#daddy's sweetheart

[comeheretonight]

We are all just weird people congregating <3

[sprout-fics]

Something something Price and orgasm control- being so possessive over his adoring sweetheart that he needs to own all of you down to the minute fibers of your pleasure.

Not being allowed to touch yourself except if you're given permission- and even then having to ask to cum. Sending him videos while he's on deployment of you whimpering and humping a pillow, knowing you're not allowed to cum until he returns home and ruins you properly. Becoming increasingly desperate and nearly crying over the phone to him and he just coos and tells you to wait a little longer.

He always delivers, of course. He returns home still stinking of cigar ash and gun oil and fucks you into the bed properly until you hiccup and writhe from how overwhelming it is.

Something something Price conditioning you so that you associate your orgasms inherently with him. A way of wrapping a leash around your throat so you'll come back if you ever try to leave- unable to orgasm by yourself or with anyone else. His and his only.

[b1mbodoll]

GABI HOW COULD YOU POST THAT ABOUT STEPBRO JAKE YOU KNOW stepbro enha are my weakness (the thought plagues my brain ALL the TIME!!!!) and i was thinking abt it (again.. no one is surprised.. and ur post + the no doubt mv only fuelled my craziness) so. i’m gonna need to set the scene w corporate worker intern blah!jake. followed in his dads footsteps because the money is good and he’s got a knack for the math, but that doesn’t mean the job itself isn’t GRUELLING :( so when his dad marries your mom and introduces him to the sweetest little stepsister it genuinely feels like he’s been given a gift. you’re eager for a big brother to gossip with ‘n jakey’s just so accommodating and lets you sit on his thigh and babble about whatever you want as long as your pjs are thin enough that he can distract himself guessing at the colour of your panties. he can’t help himself from resting his hands on your waist and subtly repositioning you, grinning when bouncing his thigh jus’ a little has you squirming and stuttering! he definitely makes pervy comments too :( calls you his wife ‘n jokes about marrying you because coming home to you lounging in his bedroom is something that gets his slacks all tight in the front! he asks for a kiss on the cheek goodbye if you’re up early enough ‘n expects one when he gets home — you brush it off as accidental when he turns his head too fast ‘n you catch his lips instead. buys you the prettiest things and insists on spoiling you with shopping sprees that have him ruining his expensive boxers at the thought that you’re being mistaken for a couple :( like This Jake fully embodies the mean bully you talked abt in your post whenever he’s had a tough day or something you do ruins his fantasy — he likes thinking about you as his pretty little wife, not his slutty stepsister prancing about in the clothes he paid for, dolling yourself up for some stupid date! (as always, this is crazy long but i think you might expect this from me now.. also referring to me as ur angel baby did irreparable damage to my sanity gabi ‘m blushing and twirling my hair rn i cant)

— lots of love ‘n kisses, ur fairy anon

warnings: stepcest + creampies + masturbation + handjob ment. + daddy kink + orgasm denial + dacryphilia + pregnancy ment

💌: m gna eat u omg r u kidding me im so obsessed with this, my brain is melting n im drooling 😵‍💫

calls you his wife … yeah this is so… ‘m moaning. he totally would, n he’d even get u a cute little ring to wear, fantasizing about how it’d catch the light when he gets you to stroke his cock 😵‍💫 jerks off n nearly moans your name while thinking abt his cum leaking from his tip onto your ring :( maybe you’d even be a good little wife n clean them off with your tongue

god forbid you take the ring off, though! your husband stepbrother is absolutely livid when he finds out that you’ve left it on your vanity rather than keep it on for your date; n yeah its actually Very hot seein ur big brother all mad, his button up shirt undone at the top, sleeves rolled up n displaying his thick n veiny forearms, and his hair is all messed up as he plays the role of an overprotective big brother (is it in ur head or is he sounding a bit possessive?) but all you can picture is tugging on it while he fucks you, n you’re beating yourself up mentally for even thinking about your brother in that way (little do you know he needs to put a baby in you)

something you do ruins his fantasy… r u joking me.. sure this can go with the lil date idea but.. jake getting genuinely upset when you call him your brother 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 would your brother tease your virgin cunt every time he had you in his lap? or press kisses to your neck while running his hands over your thighs, daring to pull at your sleep shorts n shallowly slide in your needy little pussy? either you’re even more of an airhead than he thought, or you enjoy watching him struggle to maintain his composure because there’s no way you dont know he wants you

he would absolutely love the two of you being mistaken for a couple n jakey’s quick to speak over your denial, a sweet smile on his face as he replies with a “thank you” to every person that calls you two a cute couple <333 when you ask abt it he just kisses your cheek (a bit too tenderly to be in a stepsibling kind of way) n says its just “too much of a hassle” to correct everyone… n even asks you if it’s such a bad thing for people to think he’s ur bf… are you embarrassed of him?

when jake finally gets you desperate enough for him, he has so much fucking fun making you say filthy things n has even more fun watching you squirm at his dirtytalk.

his pace is unbearable, you’re unable to do anything but take it as he batters your cervix with his fat cock n manipulates your body, pushing n pulling your legs to feel you even deeper. “d’you like havin’ my cock inside your tight cunt? does it feel good, princess?” he questions, voice thick with arousal.

but you’re too fucked out to reply, of course you like it but there’s no way you can form a coherent sentence as he keeps up the brutal pace, his tip hits your cervix with every thrust n he’s relentless. you’re so close, so fucking close and…

oh. it’s gone. your impending orgasm fades and it has your face crumpling, tears pouring down your cheeks at the lack of stimulation. why’d he stop? why why why why wh-

“i asked you a question, angel. y’gonna be a good girl n answer me?” a sniffle from you, and then: “jakey! please don’t stop, ‘m sorry ‘m sososo sorry please fuck me! pleaseplease it feels so fuckin’ good! love my brother’s cock so much-“ he cuts you off with a harsh slap to your tit, a sneer forming on his face at your surprised gasp.

“‘m not your fuckin’ brother. god,” he laughs humorlessly. “am i gonna have to fuck you until you get it through your dumb little head?”

jake pinches your nipple between his fingers n twists it enough to cause a jolt of pain to shoot through you n make your walls clench around him. “i’m not your brother,” he thrusts into you harshly with each word. “‘n you’re not my fucking sister, got it?”

your bottom lip trembles, eyes screwed shut with pleasure as he resumes fucking you n jake’s brain is foggy, he can’t believe he’s ballsdeep in your pussy n before he knows it, he spills his deepest desire to you

“you’re my wife,” jake sighs, pressing his forehead to your own. “say it. say you’re my wife.. my sweet little wife, god look at you. takin’ my cock so well, ‘s like you were made for me”

it’s not long before your orgasm builds yet again, white hot pleasure consuming you n his words send you over the edge, pussy spasming n clamping down on his thick cock until you cream around him.

“‘m your wife, jakey! ‘m your wife, yourwife yourwife, fuck. fill me up, knock me up, jakey.” you wraps your arms around him to pull him close, pressing your lips to his ear before whispering, “‘m gonna make you a daddy.”

jake cums with a deep, guttural groan, his teeth clenched as thick, hot cum spurts from his cockhead and fills your womb to the brim. legs wrap around his waist to keep him inside you n it takes him a second to realize your lips are moving n you’re talking to him. “sorry princess, what’d you say…?”

you giggle n bat your lashes up at him, still wet from your tears, i said, “do you wanna go again?”

[mimililie]

I promise I can be good

[jjkbambi]

sorority car wash luigi mangione x reader (18+)

smut summary: your best friend’s brother luigi visits your sorority’s spring fundraiser

warnings: long ass argument, our frat boy #graduated, rough as usual, name-calling, p in dis v :3, is car sex public? car sex, implied cheating, jealous quickie, assume everything is unedited

the fundraiser had drawn out the worst of penn state: truck drivers, high school football coaches, republicans with obvious gambling addictions. despite the obvious discomfort around dancing around frat row in a bikini, there was an undeniable satisfaction in knowing every passing gaze was a dollar to your name.

well — not necessarily your name. it was a dollar to your sorority house, your sisters, your reputation. your public display was, in all, an investment for an impressive bullet point on your college resume. any level-headed businessman would’ve been able to see that.

unfortunately for you, luigi mangione majored in computer science.

your heart falls to the floor the second you see his car swerve into the street. your feet move quickly, running up to the side of his car before any of the girls could hound a dollar out of him. his window is down and you’re in it, both whispering and yelling, “what the hell are you doing here?”

“car wash,” the brunette boy says flatly, gesturing to the hastily painted cardboard signs wrapped around your sorority house.

“it’s for penn students only.” you say, trying to wave him off. the thought of him—or anyone else from back home—meeting your new fair-weather city friends is unbearable. it would take months to salvage your pride.

“it doesn’t say that anywhere.” luigi argues. “plus, i’m an alumni.”

interest washes over the crowd of busy rich cheerleaders as they begin to inch nearer to the scene. you’re frazzled and fucked. “mangione, please don’t embarrass me.”

“you’re embarrassing yourself,” luigi says. his eyes glance over your body, skin exposed and wet with the moisture and mess of the event, boobs perky underneath your strappy bra. “seriously, what the fuck are you wearing?”

you feel a rush of insecurity as you bring your arms up to cover yourself. “it’s sorority tradition—“

“we didn’t do any of this at my frat—”

“it was an engineering frat, you didn’t do anything—!” as your whining comes to a close, a pool of your sorority sisters begin to flood around you. your heart rate sparks.

“who’s this?” your roommate asks.

the italian boy is quick to smile at the new company, his earlier furrowed brows and fault-finding demeanor vanishing in an instant. “i’m luigi,” he says with a brief wave. “i’m with y/n.”

“he means we’re friends from back home,” you correct quickly, shooting a glare at him. “he actually went here. he was in phi psi.”

“aw,” your roommate coos. “those guys do my homework all the time.”

he reaches over to open the car door, the force pushing you aside as it swings open. “get in the car,” luigi says. you pause, confusion swirling around you. then, luigi glances at your crowd of sisters, acknowledging them with a slight nod. “i’m borrowing her for the day. is there some sort of curfew i need to know about?”

“no, but it’s karaoke night,” one of your sisters tell him. “you should come! it’ll be at zbt.”

luigi raises a brow. “the sports frat?”

“yeah,” your sister says, grinning. “y/n’s boyfriend is the president. he’s super nice—you’d like him.”

his eyes flick to you. “boyfriend?”

“luigi’s busy tonight,” you say, forcing a tight smile, desperate to change the subject. “besides, he’s probably super jet-lagged—he is supposed to be backpacking through asia right now, after all.”

“yeah, well,” luigi says, his voice cool but with an edge that stings, “i stopped by for my sister’s birthday this weekend.” his eyes narrow as he looks straight at you. “guess one of us had to remember.”

your shoulders stiffen under the weight of his words, heat rising to your face.

“aw, luigi, you’re so sweet!” one of your housemates chimes, completely oblivious to the tension brewing. your guilt crashes over you, hot and suffocating. it’s almost embarrassing, the sudden clarity of how far you’ve strayed, how horrible you’ve become. “y/n’s boyfriend does cute stuff like that too. he came all the way down this morning to get pictures of her in this new outfit.”

if you didn’t feel stupid and cold before, you most definitely do now.

luigi glances over his shoulder. “isn’t the zbt house just around the corner?”

your housemate, still oblivious, grins and adds, “yeah! he’s always doing cute stuff like that for her. like, he prints a bunch of pictures of her and made a wall in his room because he thought she’d think it was sweet.”

you had no intention of your best friend’s brother ever finding out about your flamboyant college romances, yet here he was, gossiping with your girls. “he took that down as soon as i asked him to,” you explain.

“yeah, and ever since then, he sends flowers like, everyday.” your sister hums, bright-eyed. “so thoughtful, right?”

luigi’s jaw clenches, and his shoulders tense. “yeah, cute,” he says, voice low and biting. “guess that’s what happens when you’ve got nothing better to do than play personal assistant.”

“luigi.” you say, a desperate attempt to draw the line.

“get in, now,” he beckons.

luigi’s dark eyes never leave you, boring into you with a relentless intensity that makes your stomach churn. the look isn’t anger—it’s something deeper, more personal, and it clings to you as you fumble into the passenger seat. each movement feels heavier than the last, his unyielding stare haunting you as you slip inside, shutting the door between you and the reality you can’t escape.

the car swerves sharply, pulling you from your thoughts as you put your head in your hands. “i totally forgot,” you mutter, voice barely audible.

“clearly, you had distractions,” luigi says, his tone colder than you expected, like a wall between you both.

you feel his disappointment radiating through the air, and it hits harder than you’d like to admit. “you know,” he continues, his voice laced with bitterness, “back when we were close, you never would’ve forgotten something like that. but i guess things are different now.”

you wince, knowing he’s right. you’ve been so caught up in college, in the chaos of sorority life, parties, and the constant buzz of new experiences, that you’ve lost touch with everything that once mattered. and now, forgetting his sister’s birthday feels like the final nail in the coffin.

the silence hangs heavily between you, suffocating and full of unspoken truths. you can’t even find an apology that would suit the sin.

he reaches over to the backseat, tossing his jacket over your cold body, his fingers brushing against your skin as he does. “you look stupid like this,” he mutters, his voice laced with something deeper than frustration.

“it’s fucking weird,” luigi continues. “i used to watch you, how effortlessly you picked things up, how eager and excited you were for everything.” he sighs, his gaze flickering to you for a moment, like he’s trying to see the version of you he once knew. “but now… now it’s like you’re someone else. all that potential, all that drive—it’s like you’ve buried it under all this nonsense. i don’t even recognize you anymore.”

“oh, come on, luigi,” you say, defensive. it felt weird to have him like this—so cruel, so suddenly. “i make one mistake and now you don’t recognize me?”

he tuts, then rolls his eyes. “don’t act fucking dense.”

“i’m sorry, okay?” you say, half-defeated. “you’re not exactly giving me a chance to explain.”

“an explanation isn’t good enough.”

“just because i forgot one day doesnt mean im not here,” you argue. “you’re the one left the fucking country!”

luigi almost laughs at the dead argument. “and you stayed and still couldn’t show up when it mattered. how’s that any better?”

“i didn’t forget on purpose!” you can feel your temperature rising. “i’ve just been swamped with everything, alright? it’s not like i don’t care.”

luigi’s hands grip the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. “so that’s your excuse?” he says, his voice sharp. “too busy to remember my sister’s birthday, but not too busy for that stupid fucking boyfriend of yours?” he laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “god, you even joined that sorority for him, didn’t you?”

your face goes white and he takes it as confirmation. “fucking knew it. that’s exactly what it is, isn’t it? you’re too busy trying to be a penn girl, pretending like you fit in, just because he’s part of it. you’re so caught up in his world that you can’t even bother to remember the people who actually care about you.”

you’re cold underneath his judgement, almost speechless. almost. “this is why i didn’t want you finding out about him,” you truth.

“i was in a frat, y/n. i’ve seen girls like you before. weekends spent doing dumb shit like car washes for the sorority, all glittered up for spirit week like it’s some huge fucking accomplishment.” his anger cuts into you like a blade. “you're too fucking good for that.”

your heart is pounding now, and you feel your face flush with anger, embarrassment, and something else—deep, gnawing ache in your chest. your fingers tighten around the door handle. you can’t stand sitting here, suffocating under his judgment. without thinking, you yank the door open, trying to escape the weight of his accusations.

but before you can move, luigi’s hand shoots out, slamming the door shut. “what the fuck are you doing?”

“i don’t want to talk about this anymore.” you say, trying to push down the panic rising in your chest. you don’t want to be here anymore. not in this car. not with him looking at you like you’re some stranger.

“you’re not getting out of this car, y/n.”

you don’t respond. instead, you unbuckle your seatbelt and shove the door open, stepping out of the car before he can stop you. it’s like your whole body is running on autopilot—everything inside you screaming to get away from the mess he’s created, from the mess inside you.

“y/n!” luigi’s voice cracks, rising in a panic as he stops the car and jumps out after you.

you are not turning around and getting into that car and letting him humiliate you. your hands shake as you pull out your phone, desperate for some relief, something to help you make sense of all this. the contact name lights up on your screen, and you hit call, needing your boyfriend now more than ever.

before you can even hear the first ring, a hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist and yanking your phone from your grasp. you whip your head around, heart pounding in your chest, only to find luigi, his jaw clenched tight and eyes burning with fury.

“what the hell are you doing?” you demand, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and frustration. “give it back!”

but he doesn’t budge, holding your phone just out of reach. his voice is a low growl. “you’re fucking unbelievable. you’re seriously calling your boyfriend right now?” he’s glaring at you, his face hard with a mix of disbelief and something deeper you can’t quite place.

“you made your point, mangione!” you say. “clearly you already hate me, so i don’t see the point in sticking around for the ride. thanks for the reminder! see you around!”

“y/n, stop, i don’t hate you—“

“y/n? hello?” your boyfriend’s voice crackles through the phone, confused, a little worried.

luigi straightens, his hand tightening around the phone as he holds it to his mouth. “she’s busy.” he tosses the phone back into his car, cutting off the call with a finality that makes your heart race in frustration.

he opens his mouth for another lecture but your hard heart won’t let him in anymore. you’re beyond annoyed. he can keep the fucking phone, for all you care, you really just needed a second. you try to turn away, but he’s too fast. he grabs your wrist, pulling you back, and you’re caught off guard by the force in his touch. the heat between you is unbearable now, and the intensity of it makes your mind race.

“let go of me!”

“no,” luigi snaps, his voice harsh but laced with something you can’t quite place. “you don’t walk away from me.”

“i can do whatever i want!”

“you’re sure about that?”

without warning, he pulls you toward him, and before you can fully process what’s happening, his lips are on yours. it’s rough, unexpected, and it throws you off balance. your breath catches in your throat, and for a split second, you don’t know what to do.

your mind spins. this is worse than wrong. you shouldn’t be kissing him.

his grip on you is unyielding like the force of gravity, and you’re suffocating underneath the pressure, your confusion mixing with a strange, undeniable pull that makes your thoughts scatter. you pull away quickly, breathless and disoriented.

“luigi, no—stop,” you say, trying to regain your bearings, but your heart is still racing, your body still tingling from the kiss.

he doesn’t. he won’t.

his mouth is on yours again, aggressive and intent and so fucking mean. your balance is completely lost, your feet no longer sure of the ground beneath you. luigi doesn’t let up, his body pressing you into the side of his car and it’s like everything you knew about him is shifting, unraveling before your eyes.

when he pulls back, your chest heaves as if you’ve been starved for air. you try to summon another surge of pride, but luigi moves faster than your thoughts can catch. “lift up your legs,” he grumbles against your lips. you do. he carries you on him as he yanks open the door to the back seat, his hot breath hovering over your neck.

“you’re so fucking stupid,” luigi mutters into another sloppy kiss. “need me to teach you how to behave, yeah?”

desire and desperation muddle your better judgement. everytime you come up for air, you try to return to reason. “we shouldn’t—”

“let me,” he says. “i’m gonna take care of you.”

you shake your head as his warm hands grope and clutch at your cold nude. he was right—it was a stupid fucking outfit.

“relax,” luigi says, climbing over you, biting and sucking at your neck. you feel him between your legs, hardening. “you need me to teach you how to show you the ropes, don’t you? you need me, right, baby?”

“i have a boyfriend,” you whimper.

“doesn’t matter.” he says. “you belong to me.”

you’re in the corner of his car and there was no escape. luigi was all over you, grabbing, pulling, biting. “come on,” he beckons, coming in for another kiss. “make yourself useful, baby, i came all this way.” his fingers moving your bikini to the side and sliding his slender fingers into your aching clit. you quiver as he breaches your entrance.

“how often do you fuck him?” he asks, his two fingers digging into your core, storming your senses. the abruptness of the question made your nerves spike. there’s a certain amusement in his gaze, as if your misfortune is his greatest entertainment. “where? hm? hallways? dorms? in the shower, after his games, d’you spread your legs open to make him feel better about being a goddamn loser?” he’s intent on leaving your skin covered with evidence of him. he paints across your neck with his hot wet tongue, sucking and biting at your sensitive skin. you whimper at the sensation. “you’d make a perfect fuckin’ trophy wife.”

“i didn’t—“ you truth, shaky and red. “we never…”

“god,” he moans. “good fuckin’ girl, saving yourself for me.”

your mind is hazy, though not completely lost. “you’re jealous? of him?”

“why would i be?” luigi asks, smug. he knows he has every damn right he every right to be—he feels your slick drooling out of you, your body quivering underneath him. “i’m the only one who gets to have you like this.”

he reaches for his belt. you need this as much as he does. he can see the way your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his shifty friction, and it sends heat rushing down his abdomen. no reason to be patient about this.

“someone’s gonna see,” you whine.

luigi laughs against your mouth. “go on then, show them what a perfect fuckin’ penn girl you are.”

you barely hear him. your lower lip is between your teeth as you work to free his cock from his boxers, and he hisses in pleasure as you pump him gently, smearing his precum down his shaft. he reaches between your legs to hook his finger around your panties, pulling the gusset to the side.

your cunt glistens. you’re soaked.

“you’re unbelievable,” he grunts. “acting out because you couldn’t get any good dick?”

“you’re so mean to me.”

“just missed you, is all,” he murmurs.

you’d never expected him to be so big. you brace yourself on his shoulder with your free hand, sinking down on him gradually. you’re so wet that it only takes a moment to adjust to his size before you’re rocking against him again, and he pulls you back in for another hungry kiss, guiding your hips with his hands. a grin etches at the edge of his lips when he feels your cunt tightening around him when he brings his fingertips to your clit. “what, already, babe?” luigi teases, pretending his own release isn’t just moments away. “c’mon, that’s gotta be a new record.” you try to laugh, but he pushes the pressure on your clit, and you arch your back as the coil in your belly tightens.

“you’re so big, luigi,” you choke out.

“i know, pretty girl, i know,” he tries to assure, though he’s too lost in his storm of pleasure to have the decency to slow down.

tears well up in your eyes as he buries his cock deeper into you. hot flashes of pain and pleasure overwhelm you; it’s a devastating spell of torment and sanctuary. “luigi,” you whine. “too much, i can’t—“

“you’re so fuckin’ tight.” luigi says. “fuckin’ perfect, you know that?”

“i can’t, lu,” you whine. “you’re too big—”

“be a good girl,” he says. his cock bullies into your sensitivity. you swear you hear yourself snap in half. “let me fill you up, princess, let me make you mine.”

you’re a mess underneath him, whimpering and crying at the unfamiliar pleasure. something in the background begins to hum over and over and over until luigi glances over his shoulder. “your boyfriend’s calling,” he says. “you should answer, show him what a perfect slut you’re being for me.”

you run your head back and forth. “no? you don’t wanna do that for me?” he questions, eyebrow raising. he raises your body—closer,deeper—just to slap his hand against your ass. you jolt at the pain, shivering. “thought you were being good.”

“luigi,” you cry. “it hurts.”

“fuck,” he moans. he can’t help but slap your ass again. “you gotta make it up to me, y/n. you gotta let me come inside you.”

“lu, wait—“ you begin weakly, tangling your fingers in his hair. he cuts you off by sucking harshly at the delicate skin of your throat, and instantly you feel the coil snap.

“jus’ like that, baby, all mine,” he growls into your skin. you feel him smile against your neck as he marks it up. “i should visit home more often, yeah?”

“lu, please,” you moan.

“tell me who you belong to.”

“you, luigi. i belong to you.” you cry out as you convulse around luigi’s cock, slumping forward onto his muscular chest with a shiver. the sensation of your walls clamping down on him like a vice makes luigi dig his fingers into your flesh as he pumps his own release into you, swearing raggedly as his hips buck.

aside from the sound of your breathing, the car falls into a complicated silence, the windows clouded, blurring the world outside like some unspoken secret. your heart races as you both sit there, dazed, caught between confusion and something deeper. the empty neighborhood feels almost dreamlike, a quiet refuge for a moment too fragile to face the world. silently, you’re grateful for the solitude, for the way it shields you both.

“relax,” luigi mutters, his voice cutting through the haze. “this whole street was bought up by some real estate asshole. prices went sky-high, and no one took the bait.”

you glance at him, startled by the sudden softness in his tone. “is that true?”

luigi doesn’t answer right away. instead, he reaches over to the passenger seat, grabbing your phone. the motion is deliberate, almost taunting, as if he’s enjoying how unsteady you’ve become.

he tosses the phone onto your lap, the thud startling in the heavy air. “penn daily did a piece on it” he says, his voice low but cutting. “you can look it up after you break up with your boyfriend.”

your eyes widen, and you grab the phone quickly, clutching it as if it could ground you. “god, can you stop bringing him up for two seconds?”

“why?” he retorts, leaning back against his seat with a knowing smirk. “you brought him into this when you started dating the guy who shows you off to frat row and makes you fake-smile your way through glitter car washes.”

“he wasn’t even at the car wash this time,” you mutter, frustration bubbling up.

“too busy setting up karaoke night? are we going to that?”

“no.”

“my sister would probably love it,” he points out playfully. “and i know you didn’t get her a present.”

you roll your eyes, trying to avoid the guilt that wells up. “don’t remind me.”

“don’t be a brat,” he retorts, his voice firm but not unkind.

“I’m not being a brat,” you snap back, but there’s a hint of defensiveness in your tone.

“yeah, you are,” he says, his voice softening just a little. “but we’ll deal with that later.”

he glances over at you, a hint of a smirk on his face. turning your gaze to the window, avoiding his eyes. god, how were you meant to recover from this? another silence encapthres you and the awful spell of awkwardness washes over you both. until—

“you know i could never hate you, right?”

“hm?”

“you said earlier i made up my mind about you,” he murmurs, his eyes holding yours in a way that makes it impossible to look away. “i have… but not in the way you think.”

your breath catches, his words pulling at something deep inside you. “then how?”

“i’ve always liked you,” he says softly, his voice steady but tinged with something deeper. “hated seeing you go. hated the idea of you at college with some asshole who doesn’t see you the way i do.”

your heart skips, his words unraveling every doubt you’ve ever had. “and how do you see me?” you ask, barely finding your voice.

he leans closer, his gaze unwavering. “as everything.”

[fluffylino]

hyunjin takes charge when you feel down. (very soft i promise)

-contains mature themes

he was cuddled up by your side.

hidden under the sheets. head resting on your chest. while you scrolled through your phone. his index finger tracing your hip lazily.

your eyes glued to your phone. if you looked at hyunjin you'd probably end up crying. he loved you so much. even more than yourself. you'd look at him and feel like it was only the two of you.

he looked up at you, inches away from your face. letting out a small sound for you to look.

"mhm?" you hummed, smiling a little at how dazed he looked.

eyes soft and lips jutting out into a pout. you pecked him. a small smile appearing on his face. nudging his nose against your cheek.

you could feel his eyes on you. the reel you were watching making you giggle. until you felt that sadness within you disappear.

what were you even doing with your life? everything was becoming too much. you weren't living life. you were surviving.

"mommy" hyunjin mumbled, hiding his face in your chest.

breaking you out of your thoughts. you weren't feeling like yourself. you wanted to be taken care of. today.

you were vulnerable.

heart aching with tiredness. you hummed, holding your phone with one hand. using your right hand to stroke his head. untangling a few strands carefully.

"can i?"

how could you deny him when he asked so softly. voice stuck in his throat. you nodded. letting him slowly push your shirt up.

a small whine leaving him at the sight.

laying back down. mouthing at your exposed chest. his other hand coming up to hold your right boob. tongue laving over your hardening nub. you sighed. finally keeping your phone down.

all his attention on you.

"hard" he whispered. very carefully grinding his covered length against your thigh that was slotted there.

"j-jinnie" you whimpered. mind going fuzzy.

you missed him. even though he was so close. you wanted him closer. feeling extra submissive. his face lifting up to look at you with such kind eyes. you felt like you were going to start crying.

he seemed to understand.

he always understood.

"daddy will take care of you" he reassured, moving upwards to kiss you. holding your face as tears fell down.

kissing them away as you closed your eyes. all your worries sinking away.

"s-sorry" you whispered. what if he wanted you to take care of him.

"nothing to be sorry about, my love" he mumbled against your lips.

"tell me what you want"

you didn't know what you wanted from him. you wanted all of him. seeing him satisfied made you feel better.

"jerk you off?" you asked.

closing your eyes while he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. he hummed, shuffling around so he could still hold you.

his leg thrown over your waist. pulling his pants down just enough.

you watched silently. his length slipping out. tip rubbing against the side of your thigh.

you hadn't even realised you zoned out. that was until he gently held your hand.

making you wrap your fingers around his cock. his own hand engulfing yours as he guided your movements.

starting off slow. with long strokes.

"you did well today baby" laying soft kisses to your neck.

"ah- so proud of you" you let yourself sink into his grasp. your hold on his dick getting more firm. pumping him more eagerly.

you puckered your lips, wanting him to kiss you till you couldn't breathe. and so he did. lips pressed against yours.

intentionally you swiped your thumb over his sensitive head, precum wetting it.

"d-don't tease, my love" you stopped your tricks, letting him enjoy.

"you're my beautiful s-smart baby" you whined, pulling away to look at where you were pumping him. his own hand next to yours.

so much bigger.

"want my fingers?" you shook your head, keeping your mouth open. as he moved his hand off his dick. now you were in charge of making him cum. his index and middle finger sliding right in.

you moaned at the feeling of his digits.

"want me to cum all over your stomach?" you nodded, ignoring the drool that had dripped down his wrist.

your grip on him growing tighter as you stroked him fast. breathy whines leaving his lips. he was getting so close. you knew it. you could feel it from the way his dick throbbed in your hand. his hips moving unconciously to match your pace.

he gradually sat up. nipping at your stomach. eyes shut tight.

it all happened so fast. his cum spurting out over you. staining you.

riding out his orgasm. he let out a heavy breath, leaning down to lick his cum off of you. before kissing you. groaning at the taste of him.

"mommy did so well"

[tinylilacbun]

Im currently bored at school, so here's what I think about during my free time😋

This is how Rafe reacts when you don't want to put on sunscreen, whining and almost throwing a tantrum the more he keeps asking you to come here :(( You end up feeling overwhelmed and start to cry. Meanwhile, he is getting tired of your brat attitude 'Okay, okay, no sunscreen, but stop being a crybaby for God's sake.' He sighs and brings you into his lap to soothe you, as he notices you are falling asleep in his lap, he still manages to slowly apply the sunscreen on you, carefully not to wake you up🤭

"Baby, m'not gonna say it again. Come here." Rafe glares at you, his hands on his hips while you're in the pool.

"No! M'playing mermaid! Don't need sunscreen!" You protest, adjusting your goggles before going under the water again.

Rafe sighs, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration, waiting for you to resurface and when you do his expression turns stern.

"You either come out now or swear I'll come get you myself and trust me, you don't want that." He warns you.

You instantly tear up, sniffling loudly. He hangs his head low with a long exhale.

"Fine, no sunscreen then, but stop crying for god's sake." He gives up, raising his hands in surrender as he goes over to sit down on the lounging chair, running a hand over his buzzed head.

He lifts his head again when he hears you get out of the pool, your wet feet slapping on the stone ground as you walk over to him.

You stand in front of him, looking down at your feet, your body shaking from the sudden temperature change.

Rafe reaches for your bluey towel and unfolds it, waving you closer. You quickly get settled on his lap, letting him wrap you in the fluffy towel.

A few minutes pass and he feels you sag against him, no doubt that you fell asleep from the small tantrum a while ago.

Taking that as his only chance he slowly unwraps you from the towel, pursing his lips and hoping you won't wake up as he grabs the sunscreen from the table nearby.

He stops when you stir a bit but luckily quickly get settled again, your breaths fanning against his neck.

Rafe quietly squirts a good amount on his hand before he starts to apply it gently onto your skin and face, waiting a few seconds every time you move.

He looks up when he sees Sofia approaching you both, holding two glasses in her hands and your sippy tucked in the crook of her arm.

"Everything okay?" She asks as she sees the dried tear streaks on your face and Rafe's exhausted expression.

Now it was his turn to throw his head back with a whine.

Taglist

For Everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity

[angelbabypinkpink]

MWUAH!! blonde hair reveal :)

[storyofleftoverthoughts]

Almost Friday !! 🤍🖤

[comeheretonight]

[choco-bite]

Be silly with me🎀

[ittybittyluci]

So y’all remember this scene right?

From Helluva Boss S2 E7? When Mammon threatened Ozzie. And how EVERYONE was freaking out and so scared cuz they though Asmodeus was gonna get in trouble for his relationship,

But, now I’m looking back and I’m like… why IS he gonna regret it. He’ll get public backlash sure, but eventually everyone’s gonna have to get over it. He’s a Sin. He’s the main sex toy manufacturer in Hell. I don’t think ppl are gonna care enough to boycott. They’re too desperate.

The only people that outrank him are the royal family. And like… in all actuality, who’s gonna get mad at him?

This bitch?!

Please!

[annahxredaxted]

Milo and sweetheart fake(?) wrestling on the floor when he hears sweetheart wince suddenly and he realized he kneed their abdomen while moving.

Anyway he gets scared and immediately helps them get up, while they say it’s fine while half smiling and he backs up to the wall, tearful because he got flooded with memories of his dad hurting his mom half intentionally and he was saying I’m sorry repeatedly.

How do you feel about that?

[mimililie]

wish you were here right now

[jjkbambi]

the best man! luigi mangione x reader

summary it’s your brother’s wedding this weekend. best man! luigi and you are in charge of finding something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue to gift your sister-in-law for the wedding!

no warnings! just fluff and vibes. slight enemies to lovers? he’s your brothers best friend, so naturally there’s a bit of a push and pull. comfort + slice of life . pls tell me if u like!

for the first and last time, your brother entrusts you with his shiny silver credit card.

the fancy card was shoved in the back of your scuffed clear phone case, and yet, you couldn’t help but feel a touch of pride swinging it around. it felt like everyone around you now knew about your exclusive access to mediocre airplane food and flight points no one ever knew how to use. of course, the real perk was priceless: this thing was doing a great job at stroking your ego.

“i’m sure we won’t find something borrowed at swarvoski, y/n.”

your brother’s last-minute plea to fulfill the wedding tradition of something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue came with two conditions: an unlimited budget and the unspoken punishment of spending the weekend with his best friend.

“luigi, all diamonds are borrowed,” you huff. “we didn’t find them under the mall or in america.”

luigi had dropped by your house far too early in the morning for you to be in a good mood. he hadn’t been fair, either, proudly announcing that he’d already fulfilled two out of four of the needed items on the list. something old: the beloved couples prom photo glossed over and re-framed, tossed at the back of his car for all those with eyes to see. and something blue: a pair of bright blue oval sunglasses the boys had found in tokyo. you tried to tell him that, objectively, the glasses were really fucking ugly and there was just no way anyone could give that to a woman on her wedding day. luigi wouldn’t listen. he tried to sell you on the idea that the foreign souvenir was sentimental, proof your brother had been thinking about her despite time and distance, but you were already settled on the idea that oval sunglasses hadn’t been a good idea since the nineties.

you stare down the case of rings intently. before you can find one that catches your eye, luigi interrupts again, “she’s already getting two rings.”

“she has two hands,” you argue.

“you have two shoulders; you don’t wear a bag on each everyday.”

“you don’t see me everyday.”

“right.” he agrees seemingly just to agree. the brunette boy leans over the counter, casting his masculine judgement over the case of brightly colored jewelry.

just as the quiet settles in, he comes with a grumble, “these are impractical.”

they’re supposed to be. they wear bold, unconventional jewels. to his point, their gallant design teetered on the edge of gaudy, yet there’s the one. the white idyllia cocktail ring: a mix of cut gemstones, with a delicate flower design at its heart. the petals were a collection of smooth yellow stones, curled in a way that almost looks like they’re caught mid-bloom, while the rhodium plating gives it a nice silver contrast. it’s sweet but striking, the kind of piece that demands attention without screaming for it.

“they’re cocktail rings,” you say, defensive.

luigi lifts one shoulder up to shrug. “they’re tacky.”

“you wear hybrid shorts and souvenir tees—“

“are you two alright over here?” the sales associate chirps, all bright eyes and perfect teeth.

“we are perfect,” you reply through a small, forced smile, your headache blooming like a bad omen.

she’s tall, polished, and dangerously cheerful for how early it is. “what’s the occasion?”

“a wedding—” you start.

“oh, wow, a wedding?” she gasps, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. “congratulations! you two make such a beautiful couple.”

the sheer horror of spending any more life tethered to luigi hits you like a truck. you open your mouth to deny it, but before you can, luigi nods with a polite, “thank you.”

he doesn’t even flinch, casually inspecting a display of bracelets while you’re left to choke on your indignation. you freeze, caught between correcting the mistake and just letting it slide. but before you can make up your mind, luigi leans in, casually gesturing to a row of silver tennis bracelets. “we’re actually just picking out something nice for her before the big night,” he says with a playful grin, his tone light and teasing.

the sales associate beams, clearly oblivious to the tension between you two. “how lovely!“ she sings. “you’re both so lucky to have each other.”

“so lucky,” you manage.

luigi, on the other hand, doesn’t miss a beat, turning to the associate with that effortless charm you’ve heard so much about but never actually seen in practice. “we were just talking about how much we prefer simpler jewelry, you know? nothing too flashy. like those rings over there, totally not our thing, right babe?” he grins, nudging you playfully before adding, “these thin bracelets look nice, though.”

“tennis bracelets,” you correct him, trying hard not to look annoyed.

“whatever you want, babe,” he says with a wink, clearly having way too much fun with this.

the sales woman says something chirpy before fluttering off to grab a tray of options, and luigi leans closer to you with a stupid playful smirk. “you know, it’s fun messing with people sometimes,” he tells you.

you rub your temples in attempt to soothe your storming headache. “you’re just being annoying,” you say, deflated. “i’m gonna go grab a coffee. please just don’t get an ugly color like yellow or green.”

he cocks his head to the side. “i like those colors?”

that doesn’t surprise you. “you’re one of a kind, mangione,” you hum, the words almost losing their bite as you slip the shiny silver card from your case, tapping it lightly against his chest. “have fun. just text me when you’re done.”

luigi opens his mouth to reply with something, perhaps incentive to stay to keep you between him and the sales associate, but before he can get it out, the winter chill finally gets the best of you. you make a sharp, purposeful exit, walking fast enough to look like you know where you’re going, but not so fast it’s obvious you’re trying to escape.

the cold air bites at your skin, but your instincts were right: espresso is the only thing that’ll fix your morning. you settle by the fountain, wrapping your hands around the warmth of your cup, grateful for the quiet. just as the steam from your drink begins to settle, you hear the rustle of gift bags. expensive gift bags.

you look up. luigi, brown-haired and a bit late. “you didn’t answer my texts,” he says.

you blink, then glance over at your phone.

from Luigi Mangione (Penn) Where are you

from Luigi Mangione (Penn) I hate this mall

Luigi Mangione (Penn) is now sharing his location with you! Would you like to share it back?

from Luigi Mangione (Penn) Fucking answer me

3 missed calls

“oh my god,” you say, eyes widening. “luigi, i swear i’d never do that on purpose.”

before he takes the chair beside you, he gives you a telling look. you would.

“pep,” you frown, the childhood nickname rolling off your tongue seemingly ticked him off more. “seriously, my mind hasn’t been working all day. i haven’t slept and—you know. everything’s just been weird.”

“alright,” he sighs, trying. “what’s bothering you?”

“you’d think it’s stupid,” you say, trying to dismiss the purpose of your sadness entirely. at the end of the day, you didn’t want to get into your dip in depression with your brother’s best friend. all your woes would just turn into an endless run of joke material at next year’s thanksgiving. “what’d you buy?”

“silver thing.” luigi answers, sliding the giftbag toward you. “shiny, impossible to hate. we’ll have to pull together something more interesting for something borrowed.”

you nod, flying through the clouds of gift wrap to get to the beautifully extravagant

yellow

box.

your lips pull into a straight line.

“they were out of the other color boxes. but the bracelets silver,” he tells you.

you touch the box gingerly and try to take the high road. there was no reason to end a bad week worse. “i’m sure it’s nice,” you manage.

luigi crosses his arms over his chest. “look in the other bag,” he says, slightly pushy. you brighten up, slightly at this—he was a smart guy, but was he wise and willing enough to invest in options?

you turn to the other bag with the other box, also mustard fucking yellow, but smaller and more delicate. pulling the top open, you reveal the white flower ring you’d been eyeing earlier—its petals a soft, intricate design that now seems even more beautiful in your hands.

“you kept looking at that ring,” luigi points out. “it’s yellow.”

you first look at him, then the ring. did he seriously buy this just to prove a fucking point?

“it’s white and gold.”

“says yellow on the receipt.”

you sigh, shutting the lid and dropping it back into it’s fancy gift bag. “i guess we’ll have to ask the bride.”

“we can go back and ask the sales associate for all i fuckin’ care,” he says, his tone firm. you laugh at how silly this is.

“you swiped my brother’s card for a ring, just so we could argue about it?” you say, rolling your eyes. “somehow, i’m the one everyone calls crazy?”

“no, i put that one on my card,” luigi corrects. “you can keep it.”

you freeze, looking up at him, confused. he wasn’t the type to indulge in unnecessary accessories. he hated consumerism. hell, he’d gone off about capitalism all the way over here. “what do you mean?”

“you liked it.” he shrugged. “it’d look good on you anyway, just keep it.”

you blink, momentarily thrown off. it sounds so silly, but as you look at him, you realize it’s the nicest thing that’s happened to you all week. you feel a warmth spread through you, unexpected but welcome. you lunge in for what was probably your first ever hug.

“aw, pep,” you say, tone soft and musical.

he pulls back, “no—we don’t have to—”

“no, seriously, you have no idea how awful this week has been for me,” you sigh into his neck. his warmth feels nice. warranted. he’d allow it. “thank you.”

“tell me,” luigi says into your hair. he hugs his arms around the small of your back, gentle, soft, barely there.

“hm?”

“tell me what happened.”

you try to mask the tension in your chest as you search for the least emotional way to explain your drop in enthusiasm. you pull away and start cautiously.

“well… my boyfriend pulled out of the wedding.”

“…oh.” he blinks, slow to a reaction. “is he okay?“

“we broke up,” you truth. the words feel foreign on your tongue, awkward in their simplicity. of all the people you expected to have this conversation with—gossiping over coffee about your ex—instagram user luigi.from.fiji was nowhere near the top of the list.

“oh,” luigi says. you feel him turning in, his gaze sharpening, studying you closely. you deliberately adjust your hair and look away, trying to escape the intensity of his attention.

“it’s whatever.”

“it’s not whatever. are you okay?” he asks, the concern in his voice making it clear he’s not going to let you off the hook that easily.

you put a hand on his wrist. “just don’t tell anyone. everyone in the family still really likes him.”

“y/n, i wouldn’t do that,” luigi swears. “and for the record, i never liked him.”

“you met him, what, once?”

“first impressions only take seven seconds,” luigi says, his tone shifting, a hint of a smile in his voice. “he wore a band tee to my parents’ country club. any reasonable person would’ve at least read the dress code before stepping in. it’s fuckin’ golf, not bowling.”

“luigi mangione, the fashion police,” you retort mockingly.

luigi relaxes into his seat, chocolate brown eyes searching yours. “so what happened? what’d he do?”

“everything just started to suck,” you admit, your voice softer now, like you’re still trying to make sense of it all. “he forgets what weekend the wedding is, forgets he has a trip planned with his boys. it’s like everything else comes first, and i’m just… somewhere in the background. i asked him if he knew when my birthday was — and he just stood there, silent.”

“so you broke up with him?”

“does that surprise you?” you ask, lifting an eyebrow.

he raises his hands in defense, a small laugh escaping him. “i was surprised you gave him a chance,” luigi argues, his gaze reuniting with yours, a different comfort in his gaze. “i’m not surprised you left him. surprised it took you so long, sure.”

“oh, fuck off,” you dispute, playful but sharp. “you don’t get to have an i told you so moment right now. you met him once then moved away!”

luigi scoffs. “it’s not rocket science, you know. i didn’t have to be across the street to see that you’re way too pretty to be wasting your time. honestly, i don’t know how anyone could ever forget someone like you.”

you hate that you flush at the compliment, quickly shaking your head back into reality. “you don’t have to be nice to me just ‘cause i had a shitty week, pep.”

he rolls his eyes. unbelievable. even your gentlest moments were shielded by your wall of contretemps. “i’m not being nice just because of that,” luigi says, his voice dropping a little lower. “i’m being nice because you deserve it. shitty week or not.”

you feel light-headed, like the ground beneath you is shifting with every word. the afternoon sun hasn’t even touched you yet, but it feels like you’ve been swept away by a storm. “thanks, i guess,” you say, suddenly shy and unlike yourself.

he leans forward — just a touch closer, his lips curling into something warmer, more certain. “you’re welcome,” he says, his gaze never leaving yours. it’s as if he’s trying to read the very contours of your soul, tracing each flicker of thought that dances across your face. his eyes move slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid to miss even the faintest shift in your expression, as though every moment with you holds something worth studying, something worth remembering. “and in case you didn’t know—if you ever need someone to make you feel special, i’m always around. not just ‘cause you deserve it, but because i’d be lucky to get the chance.”

your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, time seems to slow down. you can’t even really help the smile that tugs at your lips. “you really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?”

luigi chuckles softly, a hand brushing lightly against yours. “only when it’s you.”

[antianakin]

Happy fix-it AU where Padme leaves Anakin anyway because she realizes how bad he is for her, and she ends up retiring because she REALLY doesn't want to be a Senator anymore (it was also maybe encouraged by her Queen after her secret marriage to a Jedi was discovered) and she goes back to Naboo to be with her family. She's left behind her responsibilities but she doesn't know what to do now, she's just... adrift, sort-of in limbo and mourning her relationship with Anakin. She has to keep convincing herself not to go back to him because she KNOWS she doesn't want that anymore, she KNOWS she doesn't want to be the person she was with him again, but the thrill of the secret marriage to someone who was so passionate about being with her is also sort-of like a drug.

Her parents both offer to let her come help them in their respective jobs, but she doesn't really have the energy for that right now. She DOES like helping Sola with her nieces because their energy and innocence seems to be a balm for her heart. One day, Sola asks if Padme can take the kids to a local festival in Theed one day while she and her husband go do something else, and Padme agrees. The girls are old enough and Theed is safe enough that they can wander off on their own away from Padme as long as they know not to go TOO far and come back to her after a little while. As she peruses the different artwork on her own, one artist's work stands to her more than anyone else's, it just hits at the core of her and she's not even sure why. She stands in front of a painting of a bird in flight for what seems like hours, though it can't be more than a minute or two, before the artist himself comes over to speak to her.

He addresses her as Senator Amidala, and she quickly tells him that she's not a Senator anymore and she doesn't really want to go by the name Amidala either, she prefers just Padme these days. He agrees, and something about him, maybe his eyes, seems familiar but she can't quite put her finger on it. They talk about his art for a while and everything he says about his inspiration feels like it's speaking directly to her. Eventually, Pooja and Ryoo come up to her and start pulling at her hands, demanding that she come see something with them. Before she leaves, she finally realizes she didn't even know his name and asks him.

It's Palo. The first boy she'd ever loved. The last time she'd seen him she'd been twelve in the Legislative Youth Program. She knew he'd left politics to become an artist instead, but she'd never actually seen any of his art before or ever tried to get back in contact with him. Now she wishes she had. Pooja and Ryoo are still pulling her away so she doesn't have time to really get over her shock at this revelation before she has to leave him behind and someone else comes up to ask him a question in her place.

He shows up at her parents' door the next day with the painting of the bird she'd so adored, and offers it to her as a gift. He refuses to accept any payment for it no matter how much she insists, but asks if she'd be willing to take a walk with him instead. She agrees. They end up spending the whole day together, just talking. For the first time, Padme doesn't feel like she's drowning in her own feelings or floating with no direction. She feels a lot like she's finally come home.