to taunt your thoughts, burning hot kisses from Eros trailing down the ridges of your brain down to the core of your soul.

You spent the evening watching him cook in the kitchen, occasional pink and passionate passes passing back and forth between the pair of you. Rogue “I love you’s” flew through the room like dainty doves that had been freed from the golden bars of their cages.

Luigi had since given Adelina her noodles, buttered with salt and parsley, the only way she would consume her pasta of astrology. By now the sky was a dull navy, the final straggling streaks of deep mauve kissing their goodbyes to the sky as they got ready to turn in for the night.

Seven-thirty in the evening, gathered at a cute little dining table with your ex-boyfriend and his near-identical twin. Addy babbled and gabbled about the little tea party she had with her “coworkers”, her stuffed animals, and Pokemon figures, and explained how Luigi missed a very important meeting and that she had fired him for doing so.

He gasped, his fork cluttering down on his plate as he covered his hands with his mouth.

“Addy! Addy no, I’ll go broke and then I’ll starve! Don’t be a capitalist, Lina, I have a family too!” He gasped, pretending to cry as he carded his hands through his hair.

“I have a beautiful wife and a baby girl!” He sobbed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders unexpectedly. You dropped your fork on the table as well, the sudden action causing an amused yelp to flee from your lips.

“Ms. Mangione, please! We won’t eat if you fire him!” You sobbed, placing a hand over one of Luigi’s biceps.

“Nnnnno!” She giggled, her little face glowing with joy from her parents playing along with her bossy little antics. “Fire! No more Daddy!”

Luigi made a show of pretending to fall out of his chair, writhing around on the floor while clutching his stomach and feigning hunger. You had to admit, his theatrics managed to tickle your lungs until you ended up giggling alongside Addy as he “died” on his dining room floor with a final weak sigh.

“That’s why you don’t trust CEO’s, Lina. They’ll make you starve and die,” he explained, pulling himself back up to his feet. “And now, it’s time for you— to go to sleep!”

She groaned, surprisingly loud and incredibly drawn out as Luigi finished the rest of his food, his tongue gliding across the white porcelain before it clattered back down on the table. To avoid getting a headache between your legs, you peered out the window to see if the weather had gotten any better.

Much to your surprise, it was snowing again. Amazing.

“I wan’say nigh-nigh mommy…” Addy pouted, her upper lip mere centimeters away from kissing the top of her nose as her arms crossed over her chest.

“You can still say goodnight to mommy! She’s right there, look,” he smiled, pointing at you briefly as he scooped her up out of her high chair.

She waved at you as she rubbed her left eye, a little “g’nigh, mommy…”

“Goodnight, my love. If you go to sleep now, Daddy will take you to the playground tomorrow and then you can play all day,” you smiled, pinching her little chubby cheeks between your pointer and thumb.

She nodded, the little furrow in her thick brows straightening only slightly. You could hear her fuss and fight as Luigi made his way upstairs to put her in bed.

You finished your food after the pair of them had gone upstairs, grabbing the remaining dishes from the table and putting them in the sink. You doused them with hot water, the steam wafting from the scalding water standing unrivaled from the fog that clouded your head.

Such a pretty man with an even prettier way of articulating his words. There was no room for confusion or misunderstanding with his firm and deepened tone…god his voice was hot when he used to talk you thr—

“Oh thank you, baby, you didn’t have to do that,” Luigi said, his hands resting on the kitchen counter on opposite sides of your body.

Behind you, and close. You could feel the bass of his voice strumming from the back of his throat as his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

“You’re welcome!” You smiled, placing your hand over Luigi’s as his hand found your hip in a self-soothing hold. The hot water cleaned the dishes and silverware free of any remaining food and debris, ridding it of sin before you tossed each component into the dishwasher to be properly sanitized.

There was silence after you closed the dishwasher door, heavy and thick as Luigi’s arms wrapped around your shoulders while you fidgeted with the unfamiliar buttons on the dash.

“It’s this one,” he purred, his thumb pressing the plastic button that prompted the dishwasher to click and lock.

Now it was your turn to be thankful. You craned your head up, meeting Luigi’s small smile that features the crinkles in the corners of his eyes.

“Thank you, Luigi,” you mused, your hands coming to rest on his forearms that wrapped around your neckline.

He nodded, his eyes hyper-fixating on your pretty features like this would be the only time he’d get to see them up close. Somehow and some way, something at the back of his mind told him this wasn’t the case anymore.

“Movie?” You offered a short question aiming to cut through the oddly intimate silence between the two of you.

“Sure,” he nods, his arms unraveling from around your neck before they scoop you up by the back of your knees and flip you back into his arms. Bridal style, just like how he planned to carry you someday.

He waltzed over to the couch, pretending to prepare his throw you down onto the scratchy linen before hitting the most abrupt turn you’ve ever seen him make in his life, heading in the direction of the stairs with a giggle.

“On second thought, I wanna watch TV in my room,” he smirked, carrying you up the flight of stairs to his characteristically minimalist bedroom.

“See now you’re just getting beside yourself…” you sighed, but letting him toss you on his bed nonetheless.

“I won’t, I swear…” he sighed, tossing you down on his bed before fetching his remote from the bedside table.

“What did you say you wanted to watch earlier? Did you say what you wanted to watch earlier?” He asked, rolling onto his king-sized bed.

The ivory sheets dipped under his body weight, the memory foam accommodating your memory once again on your side of the bed as you shuffled into familiarity.

“I don’t know, actually, what do you wanna watch?” You asked, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your sweater absentmindedly.

“Uh…” He buffered, his mind completely blank for a moment.

“Oh, right,” you chuckled, tapping your forehead. “You don’t really watch TV like that, I forgot.”

He nodded, staring at your outdoor clothes on his bed with a confused crinkle in his brows. He tilted his head to the side, scanning you up and down like he was almost offended by you still wearing your sweltering jeans and cashmere sweater.

“I have some clothes in my closet if you want to change…you know where everything is already, I think,” he said, powering on his TV with a click of the silicone red button on the remote.

“Actually yeah, sleeping in jeans sounds crazy…” you nodded, rolling out of his cozy comforter and making your way to his closet.

You rummaged through each cotton or nylon article of clothing, the occasional linen or silk brushing your fingertips until you weeded through to find a baggy shirt and a pair of your old shorts that you found in the depths of his drawer. Black with a pretty white drawstring, and slightly ripped at the left leg from Luigi’s habit of impatience.

You slipped away to the bathroom, tugging off your top and bottoms with a silent sigh of satisfaction as you slipped into the soft material of Luigi’s shirt and the comfort of a waistband that wasn’t digging into your midriff.

His bathroom was the same as you remember it being, with the addition of a little pink toothbrush he kept for Addy next to his big blue one. Contrary to his kitchen, there was a presence of a feminine life that decorated the bathtub in the form of Disney Princess bubbles, a plastic tiara, and an Aurora Barbie doll. Cute.

You emerged with your clothes folded over your arm, placing your outfit down on his sleek black dresser and smoothing the fabric over before climbing back in bed beside Luigi. He threw a lazy arm over your shoulder as your leg came up over his, tangling your limbs together like life hit the resume button from where you had left off two years ago.

“I think we should watch Finding Nemo…” He chuckled, immediately booting up Disney Plus without missing a beat.

“Luigi, we're twenty-five.” You deadpanned.

“So?” He chuckled, flipping through the options before ultimately hitting the back button.

“American psycho?” He offered, looking over at you with a tiny smile.

“Absolutely not. How about Coraline?” You smiled.

“We’re twenty-five!” He whined, mocking your tone by putting on a high and effeminate voice with a scrunched-up expression.

“Fine,” you sighed, pressing a hand over his mouth with feigned annoyance. “Midsommar?”

“Never heard of it…” he hummed, typing in the movie name as ‘Midsummer’ and jumping subtly when he heard you gasp like the wind had been knocked out of you.

“You’ve never seen midsommar!?” You asked, your hands resting on his broad chest in shock.

“I don’t really watch movies like that…” he chuckled, the intro to Midsommar filling the room as he turned the volume down a bit to be mindful of Adelina’s room just two doors down.

“Right,” you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his bicep with a light chuckle.

You watched most of the movie in comfortable silence, his large hand shifting down to hold the back of your thigh as it rested between his knees, the cap nestled just at his belly button underneath his white tank. The rise and fall of your chest spurred something deep within him, especially with your concealed silhouette just beyond his grasp as you wore his shirt that seemed to swallow you whole.

The fiery heat from your body should be comforting, but all he could feel was a nuisance every time a wave of red-hot body temperature ran over him and sent flashes of heat down to his slowly hardening bulge. The hand that held your thigh began to slowly caress your skin, his rough feather-light and teasing as he kept his eyes glued to the screen.

You weren’t stupid— after dating Luigi for years, you knew he knew how to push your buttons and just what to do to elicit a certain response. There was no mistaking the embers and sparks from his palm as his hand rubbed your sensitive skin.

So you let it happen, allowing his hand to gradually get higher and higher until he reached the edge of your shorts, his knuckles brushing the edge of the cotton fabric.

“I know what you’re doing, Luigi,” you whispered, keeping your eyes trained in front of you as you attempted to keep your attention on the movie.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about…” he murmured, his hand snaking down your shorts to play with your sensitive clit through the fabric of your panties.

Normally he wouldn’t be this forward or bold…he’s seen you for two years straight after the breakup, and he’s been just as aroused by your presence before. But seeing you in his clothes and his bed ripped a fresh coat of red ravenous arousal from his brain.

Hungry and heated like a wolf preying on the willingness of a meek little bunny to stay put. How much time until you start squirming away for freedom? Would you push his hand away weakly and complain about the status quo— or are you aware of the hunter behind you and are content with the fate that you’ll meet in his sheets?

You whined at his fingers toying with your sensitive pearl, a wave of wetness beginning to soak the fabric of your panties as the already thin material became damp and cold as it stuck to your plush lips. Your leg shifted off of his lap, a weak and half-hearted attempt to clamp your thighs together in a last-ditch effort to quell the whines and moans that threatened to bubble to the surface.

“No, don’t do that,” Luigi huffed, pulling you into his lap and hooking one of your legs over his. “Don’t start being a brat now, take these off.”

You moaned, letting him pull your shorts off of you and wrapping a hand around his forearm before he threw them somewhere around the room where you knew you’d discover them again in two years.

“Is this okay?” He asked, his large hand stopping just below your navel to rub gentle circles over the soft skin.

“Yeah, it’s fine, just keep going please…” you panted, the buzzing of the RGB TV fading to the back of your mind as your consciousness focused on the slow pace at which Luigi’s fingers pushed themselves into your glossy and slippery cunt.

There was a natural resistance that came with almost two years of celibacy, but you’d be lying if you said your body wasn’t also sucking in the familiarity of your ex-boyfriend at the same time. The stretch was distantly familiar, like a warm face you’d make a frantic attempt to replicate inside a dream in hopes of seeing them again.

Foggy with lust and hot with desperation, his free hand came up to your face, squeezing your cheeks together between his prime four and thumb until the skeleton of your teeth began to resist his advancement. “Watch your movie…you wanted to see it so bad,” he purred.

He kept your eyes trained on the large flatscreen all the while his fingers pumped in and out of you at a steadily increasing pace. The sounds were sinful; gross and sloppy sloshing noises added their own soundtrack to Luigi’s bedroom as your whines and moans grew louder in volume.

Each time his fingers pulled out of you they appeared glossier— like a lip gloss fanatic caking her lips in the glittery and distantly white oils in a glamorous frenzy. The shinier Luigi’s middle and ring fingers got, the closer he watched the scene below as you wet him down to the knuckle.

“You gotta be quiet…you’ll wake the baby,” he chuckled, the hand that kept your eyes on the screen traveling to fold over your mouth.

You nodded, moans clawing their way up your throat and fleeing from the fleshy gateway into the captivity of Luigi’s hand. At this point his hand began bullying that spongy spot inside of you, the pads of his fingers confronting your orgasm head-on as he worked his hands into an almost painful wrist cramp.

Your body stilled as you cried into his palm, tears of long-forgotten ecstasy brimming in your eyes as he shoved you into an orgasm. Your walls fluttered and clenched around him, coating his fingers in a pretty pearly white as he smirked at the muffled string of curses that charged from your mouth.

“There you go…good girl,” he purred, continuing his relentless assault on your cunt with his fingers. “You can give me one more…It’s been too long, I need to feel you” he purred as the near-painful bite of overstimulation gnawed at your flesh.

“It’s okay,” he hummed, watching as your legs shook and threatened to kick from the speed at which his fingers thrust in and out of you. “You can take it.”

His thumb drew tight and gentle circles over your clit, his hand moving over your stomach to hold you in place as your back arched away from his broad chest. Your heartbeat throbbed in your ears as the white blinding veil of euphoria rendered you blind, and keeping yourself quiet was becoming more and more of a struggle.

The screen had long since lost your attention, your tear-filled eyes now focusing on your achy and abused cunt drowning in the euphoria his fingers gave you. It borderlined on being too much— your mind felt like a thousand butterflies swarmed your senses and blocked the receptors in your brain that made you form a sentence.

“Move your hand,” he whispered.

You hadn’t even realized it, but your limp and shaky hand had grabbed at his wrist in a feeble effort to save yourself from his restless hyper-fixating on your pleasure.

“I ca—…can’t ta-ha-ake it..!” You whined, fighting against the strength of a man gone ravenous— feeding off of your moans like sweet nectar from a fresh honeysuckle.

“Oh, well then I’ll make you take something bigger,” he snarled, pulling you up further on his lap so he could pull his sweatpants and grey Calvin Klein boxers down.

His grapefruit pink tip sprung free, the beaded dribbles of salty precum a sinful testimony to how worked up he had been for the past twenty minutes.

“I’m sorry,” he purred into your neck, kissing up and down your jugular, slowly sinking you onto his girthy length with a hypocritically loud grunt of his own.

Your broken moans charged out in the form of barely concealed cries and whines, whispers of profanities ghosting your tongue as they greeted the world with every breath you took. You forgot how massive he was, the bulge that taunted your womb twitching and spasming between your walls with searing anger.

“I’m gonna give you another baby if you keep squeezing me like this…god—“ he rasped, gripping your flesh with a hold that would leave ripe bruises in his wake by morning.

“Please…!” You squealed, holding onto his forearm as he brought your hips up and down on his fat dick.

You weren’t even sure of what you were asking for at this point, much too focused on the feeling of his pretty shaft making your body go numb and tingly with pleasure. The squelches and quiet whimpers from both you and Luigi bounced off of the walls, filling the crazed man’s head with impurities and temptations that only led to him panting harder in your ear.

Both of his arms wrapped securely around your navel, his treatment of you akin to that of a man’s reckless pursuit of some Amazon silicone doll that he unearthed to relieve the tension in his mind every few hours. His fingers pressed into the opposite sides of your hips, forcing you down with such intensity that you were surprised he wasn’t breaking your bones.

He was everywhere; your ear, your neck, your midriff, your cervix, and your mind as his pants and whines grew gruff and heavy. There was minimal chatter, after all, have you ever heard a beast talk to another while desperately rutting into them?

Your eyes inevitably crossed together before they traveled to the back of your skull. Drool fell from your slightly parted mouth, dribbling down your chin and traveling to the black fabric of Luigi’s oversized shirt.

He quite literally fucked you dumb— if anyone were to call and ask you a question, all that would break free was whiny gargles and choked-up sounds, and if they were lucky maybe a syllable.

You wanted to warn him that you were close, but he could already tell from how your gummy and warm walls began to spasm and flutter around him. Following this immediate realization, his left arm untangled itself from around your waist and found purchase on your throat to squeeze its column.

It was shortly after his little air-restricting stunt that you found yourself tensing up again, seizing and shivering as Luigi’s hand clasped over your mouth to silence the loud and teary moan that he knew you would release in that moment. If you were in your right mind you never would’ve been that loud, so you gave props to Luigi for catching your mistake.

Now it was Luigi’s turn to lock up, a deep and guttural moan fleeing from his throat that was a lot less loud compared to what you would have unleashed. He painted your insides white, thick, and hot ropes of ghostly white release that he prayed deep down would pollinate the depths of your womb.

“Fuck,” he panted, rubbing his hands over your hips to soothe the bruises he’d gifted you with. “I love you, you’re so fucking pretty…”

You hummed, the sound high and drawn out as he kept himself nestled deep in your guts. He didn’t exactly expect you to respond after snatching your right mind right out of your brain, so all he did was let out a deep chuckle.

“Goodnight, babe.”

#luigi mangione thoughts #i love this sm

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