#luigi mangione is my daddy

[loubella77]

18+ MDNI

I’m back to reading fan fiction… Luigi has me fucked up

(sauce: assassin by rejext on wattpad - can’t do permalink for some reason?)

[greengoblinswifey]

Counsel and the Accused—Luigi Mangione x Lawyer!Reader

summary— You’re a lawyer defending Luigi Mangione, a charming man accused of murdering a high-profile CEO. As you work closely on his case, a forbidden attraction grows between you, leading to passion that blurs the lines between duty and desire. Based on this request.

warnings— choking, praise kink, prison quickie, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— You guys were at my neck for more Luigi content so enjoy <3 FREE HIM!

You entered the prison’s meeting room, the door clicking shut behind you. Luigi Mangione was sitting there, his frame stretched out in the chair, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. The CEO murder suspect had a way of commanding attention, even in a place like this.

His smirk spread when you walked in. “I didn’t expect you so early, Ms. Y/L/N.” The way he said it, smooth and casual, sent a shiver down your spine, though you weren’t about to let him see it.

You placed your briefcase on the table, taking a seat across from him. “We need to focus on your defense, Luigi,” you said, trying to sound composed. “You’re facing serious charges. I’m not here for small talk.”

His eyes gleamed with amusement. “Is that really why you’re here, though?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze intense. “Or is there something else? You come in here, all professional, but I can see the way you look at me. I can feel it.”

He was always so flirty with you despite the place and conditions he was in. It was like when you were around, nothing else mattered.

You held his stare, refusing to back down. “I’m here to do my job. That’s all.”

Luigi chuckled, his signature smirk widening as he leaned closer. “Maybe, but if you were really just here to do your job, you wouldn’t be biting your lip right now. That’s not very professional, is it?”

Your breath caught, but you refused to let him win. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Don’t I?” His voice dropped, the words sending a delicious thrill down your spine. “I know you’re curious. Maybe more than you’d like to admit. And it’s not just my case you’re interested in, is it?”

You scoffed, trying to maintain control. “You think you can just distract me like that? You’re wrong, Mangione. This is about your future, not whatever you think this is.”

Luigi smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made your heart race. “I don’t think it’s just me who’s distracted, though.” He reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours lightly. “I think you’re just as interested in me as I am in you. It’s alright to admit it, sweetheart. I’m good at reading people.”

You didn’t pull your hand away, despite the heat pooling in your chest. His touch sent a thrill through you, and despite every logical thought screaming at you to stay focused, you found yourself leaning closer. “You’re full of yourself,” you murmured, though it came out softer than you intended.

“Maybe,” he whispered, his voice low and dangerously smooth, “But I’m not wrong, am I?”

There was a beat of silence. The air between you two felt charged with unspoken words. His gaze dipped to your lips for just a moment before flicking back up to your eyes. “I think you want this as much as I do. And if I’m wrong, well, you can always walk out.” His challenge was clear, daring you to take the next step.

You were trembling slightly, fighting the undeniable pull between you. Finally, the tension cracked, and you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a heated, desperate kiss. It was fierce, hungry, as if you both had been holding back for too long.

His hand slid to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss, pulling you closer, making it impossible to think about anything but him. Your breath mingled as the kiss became more urgent, the room spinning around you both.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you couldn’t help but smirk. “You got what you wanted.”

Luigi's eyes gleamed, still holding you close. “Maybe,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, “but I think I want more.”

“Then it’ll have to be quick and worth both our while.” Your lips hovered just above his as you spoke, the closeness sending a thrill through you.

You met his gaze, feeling the heat of the moment. “You’re right, wouldn’t want us to get in any trouble,” he replied, your voice steady. Luigi’s smirk returned, his eyes glinting with that familiar confidence. “I can work with that.” His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer as he moved with an urgency that matched the tension in the room.

Before you could fully process what was happening, he had moved swiftly, lifting you and guiding you onto the desk. The change in position caught you off guard, but you couldn’t deny the thrill of it.

His voice was low, but there was a softness to it, a contrast to the intensity of the moment. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, a reassuring tone in his voice. “You’re so beautiful.” His words sent a rush of warmth through you, a reminder that despite the charged energy between you, there was a tenderness to his touch.

His eyes locked in yours, the air filled with lust as he rode your skirt up and shifted your thong. He smirked looking down at the laced adorned fabric then lifted his gaze back to yours. His soft fingers collected your wetness, spreading it across your pussy then settling on your clit as he rubbed slow circles, preparing you to take his cock.

“You’re so wet, not to professional of you is it?” he whispered, voice husky.

“No teasing, Luigi,” you muttered, your breath ragged.

He pulled down the bottoms of his orange jumpsuit then his boxers went next, revealing a thick, hard cock. He was long, too, surely to hit all the right places and fill you up just right.

“Like what you see, Ms. Y/L/N?” he asked, cockily.

“I think I’d much rather feel it,” you retorted.

You held onto the desk, the rhythm of your breathing matching his, as he positioned the leaking tip of his cock against your pussy. He slowly pushed into you, your walls twitching around him as he filled you up, making you feel every inch and vein. He was so thick, the stretch practically burning as he stilled, allowing you to adjust to his size. Luigi was strikingly handsome, it was no surprise he had the package to match.

Luigi moved with purpose, careful yet insistent, and his words followed, each one laced with encouragement. “That’s it, just like that, take my cock inside that tight pussy.”

You moaned quietly, hands moving to his biceps as he rolled his hips to meet yours. Looking down, you stared briefly at his cock only half way moving inside you. He couldn’t even fit all of him in yet you still felt so full.

A hand snaking around your throat snapped you out of your thoughts. “Look at me while I fuck you.”

Adhering to his command, your gaze fixated on his as he pounded into you. The lust and pure ferocity in his eyes made your pussy flutter and he gripped your neck tighter to ground himself.

“You feel so fucking perfect. I knew I would have you like this since the moment I saw you. I knew you needed good fuck,” he muttered.

Your jaw fell agape in response, breathy gasps and moans leaving it as he repeatedly slammed into your g spot.

“Oh baby, you grip my dick so tight when I slam against your g spot like that. Be a good girl and cum for me,” he said.

His pace increased and the desk rocked as he helped you chase your orgasm and soon he felt your body convulse underneath his touch. His lips crashed against yours, stifling loud moans as your orgasm ripped through you like a sharp knife. He slowly pulled out and you squirted on his cock and his orange jumpsuit, your pussy practically gushing like a fountain.

“Fucking hell, you really needed this didn’t you baby? I know you did, I could see it in your eyes. How much you needed to be fucked good,” he murmured.

He wasn’t finished with you yet though. With his hand snaked around your neck, he pushed you flat onto the hard desk and thrusted harshly inside you. This time, every inch of his cock filled you up, the tight fit making you squirm underneath him.

“You can take it. You’re a good girl aren’t you?” he asked. You nodded frantically, a small pout on your lips as if begging him to move but slowly.

He began slamming into you harshly, the desk creaking underneath you and your braids that were once in a bun now lay messy framing your face as you lay on the desk at your client’s mercy. What would the officers think if they saw you like this? The public? The media? Deep down though, you didn’t care.

If anything, you’d want them to see you like this. You’d want the whole world to see Luigi fucking you like the slut you were. You’d want the world to see his hand around your neck stopping your breath as his cock practically brushed your cervix. And you’d especially want those little fan girls to see that Luigi Mangione belonged to you and you were the only girl he would be fucking.

You spread your legs even wider, giving him a clear view of your pussy as he pounded into you, the sound of squelching the best thing he had heard all those weeks being in prison.

“You’re so wet, so fucking beautiful, taking me so well,” he praised.

He lifted a foot onto the desk, angling his big cock even deeper and you knew you were about to cum again.

“Shit baby, cum with me, squirt on my cock while I cum inside you. Now,” he growled, cock throbbing inside your walls.

Your back arched from the desk as another intense orgasm took ahold of you and you squirted on his cock once more. His cum filled you up, your pussy juices spurting it out after, creating a large wet patch on his jumpsuit.

He hovered on top of you, both of you breathing heavily as the weight of the moment settled. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear, “I knew you could handle my cock. You did so well for me.”

The air between you and Luigi was still charged, though the intensity had softened into something warmer, gentler. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a clean cloth, and his movements were slow, as if he wanted to savor the quiet moment.

“Let me take care of you,” he said softly, his voice low but tender as he carefully cleaned you up. His touch was light, and when he finished, he cupped your cheek with his hand.

You looked up at him, still catching your breath, and he smiled faintly, brushing a braid behind your ear. Then, he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, the gesture so unexpected that it sent a wave of warmth straight to your chest.

“You okay?” he asked, his thumb grazing your cheek in a way that felt more intimate than anything else that had happened.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m fine.”

There was a beat of silence before you adjusted your position, sitting straighter on the desk. With a playful grin, you met his eyes. “Now,” you said, smoothing your skirt back into place, “to discuss the severity of your charges.”

Luigi chuckled, leaning back slightly but not stepping too far away. The smirk on his lips was both familiar and maddening. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

Before you could retort, he leaned back in, catching your lips in another kiss. This one was slower, softer, his hand rested on your waist, anchoring you to him, and when he finally pulled back, he whispered, “For the record, you’re even better than I imagined.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the smile on your face. “Let’s keep this professional from here on out, Mangione.”

His smirk only widened. “Whatever you say, Counselor.”

[love2much]

giggling and kicking my feet

[jjkbambi]

is it new years yet? luigi mangione x reader (18+)

summary!!! you run into ex-boyfriend!luigi mangione at a nye party! smut!

warnings: fratboy!luigi, darkfic (very much implied he slips something in ur drink), cnc?, long fic, mentions of calvin harris music, inspired by the fact that he had to nominate himself to win this category

masterlist

the new year was meant to feel different.

yet, the doors at phi kappa psi open for you and a chances of anything more seems to slim. a record number of beer cans trashed in the hallway, the kitchen buried in chaos, and the overwhelming stench of beer clings to the air, impossible to ignore. you were surprised at how easily they’d let you enter—the bouncer was known for being a bit mean, strict on names and IDS and ages and sorority associations, yet one short smile was enough to get you and your best friend, lacy, into their annual new years eve party.

there wasn’t a second break from avicii or calvin harris, the crowd bouncing with red solo cups in hand. about a dozen of drinks were spilled on you already, and you were sure this was an indicator of a good night.

“is that him?” your friend’s nudge proves your prophecy wrong. your stomach drops immediately as you turn to the direction she was staring in—and yes, there he was, shirtless and six-packed on new year’s eve, surrounded by his pack of fraternity brothers.

the world suddenly feels so much smaller. you turn quickly. “lacy, he cannot see me.”

“have you spoken since the breakup?”

“if i had, id be in classier heels,” you retort, shaking your head.

you show her the reason you’ve been off your phone so much recently. about 34 days since you’ve seen each other in person, and a stunning 78 texts and 29 missed calls left in lieu of a breakup conversation. it honestly felt like too little an amount considering how long you’d been dating, but perhaps that was the least of your relationship problems, seeing as though you’d caught him making out with another girl at a football game.

she groans. “why’d we have to come to this house?”

“free entry? fireworks?” you come up with a lie that’ll make the both of you feel better. “i honestly don’t think we’ll run into each other. it’s such a big place.”

“he’s walking over here.”

“aaand we’re moving,” you sing, dragging her into the crowd of calvin harris enjoyers. for two hours, slipping in and out of the chaos seemed to be a surefire solution in avoiding your ex-boyfriend. that is, until you turn and suddenly your best friend isn’t there. you stiffen immediately, backing into the kitchen. in that step back, you bump shoulders.

“y/n,” an all too familiar voice says.

oh for fucks sake.

you smile tightly at the sight of luigi, trying not to make this already awkward situation more awkward. he looks different than he did the last time you’d seen him. his usually short hair had grown out longer, his beard more prominent. he looks… grown.

“hey!” you say, attempting to make a swift getaway. “happy new year, man!”

“get back here.” he grabs your wrist, pulling you right back to him. “what’re you doing?”

“it’s new years!”

“what are you doing here? wearing that?”

you smile, feigning innocence. “getting a re-fill!”

luigi’s eyes were dark and his grip firm. your air of innocence is almost completely defeated at his warmth, his body leaning into you, intent. “i’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

no, you can’t do it. this was gonna be a new year for you. no setbacks, no cheating ex-boyfriends.

“i’m surprised you even noticed, with all your other distractions.”

luigi’s head tilts. “what does that mean?”

“you know what it means.” you pull away from him with as much force as possible. “seriously, lu, it’s over.”

“no, it’s not.” he argues. you shake your head as you walk away. “y/n, we’ve got to talk about this—“

“just leave me alone!” you leap out of the kitchen as soon as opportunity arrives, and pour the entirety of what’s left of your cup into your mouth. the wicked sting of alcohol had never been so relieving.

minutes pass but the sound of avicii is constant. phi kappa psi has promised fireworks and began to gather in the backyard and you want nothing more than to join in on the party—but lacy. your best friend. you need to find her. the recovery mission begins with a stumble down the hallway and a headache. it’s more than a headache, it all of a sudden feels like you reallyreallyreally need to take a nap.

“hey, hey, i’ve got you,” it’s luigi again. you can tell by his warmth and his scent and the way he grabs your hand. “where are you going?”

“lacy.”

he takes the drink out of your hand, then lifts your arms to wrap them around his neck. and suddenly, the warmth of his body isn’t so intimidating anymore. “that’s not my name.”

“i know.”

he leans in closer. “come on then, what’s my name?”

“lu,” you murmur. “i need to go.”

“you’re not going anywhere.” luigi promises you.

within a second, his lips are on yours, and suddenly his warmth is everywhere. you whimper into the kiss, trying to spell out protest but you’re too weak. “relax for me,” he tells you.

you were entirely too relaxed. any reasonable part of you wouldn’t allow for him to be this close. but before you can stop him, his hands slide down to grip your thighs, pushing them apart to accommodate him, and you gasped at the feel of his length pressing against you. he’s so hard.

“i love this dress on you,” he murmurs.

desperate, you try to push, “no, no, we need to find—”

“we’re taking care of her, too, baby, don’t worry.”

you squirmed underneath his touch, which only made the friction hotter. “what?”

he doesn’t care to tell you anything more grinding into your resistance mercilessly as his hands clamp around your hips, rocking your body back and forth on his thigh.

“you’ve got some fuckin’ nerve, you know,” he grumbles into the kiss, his voice so low and gravelly, you felt its deep tenor roll down your spine and settle in your core. every kiss he gave you was hungry and heated, and you gasp when he goes to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck. “walking around my house dressed like a fuckin’ slut. got me all worked up in front of everyone.”

you despise the helplessness that washes over you as he holds you down. tears sting at your eyes as you beg, “lu, stop.”

“pull your dress up,” he orders, drinking in your scent. his scruff scratches your skin.

“no.” you shake your head again, though his kisses are persistent. “luigi, we can’t.“

“you’re right,” luigi agrees, chuckling into another kiss. “i’m not fuckin’ sharing you.”

his lips don’t leave yours—theyre all over your lips, your cheeks, your neck, your tits—as he carries you into the nearest room, and you’re too lost in the moment to notice whether it’s his own. your dress hits the floor and his hands are all over your nude. the mix of confusion and pleasure leaves you breathless. before you can process it, you’re on the bed with your ex-boyfriend on top of you.

“you know how many other guys were looking at you tonight?” he growls as he flips you over. “swear ill fucking kill them”

he was so big and your body was so unprepared that you’d screamed, which only made luigi laugh. a choked gasp left you, and your mouth was soundlessly parted as he started to thrust into you, hips snapping against yours every time.

“fuckin’ knew it,” lu groans. your teeth sink into your lips as you tremble underneath him, his hard length relentless in its assault. “knew you’d take it f’me like this, yeah? like a good fuckin’ girl.”

the bed shook beneath you as he pounded into you. he goes to bite your neck, his curls tickling your skin. he feels so good, but the weight of how wrong it is lingers in every touch. “lu,” you moan.

“what?” he says, smug. “what d’ya wanna say?”

“it hurts,” you whine.

”i don’t care,” luigi says in your ear, grinding his cock into the depths of your cunt until you were whimpering beneath him. “you know how fuckin’ long it’s been since ive had you? no, you’ve got no clue. drove myself crazy thinking i’d never have this pretty pussy again.”

“it’s your fault—“

“shut the fuck up.” his hand comes down hard on your ass and a whimper slips from your lips. he growls low, feeling how tight you’re holding him. “you’re mine,” he grunts. “don’t you ever forget that.”

“luigi, wait,” you moan, your mind going blank. it’s too much—wrong in every way, yet too good to resist.

you feel him smirk against your neck. despite yourself, you felt your cunt clench hard around his stiff length as a flood gushes from your trembling core. he chuckles darkly, mocking your resistance. “can’t take it? too much?”

“lu, please.” your voice was embarrassingly breathless. he goes faster, which felt entirely impossible.

he must’ve heard the plea this time, because he doubled his efforts. he picked up the pace of his thrusts, fucking you hard and fast, spanking your ass mercilessly while his other hand went to massage your clit. you could hardly breathe.

“so good,” he groans. “be a good girl and cum for me, princess. all over me, come on.”

“please,” you whimper again. you’re not sure what you’re asking for, but it hardly mattered. the most devastating orgasm of your life was building deep within you, an unstoppable force growing stronger with every moment—and you were desperate to chase it.

“you’re all fucking mine,” he laments. “i wanna hear you say it.”

you couldn’t possibly. your mind goes blank as he ruts into you, pounding into your cunt and ass so hard that the clapping of his hips against your skin was filling the room and almost drowning out the sound of the new year celebration.

“tell me what i wanna hear.” he demands.

“yours,” you mewl.

“good girl.” he bit out, his mouth brushing against your cheek, his stubble rasping against your skin and making you shiver. he fucks you harder, faster, slamming into your slick cunt like he was trying to leave a mark inside you.

you couldn’t take it anymore. your pride snaps inside you and you felt liquid gush between your thighs, coating his massive cock in your cunt. pleasure consumes you until all you knew was the sensation of ecstasy drowning out everything else. he groans at the sight of your orgasm, his cock still driving into you, his thrusts turning wild and desperate as he growled in your ear.

luigi grumbled a soft, “fuck,” and then pressed deep, burying his cock deep into your still pulsing cunt as he came. he let out a long moan, his cock twitching against your inner walls while he emptied his balls into your pussy, the warmth of his cum filling you up.

“i’m so glad you came around, so glad,” he murmurs, turning you over to kiss you over and over and over again. “i love you, baby, you know that, right?”

the day after

[taelophone]

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”

[viasdiary]

☆ jerk with benefits (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ word count: 1.8k

☆ warnings: unprotected sex, smut, hate-sex dynamic

☆ conceited frat luigi clashes with a stubborn main character, but they have insane sexual chemistry.

you’d been hooking up with luigi for a few weeks now, and honestly, the more time you spent with him, the more he got under your skin. his smug smirk, his stupid one-liners—everything about him was insufferable. you couldn’t stand luigi mangione. but, god, the sex? that was the only thing that made it even remotely worth it.

it had been one of those days. everyone was getting on your nerves, you had so much fucking work to do, and quite frankly you didnt have it in you to do much of anything.

even though you were at your wits end, you still found yourself outside luigi's chapter house, your hands tucked in the pockets of your navy blue sweats. if this was what it took to relieve your stress, then so be it.

you walk up to the door and knock a couple times.

luigi answers the door and the warm afternoon light highlights the curls in his dark hair. his broad chest is on display as he stands shirtless, his grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, revealing the elastic band of his boxers.

a wide conceited grin spreads across his face as he studies you.

“just couldn't get enough of me, huh?” he teases.

“can i come in? it's fucking freezing.” you reply, unamused.

he moves out of your way as you push past him into the house.

the usual beer cans and pizza boxes are scattered in the kitchen. he walks behind you as you find your way to his room down the hall.

you enter luigi's room, the familiar scent of his cologne hitting your nose. without a word, you turn to face him, your eyes meeting his dark, intense gaze. the tension between you is palpable, a mix of contempt and visceral attraction.

luigi closes the door behind him as you take a seat on the bed, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. he sits next to you, placing his hand on your thigh.

"rough day?" he asks, his voice still as smug as ever.

you roll your eyes, not in the mood for his stupid small talk.

"shut up." you reply, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him close.

his lips press into yours, hungry and demanding. your fingers tangle in his curls as his large hands roam your body, slipping under your sweater to caress your skin, feeling your bare waist.

the kiss deepens, and you feel the stress of the day melting away. you part your lips as you pull away and whisper

“y’know, you’re so nice when you’re not fucking talking.”

luigi chuckles against your lips, his breath hot on your skin.

"and you're so much nicer when you’re not complaining," he retorts, his hands sliding down to grip your hips firmly.

you bite back a moan as he trails kisses along your jawline, down to the sensitive spot on your neck. your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging slightly as he nips at your skin. you’d been craving this all day. as much as you couldn’t stand him, the feeling of his body against yours, your lips interlocked, it all just felt so right.

your hands roam over his broad shoulders and down his muscular back as luigi's lips continue their assault on your neck. you can feel the heat building between you, your body responding to his touch despite your best efforts to resist.

"god, i fuckin' hate you," you mutter, even as you tilt your head to give him better access.

luigi chuckles against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine.

"feeling's mutual, sweetheart," he murmurs, his hands sliding under your sweater to caress your bare skin.

in one swift motion, he pulls your sweater over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. his eyes rake over your body, that cocky smirk still playing on his lips.

"but i gotta say, you look so good like this."

you roll your eyes, grabbing his face and pulling him in for another agressive kiss. your teeth clash as you kiss him roughly, pouring all your frustration and desire into it. luigi responds with equal fervor, his hands roaming your body, traveling between your shoulders and unhooking your bra, letting it fall onto the bed.

you push him down onto the bed, straddling his hips as you break the kiss. looking down at him, you can't help but admire how good he looks - his curls mussed, lips swollen, eyes dark with lust.

"shut up and fuck me already," you say impatiently, grinding down against him.

luigi's hands grip your waist tightly, his hips bucking up to meet yours.

"so demanding," he teases, but there's a strain in his voice that betrays his own need.

in one fluid motion, he flips you over, pinning you beneath him. his weight presses you into the mattress as

his lips crash into yours once more, hungry and insistent. his hands roam your body, caressing and teasing as he grinds against you. the friction sends waves of pleasure through you, making you arch into him.

luigi's mouth trails down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. you know he's leaving marks, but you're too far gone to care. his lips move lower, kissing along your collarbone and down to your breasts. when his mouth closes around your nipple, you can't hold back the moan that escapes you.

"fuck, luigi," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his curls.

you feel him smirk against your skin before he switches to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. his hand slides down your stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of your sweats. when his fingers brush against your sensitive core, you gasp and arch into his touch. luigi groans against your skin, feeling how ready you are for him.

"so wet for me already," he murmurs, his voice low and gentle. "and you say you hate me."

you tug sharply on his hair in retaliation, eliciting a groan from him.

"i already told you- just fuck me already," you demand breathlessly.

luigi doesn't need to be told twice. he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your sweats and underwear, pulling them down in one swift motion. as you kick them off, he begins to remove his own sweatpants, his erection springing free.

he settles back between your legs, teasing your wet cunt with the tip of his cock. you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, but he resists.

"tell me how much you fuckin' want me, how much you need me” luigi breathes against your ear, his voice husky with desire.

you groan in frustration, digging your nails into his back.

"fuck you," you spit out, even as your hips move upwards, seeking friction.

he chuckles darkly. "that's the idea, amore. but i wanna hear you say it."

his teasing is maddening, the tip of his cock sliding through your wet folds but never quite entering you. you're so wound up, so desperate for release, that you're willing to swallow your pride - just this once.

"fine," you sigh, your voice thick with need. "i want you. i need you inside me right fucking now. happy?"

luigi's smirk widens. "ecstatic," he taunts, and in one smooth thrust, he buries himself deep inside you.

you both groan at the sensation, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. he stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his forehead resting against yours. then he starts to move, setting a relentless pace that has you gasping and clawing at his muscular back.

the room fills with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by your moans and luigi's grunts. he angles his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper with each thrust.

"fuck, you feel so good baby," luigi groans against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. his pace quickens, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

you're lost in the sensations - the fullness of him inside you, the friction of his body against yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne mixed with sweat. as much as you hate to admit it, no one else has ever made you feel this good. him stretching you open like this is hard to manage.

“luigi, it‘s too much,” you whine, feeling him deep inside you. but even as you say it, your body betrays you, arching into him, craving more.

he exhales heavily, his lips brushing your ear.

"i don’t fuckin' care." his hips snap forward, driving into you harder. "i think you can take more, amore. i think you want more."

you bite back a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. but god, he feels so good inside you, filling you completely. your nails dig into his back as you feel the tension building inside you, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your core.

luigi's hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles. he has you gasping, your hips moving wildly against him as you cry out his name desperately.

"i thought you wanted this, baby. thought you needed me to fuck you."

his words, combined with the torturously slow drag of his cock inside you, make you whimper. you're so close, teetering on the edge of pleasure so intense it's almost painful.

"i do," you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. "don't stop. please, luigi, i'm so close."

he continues relentlessly, picking up the pace once more, his fingers still roughly moving against your clit. the added stimulation has you arching off the bed, a cry of pleasure ripping from your throat.

"that's it," luigi encourages, his voice strained with his own approaching climax. "cum for me, amore. let me feel you."

his words push you over the edge. your orgasm crashes over you in waves of intense pleasure, your body shuddering beneath him as you cry out his name. your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper.

luigi groans, his hips moving erratically as your climax triggers his own. he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing as he finishes. you feel the warmth of his release filling you, prolonging your own pleasure.

for a moment, you both lie there, panting and intertwined. luigi's weight presses you into the mattress, his face buried in the crook of your neck. you can feel his heart racing against your chest, matching your own rapid heartbeat.

finally, luigi lifts his head, meeting your gaze with that stupid smirk of his.

"still hate me?"

[kelloggsenthusiast]

if you're reading this - luigi mangione x reader

just want to let you all know that all the accusations made against this and are just that- accusations

innocent until proven guilty beyond reasonable doubt

(not beta read)

he had been caught.

that's all you had been seeing all day. his pictures all over social media and the news, some demonising him and calling him a terrorist, others calling him a hero. you were just confused. three weeks ago, he just up and left your shared apartment without so much as an explanation. you wished you knew better but you couldn't explain it. you loved him and you thought he lived you right back. he was so sweet and doting and attentive to you, even if he hadn't been the same since the accident.

the accident... it had dimmed his light significantly. he couldn't hike or climb or do the things he once loved, being too financially and physically incapacitated to do it, and that's when you noticed his shift. you'd been seeing each other for some years, even talking about the idea of marriage before the accident happened. after it, though, it's like a switch flipped. he came to stay with you while he was covering his medical bills and you could see up close how it changed him. he became distant from you and obsessed with a lot of socialist literature, reading while he wasn't working. his parents and family called you several times because he had effectively stopped speaking to anyone since then. he was different and it was difficult for you to watch what had become of him now that...

you were on your way home from a long day at work, only made longer by seeing your boyfriends face everywhere. you had to turn off the radio because of all the news reports every few seconds. you couldn't believe it, but at the same time, you could. he had an implicitly calloused way of handling things that you'd always said would land him in prison. little did you know, it was literally landing him in prison. the health care system, after all, killed your childhood best friend and left him disabled and in debt. he was the one who just went to go and make his grievances known.

upon your arrival at your apartment, you headed straight for his desk and flipped through all the papers and manuscripts, reading through his detailed notes and excerpts from books and studies. then you saw it. a letter, starting with the words: if you're reading this, they got me. and I'm sorry.

your heart lurched when you saw those words and you didn't even realise that tears were running down your face. you continued reading thr note in his familiar messy handwriting, sharp and thin lettering you recognised as his.

I'm so sorry. I know I've been abandoning you and our relationship. I've been abandoning everyone. but I can't just deal with this pain any longer, and I can't bear to see you suffer because of something neither of us could have predicted. I've cleared the medical debts and paid for the apartment for the next three months. you're free now. and I want you to use that freedom to find happiness beyond me. I love you. but I know I won't be there for you much from jail. you've always been headstrong and intelligent, so I hope you'll understand why I chose to do what I did. I'm truly, truly sorry. I hope you can forgive me. and more importantly, I hope you can find happiness beyond me. I love you.

a short something for all of you. prayers for all of you in the states, I never knew it was this bad. if ceo's were popped as often as kids in school, gun control would be a thing. once again, free luigi. he didn't do anything wrong. - saïe

[italianbabydaddy]

On repeat

[aishabellasbigblogofeverything]

Well not all of these screenshots are from the Black girls subreddit. Some of these comments are from men. And some are from VindictaRateCelebs which, like Blackgirls, only allows female commenters but it doesn’t exclude non-Black women from participating.

Regardless of race, seeing women as a collective lust over this man is equal parts astronomically comical and sad. And the worst part is, it’s not just women. It’s men, too.

The hybristophilia really needs to stop. Y’all would never thirst over a POC this way. Fuck off with your “fuck capitalism” bull. A Black man or woman who killed the CEO wouldn’t even be alive anymore.

Motherfuckers are really out here lusting after Luigi Mangione??? Why??? He’s not that attractive! Maybe it’s just bc I’m a lesbian idk but I don’t see it. Apparently Reddit would tell me otherwise because just take a look at this preposterous shit:

Y’all are disturbing as all hell. Get help, and some self-respect while you’re at it, too. Please. 🙄

[wowitsverycool]

most fascinating types of liberals are the ones who right now are saying "joe biden PLEEAAASSEEE pardon luigi mangione. mr daddy biden you're SO woke and cool PLEASE pardon my Revolutionary Violence Pookie" like how do you get to the point of realizing that killing a ceo is good and necessary while still thinking that joe biden would ever in ten million years be your ally

[possiblyunhinged]

The mere mention of identity politics makes everyone’s spine stiffen—left, right, middle, whatever. Both sides argue that the other’s gripes are unfounded. Very helpful. Very progressive. Very… Twitter.

Much like the word "woke," identity politics has been kidnapped, beaten up by the right, dressed in clown shoes, and paraded around as a cautionary tale. The left, naturally, responds by shrieking louder, flailing its arms, and punching itself in the face. But here’s the kicker: you can’t understand systemic prejudice without looking through the lens of identity. Equally, looking at it without understanding how capitalism sustains that oppression is just as nonsensical.

Take Luigi Mangione. Some left-leaning commentators have decided he’s only being fawned over because he’s a handsome white guy. Sure, fair. Privilege is a hell of a drug. And let’s be honest—if he looked like Boris Johnson, would my friends and I be sharing pictures of him in that cunty orange jumpsuit? Absolutely not.

But let’s not skip over the fact that this might also be the first time in decades that people have collectively agreed the U.S. healthcare system is more criminal than your average cartel. Mangione’s case has sparked wider conversations about how shamelessly the media and politicians protect their billionaire donors—while the rest of us have to grin and bear the cost-of-living crisis and the slow-motion collapse of our quality of life. Elon Musk, for example, isn’t worried about solving world hunger—unless it’s the million children he’s fathered out of wedlock. Very traditional. Much man.

This is one of those rare moments when class consciousness kicked down the door, barged into the conversation, and shouted: “Where have you been, dickheads?” And we should be listening. Classism is the vessel of systemic prejudice. It’s the golden goose that keeps laying eggs for the rich while the rest of us scramble over the shells.

Mangione’s privilege? Sure, it’s skewing the narrative—no denying that. But suggesting it’s the only reason people empathise with him is reductive at best and utterly clueless at worst. Maybe folks are just sick of billionaires treating us like extras in their dystopian fanfiction. Just a thought.

In the UK, the top 20% owns 63% of the country’s wealth, while the bottom 20% owns a paltry 0.5%. That’s not even enough to fill a trolley at Lidl. And yet, middle-class progressives sip their oat lattes and wax lyrical about privilege as if they aren’t sitting on a cushy safety net. I was born into a working-class family that fell into poverty when I was ten. Watching white, middle-class folks treat identity politics like gospel while ignoring class is like watching someone lecture you on drowning while standing in a lifeboat.

Classism is why kids from disadvantaged backgrounds are 19 months behind their peers by the time they finish school. It’s why 3.6 million children lived in absolute poverty last year. And it’s why those problems remain immovable—because fixing them would mean looking in the mirror. And let’s face it, blaming the "other" is much easier than self-reflection.

Dreaming of abolishing capitalism in the UK feels delusional. Especially when billionaires like Elon Musk are playing the world’s loudest violin, painting progressivism as socialism to protect their wallets. Musk isn’t doing this because he’s a genius. He’s doing it because he’s a hollow man with a God complex and unresolved daddy issues. But I digress.

Capitalism thrives on division. Nothing oils the machine faster than convincing us to turn on each other. And look, I get it—understanding identity-based oppression is vital. But when it devolves into a pissy shouting match? It’s just white noise. No learning. No change. Just people screaming into the void.

Surviving as a working-class person in a capitalist economy is engineered to break you. Now add some self-important pundit on telly wagging their finger at you for not being progressive enough. What do you get? Rage. Exhaustion. Division. If I hadn’t been so socially disconnected from the kids I grew up with—thanks, undiagnosed autism—I might’ve followed the same far-right pipeline they did. Why? Because they had fuck-all, and society kept telling them they were the problem.

My single mum didn’t have time to be an activist. She was too busy working three jobs, clutching her mental health by the throat, and keeping a roof over our heads. That exhaustion is the whole point. The system is designed to keep you too knackered to fight back.

You can’t separate identity struggles from class struggles. But ignoring class entirely? That’s how we end up here, with riots in the streets and Farage clones stoking the flames. Those riots weren’t populated by middle-class Foxes or Robinsons. They were predominantly white, working-class people. Why? Because class disparities breed discontent, and that discontent gets weaponised by the rich to keep us fighting each other instead of them. It’s the oldest trick in the book.

If we addressed class disparities—if we dragged billionaires kicking and screaming out of politics—it’d become painfully clear how class has been the boot on everyone’s neck. Instead, we squabble and point fingers while the top 1% buys up everything, including your grandma’s bungalow. This is no accident.

Politicians haven’t failed us. They’ve done exactly what they were built to do: oppress the majority, enrich the ruling class, and keep the boot shiny. By cutting class consciousness out of discussions on racism, sexism, and transphobia, we’re missing the plot.

[raekensluver]

I have never needed a man as much as I have needed Luigi mangione he's my boy he's my man he's my husband he's my baby daddy he's the love of my life

I just know he's so articulate and tasteful and a gentleman and RAILS YOU GOOD

this isn't an ask just want to thank you for doing gods work with these fanfics🛐🛐🛐

i'm glad you enjoy!!!

[jjkbambi]

Okay but please please need more content with psychonaut Luigi. Finding out he follows Erowid and takes hallucinogens/dissociatives just did it for me and I can totally see him obsessively texting cand/or becoming handsy during a trip

yk how ppl say sex while ur high is literally the best you’ll ever have. he’ll definitely want to try it out w his favorite girl <333

[satanicpanic420]

ugh there's a shirt that says "but daddy i love him!" with a pic of luigi mangione on it that i really want to buy but i don't want to give money to some trendy print on demand store making profit off of my boy's incarceration while none of the funds go to him

[viasdiary]

☆ i'm yours (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ word count: 2.4k

☆ warnings: slightly toxic, smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, not really proofread

☆ after taking a break from each other, you decide you should make it permanent. you invite luigi over to break up with him but he's got something else in mind.

luigi was so wrong for you, but you couldn't get enough of him. even after you'd broken up and gotten back together time and time again, you'd always end up back with him. this time was different though. you'd found someone to take your mind off of luigi, someone who made you feel so good about yourself. you were finally ready to let him go.

sitting on the couch in your living room, you pick up your phone and call luigi. he picks up after the first ring.

“hey what’s up,” he says, aiming to sound nonchalant but miserably falling short. he sounded like he'd been longing to hear you so badly.

“hey lu,” you say, feeling a pang of intense guilt. he has absolutely no idea what’s coming next.

“i’ve been meaning to uh-” you begin to say, before realizing you just don't have the heart to break up with him over the phone.

"why don't you come over tonight?" you suggest, your voice softer now, as if you’re bracing yourself for the weight of the words. "there’s something i’ve been meaning to talk to you about”

“uh yeah, i can probably be over in about an hour”

you nod, even though he can't see you. your fingers grip the phone a little tighter, and you press your lips together, trying to steady your breathing.

"okay, yea. i'll be here," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

the call ends before you can say anything else, and the sudden silence in the room feels almost suffocating. you stare at the screen of your phone, the echo of luigi’s voice still lingering in your ears. an hour.

you sit there for a moment, trying to gather yourself. you fidget with the hem of your sweater anxiously. the weight of what you’re about to do presses down on you, and you wonder if you’re making a mistake. but deep down, you know this is the right thing. you’ve been holding on for too long, and it’s time to let go.

the clock on the wall ticks louder than usual as the minutes slip by, each one pulling you closer to the moment when you’ll have to look him in the eyes and finally say the words. the words you’ve been avoiding, the ones that will end everything.

you stand up, pacing the small space of your living room bathed in the amber glow of the sunset shining through your window. you're not sure what to do with your hands, or your mind for that matter. the thought of luigi showing up here, of seeing him and feeling that familiar pull, makes your stomach twist. it’s always been like this—he’s always been like this. he’ll look at you with those wide brown eyes, and you’ll almost forget why you need to let go.

but you can’t forget. not this time.

the doorbell rings, pulling you back to reality. your heart skips a beat as you take a deep breath, walking toward the door. you hesitate for a moment before pulling it open, the sight of him standing there in a navy sweater and baggy jeans, his dark curls slightly disheveled, still somehow perfect in his own way—makes everything inside you ache.

"hey," he says softly, his voice carrying that familiar warmth, but there's something different now. he doesn’t know it yet, but things are about to change forever.

you open the door wider, stepping aside to let him in. "come on in."

as he steps over the threshold, you brace yourself. this is it.

before you can open your mouth, his hand finds its way beneath your chin, slightly tilting your head upwards as he plants his lips onto yours. you melt into the kiss, placing your hands against his chest as he pulls you closer, and for a moment, you forget everything. the warmth of his touch, the familiar scent of his cologne, the way his body fits perfectly against yours—it all comes rushing back, threatening to sweep away your resolve.

but then you remember why he's here, why you called him over. with a sharp intake of breath, you pull away, gently pushing against his chest. luigi looks at you, confused.

"what's wrong?" he asks, his hand still lingering on your waist.

you step back, creating some distance between you. the space feels charged, heavy with unspoken words.

"lu, we need to talk," you say, your voice steadier than you feel.

his thick eyebrows furrow, and you can see the concern etched across his face. "okay," he says slowly, following you as you lead him to the couch.

you sit down, leaving a little space between the two of you, and you just let it all out.

“i don't think this is gonna work for us anymore. i’ve been talking to someone else and i've kinda just had some realizations about us and i think we've outgrown this.”

its impossible to read his face as you continue speaking.

“i care a lot about you and i'd love to stay friends, maybe even-”

before you can finish he interrupts you with a soft chuckle.

“you think you're gonna sit me down and kick me to the curb? yea, that’s just not how tonight's gonna go.”

you feel a chill run down your spine at his words, his tone shifting from the warmth you're used to into something colder. your heart begins to race as you realize this isn't going the way you planned.

"luigi, please," you start, but he cuts you off again.

"no, you listen to me," he says, leaning in closer. his eyes, usually so soft and inviting, now hold a glint that makes you want to shrink away. "we've been through this before. you think you want to leave, but you always come back. always."

you shake your head, trying to find your voice. "this time is different. i've changed, we’ve changed"

"changed?" luigi scoffs, his hand suddenly gripping your arm. "you haven't changed. you're still the same person who needs me, who loves me. you're just confused right now. you know you fucking love me.”

your gaze shifts to his lips, pressed into a hard line, and then to his strong jawline.

you want so badly to tell him he's wrong, but he's not. you still love him, and as he's sitting on your couch next to you and as you look at his handsome face, you know exactly why you chose him.

you feel your resolve weakening, your carefully planned words crumbling under the intensity of his gaze. luigi's grip on your arm loosens slightly, his thumb now tracing small circles on your skin. the familiar touch sends shivers through you.

"i..." you start, but the words catch in your throat. you want to tell him he's wrong, that you've moved on, but the lie won't come.

luigi leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "tell me you don't love me," he whispers, his lips barely grazing your ear. "look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want this."

you turn to face him, your noses almost touching. his brown eyes are full of anger, hurt, and desire. you open your mouth to speak, to end this once and for all, but no sound comes out.

instead, you find yourself leaning into him, your lips meeting his in a desperate, passionate kiss. your hands tangle in his curls as he pulls you closer, erasing any remaining space between you. the familiar electricity of his touch ignites something within you, and for a moment, all your doubts and reservations melt away.

but as quickly as it began, reality comes crashing back. you break away, gasping for air, your mind reeling. "no," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. "no, we can't do this."

luigi's eyes flash with a mix of triumph and frustration. "we already are," he says, his voice low and intense. "you can't deny what's between us. you never could." 

he places his hand behind your neck and pulls you close again, his lips brushing yours. you melt into him. god, you missed him so much, his touch, his voice, his body. with every movement of his lips, every stroke of his hand, he was righting his wrongs. his hand trails up your thigh, pushing up your skirt. 

the way he touches you feels so nice, and your body responds against your will. his fingers trace patterns on your skin, sending shivers through you. as his hand snakes higher up your leg, you feel an aching need for him.

he breaks the kiss as he gently pulls you onto his lap, his hands planted firmly on your thighs as he places kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

“you’re so perfect for me.” he says, barely a whisper.

“and i know i’m perfect for you too,” he continues, his eyes scanning your face as he says it. he looks so beautiful like this. the golden light of the sunset bathing him in an amber glow, shining through his curls and making his dark brown eyes shimmer.

he finds the hem of your sweater and slowly slips underneath.  he runs his large hands across your bare skin skin.

as he begins to lift your sweater, the realization of what's happening hits you, and you place your hands on his chest, prepared to push away from him, but you can't. you hate that he feels so good. you hate that you want him so badly.

you lean forward and kiss him, hard. luigi moans against your lips, and you can feel his erection straining against his jeans.

you break the kiss and begin to lift his sweater, running your free hand over his abs, eager to feel his bare skin against yours. he helps you get his sweater off, and then reaches for your sweater. in one swift movement, he pulls it off, tossing it aside. he pauses, his gaze raking over your exposed skin, before leaning in and planting a kiss on your collarbone.

he cups your breast and starts sucking on it. you bite your lip, trying not to moan.

he stops and looks up at you, his eyes burning with desire. 

"god, i've missed this," he breathes.

"i missed you" you admit breathlessly.

you run your fingers through his soft, dark curls, the smell of his cologne intoxicating you as you move yourself back and forth slowly, rubbing yourself along his leg. the thin fabric of your underwear begins to dampen, and the friction only heightens your desire.

you lean in and kiss him, the taste of his tongue in your mouth making you shudder with pleasure. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, the feel of his skin against yours is unreal.

luigi slides his hands up and down your thighs as his mouth finds the delicate skin on the side of your neck.

"look at you, so fucking impatient. riding my leg to get yourself off" he says against your skin.

"he's not fucking you right, is he?" he whispers, his hand creeping under your skirt and finding the wet spot in your panties.

"no," you admit.

"that's too bad," he says, sliding his fingers under the edge of your panties and brushing them against your clit.

you gasp at his touch, grinding yourself against him.

your hips buck at the contact, and you let out a small moan.

"you're fucking soaked for me," he breathes, slipping a finger inside of you.

"luigi, please," you beg, grinding against his hand.

he adds a second finger, and you moan, arching your back and pressing yourself against him.

"god, look at you," he whispers, his voice thick with lust.

"i know he doesn't make you fuckin' sound like this" he says, more intensely this time.

"please luigi, just fuck me."

"not yet." he says, continuing to finger you and using his thumb to rub circles on your clit.

"lu," you whine, squirming and bucking your hips.

"so fuckin' needy," he says, a smirk spreading across his face.

you whimper, biting your lip and grabbing his shoulder, desperately clinging to him.

he keeps working his fingers, and you can feel your orgasm building. you can barely breathe, the feeling of his fingers inside you is so intense.

"fuck, lu," you pant, your nails digging into his skin.

he speeds up his pace, and you can feel your orgasm approaching.

"lu, i'm so fucking close," you say, the words slightly catching in your throat as he sends you over the edge.

you cry out, the sensation overwhelming you. he holds you close, kissing you as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

you rest your head on his shoulder, panting and trying to catch your breath.

"i'm not fuckin' done with you yet." luigi says, gently pushing you off his lap and back onto the couch.

he stands up, and you watch as he unbuckles his belt, pulls off his jeans and boxers, freeing his thick cock. you lick your lips, taking in the sight of him.

he sits back down, and you crawl onto his lap, straddling him. he takes himself in his hand, stroking his length and guiding himself inside of you.

"oh god," you moan, feeling him stretch you.

"that's right," he breathes, his voice low and husky.

he begins to thrust into you, and the feeling is incredible. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his hair and breathing in his scent.

"fuck," he groans, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls you onto him.

you feel the pressure building again, the heat in the pit of your stomach growing with each thrust.

"lu," you whimper, the sensation almost too much to bear.

"tell me," he says, his voice strained. "tell me how much you fucking miss this."

"i miss this so much," you say, your breath ragged.

"tell me," he pants, his rhythm getting faster and more erratic. "tell me you want this, tell me you need this."

"i need this, lu, fuck, i need you," you moan, the heat in your stomach growing.

"say it," he demands, his voice tight and strained.

"i'm yours, lu, i'm fucking yours," you cry, the pressure becoming unbearable.

he moves mercilessly, and with every thrust you feel him stretching you out, your slick spreading up and down his cock. he grabs your ass firmly with both hands, moving you up and down roughly, the lewd sound of skin on skin filling the room.

"where do you want it, baby?"

"fuck, please cum in me" you beg, your legs wrapping around his torso as he continues using you, roughly gripping your ass as he fucks you.

"good fuckin' girl. want me to fuck a baby into you, huh?" he says breathlessly. luigi groans deeply, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts up into you one final time. you feel him pulsing inside you as he finishes, filling you with his warmth. you come undone, the intensity of the orgasm tearing through you.

he buries his face in your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he releases inside you. you both sit there, breathing heavily, holding onto each other.

he lifts his head and gazes into your eyes, a smile playing at his lips.

"i guess this means i'm not getting rid of you, huh?"