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taelophone · 1 day ago

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Where Is He? ♱ ⋆˙⟡ — Luigi Mangione x Reader ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ TWs: BLASPHEMY. Corruption kink . Improper use of a Rosary . Loss of Virginity . Tech Bro-ish Luigi . Dumbification . Reader is naïve . Coercion . Dark "undertones" but not really . Biblical imagery (duh) . Animal/Flower symbolism . Choking . Luigi's a liiiiitle mean . my grammarly dyed while making this so there may be spelling errors

Let's all raise a glass to @cranberrydietcoke for this wonderful idea <3

Respect was something that was taught in your house day after day.

It’s something you were expected to give to those around you: your elders, family members, strangers, anyone. The words “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” rang through your head for as long as you could remember.

Your friends always described you as expressive and generous, your kind and giving nature charmed the hearts of many. You were a sweetheart! A real angel.

The golden cross between your collarbones twinkled and glimmered under the sunlight, your white and blue sneakers scrunching and folding the crisp autumn leaves beneath you.

The sun beamed down on you, rays of warmth highlighting your skin as you made your way to pay your friend, Luigi, a visit. By now, he was probably locked up in the lab, pushing his spine to its natural limit as he folded over some laptop.

The plan was to give him some water, words of encouragement, and have a nice little chat before leaving to run some errands. And you were going to do just that!

You tugged your tote bag further up your shoulder, preventing the irritating strap from slipping further before pushing the double doors to Levine Hall open.

There was a loud clock-clock-clock as the soles of your sneakers tapped against the tile floors, the little charms and trinkets on your bag generating quiet clinking sounds as you walked.

You rounded the corner, making your way into the building's computer science and engineering part with a pep in your step. You waved at some of your passing acquaintances, offering warm smiles and good mornings to each familiar face.

“Luuu!” You called, approaching the table at the far back of the room. And there he was, strong and burly, as he whirled his head around to the familiar mellifluous hymn.

“Hey! What’s up!” He beamed, immediately scooting his chair back and tearing his focus away from the fat and boxy Dell computer in front of him.

“Hi!” You chirped, beaming brightly at Luigi, gravitating towards him immediately to give him a brief side hug. “I brought you some water and some chips!”

You pulled the two items out of your tote bag, handing them each to him gently with a soft smile.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet,” he beamed, graciously accepting your offerings and setting them down on his desk.

“How’s your day been?” He asked, cracking open his bottle of water with a small plastic crack, chugging it quickly as he crunched the water bottle in his hand.

“Well,” you began, pushing the image of his Adam’s apple bobbing as soon as he drank his water to the back of your head. “I started today with my daily bread, and then I got in the shower to try this new philosophy body wash I bought, had an abysmal breakfast, and then made my way here!”

He smiled, chuckling boyishly at your summarized morning. He nodded, typing up nonsense on his computer.

You leaned over his shoulder, your chin hovering just above his trapezius as you read over the code.

“Interesting…” you murmured, your brows pinching together with confusion.

He chuckled, shaking his head subtly. “It’s ok I barely understand this shit either,” he said.

“But it’s your job…yeah, okay,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes with the ghost of a smirk present on your features.

“That doesn’t mean I get it, though,” he joked, taking his hands off the keyboard and crossing them over his chest. His biceps flexed, the subtle pull of his veins gracing your very eyes as you straightened your posture once again.

“Whatever, man. I have errands to run,” you giggled, checking the time on your phone before tucking it back in your back pocket. “You should stop by later! Tell me more about your robot stuff. I’ve got like…ice cream and graham crackers.”

He smiled, piecing together his thought process once again as he went back to work. “Yeah, sure. I’ll come by at like five, five-thirty,” he said, punctuating his acceptance with a light nod.

You beamed, returning his words with a quiet “Great!” before saying your goodbyes and toddling off to complete the rest of your morning.

You spent the next 4 hours outside, running across Philadelphia to do ridiculous amounts of favors and errands.

Helping at the local church to prep for Sunday service, fixing around at a community soup kitchen, paperwork at city hall, and a lot of window shopping as you shredded the streets with gentle hands.

You were tired, to say the least.

After hour 2 of listening to the old pastor drawl on about his plans and wisdom of the week, your eyes stung with feather-light fatigue.

You sat on the bench, your knees pressed to your chest as you stared half-heartedly into the man’s obsidian eyes.

“Oh, my goodness!” He interrupted, getting a good look at the clock that lay tick-tick-tocking at the back of the room. “Look at the time! Thank you for helping me, young lady, but I gotta go and pick up my wife,” he said, wrapping his watch around his wrist.

You returned his smile, instantly unraveling your arms from around your knees. You went to leave, but you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and a spark of what could only be described as an electric shock fizzling in your mind.

“The lord has asked me to tell you to be careful. Take care of yourself, baby,” He pleaded, a warm and sympathetic smile spreading across his bronze face, aged with the bitter salts of time and experience.

You stood still, time leaving you at once as your heart palpitated momentarily.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

“I will. Thank you, Pastor Greene.” you nodded, ignoring the slight unease that engulfed your heart before exiting the church.

You stepped back into the warm white sunlight, the refreshing breeze rejuvenating your lungs as you took a deep breath. What was that even about?

You headed back home; quick to go pray away any negative energy and lay in your bed for the next 3 hours or so. And as soon as your feet planted on the wooden planks of your living room, you were eager to shower and face the Father once more.

You skipped to your bathroom, ridding yourself of the white turtleneck and baby-blue jeans. The shower fogged, condensation dribbling down the warmed glass.

The shower grew extremely blurred as thoughts poured down your mind, the scalding hot sin clouding your thoughts as you thought of his strong arms, the flex of his biceps, his God-given Adam’s Apple and the way it moved with his water—

You were getting sidetracked. It’s time to get out of the shower.

With a sigh, your eyes widened in shock at your own suddenly filthy mind. You tugged on your plush and grey bathrobe before scurrying away from the bathroom as quickly as you followed in.

You got your things situated on your vanity: your lotion, your bible, your skincare, and the little bread-shaped card holder that held little cards of your daily bread.

Your soft and gentle hands slathered your tacky skin in the buttery soft lotion, vanilla innocence and almond milk painting your angelic skin.

The extra sheen of sparkle the lotion gave you before putting on your pajamas, a freshly washed matching black tank top, and black sleep shorts. You tugged on the white drawstring, tying it in a tight knot and securing it around your hips.

With your pajamas on, your skin hydrated, and your mind cleared, you kneeled at your bedside. You found your rosary on the edge of your bed frame, the light wooden beads dangling the silver cross as you wrapped the sacred pearls around your fingers.

Your hands intertwined in prayer as murmurs left your sweet lips with your eyes fluttered shut.

Everywhere I walk, let it be on your path. Everything I see, let it be through your eyes. Everything I do, let it be your will. For every hardship I face, let me place it in your hands.

The incantations left your mouth like second nature, light and positive love flowing through your veins as you kept your head up high to your Savior.

When you rose from your kneeled position, the first thing you did was pull your pink-covered and annotated Bible in your lap. You plucked the rose-tinted highlighter from between the pages, scanning over the scriptures in silent wonder.

You hummed to yourself, lying flat on your stomach and slipping out of this world and into the next. Peace was growing increasingly rare in the world, and you were lucky to find it in moments like these.

That is until your phone dinged loudly.

You sighed, picking up your phone and flipping the screen to reveal Luigi’s text. He was five minutes away.

You smiled, hearting the message before placing your highlighter in between the thin pages. You popped up from your bed, throwing on your house slippers.

You toddled downstairs, making your way to the kitchen just to set out a tub of ice cream from the arctic depths of your deep freezer, hoping it softened slightly before his arrival.

You sliced up some lemon to throw in your almost iced pitcher of water from the fridge, the fogged condensation dampening your knuckles as they brushed against the body while you held the handle.

You grabbed the box of scarcely touched graham crackers, setting them next to the tub of ice cream. With everything ready, you snapped a pic of the little spread, giggling quietly to yourself before sending the pic to Luigi.

The living room was perfectly tidy, with vibrant orange flames of Macintosh Spice burning to fill the room with comfort. You stared at the portrait of Father God on the wall, meeting His eyes with humility and love before the doorbell chimed.

“Lu!” You smiled, immediately swinging open the door to reveal Luigi in his tech-bro glory. Both arms wrapped around his larger torso, pulling him in a brief, but squeeze-y hug.

“Hey,” he chuckled, stepping into your cozy and…unsurprisingly pure home. He took in his surroundings at once; the cross above the door, the picture of god on the wall, the pink and fuzzy throw blanket, and the little display case of cute Funko pops.

“Oh, that's so cool!” He gasped, gravitating towards the glassy shelf and staring at the vinyl figures. Thumper, Bambi, Stitch, Chip, Winnie the Pooh, and many more cutesy displayed figures. “You collect these?”

“Sometimes,” you nodded, crouching down next to him. I like buying the cute ones just to display,” you explained, watching him smile and giggle at the Kirby POP, snickering at how he was just a pink blob with tiny hot pink nubs.

He stood back up, gathering himself once again before sighing. “How were your errands? You said you were gonna run some today right?” He asked, crashing down on your couch with a light plop.

“I did!” You said, fetching the ice cream and graham crackers from the kitchen, and sitting them down on the beige coffee table. “I helped out Pastor Greene at the church this morning, organized some of his paperwork, helped him pick an outfit, helped decorate for Sunday’s service, helped finish some of his unfinished paperwork…I did a lot actually…”

Luigi’s brows raised slightly with an unidentifiable emotion. In a way it resembled pity, but also cocky superiority as if you were doing something…wrong?

“That’s a lot of free labor,” He joked, shooting you a sly smirk as he ate a piece of graham cracker.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You chuckled. Breathy and forced with a raise of a brow as your mind tried to pick apart what he was getting at. Sure, you had your ways and blocks, but you weren’t stupid. “Don’t you do community service too?”

“I do,” he nodded. But I don’t think anything you did besides decorating for Sunday counts as community service. Pastor Greene's service, maybe, but it seems like you just helped him avoid doing the work he’s supposed to do as the pastor.”

You paused, replaying his words over again in your mind. Your spoon dragged through the slightly softened ice cream, the cold heaven deforming from its neat and perfect scoop.

“I don’t think so…” you said, tilting your head slightly. “I think it still counts as community service. Even if he is using me for personal gain, I’d still be helping someone in need, which is fine by me,” You justified.

“That’s cute,” he smiled, the sudden patronization and smug tone caught you a little off guard. He was normally a charming and polite man…but you were more than willing to look past it. After all, he was just concerned about your well-being. It was very thoughtful of him to take this level of care.

You nodded hesitantly, the confusion evident in your brows as they furrowed slightly. “Tell me about your robot thing! How’s it coming along?” You asked, eager to shake the festering feeling of doubt that began to gnaw at the back of your neck.

Luigi sat up a little more correctly this time, actually placing his feet on the ground and leaning back against the backrest of the couch. His hips came up a little, adjusting his position on the couch. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“It’s coming along great, actually,” he said, scanning over you closely. “I’ve been so stressed but I’m finally getting my shit together. Had to lock in.”

The pair of you chuckled together, chattering about different forms of data and computer science. He spoke in such a firm and confident tone. He wasn’t loud, but he wasn’t quiet. There was a thick layer of child-like wonder in his words as he mansplained robotics.

And you clung on to every single word he had to say. It was nice to see him light up, gesture wildly with his hands, and eagerly describe what was essentially a grueling process of inspiration to intellectual burnout over and over again. But he made it seem so fun!

You nodded, leaning back and adjusting your sitting before feeling a sharp pointed thing poke into the back of your leg.

“Ouch…” You whispered, furrowing your brows and pulling your rosary out of your shorts back pocket. “Oops…I forgot I had this,” you chuckled breathily, wrapping your rosary around your wrist and hoping you didn't throw him off from talking about his interests.

“That's pretty,” He said, staring at the prayer beads with a new glint in his eye as he reached out to examine the cross that dangled from your fingers. Sleek, shiny, and smooth wood met the pads of his fingers as you let him mindlessly fidget with the pearls of the Lord. He seemed fascinated by them like they were the most foreign thing he’d ever seen.

“I’ve never been Christian,” He started, slowly untangling the beads from your hands and placing the rosary on the coffee table. “It’s kind of a creepy concept when you think about it…believing in a made-up man with no evidence but word of mouth and a man-made book that's been translated over and over again.”

You scoffed, shaking your head at his statement before waving him off.

“Science and theory are the exact same. Trusting the words of a bunch of men in coats because someone told you their ideas were right. At least with God, it’s way more simple” You said, poking at your ice cream with your spoon.

“Oh, honey…” He chuckled quietly. “Christianity is simple in a way that prevents you from living. Plus you can’t prove god is real. Science is complex because it's been proved by years of natural demonstration. You being alive to even preach the word of god is proof enough.”

Taken aback by his forward and patronizing tone, your head cocked back subtly before you gave Luigi a light chuckle. “My faith doesn’t prevent me from living…” You murmured, crossing your arms over your chest.

In his eyes, you looked like a white lily; perfect petals and dainty little buds blossoming from the soul. Like freshly plucked notes of a harp, you sat in front of him an angel on earth. He wasn’t religious, after all, religion was a vastly misinterpreted and discredited term for people to justify impressing their wrongdoing upon others. A safe haven to “turn to” when man made a mistake, seeking refuge in the all-forgiving hands of Jesus Christ.

“Come here,” he prompted, gesturing his hands toward him loosely.

You paused, raising a brow at him in silent confusion. You crawled closer to him, still staying a comfortable distance away from him to leave some space for Christ.

“See?” he pointed out, his giddy words dripping with thick condensation. “You can’t even get close to me.”

“I can,” you corrected. “But I don’t like sitting particularly close to people because it invites room for lust. It’s not good for you” you recited, almost like the words were engraved on the base of your brain.

“Proving my point” He chuckled, giving you the most cocky and smug grin you’ve ever seen him don.

You sighed, quickly weighing out the pros and cons of getting closer to Luigi. He was a nice guy, for sure, and he’d never do anything without your explicit permission. After all, God is faithful and will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear.

“That wasn’t so bad, see? Be careful!” He joked, holding back boyish giggles. “God’s watching!”

You chuckled, albeit involuntarily as he not-so-subtly poked fun at your devotion.

“Alright, not too much now” you snickered, trying to ignore how your mind and soul buzzed with a sudden unidentifiable thirst. His voice was low, an aura of deep temptation emitting from him in the form of bodily heat.

His sharp and wolfish eyes met yours, the warm and endless portals of black sucked you in within an inch of your life. Falling through the rabbit hole like a dumb bunny that didn’t look while they ran.

“What's wrong?” He asked, noticing the way your lamb-like eyes widened ever so slightly. He placed a firm and heavy hand on your thigh, the skin-to-skin contact burning you alive as you fought for your sanity.

There was no way in the world he wasn’t messing with you. He had to be. You scanned his face, searching for any sign of malice or harmful intent, but all you came up with was his gorgeously sculpted features and head of wooly brown curls.

“I’m fine, yeah,” You nodded, clearing your throat as he slowly began to pull you in his lap. Slow and deliberate, like an apex sneaking up on their next feast. His hands gradually came to rest on the back of your thighs as he positioned both of your legs on top of his slowly.

“You sure? You seem tense,” he teased, his strong and firm hands now kneading the supple flesh on your legs. “It’s okay, your made-up god isn’t watching.”

He chuckled under you, staring at the framed photo of god on your wall. He indeed was watching the pair of you, their eyes interlocking for a moment.

In a sick and almost twisted way, Luigi felt like he was above a god at that exact moment. Reducing the religious memorabilia around the living room to nothing but decoration as he cooed condescending little comments in your ear.

“Poor thing…thinks her little god is more reliable than science,” he chuckled. “So naïve. So very naïve.”

His big hands caressed the underside of your thighs, his steadily rising erection pressing against the tight fabric of his cargo shorts.

You felt it directly between the concave between your thighs; angry and insistent as it twitched and hissed in an effort to communicate with your now achy and fervent womb.

They conversed in a rampant back and forth, twitches and beats of silence while you attempted to hang on to your fleeting sense of self-control. Greedy and gluttonous, you felt your lower abdomen flutter as you struggled to look Luigi in his eyes.

“See I’d help you out…but you’re Christian, remember? Fornication is off limits” he laughed, his head knocking back as he cooed at you like some sort of idiot animal.

Reduced to silence, twitching and pulsing you were sure he could feel, you whined at his unfortunately correct words.

Chaste, innocent, and virgin as Mother Mary. Your actions weren’t your own, you swear! It was the devil that allowed Luigi to coax your hips along his bulge, the thick and twitchy mound relieving a fraction of the achy tension between your legs.

“This is…really bad—“ you panted, brows pinching together in newfound euphoria. Waves of sweet, sinful pleasure washed over you. But yet the thirst persisted; parched with stinging tears of saltwater brimming in your eyes.

“Hmm?” He hummed, rocking your hips against his more intensely. “Let me know if you want me to stop…”

The envelope was on the table. All you had to do was take it. If you really wanted him to stop, a simple “No more” would have sufficed for him.

But the words never left your lips.

They died somewhere along the disconnect in your thought process compared to your morals. What did find their way to the surface, though, was high and breathy moans as you dry-humped one of your close friends.

How shameful. Blessed be the whore that gives into the temptation of the serpent, for she knows not that she is being deceived by the work of sin.

The ebb and flow of pleasure grew painful; it wasn’t enough for you as vestality chipped away from you, the cracks of pleasure generating a slick and damp feeling in the soft pink cotton fabric of your panties.

“More, please…” you croaked, squeezing your eyes shut as Luigi used your smaller frame like a toy for his own pleasure.

“Oh, you want more now?” He cooed, turning you around so your back was pressed to his chest. “But look who’s watching you, hmm?”

He pointed at the painting of Christ, his eyes unmoving as you stared at the portrait. You whined, clamping your eyes shut to help fight the feeling of shame.

Regret and remorse were only short-lived, as before you could even process your failure to uphold your morals, large and hot hands found their way down your shorts and to your drenched folds.

“It’s ok, my dear…he can watch me appreciate his creation,” he chuckled, pushing a large finger in you slowly. Much to his surprise, he found it a little more difficult than he had anticipated.

Walls of supple and sensitive flesh refused him with rapt denial, your very own body trying its hardest to deny him entry in favor of virtue. She cried, wetting him down to the knuckle in aroused melancholy as he slowly bullied his way through the previously locked temple.

You whined, the unfamiliar and slightly painful sensation blocking your path to common sense. It felt good, but it hurt, erotic fire burned at your core as your body made clockwork of adjusting to the stretch.

“There we go,” he said, slowly dragging his finger in and out of you as you began to calm down. His free hand wrapped around you, securing you in place while his middle finger worked on plucking the stamens from your flower.

“Isn’t this so much better than religious paranoia?” He cooed, gradually gaining speed as his ring finger began to press at your entrance as well. “Deep breath for me, baby.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, fighting the urge to scream as his ring finger pushed into you. It hurt like hell, but maybe that pain was the vengeance for disobeying the word of God.

“Fuckin…hurts!” You whined, leaning your head back into the crook of his neck.

“I know, I know, but you’ll get used to it…” he reassured, plunging his fingers in and out of you at a moderate face that had your cunt drooling into his palm.

You leaned back against him for some semblance of comfort, fisting the cotton of his shirt to self-soothe as the pain slowly began to fade away.

And when it did begin to fade, you were left with the most delicious fruit of pleasure you had ever bitten from in your life. Your eyes shot open with the intangible, over 20 years of unexplored sensations washed over you at once.

He borderline abused the spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars; thousands of cosmos you had never even thought about before.

He chuckled lowly the high and breathy moans that you rewarded him with, your nails digging into the sides of his wrists as he coaxed you into an intense orgasm.

“See, look at you…you love science, right? God wouldn’t allow you to have this, but man does…” he said, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you at the same brutal pace, even after you painted his fingers glossy white.

And he watched with rapt attention as you cried and whined in his lap. The way you attempted to squeeze your legs shut to get the achy and electric sensation to go away, wriggling around on his lap in an effort to escape the pleasure he was giving you.

He didn’t let you run, not even a little. Instead, he took the arm he had wrapped around your body and scooped your legs up by the back of the thigh, pressing you further against his chest.

“Don’t run from it…you need this with how I’ll do you later,” he warned, a cocky and knowing smirk forming on his face as he listened to you pant and moan.

That’s when he began to feel you clench and spasm around him for a second time, your tears matching your release as you wept with overstimulation.

“Good job, so so good…you did so good for me,” he praised, punctuated with a feather-light kiss to your forehead before he pulled his drenched and opalescent fingers out of you, coaxing your jaw open with his opposite hand and shoving them to the back of your throat.

His rough and lecherous ways paralleled your own in a sick and depraved way; what you lacked in experience and knowledge he picked up with action and skill. His tainted and analytical mind brushed off on yours, using your pure and sinless brain to better his own.

“Good girl,” he mused as you quietly gagged on his fingers before obediently sucking them clean. He used that allotted time to pull down both of your shorts, his grapefruit-pink tip angrily shooting up and knocking against your cunt.

You jumped, your eyes widening as you moved your head to look down, blinking away any tears that fogged your vision.

He was huge. So huge you weren’t even sure how that was supposed to fit inside of you without something or someone breaking.

“Don’t panic,” he mumbled, pulling his fingers out your mouth with an almost grotesque pop. “We’ll make it fit.”

“C’mon, I’m makin’ you watch,” He stated, grabbing the back of your neck and pushing it down slightly so you had no other choice but to watch as the shiny beads of precum fizzled from his slit and rubbed against your cunt.

The sight was dizzying in itself. He swiped himself against you, two—three…four times before he grabbed himself at the base.

“Deep breath for me, hmm?” He said, lining himself up with you while pressing his other hand over your mouth. He pushed in slowly, after all, he wasn’t a psycho.

You watched as he slowly speared you open, slowly separating you from your vestal and celibate body as he speared you open. You cried out in alarm, a sound that was swallowed by his large palm over your mouth.

“You’re okay, relax, baby, relax..” he whispered, coaxing you down further along his agonizingly long cock. He removed his hand from over your mouth, a quiet string of profanities leaving his lips as you clenched down on him.

“Relax,” he stated, a little bit more firmly. “We’re not gonna get anywhere if you won’t let me in…”

You nodded, trying your best to ease up in his lap. Luigi took that as a sign to push in at once, earning a yelp from you in the process as you began to pant heavily.

“Luigi!” You scolded, pinching his leg disapprovingly as tears stung your waterline again.

“Better to rip the bandaid off than prolong the pain” he chuckled, resting his hands on your hips to rub gentle circles on your skin.

He let enough time go by until your chest stopped staggering up and down, letting you slowly ease in his arms again before he began to piston his hips up into you slowly.

You were so gone, convulsing and moaning on him like it was the last thing you’d ever do. He took a hand back off your hips and placed it over your neck again, driving your gaze towards the sinful display as he bucked into you like an angry goat.

“Poor thing…so sensitive…” He mocked, grinning at your fucked out expression as he buried himself in your ribs. “You feel alright?”

It was too much to attempt to talk. Your eyes had clamped shut somewhere in the process, giving him frantic and tired nods as he leaned forward presumably to cage you against him further.

But that’s when your senses picked up a familiar sound.

Your rosary.

“Start praying,” he commanded, fidgeting with the beads absentmindedly.

You gasped, trying to make out any sentence you could as he brutally abused your weeping cunt.

“Start praying or I’ll stop,” He said, slowing his hips down and causing you to chant out tiny whines of “Okay, I’m sorry.”

“God is…God is our—! Oh dear..” you began, mind fogging up as you tried to squeeze out Psalm 46. “God is our refuge…and strength…”

“An ever-present help—Ah! In trouble…Therefore we will not fear—!”

He wrapped the wooden beads of prayer around your throat, the words of the lord dying in your larynx as he tugged your head back with the fever of a madman.

He was all around you; watching your every move as if surveying you from above. How ironic, the sight. The petals of your lively and gentle buds being plucked piece by piece by the hands of science.

In this sinful and dishonorable scene before him, there was no sight of a god. Only man and need as you cried and moaned around his fingers. And just like a serpent of science, testing your faith with temptation, he sunk his teeth into the side of your neck.

When you began to clench and flutter around him again, he panted, animalistic and heavy groans of his own rushing forward as he, too, began to come undone.

“Tight—! Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” He whined, listening to your loud and feminine moans as your holy-white release covered him from tip to base.

And with a few more rough and bruising thrusts straight to your cervix, he pulled out just in time to paint your stomach poltergeist-white.

You panted, whining loudly as he pulled your trembling form off of him and tossed your rosary somewhere on the couch.

“C’mon…let’s go shower”

#luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione x you #luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi Mangione my beloved #FREE MY BABY DADDY #mean luigi supremacy

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