#real person FICTION

[rpfshippingpolls]

⚠️ DON’T START DISCOURSE ABOUT RPF IN THE NOTES!! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF YOU DO SO ⚠️

Do you ship it?

Reason:

[fullpenguincupcake]

Nobody ever talks about this pic and it's crazy.

For more Luigi, fanfic and romance stuff: see here. New Luigi lovely story here & here

[very-uncorrect]

Edit: I've muted this post because apparently it reached some sort of higher plane of existence and is getting a shit ton of likes and reblogs and it's clogging up my notifs lol

[alienfagz]

sometimes shipping real people isnt even RPF. sometimes its just having eyes

[jjkbambi]

boy next door luigi mangione x reader (18+)

summary!!! (((smut)))) your roommate luigi wants to help you get over your breakup.

warnings: long fic so we’re starting off with fluff, smutty and rough, blowjob, head pushing and hair-pulling and choking on it bc y/n is #real, p in this v fr, Tie, jealous-ish?, (is in the kitchen public?), he’s very talkative, daddy and his good girl <333

^^ unedited and im a procrastinator

you still haven’t gotten luigi the secret santa gift. with the end of december closing in, all the other $25-and-under gifts sit neatly wrapped beside the tabletop tree. by friendsmas standards, you’re embarrassingly late.

but it was hard!!! he spent most of his time tucked away in his room, the door always cracked just enough to remind you he wasn’t entirely gone. you’d catch glimpses of him hunched over his desk, surrounded by books and papers scrawled with notes you couldn’t begin to understand. he never started conversations, only speaking up to correct you or drop some fact that left you feeling both impressed and annoyed.

it was so desperate you tried the campus bookstore, staring helplessly at the rows of penn merch to no avail. he already seemed to own everything—hoodies, mugs, even a pennant on his door. a gift card felt impersonal, but anything else felt like a gamble.

“good morning,” you hum, stepping into his room. luigi’s snaps his head up, standing shirtless by his closet, scrambling to pull on a sweater. for someone who barely left the house, the sight of his six-pack catches you completely off guard.

“what do you want?” he asks, voice gruff.

you lean against his wall. “do you prefer american or chinese food?”

he huffs out a laugh before leaning onto his blackwood desk. “what, are you taking me out on a date?”

“no, no, no, your secret santa asked me to ask you.” you lie. “they also asked if you wear a size medium or large.”

“don’t worry, i can’t make it to movie night,” he says casually. your lips immediately drop into a frown. it was the annual tradition in the house—a night where all five roommates came together to watch a terrible holiday movie and exchange department store gifts. he couldn’t miss it. “i’ve got a mandatory frat event,” he adds with a shrug. “apparently, it’s not optional this time. i’m surprised your boyfriend didn’t tell you about it.”

you feel yourself dull at the mention of him. “we’re on a break.”

luigi raises an eyebrow. “a break, huh? didn’t see that one coming.” his tone is neutral, but there’s a flicker of something underneath. “what made it happen?”

you shrug, avoiding the conversation.

luigi’s expression softens, his gaze shifting to something a little more concerned. he takes a small step closer, his voice quieter now. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you weren’t, and it was overtly obvious. luigi stands over you, his tall frame leaning closer, his warmth wrapping around you like a quiet embrace. “i thought i heard you say you were done with all that fraternity nonsense,” you say, remembering the times he complained to your roommates about the tumultuous nights and endless responsibilities waiting for him at the phi kappa psi house. it’s strange to picture your boyfriend in that world now.

“you’re nosy,” he says.

“you specifically told my boyfriend it was a huge waste of money.”

“ex-boyfriend.”

“we’re on a break!” you emphasize, eyes narrowing. “plus, it sounds like you’re just trying to get out of secret santa.”

luigi leans in slightly, his voice lowering, teasing. “and it sounds like you’re getting me a gift card.”

you can’t help but laugh, the tension between you both shifting into something lighter, something that felt just a little too comfortable. “alright fine,” you say, accepting defeat. “secret’s out. what is it you want?”

he pauses, studying you for a moment, the faintest smirk curling at his lips. “what do i want?” he murmurs, his voice low, as if weighing the question. hesteps a bit closer, just enough to make the space between you feel charged. “i don’t know, what are you willing to give me?”

you flush under his gaze, unsure of what to make of this moment. you have a boyfriend—yet you’re ninety percent sure luigi is flirting with you, and about a hundred percent sure you’re liking it.

the warmth in your chest is both unsettling and familiar, a confusing mix of guilt and something else you can’t quite place. you try to shake it off, but the way he looks at you lingers in your thoughts, pulling at you in ways you didn’t expect.

he seems entertained by your befuddlement, his eyes lingering on yours in a way that makes you second-guess yourself. he looks away, breaking the moment with a soft chuckle, then turns to leave.

“i’ll see you,” he says, but it’s not casual. it’s something else, something that makes you wonder if he’s looking forward to seeing you again as much as you are him.

you bring yourself back to reality, forcing your mind to settle. you can’t flirt with him. it would upset the house dynamic, intrude on your peaceful living space—you cannot let that happen. you shouldn’t. you were on a break from your boyfriend, a small pause in something that still felt important. and soon enough, you’d be back together, just like you always were.

as much as his presence lingers in your thoughts, you remind yourself of the needed boundaries, the reasons why things can’t get blurred.

still, as you continue baking cookies, dodging glitter explosions, and downing soju bottles, his absence nags at you, a quiet reminder that you’re trying not to want something that might never be.

“you’re still awake.” luigi’s voice cuts through the quiet kitchen, startling you so much that you nearly drop the piece of ribbon you’re holding. you whirl around, clutching your chest, only to find him much closer than you’d expected—close enough that you have to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” he says as you try to shake off the way your pulse seems to have kicked off into overdrive. “you’re not tired?”

“not yet.” you shake your head. “the party didn’t exhaust you?”

“it did.” he says, exhaling. “figured i’d check if i’m eating american or chinese tomorrow before i hit the hay.”

you pretend like you’re offended. “i’d never get you something so thoughtless.”

you grab a gray glittery gift bag and toss it his way. his teasing falters for a second, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “a tie?”

“yeah, you’re always dressed fancy, going fancy places…” you say, brushing the glitter off your hands, suddenly feeling self-conscious. was it the wrong choice? did fancypants mcgee only wear silk imported from asia? “you don’t like it?”

“no,” he says quickly, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint smile. “it’s sweet.”

you glance at him, unsure what to say, and his smirk softens into something else, something warmer. he steps closer, the space between you narrowing just enough to make your breath catch.

“guess i’ll have to step up my game,” he says, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “didn’t realize you were paying attention.”

you blink, caught off guard, scrambling to come up with something, but before you can, he leans back, breaking the tension with a chuckle. “looks like you could use some help.”

“you don’t have to.”

“i want to,” he replies, tossing the ribbon into the trash before grabbing the broom from the corner. “besides, i can’t have you using this tie to guilt-trip me later.”

“it’s weird having you be so nice to me,” you blurt out the words before you can realize the reprussions. his dark brown eyes glance up at you, eyebrows pinched together.

the regret is immediate. “i just mean we’ve never really talked before.”

luigi looks at you, his expression shifting slightly. “was that my choice or yours?”

you blink, caught off guard. you’d always assumed it was mutual. “well, that’s not really the point,” you say, trying to brush it off. “we’re friends now, right?”

his dark eyes shift away from yours for a moment, but only to return with even more intensity, holding you in place, freezing you in the moment. your heart stutters in your chest. “i was never interested in being your friend.”

“oh.” the word feels hollow as it leaves your mouth, and you instantly feel your face go pale. you scramble for something to say, anything to make the moment feel less heavy, but the silence hangs between you, thick and unrelenting.

“that’s not what i meant—“

“it’s fine of course, you don’t have to—”

“no.”

he shakes his head and runs up to you, closing the moment of confusion with an abrupt force—his mouth is on yours, tongue slipping past your lips and sliding into you.

whether it was the warmth of the kiss, his big hands groping your body, or the fact that this was just all so irredeemably wrong—you didn’t know—but the rush you got from being with him left you dizzy and dazed and desperate.

luigi laughs into your kiss. “you’re so fuckin’ eager.”

you should be reasonable. you shouldn’t be doing this, this is a mistake. “sorry, i—”

“no, don’t be sorry,” he says, smiling into another sloppy kiss. it felt so tender, so loving, when he takes you into your arms. reason flies out the window. “i want you, too.”

“luigi,” you whimper into his lips, not recognizing the desperation in your voice.

“i’ll give it to you baby, don’t worry,” he hums.

your fingers rush to unbutton your top, half-way done before luigi realizes what you’re doing and he grabs you. “keep your clothes on. i don’t need you naked to make you cum.”

he’s so strong and forward and unlike anything you’ve ever had before. in one swift motion, he turns you over, pressed against the kitchen counter as he slides his warm hand down your silk shorts and cradles your tit with the other.

“you put these on for me, didn’t you?” he tugs your lace panties, pressing them against your hot cunt. your back arches at the sensation and you feel his cock hard underneath his jeans.

“luigi.” you whimper, barely breathing.

“admit it,” he says, in between licking and kissing and biting the nape of your neck, sure to leave marks. “you wore these for me, didn’t you? wanted me to take your mind off that fuckin’ asshole, hm? wanted me to take care of you?”

you swell underneath him, shaking. he grinds his straining cock against your plump ass as he works your pussy, groaning into your neck.

“oh, baby, is that too much for you already?” luigi’s breath is hot against your neck, hands busy rubbing your clit and pinching your delicate nipple.

you felt like you couldn’t breathe. the expression on luigi’s face is smug. “you haven’t even had my cock yet, look at you.”

he brings his wet fingers up to your lips, then shoves them into your mouth without permission. you can’t help but shudder underneath his wicked touch. “yeah.” he laughs. “squirm like that, slut.”

“lu,” you pant. “i want it.”

“no, not yet,” he says, rubbing his hard big cock against your clothed ass. “see how hard i am for you? see how worked up you got me?”

“yes,” you whimper, fingers still in your mouth.

“get on your knees,” luigi grunts. “show me how much you need it.”

you needed it more than anything. dropping down to your knees, you notice a spot on his jeans wet with precum. he’s straining for you. you try to get as much of your mouth on him as you can as soon as his bottoms are off, desperate to show him how good you are.

“you’re so pretty like this,” luigi murmurs as you try to fill your mouth with his entirety. seeing that you’re struggling, he puts his hand on the back of your head and guides you down onto it. “such a good girl.”

he rocks hip forward deep into your warmth, using your face. “choke on it.” he orders. and you do. your eyes tear up at the feeling of his length touching the back of your throat. “god, you’re so fuckin’ filthy.”

before you can breathe, luigi pulls himself out of your mouth and barks out another order, “put your hands up against the wall.”

you do as you’re told. your core aches like it misses his touch. pulling your shorts down, he groans at the sight of your wetness, driving his big cock inside of you.

“slipped in so easy with your spit all over me,” he whispers in your ear. god, he’s driving you fucking crazy. the pleasure is almost overwhelming as he leans down, forces your chin back to bring your lips together, a sloppy, loving kiss.

“i knew you were gonna be like this,” he purrs into you, sucking and biting.

“like what?”

“like a fuckin’ slut.” luigi grumbles. he grabs something off the counter, and you don’t know what’s happening until you feel the silk material fasten around your wrists. the tie.

“luigi.” you gasp.

“i’ve been waiting to get my fuckin’ hands on you.”

you shiver at the confession. “really?”

he groans as he watches your ass ripple against his hips—at how easy and soft and weak you were at his mercy. he melts at the sight of you, using your binded wrists to buck deeper into you. you moan and whimper and scream on the force—he’s so harsh, so mean, so good—you’ve never even dreamt of a pleasure like this.

“listen to you.” he buries himself so deep inside you that you could feel his balls pressed against your ass. “you’re fuckin’ loud when you’re getting treated right, aren’t you?”

“please, daddy,” you whine, completely out of your mind.

luigi groans, pushing your head into the kitchen counter. “god, i didn’t think you were gonna call me that,” he rumbles, rocking his cock hard into your frothing core, rubbing against your clit and sending sparks of pleasure swirling through your body.

he pulls your hair back again, causing you to shriek. “didn’t call him that, did you?” he says it like a statement, leaving no room for correction. “god, i used to jerk myself off listening to you moan. wondering if you were riding him or bent over your fuckin’ mattress.“

“luigi.” you cry.

“always knew i could treat you better,” he growls. “always wanted to bend you over in front of everyone and make you beg for it.”

“i would’ve let you,” you mewl out, helpless.

“yeah?”

“you’re s’good.”

his thrusts come faster, more frantic. “better than him?”

“yes!”

you’re so close and so needy. your mind glows white as he fucks into you. squirming underneath him, the friction of your frantic movements growing hotter as the both of you chase your high. “good girl,” he praises, kissing all over your neck and back. “cream all over daddy’s cock, baby.”

“luigi,” you moan as your orgasm gushes beneath him, shivering as you feel his cock quiver, his load shooting deep into your cunt. he grunts with his final thrust, whimpering your name.

he kisses your shoulder as he pulls out of you. “so good,” he pants, just as helpless and shaken as you were. he unties the present you’d given him and pulls you in for another kiss.

“luigi,” you sigh against his lips.

“pretty girl,” he whispers back, running his hot wet kisses across your lips, your cheeks, your neck. “let me take you out tomorrow, yeah? a proper date. i’ll wear my tie ��nd everything.”

you laugh—a mix of disbelief and something else—something lighter. before you can say anything, he’s leaning in again, kissing you softly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“it was a good gift, right?” you hum.

“yeah,” he agrees, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk. “versatile.”

MASTERLIST send requests and leave feedback :3

[pedroscurls]

secret crushes (one-shot)

summary: you've known hugh for years, having not only a personal friendship with him, but also a professional one. then, ryan decides to play matchmaker unbeknownst to you or hugh. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 4.5k warnings: this is complete filth bc how can you not look at that first photo and just be fine??? anyway - porn with little plot, unprotected p in v, public beach sex, seated cowgirl, oral - m receiving, light dirty talk, no use of y/n. a/n: this is for the anon who requested this spicy idea! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did writing it. i haven't opened up my requests since 2017 (i think), but ya know, that might change after this lol. i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman! this is purely fictional.

“All expenses paid,” you hear Ryan say over the phone. “You deserve a vacation. Even Blake agrees.”

“Ryan, no,” you protest, beginning to clean up your small coffee shop for the day. When you opened your own coffee shop so many years ago, you didn’t expect that not only would it be great business, but that you’d be very close friends with Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman. 

“Oh, come on!” he says. “When was the last time you took time for yourself, hm?” 

There’s a silence that engulfs the two of you.

Before you can even speak, Ryan chimes in. “Exactly. You’ll have your own hotel room. You don’t have to spend the entire trip with us, though, we will be hurt if you don’t hang out with us, and–” he teases. 

“Okay, fine! Fine,” you huff. “I’m sure after Deadpool & Wolverine, you need some time for you and your family too.”

“Yeah,” Ryan replies. “I feel like I can be a good dad now.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “You’ve always been a good dad.”

“Eh,” he chuckles. “So, we’ll see you at the airport this weekend?”

“Sure.”

“Actually, we’re going to pick you up.” Ryan decides. “That way, I know for sure you’ll be coming with us.”

“God, you’re annoying!” you laugh. “Fine. I’ll see you and the family this Friday night. After I close up.”

“No, no. We’re leaving in the morning. Your coffee shop will be fine.”

“I know, it’s just–” you sigh, resting the phone between your ear and shoulder as you rearrange the bags of coffee on the display. Your mind drifts momentarily when you see the Laughing Man coffee beans, thinking about Hugh. “Nevermind.” 

“You think too much,” Ryan points out then his voice turns serious for a moment. “You’ll be okay. Your shop will be okay. In the time we’ve known you – Hugh and I – you’ve always been working, busting your ass.”

“I know,” you then move your gaze to the amount of photographs on your wall behind the counter. They are photographs that you’ve taken, candid ones of your employees, landscape portraits of the trips you’ve taken to find the best coffee beans, even personal photos of you and your family and friends, including Hugh, Ryan, and Blake. 

“So…” he says. “Pick you up Friday morning?” 

“Yes, Ryan. You can pick me up Friday morning. You’re very convincing, do you know that? You just never quit until you get your way.” 

“What can I say? I’m very persuasive.” He chuckles. “Okay, I’ll see you Friday. Have a good rest of your week. Call me if you need anything.” 

“I’m sure I’ll see you and Hugh before then,” you tease. “At this rate, all this free coffee I give you does amount to a free trip.”

“Exactly! Talk to you later.” 

—

You hadn’t spoken to Hugh in weeks, knowing that he and Ryan had been doing constant press conferences and interviews after Deadpool & Wolverine came out. You’d never admit it to either of them, but you did go out to watch the movie and it only fueled the crush that you had on Hugh. Especially that final scene. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t go home that night with thoughts filled of him. Shirtless and glistening. It was rather inappropriate, really. Not only did you and Hugh start out as friends, but you also had a partnership with him where he sells his brand of coffee at your coffee shop and takes a cut of what the sales make. It’s worked for years now and you never really looked at him in a way that was more than a friend or partner. You knew he was good looking, so sweet and funny, but it wasn’t until months after his divorce that you started to look at him differently. You had to wonder if he looked at you the same way because you started to notice how often he would come by when you were closing up to help you clean, or how his gaze on you would linger, his touches seemingly becoming more and more less friendly and more intimate. 

You’re already on the plane with Ryan, Blake, and the rest of their family. It never felt like you were the odd one out. Both Ryan and Blake always made you feel like you were part of their family. There were plenty of times where you and Hugh would babysit Ryan and Blake’s children while they were busy and always, they’d ask for Uncle Hugh to sing songs from The Greatest Showman. You were always right there next to him, singing and performing alongside him to entertain the kids. 

When you moved to New York, it was a big leap of faith. It wasn’t always easy, but Hugh, Ryan, and Blake made you feel less alone when there were times you weren’t sure you were ever going to make it out here. Now, you can’t even think of leaving New York. It has become your home. These people… They have become your family. 

You look up from your notebook to see Blake and Ryan staring at you, both with big grins on their faces. You can tell they were hiding something, so you shut your notebook and point at them.

“Okay, spill.”

Ryan feigns a gasp, palms raising up in surrender. “Can’t my beautiful wife and I stare at you lovingly?” 

Blake lets out a quiet laugh and rolls her eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“You’re both really bad liars,” you point out. “What is it? Why are you both smiling at me like that?”

“We’re just happy that you’re finally taking some time to yourself,” Blake replies, moving to sit next to you. 

“You’re much more convincing than your husband,” you say loud enough for Ryan to hear.

“I take offense to that,” Ryan says. 

Blake turns to you and looks down at your notebook, tilting her head in amusement. “Even away from your coffee shop, all you can think about is how to improve it. Don’t you ever stop working?” 

“Never,” you laugh, opening your notebook for her to look through. “Fall is right around the corner, so I’m just thinking of a few specialty drinks that I can introduce for a limited time. I hear pumpkin spice is very popular.”

You and Blake stare at each other and then erupt into a fit of laughter, both of you shaking your heads. “Can you promise me one thing on this trip?” she asks.

“I can try.” 

“Try to have some fun, don’t think so much about work. It’ll be there when you get back. We’re in Hawaii for two weeks. Just–” Blake shrugs. “Be open and let loose.” 

You arch an eyebrow. “I feel like there’s a hidden meaning there somewhere.”

“Oh, there is!” Ryan nods, a grin lining his lips. “Or is there?” 

“The both of you,” you shake your head. “Are ridiculous.”

“Ah, but you love us,” Blake grins. 

“Unfortunately,” you tease. “But okay, I’ll do my best. No work. No thinking about work. I’ll try and focus on being in the present.” 

“Maybe you can meditate,” Ryan calls out. “You know, Hugh swears by it.” 

Hugh. The mere mention of his name makes your heart flutter and you subconsciously bite your lower lip. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Blake who tries to bite back a smile. 

“Yeah, maybe.” You stand up and then motion towards the bathroom, excusing yourself from both Blake, Ryan, and their kids. 

Blake then turns to Ryan and grins. She whispers very quietly. “I think it’s going to work.” 

“I sure hope so. Neither of them have any clue what we’re trying to do.” 

“You’ve seen it. I’ve seen it. They’re the only ones who haven’t seen it,” Blake says. 

“Oh, Hugh’s seen it,” Ryan winks. 

Blake chuckles. “Well, let’s see how this trip goes.”

“If it all goes well, they’ll be leaving together,” Ryan replies. 

—

You’ve been in Hawaii for three days now. You’ve possibly spent every moment with Ryan and his family since arriving. You didn’t mind though. Being in their company helped keep your mind away from work, away from the responsibilities that await you at home, away from Hugh. Today, though, Ryan and Blake want to spend the day at a secluded beach to allow their kids to roam free and have fun without worrying about possible paparazzi. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, dressed in a deep blue bikini set – a halter triangle top tied at the base of your neck and back, and a cheeky bottom with side ties that rest on the side of your hips – with a white, long sleeve cover-up. You take a few pictures of yourself, wanting to send it to Hugh or even post it on social media, but you don’t. Instead, you turn off your phone and set it inside your bag before you leave your room to meet Ryan and the family. 

Throughout the entire ride to the island, Ryan and Blake can’t keep their eyes off of you. You busy yourself, though, with playing with their kids, hearing their laughter fill the car. You can tell they’re excited, jumping up and down in their seats as they talk amongst one another about the things they’ll do once they get to the beach. 

It isn’t until you all arrive at the beach and climb out that you notice another car in the lot. Ryan had mentioned before that it would just be his family and you, so you had to wonder if maybe he had gotten something wrong along the way of planning this. But if you were concerned about it, he certainly didn’t show it himself. Instead, he climbs out of the car and grabs the kids’ bags from the trunk before he and Blake motion for you to follow them onto the beach. Your toes hit the sand as you slide your sunglasses on your face. You tell Ryan and Blake that you’ll be at a distance, allowing them at least some time to spend with their kids without you and it gives you enough time to try and meditate. Maybe it will work, you tell yourself. 

You don’t see anyone else nearby and you’re at a good distance from Ryan and Blake, so you set down your towel and bag, removing your cover-up and sunglasses. You make sure to reapply more sunscreen before you walk towards the water. It’s cold and it causes a shiver to run down your spine, so you force yourself to dive in to get acclimated to the temperature of the water. 

The beach had always calmed you down, kept you grounded. It was one of the reasons why you had been so hesitant to leave your hometown of California. From one side of the coast to another. Once you come back up, you run your hands through your wet hair, slicking it back away from your face as you stand, the water only reaching your upper thighs. When you open your eyes, though, your jaw drops. 

Hugh is within a few arms reach as his eyes meet yours. The surprise look on his face tells you all that you need to know. 

He had no idea you would be here.

And neither did you. 

You can’t help but let your eyes take in his frame. His broad chest, water trickling down his frame, disappearing into the waistband of his black board shorts. He’s pulling his shorts up just a bit, but it gives you a good view of the v-cut he has and immediately, you’re aware of the feeling between your legs.

But just like you’re checking him out, Hugh’s also allowing his eyes to roam over your frame. The bikini you’re wearing is so tiny and tight around your frame. He tries to tell himself not to get excited at the mere sight of you, but it’s hard. He’s getting hard, so he does his best to think of other things that could lessen his excitement. 

Since his divorce, Hugh had taken comfort in your presence. What started out as a friendship turned partnership had blossomed into something else. Surely, you felt it too. Or at least that’s what he told himself. 

“Hello, you,” he calls out. 

The both of you begin walking towards each other, meeting in the middle as the waves crash around you. 

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” you say softly. Out of instinct, you reach out to give him a hug, warms snaking around his shoulders. This feels good, hugging him like this feels fucking great. You feel his hard chest and hair against you. He’s so wet, so slick and you just want to–

“I think Ryan may have forgotten to tell us both,” Hugh says, voice deep and husky against your ear as his arms wrap around your waist. Hugh shuts his eyes as he feels your breasts against him, his fingertips resting just above your backside and he feels his manhood stir awake. 

Quickly, Hugh pulls away, slowly lowering himself in the water to cover the growing erection between his legs and also to keep some distance between your bodies. You do the same, swimming further into the water as you both continue to float. 

“And Blake,” you add. “You think it was intentional? You ask, turning to look over your shoulder to see both Ryan and Blake staring at the both of you. 

Hugh looks over at them and lets out a quiet chuckle. “Dunno,” he answers. “But I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Me too,” you blush, heat rising in your cheeks. “How long– How long have you been here?”

“Three days.”

“Those fuckers,” you chuckle. “They totally set this up.”

Hugh laughs alongside you and tilts his head in amusement. He watches you closely, seeing you gnaw at your lower lip nervously (it’s something he’s noticed about you very early on). You bring your hand up to stroke your hair back away from your face and Hugh can’t help but smile to himself. He likes you. Really likes you and he knows that he shouldn’t act on it, knows that there should be some boundary, but he can’t help himself. 

“You nervous?” he asks quietly. 

“What?” you answer, looking up at him. “No…”

“You’re doin’ that thing you do,” Hugh points out. He gently reaches out and runs the pad of his thumb along your lower lip, causing you to release it between your teeth. 

“What thing?” 

“You know what thing,” he chuckles, slowly swimming closer to you. “You bite your lower lip a lot when you get nervous or when you’re deep in thought. So, you’re either nervous or you’re thinkin’ about somethin’. Which is it?”

“Neither,” you lie. 

Hugh narrows his eyes slowly and drags his thumb at the center of your lower lip and down to your chin until he hooks it in his grasp. “Now, I know you’re not someone who lies,” he begins, moving his thumb across your jawline. “Don’t tell me you’re lying now.”

“I’m both,” you blurt out, leaning against his touch. “I’m nervous and I’m thinking about something.”

“You’re always thinking about something,” Hugh points out. “Do I…” he asks hesitantly and drops his hand back into the water. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Right now you are.”

“Why?” 

“Because…” you whisper, looking deeply into his eyes. “One, we’re both basically half naked.”

“We’re at a beach,” he says with a small smile. “We’re in our bathing suits.”

“Half naked,” you correct. “And two, you’re just–” you stop yourself and drop your eyes to his lips then back up to gaze into his eyes. You then remember what Blake told you. Try to have some fun. Be open. Let loose. Now, you understand exactly what she meant by that. So, you let out a shaky breath and continue. “You’re just so fucking hot, Hugh, and yes, you’re making me nervous because you’re literally shirtless and wet, and you’re muscular and it’s just–”

Hugh’s laughter interrupts your rambling. You notice the way his nose crinkles upwards when the laughter comes deep within the pit of his stomach. Suddenly, you’re very aware that you just made a fool out of yourself and you gently shove him. 

“It’s not funny! You asked and so I told you. I was being honest!” 

“I’m not–” he sighs, his laughter dying down. “I’m not laughing at you, baby.” The term slips past his lips so effortlessly and he reaches out from underneath the water to grab a hold of your hip, pulling you to him. “I’m laughing because you think I’m hot to a point that you’re stuttering over your words. Have you seen yourself?” The smile remains on his lips and his thumb begins to rub circles at your hip. “Because if anyone should be nervous, it’s me.”

“You?” 

“Oh, come on,” he says. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that I’ve got the biggest crush on ya.” 

“Wait, you what?” your eyes slightly widen in surprise, but you can’t help the way your stomach flips in excitement. 

“I’ve got a crush on ya,” he whispers. “And I shouldn’t even be having crushes at this age,” Hugh chuckles nervously. “But I do. I like you.”

“You’re not joking?”

“Why would I be joking?”

“Because you can have literally anyone you want and–”

“I want you.” Hugh says, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. “Do you want me to?” 

“More than you fucking know, Hugh.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your lips against him. You sigh against him moving your legs to wrap around his waist underneath the water as you move your lips against his own. 

Hugh growls against you, both hands moving to your hips as he leans further into you, tilting his head to get a better angle of your lips. He didn’t realize this was how his trip was going to go. After Ryan convinced him to take some time off, especially after the success of their movie together, he was hesitant. He didn’t want to take time off. He was used to being busy, especially after his divorce, but Hugh had only agreed to come on the trip to figure out his feelings for you. 

He just didn’t realize that you’d be here too. 

In the distance, you and Hugh can hear a faint clapping and hollering. You both pull away to look over at the noise and see Blake, Ryan, and their kids jump up in excitement, cheering for the both of you. You see them wave in your direction before they begin to grab their things, making their way back to the parking lot. You then look at Hugh and gaze into his eyes.

“Are they leaving us? Leaving me?” You ask. 

“I can take you back,” Hugh says softly. 

You bite your lower lip and nod. “Only if it isn’t–”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if our hotel rooms are right next to each other,” Hugh chuckles, slowly then moving his hands down as he grasps your backside in his large hands, pulling you flush against him. His gaze darkens as he stares into your eyes. He thinks maybe he might have moved too fast, but when you roll your hips against him, he knows exactly what’s going to happen next. 

You want him just as bad as he does. 

“Hugh,” you whisper, voice laced with desire. “Please.” 

“Tell me, baby.”

“I need you.” You bury your face in the side of his neck and gently nip at his skin, feeling his hands move under you, his long fingers brushing against your core as it causes you to gasp. 

Hugh’s painfully hard against his board shorts and he lets out a low groan when he feels your teeth scrape against the skin at his neck. He feels you squirming against him, moaning into his ear and he has to pull away briefly to look into your eyes. 

“Are you sure?”

“If I have to say please one more time…”

“I don’t mind hearin’ you beg,” he winks. “Come on.” Hugh leads you out of the water and towards his towel in a much more secluded area. You drift from him for a moment to grab your things before following him, watching him lay out his towel before he takes a seat on it, legs spread wide. 

You bite your lower lip and lay out your towel in front of him, dropping to your knees as you crawl towards him until you're seated on your knees between his legs. “We won’t get in trouble, will we?”

Hugh shrugs, reaching down to cup your cheek. “Don’t think so. Ryan made sure that no one but us should be here and–”

“That’s good enough for me.” You lean down and move your hands to the waistband of his board shorts. He’s dripping wet from the water and you can see the outline of his length perfectly due to his shorts sticking to him. You hook your fingers into the waistband and slowly pull it down enough to see his length spring free. Hugh lets out a low groan of relief and reaches behind you to undo the knot at the base of your neck. Once loose, he watches your top fall open to reveal your breasts. He doesn’t have enough time to take in your newly exposed chest because your hand wraps around his base, soft lips grazing the head of his manhood. 

“Ah, baby,” he growls, moving a hand to your shoulder, gripping it tightly as your mouth wraps around his tip. Hugh shuts his eyes and tosses his head back, moving one hand to rest on the towel while the other remains on your shoulder. 

You look up at him, feeling an immediate possessiveness wash over you. He looks so beautiful like this, eyes shut, chest heaving, and at your mercy. 

You begin to stroke his base as your tongue swirls around his tip, lapping at his precum. His groans slowly become louder as you lower your head to take more of him, stroking his base when you realize you can’t take him whole. He’s larger than you expected, girthy and long, and it excites you. As you continue to stroke him in time with sucking his length, you feel Hugh’s hand move from your shoulder to the back of your head as his hips slightly lift itself. He pushes himself further into your mouth, feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat repeatedly. 

“Fuck,” he moans, eyes opening to look down at you. God, Hugh can just come at the sight of you. Tears slightly stinging the corners of your eyes and your mouth stuffed full of him. What a beautiful fucking sight, he thinks.

Slowly, Hugh has to pull away from you because he feels the pit of his stomach tightening, searching for release. He lets out a low growl that reverberates through his chest and you lean up on your knees, licking your lips. Hugh reaches out for you and pulls you on his lap, hurriedly moving your bikini bottom to the side. He grasps his manhood and runs his tip along your length, feeling your wetness coat him with each movement.

“You’re wet for me?” he asks, eyes staring up at you. 

“Only for you.” you reply, eyes fluttering as you feel his tip slowly push into you. He releases his hold on his length and rests his hand on your hip, leaning down to press soft kisses against your chest before he moves onto a breast, flicking his tongue against your nipple repeatedly before he wraps his lips around it. 

You let out a loud moan, moving your hands to his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself onto him, your walls tight and wet sliding down his cock. You feel so full of him and he’s not yet fully in the hilt. The stretch is almost painful, but you’re so wet and throbbing that you have to stop yourself from slamming down onto him. 

“Oh god, Hugh,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders as you move along his length, not yet allowing him to fill you to the hilt as your walls begin to make way for him. 

Hugh moves his lips to your other breast, eyes staring up at you. He wants more of you, needs more of you so he slowly lifts his hips, inching further within your depths. 

“Shit,” he groans, watching as his cock disappears into you completely. Hugh’s hands rest over your hips as you pull him closer to you, chests pressed against one another as you slowly roll your hips against his. “So fucking tight, baby,” he whispers against you, forehead resting on yours. 

“You’re–” you gasp, feeling his hair at the base brush against your clit as you continue your movements. “So big,” you moan, eyes falling shut. 

Hugh gently pecks your lips and takes a hold of your hips to guide you along his length. He watches you reach for his cowboy hat, placing it on top of your head and Hugh has to force himself to hold back his release. 

“You’re so hot,” he moans, allowing you to take control of your movements. Hugh can’t help the way your walls tighten around his cock – you’re so warm and wet, so inviting and tight. He knows he’s close, but he can’t– he can’t finish without you finishing first. 

“Baby,” Hugh whimpers, holding you flush against him in a tight grip. “Don’t– Fuck, baby, don’t move.” 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, hands moving to link at the base of his neck. “You can come, Hugh.”

“No,” he shakes his head, losing his resolve as your hips move forward and backward slowly. “You have to be first– Shit…”

“This won’t be the only time,” you say reassuringly, lightly pecking his lips. You then increase your movements, hips moving forward and backward at a faster pace. Hugh’s so deep in this position and you know you’re close, but you’re determined to have Hugh finish before you. 

“Sweetheart,” Hugh grunts. “Baby, I’m–” His eyes flutter shut as he lets out a loud groan, mouth slightly agape as his fingertips dig almost painfully into your hips. His release shoots inside of you, painting your walls as his manhood throbs within your depths. 

He’s still half hard and you take this moment to begin bouncing along his length, using your hand to reach down between you to rub your clit and Hugh’s eyes narrow. He pushes your hand away and rubs your clit with his thumb in a circular motion. 

Hugh feels possessive and almost animalistic at the sight of you using him to get yourself off. He can feel your walls begin to tremble and he’s still a bit sensitive, but you just feel so fucking good. 

“Come on, baby,” he coos, applying pressure to your clit. “I know you’re there. Come for me, sweetheart.”

That’s all it took. Your walls tighten around his length as your body trembles against him. Hugh moves his hand to wrap his arms around your waist, leaning up to press his lips against yours. He’s still inside of you, his length softening as the moment passes. 

You move your lips lazily against his, heavy breaths passing through the both of you as Hugh pulls back slowly. “Wanna head back to the hotel?” he grins. 

“Oh, hell yeah.” 

[redroses07]

Luigi Mangione x Fiance!Reader

W/C: 1.2k

Summary: You see your fiance on the news, but not for anything good. You argue, and then you fuck.

Warnings: Smut 18+, Minors DNI, fingering, unprotected PinV sex (please use a condom irl), Dom/Sub, smut with feelings, arguing, mention of murder (duh), violence (also duh), swearing, mention of blood, kinda hurt comfort, angst, kinda a crackfic.

A/N: For legal reasons, THIS IS A JOKE. (if you know me irl, no you don't.) Idk y'all, this idea just came to me, and I'll probably be put on a list for this but yk, yolo. Anyways! Enjoy, and lmk in the comments if you want a part two with more angst. Love you guys!

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you mutter as you see the news banner. Written in bold capital letters.

‘UNITED HEALTHCARE CEO BRIAN THOMPSON ASSASSINATED BY UNKNOWN MASKED MAN’

A blurry CCTV image pictured a man in a green hoodie. His face was partially masked, but his eyes were still visible.

Your stomach dropped…you would recognize those eyes anywhere

‘he actually did it, that fucking idiot’, You thought to yourself.

You scrambled to find your phone, debating if making a call would consider you an accomplice in court.

You didn’t give a fuck.

You opened your phone, clicking on the only name you had pinned. Your heart rate increased with every ring.

Dial tone.

“Shit.” Your hands shook as you held back tears.

You faced cardiac arrest as your phone began to ring, the name ‘Luigi’ appearing at the top.

“Luigi, you fucking idiot they have you on the news.” You whispered, even if you were alone you couldn’t risk anyone overhearing.

You could hear his heavy breathing through the phone.

"Don't worry, I did what I had to." His usually calm voice was laced with anger.

"Where the hell are you?"

"Don't worry about that. I'll be home soon." He hung up on you.

You shouted in anger and you flung your phone across the room. Plopping down on the couch, you let your head fall into your shaky hands.

You kept your eyes locked on the door, continuing to curse under your breath. Praying that it would soon open, and the man you loved would walk through unharmed.

Someone, somewhere, must have heard your pleas because several minutes later Luigi came flying through the door. Out of breath, he wiped the sweat from his brow. He had a horrified look in his eyes, rightfully so.

You wasted no time, springing from your seat and rushing towards him. Taking his face in your hands you inspected him for any injuries, thankful for less than a scratch.

"Baby I'm fine." He took your hand in his, moving it away from his face.

"Well, yeah physically. But are we going to ignore the fact that you're now a fucking fugitive?" You shouted, refusing to hold back your anger.

"You don't understand. He fucking deserved it."

You pulled away from him, walking to the other side of the room.

"I'm not saying he didn't. but they're gonna catch you eventually, and then what?"

"I guess I'll go to jail. Sometimes these things have to be done. Violence has to be fought with violence."

Tears welled in your eyes, but they were no longer fearful. They were tears of rage.

"Are you serious?" You threw your hands up in the air.

"This is bigger than us, I want things to change for everyone." He took a few steps toward you, eyes not leaving you.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do if you're in jail? I fucking love you, Luigi. I understand what you're trying to do, but what if I'm not ready to make those sacrifices." Your voice was broken.

Luigi was silent. Staring at you with glassy eyes, and you could tell he was holding back tears as well.

You went back to your place on the couch, beginning to cry. You hid your face, tears falling into your sweaty palms.

After several moments alone, you felt a strong arm wrap around your body. Luigi pulled you into him, your cold skin pressed against his warm chest.

"I'm sorry." From the sound of it, Luigi was crying along with you.

"Hey, look at me." Lugi placed his hand under your chin, lifting your gaze.

"No matter what happens, I swear on my fucking life that I will find my way back to you." He didn't stutter, he didn't falter. He was the most honest man you knew, and his words gave you hope.

His lips crashed against yours, pulling you into a passionate kiss. It was as if it was the last time your lips would ever meet, and perhaps it was.

He pulled you even closer to him, and you wished for your bodies to melt into each other. Your hands found his hair, tugging at his loose curls. You let out a small moan. Luigi bit your lip, and the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth.

A pair of warm hands pressed themselves against your torso, tightly gripping your skin. Your lips disconnected for only a moment as your shirt was removed, your bra along with it.

You were pushed back against the couch cushion, Luigi's lips exploring your body. You took the opportunity to pull his shirt off, exposing his toned abs.

Before you knew it, your shorts and panties were gone. What had started out as an argument, had turned into the complete opposite.

Luigi sat up, examining you with a loving gaze.

"You're so beautiful." He said before diving into another kiss.

Your tongues tangled together, as Luigi applied pressure to your sensitive clit. You let out a low moan.

Luigi let out a deep laugh, before plunging two fingers into your aching core. You arched your back, unable to take the wave of pleasure that washed over you.

"You like that?" He whispered in your ear. His deep voice made you wetter than you already were; if that was even possible.

Luigi sucked and moaned against your skin as he worked. Your orgasm was approaching faster than normal.

"Fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna.." You panted.

"Shhh, it's okay baby, cum for me." His free hand comes up to caress your face.

You ride out your orgasm with his fingers still inside of you, and before you know it; he is removing his belt and pants.

It's a blur, and his cock is inside of you. He's pumping in and out of you, slow but not too slow. A passionate type of slow. You had never felt so loved during sex until you met Luigi. Intimacy meant more to him than just pleasure, it was an act of love.

He laced your fingers together as he continued to fuck you, and you had never felt closer to him than you did at this moment. No one but the two of you, and the sounds of your moans.

"I fucking love you." It was the hundredth time he'd said it in the past hour, but it felt the same every time.

Luigi released himself inside of you and collapsed on your chest. He pulled out, his cum leaking from your cunt.

He continued to litter kisses on your skin, whispering praises between each one.

"We'll get through this." He whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

You did your best to push your troubles to the back of your mind. As for now, being with him was all that mattered. however, you never knew when it would be the last time.

[burnforyou]

DUNE - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! riding luigi and making him read his book to you. the glasses stay on during sex!

the pleasant warmth of your shared bed held you two close together. but not close enough for him to notice your hand lowering under the sheets, reaching into your underwear. your fingers caressed your warm folds silently and slowly.

your head rolled back onto the pillow, your own fingers sending waves of pleasure crashing up your spine. your eyes gazed upwards to look at his face. to your distaste, he wasn't paying any attention to you. he was still buried in his book.

dune... what could be so interesting about dune?

he furrows his eyebrows a bit as his focused eyes run along the pages under his glasses, the words consuming all of his attention. he wets his fingers on his tongue before flipping the page and you slip one finger into your warmth, letting out a sigh of pleasure. he didn't notice, or he didn't even acknowledge you touching yourself under the blanket next to him.

"lu," you purr, running your other hand up his bicep.

"hm?" he slips out through tight lips, still not taking his eyes off his book.

you abandon your pleasure and sit up next to him, tucking your legs underneath you. your hand traces the shape of his shoulder and comes up to cup his ear and you lean into his ear, your breath warm against his skin.

his skin flushes a deep red, heat trickling down his body.

"I want you." you whisper. he freezes, his eyes finally leaving the book page. you feel his chest cautiously rise and fall.

you swing your legs around his waist and his wide eyes (his glasses make his eyes just a bit bigger) fall down to where you’re sat on top of him. you feel his cock start to harden against you.

he bites his lip so hard it looks painful.

you push his chin up and force him to look into your eyes. you match his gaze with a hard one. his adams apple bobs and his pupils were so large his eyes were almost completely black.

his eyebrows come together pathetically.

"you've been ignoring me and i don’t appreciate that.”

“what? i’m sorry…” his breath trails off when you start grinding on him. "i-“ he stutters. "i was reading."

“hm, i know baby.” you press your hands on his collarbones and rock your hips on his, careful to not make the book, still resting on his chest, fall.

his hips stutter into you, and his head rubs upon your clit. he whines at the contact. anticipation grew in him. he wanted to let you control him, but he also wanted to flip you over and rut into you.

you lift your hips off of him to reach into his boxers. you push the fabric off his cock and it twitches in your hand.

"o-oh, baby," he whines at your hand gripping around his girth. "I want it."

"I know you do." you stroke his face with your other hand.

you spit on his cock and his hands find your hips, hard but gentle. you bring your spit up and down his length with the goal of getting him wet to fuck you.

"please." he thrusts his hips up into your hand and the pink tip pokes through.

you bring your hips up once again, aligning his tip with your entrance.

"pick up your book."

he marks the page he left off on carefully and goes to throw it on the bed beside you, but you stop him.

"open it."

he furrows his eyebrows.

"open it?" he questions.

"open it to the page you're on and read to me."

"w- what?" his cheeks flush.

"you heard me."

"but I cant see you over the book...?"

"open the book luigi."

he finally opens the book up and you sink down a bit more, letting the head in you.

"fuck," he groans quietly, his eyes struggling to stay open.

"read it to me."

"the most gentle of pressures to distort.." he trails off when you sink completely down on him, your pussy stretching to swallow him whole. "oh fuck," he gasps, his jaw slack. you both gasp in unison.

"keep reading." you demand, pushing all your weight down on him with your hips.

"to distort the lines—a turn of the wrist, another turn, a sliding twist of the palm across the surface." he struggles, pleasure filling his voice. his chest rises and falls hard.

every time you sunk down on him hard waves of pleasure burned through him.

his hands trembled, making the words on the page blurry in front of him.

"mmm, there ya go."

"s- she felt the click." his words turn into a moan when you stop bouncing on him and start grinding all on him, tracing shapes with your hips. his cock hits completely new parts of you.

"that's it," he whines, completely forgetting about the book.

you stop moving and he whines again.

"read." your voice comes out sultry.

"but there was hurrying," you move your hips forward on him again and his voice comes out strained, "footsteps in the- oh."

you put your arms back on his thighs and bounced on it again, arching your back and tilting your head back. he gets a view of your tips bouncing over the pages each time you rose, and then fell back down on him.

"in the hall beneath her," you grope one of your tits, "shit," his eyes flicker between the page and you.

"mmph, just like that. y/n, mm.."

you don't even tell him to keep reading, too lost in pleasure, too lost in the feeling of his cock in you. you enjoy making him feel like putty beneath you.

your moans and skin slapping fills the room.

"Jessica lifted her hand" moan "from the door," moan "turned," moan "saw Mapes come to the foot of the stairs." he draws out, his breathing labored.

"oh yeah?" you say teasingly, not focused on what he's reading, just focused on his dick.

your juices cover him, dripping down all over his hard thighs.

he brings his knees up and sharply thrusts up into you, sending you down onto his chest.

"oh!" you shriek, making his book fall as you grasp onto his shoulders. you feel his muscles moving under your hands. his thighs slap against your ass and you just let him rut into you desperately.

"oh, lu," your head goes completely fuzzy. his cock hits the sensitive part of you with each thrust.

you two breathe hard together, your breath hot on his face. he doesn't know whether to look at your face, or your tits bouncing right in front of him, or your pussy taking him. he looks up at you with such desperation in his face. his glasses begin to fog up as you breathe hard and fill the room with your heat.

"you're so beautiful." he growls. he's nearing the edge and he knows it.

you move your hips back to meet his and he tilts his head back in response. his thrusts grow more erratic and out of control. you grip onto him harder.

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna cum." he mutters. fire pools in your lower stomach as you watch and feel him. he twitches inside you, pulsing with need.

"you're gonna cum? cum for me." he follows your instructions.

you move your hips back impossibly harder and his hot cum fills you, sending you over the edge as well. his eyes roll back and you moan in unison.

shockwaves ripple through you as you tremble on him, your toes curling by his sides.

he smiles lazily up at you, book forgotten.

MASTERLIST - PREV. WORK

@strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @btcowboy @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood @webanglikethat @croucify @cumdnmp @ga33y3 @zeervzn @marzipanlvr @seesaw-it @raekensluver @ddlydevotion @hujirose @darleneslane @babydollfacedangel @withloveforlu @mxdnvghts @strawbxrryaxolotyl @bricapellan16

[mrsmangi]

past life - luigi mangione

♡ summary: luigi has never dreamed, but one night he finds you—familiar in a way he can't fathom. the dream of you blurs reality and fiction, leaving him yearning for more. ♡ w.c.: 1.6k ♡ a/n: hi. this is my first luigi fic. i was inspired by the post of luigi that has been going around about how moles are where your past lovers have once kissed you. i had to write something about it. enjoy!

—

Luigi does not dream. It’s a strange phenomena to him–one that draws his lower lip between his teeth and nibbles until the taste of blood floods his mouth. His friends are always telling him about their dreams: ones that are frightening, some exhilarating, others that are lustful. Dreams are illogical, irrational, and confusing.

There has never been an instance in Luigi’s life that he has been inherently ungrateful that dreams do not come to him in his slumber. He has other things to focus on: school, his family, his friends. Plenty of things keep him busy on a day-to-day business. Dreams are no fuss, but even he has to admit: when his friends are recalling their dreams to him, with stars in their eyes, he wonders if he’s missing out on something. That’s what bothers him.

He ponders it for hours at a time. Why doesn’t he dream? When he sleeps, why is he pulled into a vast pit of nothingness? He’s done his research, but it all just points him to the same direction: difficulty sleeping properly. But how? He’s done everything right: he gets 8 hours of sleep a day, wakes up in the morning without trouble, and feels properly rested each time. What is he missing?

Lack of REM sleep and fucked memory recollection just can’t be it.

Remembering your dreams can’t be distilled down to a science, but there are some tips you can try–

“Bullshit,” he groans tiredly, tilting his head back and dragging a hand down his face. With a sigh, he shuts his laptop and begins to prepare himself for bed. In the shower, it annoys him. As he brushes his teeth, gazing at his face, it annoys him. When he’s finally beneath the warm sheets of his bed, he is exasperated. As he falls asleep that night, Luigi’s thoughts drift into a thoughtless abyss and sleep overcomes him.

–

Something shifts that night in Luigi’s slumber. He can feel it in his bones, in his head that pulses with pain. He lets out an uncomfortable noise, shifting in bed. He suddenly becomes aware of the bed he’s in: one that doesn’t feel like his own.

There’s a soft linen beneath him, the kind he can’t imagine buying because it’s too expensive to afford, but somehow there it is. The smell of the sheets is faint, not entirely familiar, but not unpleasant. A little floral and musk, like the lingering scent of perfume.

The bed creaks and he feels himself stiffen. There’s someone beside him.

He wants to open his eyes, but his body won’t allow him. He really wishes it would because there’s a stranger in his bed (or is this his bed?). He feels the soft pressure of their arm against his own and hears the soft hum of their breath.

“Luigi.”

The sound of it is so clear, like a bell ringing out, and he realizes, even in his paralyzed state, it sounds different on this stranger’s lips than it ever has on anyone else’s. It’s quiet. It’s intimate. A tenderness he’s never quite known. If he could, he thinks he would laugh, but all he does is pause, stunned to a place that rests between awe and disbelief.

He’s dreaming. This is finally it. He’s dreaming and he knows it.

The air is thick around him, heavy with silence until they break it once more.

“Luigi,” they repeat, this time a bit louder, more insistent. It sounds like a girl. Her voice is warm and soft and so close–he feels like he could lean into her and let himself fall.

His eyes finally flutter open.

The first thing he sees is your smile. You’re looking at him with a calm, knowing expression. The sunlight catches your eyes as it slips through the cracks of your curtains. The room is bathed in the early morning light, the kind that makes everything look softer and unreal.

As he drinks in your appearance, Luigi is sure he’s never met you before. Your skin glows in the slanted light, a golden stripe drapes across half your face down to your bare neck.

It’s the oddest thing. He doesn’t question any of it as your smile softens and grows. The kind of smile he could never find himself deserving of, but somehow he’s found it anyway. Then, you lean in, pressing two soft kisses to each of his cheeks. One after the other–each more tender than the last. Your lips peck his cheek beneath his left eye, and linger further down when you bring them to the right side of his face, near the curve of his cheekbone.

At this gesture, he can’t help himself. He stares at you as though you’ve just grown two heads.

You laugh softly and melodically, as if his bewilderment is the most natural thing in the world.

“Luigi,” you say, playfully. “You’re staring.”

“I–,” he starts, voice catching in his throat, but you shake your head, still smiling.

“You should get used to this, you know,” you tease, rolling to your side. The blankets shift away from your body and your bare back is revealed to him. You stretch lazily, and he can’t find it in himself to look away. He watches you, transfixed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You pause, crossing your arms over your chests to cover your breasts. You look over your shoulder at him, hair glowing in the light like a halo. “Except to make us breakfast,” you grin and lean over once more to quickly peck his lips. You push yourself off the bed and pick up a plain white tee, previously discarded, from the ground, throwing it over your head. It fits you, just a bit too big, covering your body. He vaguely realizes it's his.

“Breakfast?” he murmurs. The word feels foreign on his tongue, as he attempts to piece together the pieces of a puzzle he can’t recall beginning.

“Yes, breakfast,” you reply, laughing again. You make your way to his side of the bed and place, yet again, another loving kiss to his forehead. The entire motion feels so natural, so lived-in, that he swears this isn’t the first time. It can’t be, but he doesn’t even know your name.

“Unless you’re planning to keep staring at me all day,” you call over your shoulder as you make your way to the door.

I might, he thinks and he startles himself. That doesn’t sound like himself, at all. Before he can say anything, though, before he can make sense of any of it, the room begins to fade. The light dims, you’ve walked out the door and your voice is growing distant, and he feels himself slipping away. He’s being pulled into something more uncertain than this.

He’s waking up. Panic sets in, but before he can get up to follow you, it’s too late.

–

He awakes with a sharp gasp, chest heaving and back aching. His heart pounds erratically, thrumming against his ribcage frantically, while a dull sting blooms in his chest. A longing he doesn’t fully understand settles in the pit of his stomach.

When he looks around the room, he’s certain that it’s his own, but it feels colder, heavier, emptier. His blinds are drawn shut, no traces of sunlight slip through to warm his face.

He sits up slowly, hands gripping the sheets as he attempts to ground himself. His cheeks burn faintly, and he swears he can still feel it–the plush of your lips.

Luigi feels his breathing become uneven as he swings his legs over the edge of his bed. The cool floor beneath his feet jolts him into wakefulness. Something inside him screams–check, see, know. With great rendition, he stumbles out of the room, his steps unsteady but urgent. His mind chases phantom traces of his dream–the very first dream he’s ever remembered–as if he can catch it before it vanishes from his grasp completely.

When he reaches the bathroom, his hand trembles as he flicks on the light. The stark, fluorescent glow floods the confined space, and for a moment he’s blinded. Then, he steps forward but hesitates, afraid of what he might, or might not, find. Shaking his head, he leans over the sink, his gaze meeting his reflection.

His face stares back at him, disheveled and familiar, but he doesn’t look away. He stares at himself with an intensity he’s never felt before. Eyes dark and searching himself, darting over every inch of his face–his brows, furrowed; his cheekbones, sharp and shadowed in the harsh lighting; his wild curls of brown hair, tousled from his sleep. He scans himself for something–anything–that might prove what he felt was real.

His eyes trail lower, to the faint flush of his cheeks, and there, just beneath his right eye, is a small mole. His gaze lingers on it for a moment before shifting to the left side of his face, where the second one rests near the curve of his cheekbone. He lets out a sharp gasp, clutching the sink until his knuckles begin to lighten. Though he’s seen them a thousand times before, something about them feels different now, as if they’ve been marked. By you.

Something stirs in his chest, a sensation that’s warm and blazing. The flicker of a flame.

He doesn’t even realize how much he’s trembling until he releases the sink from his grasp, hands raising to touch his face. His fingertips brush over the spots where your lips pressed against his skin. The memory of your warmth lingers, faint but undeniable.

It sends a shiver through him–not from the chill of his bathroom, but from the inexplicable comfort it brings. His chest tightens as a soft, quivering breath escapes him.

“It couldn’t have been real,” he says aloud, softly, as if it could make the statement indisputably true. Still, the warmth that blooms beneath his fingers says otherwise.

For the first time in his life, Luigi feels the ache of what he’s been missing all along.

[viasdiary]

Luigi who's too big for you too take but doesn't care and makes u take it anyways + manhandles u

LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS PROMPT OMG

☆ take it (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ warnings: rough sex, choking, overstim, crying

his breath is hot against your skin as he plants kisses across your bare chest, running his hands over your tits as his lips trail up your neck, nibbling and sucking just under your ear. you can't help but giggle, his stubble tickling you as he kisses you.

"god, you're so cute when you laugh like that," he says, chuckling softly against your skin.

you wrap your arms around his neck, running your hands through his soft dark curls. he pulls back, gazing down at you, his silver chain dangling above you.

"you look so fuckin' pretty" he says, his brown eyes searching your face. luigi always looked so hot after you guys had been making out, his lips a little swollen, his curly hair slightly tousled, his cheeks flushed. he looks so beautiful staring down at you like this.

you pull him into another kiss, this one harder, more desperate. you feel his tongue on your lips, asking for entrance, which you happily grant. as the two of you explore each other's mouths, his hands start to wander. one hand trails down your stomach, before slipping between your thighs, gently rubbing at the growing wetness there. you pull away, gasping, letting out a soft moan.

"you like that baby?"

you nod, moaning as he begins to rub your clit in slow, firm circles.

"god, you're fuckin' soaked for me"

"all for you," you manage to say.

"god, i love hearing you say that," he groans, continuing to pleasure you.

you're panting now, desperate for him to touch you more.

"fuck, luigi, please…"

"please what baby? tell me what you need" he teases

"i need your fingers, please" you whine softly.

"gonna have to be a little more specific than that," he chuckles.

"i need your fingers inside me." you beg, desperate.

"anything you want, baby" he says, before sliding a finger inside of you, thrusting slowly at first, then picking up the pace. he feels how tight you are around his finger, his cock growing even harder.

"god, you're so fuckin' tight," he mutters.

you're a panting mess, his finger curling and uncurling inside you, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

he continues his rhythm, adding a second finger and beginning to fuck you harder.

"think you're ready for me?" he asks softly,

"fuck, yes" you say breathlessly

he pulls his fingers out of you, and you whine at the loss of contact. he slides down his boxers and grabs his cock, lining it up with your slick entrance. he pushes into you inch by inch, the stretch deliciously painful

"fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his hands gripping your hips.

you can't help but whimper at the feeling of him stretching you.

"luigi, it hurts," you whine

"you can fuckin' take it." he grunts

you bite back another whine, feeling him bottom out inside you.

"god, i wanna fuck the shit outta you," he growls, gripping your hips tighter.

"please," you say desperately, the pain starting to subside, giving way to pleasure.

he starts to thrust in and out of you, the room filled with the lewd sound of him pounding into your wet cunt. you dig your nails into his back, clinging onto him.

"fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his breathing ragged. you can only moan in response, the pleasure washing over you, your head fuzzy from the ecstasy.

he picks up the pace, pounding into you, your tits bouncing with each thrust. he wraps his hand around your neck, gripping it tightly.

"please, its too much," you beg, tears welling in your eyes.

"shut the fuck up and take it." he growls, continuing his brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping and the creaking of the bed filling the air. he presses down on your lower stomach as he hits your cervix with every thrust.

"feel how fuckin' deep i am?" he groans "i'm practically fuckin' ruining you"

"luigi, please," you sob, the pain and pleasure mixing, the pressure building inside you.

"you like when i fuckin' use you like this?" he aks, his grip on your neck tightening. you can't help but moan, the pleasure overtaking the pain.

"fuckin' answer me"

"fuck, yes!" you cry, the pressure continuing to build.

he continues his assault on your dripping pussy, his thumb brushing against your clit, making you moan loudly.

"that's right, cum for me" he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"fuck, luigi," you cry, your walls spasming around him. he groans, burying himself deep inside you, his cock throbbing as he cums, filling you up.

he lets go of your neck, his hands trailing down your body, before gripping your thighs, spreading them apart as he continues to fuck you.

"you're gonna take my fuckin' cum, aren't you?" he grunts, his hips slamming into yours, the overstimulation making you writhe beneath him.

"gonna let me fuck my load into you nice and deep, huh?" he says breathlessly.

"fuck," he moans, his eyes rolling back. "take it"

you feel him pump his load deep inside you, before collapsing on top of you, his head resting on your chest.

you run your fingers through his hair, the two of you coming down from your highs.

"you did so good for me, baby" he says softly

"fuck you," you reply, giggling.

[v1rtualsalvat10n]

𓆩♡𓆪 how to tell you goodbye

— weeks after his mysterious disappearance, lu shows up at your door with a message for you.

notes :: TW FOR DUBCON. uh yeah I find the idea of him apologizing for doing what he has to do very hot. f!reader sorry guys this is self indulgent

You don't remember how long it's been.

But you know it'd been long enough for you to stop wondering if he was actually coming back or not, and try to cope with that fact. He was gone - there was very little doubt in your mind about that. He'd stopped responding to calls and messages, his socials went cold, his friends, at least the ones you knew, hadn't heard anything either.

He disappeared. And the last thing you ever heard from him was that he was planning on doing something... real. But he never told you what. He could be dead for all you know, and there was nothing you could do about it.

It took a pretty big toll on you. He was one of the few friends you had, and just like that he was gone. Just when things were looking up for you, your support system just had to vanish into thin air. You missed him, fuck, you missed him more than anything. You missed your little coffee shop dates, the weekend parties, playing games in your apartment when it was lonely, sitting in the park together just talking for hours.

You miss those little looks he gave you when he thought you weren't looking, the way that some of your mannerisms made him smile, the nights where your conversations would get real and you'd cry on his shoulder when it was too much for you. You miss how he'd let you.

You missed the moment when he made you look at him, and wiped your tears with his thumb, letting the tension between you two linger for longer than it should. You missed his warm, shaky breath against your cheek. But you missed the most that moment when you felt his lips on yours, just for that few seconds.

You didn't miss the way he seemed to have regretted it after.

But you remembered that the clearest of all... watching the guilt in his eyes set in as he moved away from you, standing from your couch and rushing for his bags, saying that "it was getting late" or some lie like that. You remembered how he didn't even look back at you as he walked out of your door.

And that was the last day you saw him. He texted you the next morning.

"Hey, I probably won't be able to see you for a while. Working on stuff. Gonna do something real with my life."

What the fuck did that even mean? It made you angry, irrationally so. It probably only made you angry because you thought it was your fault. But god dammit, that felt valid! You felt like you had a fair reason to be pissed. It was no secret you liked him - it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out either! He'd do something like that so carelessly, and then just throw you out?

You hated it. Maybe you'd feel better with an explanation, but the truth of the matter is that he kissed you and then mysteriously disappeared, not to be seen again. And how were you not supposed to make assumptions in that situation?

And so you'd spend your days by yourself. With no more Luigi to rely on to keep you from spiraling, you'd been curled up in your room by yourself, scrolling through his social media posts, rereading your message logs to see if there's something you'd missed.

You had a jacket of his he left at your place, and every night you'd wrap a pillow in it and breathe in the mix of cologne and his natural scent until it lulled you to sleep.

It wasn't enough. You wish he'd come back, but even if he did, what was there to say? Even if he apologized, you didn't know that you'd forgive him.

That is, until he actually did come back.

No, surely that was just wishful thinking - that knock was probably a salesman or someone stupid like that coming to bother you. You dragged yourself up from your bed and slowly approached the door, groaning to yourself before putting on a fake smile to answer it.

And sure enough, there he was. Cold and scruffy looking, his clothes ruffled and his hair matted, bags under his eyes. He pushed you inside, and slammed the door behind himself.

He kissed you again. But this time he didn't hesitate, and he wasn't gentle - he threw himself onto you, your lips messily colliding with his as he leaned into it, diving his tongue into your mouth. His hands slid down to your hips, grabbing the waistband of your sweatpants so tight it was like he might fall off the Earth if he let go.

The kiss was sloppy and desperate, and he hungrily pushed it as far as you'd let it go, which was admittedly pretty far. But then the shock faded, and you pressed your hands to his chest, shoving him back. He was weak enough that he fell back into the door, leaning against it to prevent from fully toppling over.

"What the fuck?!"

You'd never yelled at him before. Never even thought about getting upset with him. His face turned fearful, as he steadied himself and tried to walk forwards again. You took a step back for the one he took forwards.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Who do you think you are, fucking with me like this?!"

His expression shifted. He just stared at you, blankly, either too tired or too numb to show any emotion anymore. And fuck, that only made you angrier. "You think this is funny? I was worried you could be dead, and now you just- show up, months later, looking like this? Why didn't you say something? You just- just-"

"I'll explain everything. Just... I really... missed you."

"Yeah? You didn't miss me enough to at least give me a heads up that you were alive!" You hid your face in your hands, sighing deeply trying to contain yourself. What reasonable explanation could there possibly be? You couldn't reason with him surely.

You hear him step forwards, and he places his hands on your hips again. You reach down to pull him off of you, but the moment you move your hands away from your face, he's pressing more kisses to your lips. He holds you tighter, his arms wrapping around you. "Get off me," you growl, but he doesn't listen.

He kisses your neck, his warm breath shaking profusely. "Luigi," you say, and he can't even look up at you. You yank one of his hands off, only for him to put it back on you with more force than the last time. "I said get off!"

"Let me make it up to you," he begs you, his gaze meeting yours as he walked you forwards, pushing you onto the couch. You try to stand, but he's quicker, and he straddles you, hovering over you and pushing you down by your shoulders. He stops looking you in the eyes, too embarrassed at what he was doing.

"Luigi, stop! I'm trying to talk to you, god dammit!" He doesn't listen. He can't. He's already straining his jeans, grinding his hips into yours. It's warm. He's warm, and fuck, you can't lie to yourself. You missed this feeling. You missed the feeling of something real being there with you. You missed him.

Your body betrays you, and you softly rock your hips forwards into his, swearing under your breath. He smiles softly, cupping one of your hips in his hand. "It's okay. I know you missed this." He looked at you, a weird sincerity in his eyes, considering what he was actually doing.

"I'm not messing around. This- this isn't funny. Let go of me." At some point you had stopped struggling without noticing, and you squirmed again, causing him to push more of his weight down onto you. He spoke softly to you. "Shh, it's okay... It's okay, I promise I won't take long. Promise, promise."

He muttered some words in Italian, something that sounded along the lines of a prayer as he rutted into you, yanking your hips up to get more friction. "Stop it," you say again, covering your face with one of your hands.

The truth is that you'd dreamed of this moment for so long. So very long. You'd dreamed of what it would feel like when he finally touched you, his skin on yours, giving you all he had to give. But fuck, not like this, not like this-

He finished with whatever he was reciting, and slipped his fingers under your waistband, along with the one of your panties and tugged them down. You pressed your thighs together, but he was stronger than you and pushed them apart, leaving you exposed for him.

"You're beautiful..." He stared down at you, leaving a crimson shade on your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I just... I felt like I had to tell you goodbye." Your eyes widened as he said that, and you shook your head. "What are you talking about? Luigi, I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere either. You don't have to do this, please-"

By the time you finished, he was already unbuckling his belt, the sound of the buckle clinking against itself making you shiver. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, rubbing himself against your folds. He was big. Bigger than you expected. Big enough that it looked like this might leave you sore.

You tried to scoot back, but he reached for you and pulled you closer than you were before, gasping at the feeling of your wetness against his cock. He'd longed for this forever, maybe even since the moment he'd first laid eyes on you. It felt like heaven to him, despite how dirty he felt - despite the fact that he knew it was wrong.

Something about you looking down on him for this only made him harder.

He lined himself up with your entrance and parted you with just his tip, his nails sinking into your hips as he did. "Fuck," he whimpered, "I'm so sorry, amore."

And with that, he slid into you slowly. You sighed in relief, only to cry out when he was so overwhelmed by pleasure that he slammed himself into you as deep as he could manage, rolling his hips into you.

Fuck. You could feel him pressing against your cervix. His breath shook as he panted heavily, shutting his eyes tightly as he pulled out nearly all the way, only to slam back into you. He swore, leaving bruises on your sides from how hard he was holding you. It hurt but you didn't care.

He kept up this brutal force, moving all the way out just so he could thrust deep into you again. It took him a while to speed up just because he was so overstimulated by it. But when he did, he fucked you like a wild animal, slamming his hips into yours, the obscene sound of his skin hitting yours filling your apartment.

You looked up at him, who still had his eyes closed out of shame. You couldn't help but imagine what he saw behind his eyelids, what he was imagining as he fucked you in earnest. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he fought against them. "I'm sorry," he muttered, over and over again. He couldn't stop apologizing.

"It's- it's okay, it's okay... fuck-! I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you... oh god..."

That was too much for him. Your acceptance, that unconditional love of yours, the fact that he could do this, and you would still understand, pushed him over, and tears streamed down his cheeks.

His hands frantically slid up your sides as he leaned down onto you, both your chests pressed together, getting as much of his skin on yours as possible. He ran his fingers up and down you, committing every hill and valley to memory. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you. I promise you. I promise."

He kept mindlessly apologizing as he used you, controlled by his own need. There was no stopping him now, and you didn't want to. He was beautiful even like this, even at his lowest point. You knew that you loved him in this moment.

"I'm gonna cum, please, please... I'm sorry, I need it, please, baby-" He kept babbling through his tears, which fell onto your cheeks. You closed your eyes softly, leaning into his touch, pressing your lips to his.

He devoured you in an instant, the kiss deeper than before, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his release. "Perdonami, ti prego," he begged, speaking inbetween breaths.

"Lu," you cooed. "Go ahead. It's alright."

As soon as you commanded him, his eyes shot open and he threw his head back as he rammed into your cervix, spilling himself deep inside of you, his body shaking as he did. You tightened around him, the feeling of him finally letting himself go enough to make you cum too, as you called out his name.

He stayed tensed up over you for a moment, his arms struggling to hold his weight as his eyes shut, and he collapsed on top of you, his face in your chest. He started to sob, gripping you tight, one of his hands going down to entangle with yours. "I'm so sorry, amore," he repeated, over and over, "I'm sorry"s falling from his lips.

You pressed him closer, free hand stroking his hair softly as he crumbled in your arms. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"Please don't hold it against me."

"We'll figure it out, okay, Lu? We'll figure it out, together. Me and you. Because I love you."

"I love you too.... No matter what happens, remember that I love you."

[raekensluver]

MIDNIGHT RIDES - BIKER!LUIGI MANGIONE x FEM!READER

DESCRIPTION: going on a night ride with luigi is one of your favorite pastimes.

CONTAINS: dangerous acts on a motorcycle, oral (fem receiving), luigi cumming in his pants.

w.c: 2.8k

the neon lights of the city flickered in the puddles from the recent rain shower, casting an eerie glow across the asphalt. the air had the scent of wet concrete and exhaust fumes. you sat snugly behind luigi on his sleek motorcycle, feeling the gentle purr of the engine vibrate through your body. the warmth of his back radiated against your chest as you tightened your arms around his waist, your gloved hands resting just above his hips. the red light loomed over the intersection, a silent guard dictating the flow of traffic.

you couldn't help but let your curiosity wander. your fingertips traced the contours of his muscular thighs beneath his jeans. luigi stiffened slightly, but a soft chuckle rumbled from his chest. "what's going on back there?" he asked without looking back, his voice a low murmur over the engine's hum. you giggled in response, your breath warm against the fabric of his shirt. "just enjoying the ride," you said with a playful smile. the light turned green and he revved the engine, but you didn't pull away. instead, you slid your hands upward, under the hem of his shirt, and onto the firmness of his abs.

luigi's grip tightened on the handlebars, the bike wobbling slightly as you continued your exploration. you felt his stomach muscles tense as your hands roamed higher, reaching the base of his ribs. his breathing grew shallower, a subtle sign of his growing discomfort. "hey," he said, half-laughing, half-serious. "keep that up and we're gonna end up on the sidewalk." the light had turned red again, and the world around you had stilled once more. you leaned in closer, your helmet's visor kissing the back of his neck. "i don't know," you murmured. "i like the view from here."

his cheeks flushed a little beneath the cool evening air, the only indication of his rising temperature. "you're really not making it easy for me to focus, you know," he said, his voice strained. the engine's vibrations grew more pronounced as his heart rate increased. you grinned, feeling a thrill at the effect you had on him. "good," you said, your voice a low purr. "i want all your attention."

you felt his abs tighten as you slid your hands around to his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath the fabric of his jacket. the light changed again, but luigi didn't move. "are we just going to sit here?" you asked, a teasing lilt in your voice. "i thought we had somewhere to be?"

his shoulders relaxed slightly and he sighed. "right, sorry," he said, before turning the throttle and peeling out of the intersection. you gripped his thighs tightly as the bike surged forward, the wind rushing past your ears like a symphony of freedom. the city lights streaked by in a blur of color, reflecting in the puddles like a disco ball had shattered on the street. luigi leaned into the turns, his body moving in sync with the bike, your heart racing to keep up with the rhythm of the engine.

the feeling of his thighs beneath your palms was exhilarating, the power of the motorcycle seemingly transferring to your fingertips. as you gripped tighter, luigi's muscles flexed, responding to the pressure. it was like holding onto a living, breathing creature, one that thrummed with life and strength. each shift in gears sent a jolt of excitement through your body, making you feel more alive than ever before.

you slid your hands up to his biceps, giving them a gentle squeeze. luigi's shoulders hunched slightly, and you felt his tension spike. "you're gonna make me lose control," he warned, but his voice was tinged with amusement. "i trust you," you whispered, nuzzling his neck. your breath was hot, a stark contrast to the cool air rushing past. he chuckled again, the sound low and deep, sending a shiver down your spine.

the city streets grew quieter as you ventured further into the night. the buildings grew taller, their lights casting long shadows that danced with the bike's headlight. the air grew crisper, hinting at the approaching winter. the chill didn't bother you, though, not with luigi's warmth surrounding you. you leaned in closer, pressing your chest against his back, your hands now resting on the tops of his arms. the bike's vibrations grew more intense as he picked up speed, the thrumming a delicious reminder of the power beneath you.

finally, luigi pulled over to the side of the road, the engine sputtering to a halt. the silence was deafening after the constant roar of the motor. you slipped off the bike, your legs wobbly from the adrenaline rush. "what's up?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips as you both pulled off your helmets, letting your hair cascade down your back. he turned to face you, his eyes dark with something unspoken. "i need a break," he said, his voice gruff.

you took a step closer, placing your hand on his arm. "are you okay?" you asked, genuine concern lacing your voice. he took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "yeah," he murmured. "but you're driving me crazy." a soft laugh escaped your lips, and you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "sorry," you whispered, not really meaning it.

luigi stepped closer, closing the space between you. his eyes searched yours for a moment, before he leaned down and captured your mouth in a fiery kiss. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight against his body. your hands found their way into his hair, the strands damp from the misty night. the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you standing under the flickering streetlight.

his kiss grew more demanding, and you felt your body respond in kind. your heart pounded in your chest, the throb of the engine still resonating in your bones. the coolness of the metal bike frame pressed into your side, a stark contrast to the heat emanating from luigi's embrace. the scent of engine oil mingled with the sweet aroma of his cologne, creating a heady mix that made you dizzy with desire.

finally, he pulled back, his breath coming in short gasps. "behave," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "and i'll give you what you want." his eyes searched yours, a promise and a challenge all rolled into one. you bit your bottom lip, nodding slowly. "okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

without another word, luigi grabbed your helmet from the handlebars and placed it back over your head, the cool plastic a stark contrast to your flushed cheeks. his hands lingered for a moment, adjusting the strap, his fingers brushing against your skin. you felt a sudden thrill at his assertiveness, a side of him you don't see much of. "let's go," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. you climbed back onto the bike, your legs straddling the seat, and wrapped your arms around his waist once more.

the ride back to your townhouse was a blur of neon lights and the occasional streetlamp. luigi's focus was intense, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. every so often, you'd feel his abs tighten against your grip, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that still crackled between you. your hands remained on his thighs, but you didn't push any further, content to simply feel the warmth of his skin through his jeans.

as the bike pulled into the driveway, you felt a sense of anticipation building in the pit of your stomach. luigi killed the engine and swung his leg over the side, helping you off the bike. the moment your feet hit the ground, he turned to face you, his eyes dark and smoldering. without a word, he took your hand and led you up the stairs, the sound of your boots echoing through the quiet night.

once inside, he reached up and unbuckled your helmet, lifting it off with surprising gentleness. you felt a sense of vulnerability without the barrier between you, but also a thrill at the intimacy of the gesture. luigi's eyes never left yours as he placed the helmet on the coat rack by the door. his own helmet followed, the clunk of it hitting the wooden floor echoing through the hallway.

his hand found yours, and he led you to the living room, the warm glow of the lamp casting shadows across the floorboards. the couch beckoned, a cozy sanctuary in the chilly night. without breaking eye contact, luigi sat down, pulling you onto his lap. the heat of his body was like a warm embrace, and you melted into it, feeling your own desire flame brighter with every beat of your heart.

his hands moved to the zipper of your jacket, tugging it down slowly, revealing the soft fabric of your shirt beneath. his fingertips traced the line of your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. the air in the room felt thick with unspoken words and unexplored feelings. you leaned in, capturing his mouth in another kiss, this one slower, deeper. your tongues danced together, a silent conversation that spoke of passion and yearning.

luigi's hands grew more confident, slipping beneath the material of your shirt to caress your bare skin. the touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure through your body. with a sudden decisiveness, he pulled the shirt over your head, breaking the kiss just long enough to discard it onto the floor. his eyes roamed over your torso, drinking in the sight of your curves, your skin flushed from the cold and excitement.

his hands moved to the laces of your boots, deftly untying them and tugging them off one by one. the feel of his warm, calloused hands against your ankles was heavenly, sending a thrill up your legs. you shivered slightly, and he looked up with a question in his eyes. "are you cold?" he murmured, his voice thick with want. "no," you replied, your voice a whisper. "i just want you."

his gaze held yours for a moment longer before dropping to your waist, where his hands began to work on the button of your jeans. the denim felt tight, constricting, as if the fabric itself was eager to be removed. with a pop, the button was freed, and luigi slid the zipper down with torturous slowness. the anticipation was palpable, a silent crescendo building between the two of you.

once your jeans were undone, luigi's hands slid inside, cupping your hips, his thumbs teasing the sensitive skin of your stomach. your breath hitched as he began to peel the fabric down, exposing your legs to the cool air. his eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. you could see the desire in his eyes, the hunger that matched your own.

his hands moved to your back, unclasping your bra with a practiced ease that spoke of familiarity. it slipped off your shoulders, and you shrugged it away, feeling the weight of it fall away. your breasts pressed against his chest, the fabric of his shirt a thin barrier to the warmth of his skin. his thumbs grazed your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. you gasped, arching into his touch.

his hands moved to the waistband of your underwear, hooking his fingers into the fabric and pulling it down with your jeans. your legs were bare now, the soft skin of your thighs exposed to the cool air. luigi's eyes never left yours as he removed the last of your clothing, his gaze a mix of desire and something else, something deeper that made you quiver.

he slid you off his lap, standing in front of you as you stepped out of your jeans and underwear. your legs felt wobbly, but you didn't need to stand for long. with a gentle tug, he guided you back onto the couch, this time with your legs spread wide open for him. the fabric of the couch was rough against the back of your thighs, but it was a delicious contrast to the softness of the cushions beneath you.

luigi knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours. his hands rested on your thighs, the warmth of his palms sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. slowly, so achingly slowly, he leaned forward, his breath hot against your skin. you felt his nose nuzzle the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh before his lips followed, placing a soft, lingering kiss just above your knee. your body quivered in response, your heart racing with anticipation.

his kisses grew bolder, moving upward, each one sending a shiver through your core. the anticipation was almost too much to bear as he approached your center. when his mouth finally found your clit, it was like a bolt of lightning had struck you. the sensation was intense, the gentle pressure of his lips against the sensitive bud sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. you moaned, your hips bucking upward involuntarily.

his nose rested against your clit as he explored you with his tongue, delving into your folds with a hunger that left you breathless. the warmth of his breath was a stark contrast to the coolness of the room, sending goosebumps racing across your skin. your fingernails dug into the couch cushions as he lapped at you, the rhythm of his movements matching the pounding of your pulse. your eyes rolled back in your head, lost in the symphony of sensation.

his hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he worked his magic. you felt your body begin to tighten, the tension coiling like a spring deep within you. your breathing grew ragged, your chest heaving with every gasp. "luigi," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips. he responded by increasing his pace, his tongue flicking against your clit with an expert touch that had you seeing stars.

his eyes flicked up to meet yours, a smoldering intensity in their depths. you could see his own desire mirrored in the dark orbs, his own need growing with every passing moment. and then, as if unable to resist any longer, luigi's body tensed, and he ground his hips against the couch cushions. you watched, mesmerized, as he gave in to the pleasure you were giving him, his own need evident in the way he moved.

his teeth gritted as he fought for control, his eyes never leaving yours. the fabric of his pants grew tight against his erection, the outline clear and unmistakable. the friction from the couch cushions must have been driving him wild, because you could see his body strain with each movement, his thighs flexing as he sought release. the sight of him like this, so raw and unbridled, only served to stoke your own passion.

you reached down, your hand sliding over his shoulder to the back of his head, urging him closer, your legs shaking. "yes," you panted, the word barely audible. "just like that." luigi's eyes darkened, and he took the hint, his mouth working more fervently against your clit, his tongue swirling in a pattern that had you teetering on the edge. your toes curled, the tension in your body reaching a crescendo that threatened to shatter you.

suddenly, it was too much, and you were falling, the world around you dissolving into a sea of white-hot pleasure. your nails dug into his shoulders, your hips bucking against his mouth as you cried out his name. the orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you boneless and trembling. luigi didn't stop, though, continuing to kiss and nip at your sensitive flesh, drawing out every last bit of ecstasy until you were a puddle of satisfaction.

as the spasms of pleasure began to subside, you felt a shift in his posture. his breathing grew more ragged, and his grip on your thighs tightened. then, it happened. a muffled groan vibrated against your skin as luigi's body tensed, his hips jerking. you watched with a mix of fascination and desire as he came in his pants, the fabric straining against his erection. the sight of him losing control was more intoxicating than any alcohol could ever be.

his eyes snapped shut, and he remained there for a moment, his forehead resting against your thighs. his chest heaved with each ragged breath, the sound a testament to his restraint. finally, he sat back on his heels, his eyes opening to meet yours. "i'm sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with passion and regret. "i couldn't… i just needed…"

you reached out, placing a hand on his cheek. "it's okay," you assured him, your voice soft. "i liked watching you." a hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes searching yours. the air between you was charged with something unspoken, a silent understanding.

[your-fave-gets-saw-trapped]

John Lennon and Paul McCartney (the real world/the beatles) are in the Bathroom Trap (saw i)!

requested by anon!

[rpfshippingpolls]

⚠️ DON’T START DISCOURSE ABOUT RPF IN THE NOTES!! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF YOU DO SO ⚠️

Do you ship it?

Reason:

“Lenin entrusted Stalin with the task of bringing him poison for when his illness became too much, which Stalin failed to do. Stalin was reprimanded by Lenin for being rude to Lenin's wife and said to Lenin's sister: "I did not sleep the whole night. Who does Ilyich think I am, how he regards me, as towards a traitor, I love him with all my heart. Please, somehow tell him this."”

[jjkbambi]

frat flu luigi mangione x virgin!reader 18+

summary!!! (smut inspired by this request) you’re set to interview frat president luigi mangione for the penn newsletter!

note: fratboy!luigi but not reallyyyy associated to that cheating demon storyline. written as a standalone but could be seen as a prequel if you squint. unedited but happy new years

warnings: long fic cuz we need a reason to be fuckin, sad bc luigi’s sad, comfort, an attempt at fluff, and of course smut, dubcon (he grinds on you while you’re sleeping), so dry humping, p in dis v (VIRGINNN)

luigi mangione, as described by his fraternity brothers: “cool,” “mega smart,” and “totally chill.” all phrases you could blindly draw from a hat to describe a stranger walking down the street.

surely, this couldn’t be your debut in penn today. a spotlight on the brightest mind on campus, phi kappa psi fraternity president luigi mangione. top of his class at a mysterious luxury private high school, started a hash brown business at sixteen, and, according to his linkedin, volunteers at local libraries, elderly homes, and animal shelters during breaks back home. he’s got a first aid/cpr certification, a bartending license, and a squeaky clean record.

“he doesn’t even complain on yelp,” you groan.

your friend, lacy, sits in the drivers seat, shaking her head. “maybe he’s just nice.”

you shoot a glare at her.

she raises her hands, defensive. “i’ve only heard good things!”

“oh, well, if he was really so nice, he wouldn’t have canceled on me a hundred and one times.” as if he’d heard you, your phone pings—his name flashing on the screen.

from luigi Hey pretty! Something came up today. So sorry. Can I see you another time?

“one hundred and two,” you declare, showing her your phone screen. at this point, it felt less like inconvenience and more like cruelty. his constant rejections, delayed responses, and last-minute reschedules were a relentless reminder of your looming failure to finish the piece on the phi kappa psi house. journalism club was going to fucking kill you.

“y/n, he literally could not have been nicer.” she finally puts the car into park. the both of you look outside.

frustration had been simmering for weeks, growing with every missed promise. almost two months ago, he’d smiled big and earnest, assuring you he’d meet for the interview—yet here you were, still waiting. the distance between you two seemed to stretch with every passing day, and you couldn’t summon the energy to pretend you still cared for niceties.

you’re outside his fraternity house, calling him, he surprises you by answering almost immediately, his voice low and hoarse, like he’s just woken up. “hello?”

“hi, it’s y/n.”

“oh,” he says, tone dipping as he cleared his throat. “hey, how are you?”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “i just wanted to talk—”

“yeah, i know ‘m sorry,” he tells you, sincerity to be debated. “i’ve just been a bit all over the place these past few weeks.”

lacy mouths, “im staying in the car.”

nodding, you hop out, a familiar sense of anticipation lingering. it’s not your first time at the fraternity house, but each visit feels different. the mansion, though grand, has a worn charm—earth-toned walls and overgrown grass, with boys constantly darting across the yard. trash cans overflow with aluminum cans, remnants of the never-ending chaos.

“no, i get it, i do. i, you know, am busy all the time.”

“oh, i’m sure,” he says. “are you free next weekend?”

you didn’t even have to check your schedule to know you were free. but you were already here. “well, actually, i just, um…” you feel a bit of your confidence deflating as you trespass their yard. your face flushes and you suddenly feel the eyes of the other brothers staring at your silhouette like curious dogs, unsure of whether to bark or bite. “i was just passing by the neighborhood, i was wondering if i could come over now?”

he yawns. “what? you mean right now?”

“is that alright?”

“how far away are you?”

“yeah, uh, i’m outside your front door.”

“oh?” he says, clearly taken off-guard. the embarrassment finally settles in. what the hell were you doing?

“you know what, never mind. i’m so sorry,” you flush, spinning on your heel and rushing down the steps, avoiding eye contact with the other guys.

you’re not sure if it’s your heart stopping or the phone call ending, but it’s in that moment that the blackwood door opens. you turn around, and the brown-haired boy steps through, looking disheveled, with dark bags under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept. though, despite that, he’s in gray sweatpants and a long sleeved black compression shirt.

“y/n, come on in,” luigi says, his voice booming, almost too loud for the quiet pennsylvania street. he glances toward the team of players in the front yard, bringing attention to you all over again. “this is the journalist for the penn.”

you shuffle up the steps again. “it’s called penn daily.”

“right,” he nods, eyes searching your body up and down. “you want a jacket?”

you’re in leggings and a tank top. you’re shivering. “no, no, i like the cold.”

the brown-haired boy shakes his head, grabbing one off the coat rack anyway and tossing it over to you.

“you’ll like the jacket even better.”

as he guides you through the house, the weight of the silence surrounds you. you’ve only ever seen the place during parties—neon LED lights casting strange shadows, tables covered in empty Solo cups and suspicious piles of random powders. it always felt like a place of unrecognizable chaos, where everyone was too busy to think about much else but the next round of shots or whatever game they were playing. but today, in the quiet of the late morning, the house feels different. the lights aren’t flashing, the music isn’t blasting, and there’s no throng of people rushing around. it feels oddly intimate, even though it’s still just as cluttered as always.

“is this what it looks like clean?” you ask, only half-joking.

“be nice,” luigi barks, tone plain as he rolled his eyes in faux annoyance. “we had a long night yesterday,” he gestures to the crowds of twentysomethings outside, one group cleaning off the mountain of soda and beer cans off the plastic gray tables, the other playing ping pong. “another long night ahead. you should come.”

the invitation doesn’t sway you, you’re distracted by his face. though his curly hair is neatly cut, and his chocolate brown eyes hold a quiet, dark intensity. his tall frame fills up the room, the way he stands commanding attention without trying. his features are sharp, framed by thick eyebrows, and his smile is small, barely there, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. he offers it to you as if it’s expected. there’s an underlying feeling you can’t shake. it’s like you can tell it’s forced. you’ve seen enough of him in passing (and in stalking) to know this isn’t the usual “luigi” you’re used to seeing at parties or around campus.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “you know, if today’s a bad day, you don’t have to—”

“no, babe, it’s fine,” he says, the term rolling off his tongue like it’s second nature.

in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve picked up on his knack for nicknames and gathered you probably shouldn’t be flattered—all the boys in this frat were entirely too flirty.

he pushes the door to his bedroom open, stepping aside to let you in. “shouldn’t take too long, right?”

“sure,” you lie as you slip past him, fingers brushing over the notepad tucked in your back pocket, your mind racing with questions you’re suddenly too aware of.

“well then, it’s no rush,” he says.

quickly, you notice the collection of allergy medication at his desk. a heinous amount of nyquil, half-empty bottles scattered among crumpled tissues and unopened water bottles. it’s almost comical, the way his organized chaos betrays the “untouchable golden boy” image you’d pieced together. his desk, once probably neat and deliberate, now looks like the scene of a losing battle against the flu. curious, you ask, “bad fever?”

luigi laughs dryly. “something bad, that’s for sure.”

you feel yourself sink at the admission. instinctively, you reach up to feel his forehead, your fingers hovering just shy of his skin. it’s a simple gesture, something you wouldn’t think twice about doing for one of your roommates, but as soon as your hand makes contact, he stiffens, his body recoiling ever so slightly. the movement is subtle but enough to make you hesitate, pulling your hand back as his lashes flicker up to meet yours.

“jesus christ,” you gasp. “you’re burning up.”

luigi doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze lingering on you just a moment too long, his eyes a little softer than usual.

“think i’ll be fine,” he says, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s trying to brush it off. it feels more like he’s saying it for both of you than for himself.

a pang of guilt hits you hard—a reminder of how you’d pushed for this interview while he was clearly feeling terrible. all those ridiculous, relentless messages, the nagging about deadlines while he was probably just trying to get through the day. god, you feel like an idiot.

you cup his cheeks, serious. “you should really get to bed.”

“what, and miss the privilege of being interrogated by the penn’s finest?” he teases, leaning into you. you’re struck at how warm he was, how utterly unprofessional you were coming off as, how awful it would be to pull away.

the article, you remind yourself, inching away. “if you pass out mid-question, it’s not going to make for a great article.”

“least i’ll be a shoo-in for the sympathy vote next semester,” luigi says with a wry chuckle, his tone light but laced with something deeper as he glances back up at you, almost as if testing your reaction.

“come on,” he reaches for your hand when you frown, interlocking your fingers and swaying you. he doesn’t pull you too close, something about the way he’s looking at you has you sure he’ll never give you the satisfaction, but your fingers interlock and there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips, smugness plain. “i couldn’t let you walk out here so fast. you know what they would say about me if they thought i let down a pretty girl like you?”

you feel your face go pink but your ego won’t let his flirting power last. his forehead was burning hotter than sauna, he probably didn’t know what was even happening. “you look like you haven’t even slept,” you say, matter-of-factly. “would you just sit down?”

“trust me, this headache’ll be gone before you can even say sto meglio con te,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

he grins as your brow furrows. “you could put that in your article. successful, speaks italian, looks like shit.”

“i didn’t mean that. i’m just worried.” ignoring the fluttering in your stomach and his persistent gaze, you turn your phone over. “i could order you some soup. there’s a really nice pho place down the road—”

“what’re you, my girlfriend?”

“mangione,” you sigh. “you’re being impossible.”

“baby,” he says, the word slipping from his lips with a teasing familiarity that catches you off guard. it pierces straight through your ego, sharp and unexpected. “i promise, ive got way more interesting things to talk about than allergies. come on, ask me.”

before you can react, another voice calls from outside, and you hear hurried footsteps approaching the door. luigi hesitates for a second, glancing at you. a younger group of fraternity brothers peeks in, looking urgent.

“hey, we’ve got a problem with the fundraising paperwork—someone made a mistake with the donations, and it needs to be fixed or we’re going to miss the deadline,” one of them explains, his voice tight with stress.

“who was in charge of that?” luigi asks, a lilt of accusation in his tone.

the younger twentysomethings look around, feigning innocence, avoiding eye contact. “whatever, it doesn’t matter,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes. “i’ll take care of it.”

he squeezes your hand before he leaves the room, saying, “stay put for me.”

so you sit on his navy blue bed, stiff and idle, your mind wandering as you wait. you text lacy and tell her you’ll catch up with her later as the constant sound of chaos fills your ears. you hear the house scrambling through the halls and luigi’s answering calls and questions, directing people, moving them out the way. the speakers for the party this weekend just got delivered, the delta 3 girls are inviting them to volunteer at their annual car wash, and there’s a leak in the basement that needs immediate attention. after what feels like hours, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. exhaustion pulls at you, and without even realizing it, you fall asleep on his bed, the rhythmic noise of his busy life buzzing around you.

“y/n,” luigi exhales as he finally re-enters the room, his exhaustion evident in every step.

he’s greeted at the sight of your body sprawled across his bed, eyes fluttered shut with his jacket blanketed over your silhouette. he’s not so sure what comes over him, but he locks the door. your peaceful slumber is a stark change from the drunk mayhem on the other side of the door, and he’s intent on keeping the peace. the bed dips under his weight as he sinks down beside you, too tired for niceties. without a word or a second’s hesitation, he pulls the jacket off you and brings your tired body closer to his.

it starts off innocent. his arms are wrapped around your stomach, your body limp against his. he cradles into the nape of your neck—and you’re so soft and you smell so good, he can’t help himself. he tells himself he won’t take it too far. starting with small, sweet kisses against the side of your neck, almost tickling you out of your unconsciousness. you sleepily squirm under his hold and he’s straining in his sweatpants before he can make sense of it.

“you’re so pretty,” luigi whispers. it would be a waste, really, to have you this close without touching you. using you.

he grinds his hips against your plump ass. he’s so fucking hard, he really can’t help it. he has to have you, but he can’t bring himself to wake you—you’d been so sweet to him earlier, doe eyes wide with concern—he figures he has to return the favor somehow, right? letting you nap in his bed feels like the least he can do.

“you’ve got no idea how often i lose my mind thinkin’ about this, about you,” he confesses. the noise outside is loud, chaotic—a world away from the quiet intensity between you. it’s too loud for anyone else to know of the secret unfolding here, in the space of his touch and the weight of his gaze.

he’s rougher now, tightening his grip on your hips as he jerks himself into you. you were so worried about him earlier. you’d want this, wouldn’t you? to help him out, make him feel better?

his defense of plausible deniability falls apart piece by piece. one of his hands stray from your hip to your clothed core, rubbing you, desperate for friction. he groans into your back. you were wet, he was sure of it, he had to make sure of it. he slips his hands down your leggings and rushes to palms your wetness. he has to make sure you’re feeling just as good as he was.

you shudder at the touch, slowly bringing yourself from rem to reality. the room is hotter than you remembered, and you almost shriek as you realize luigi’s hands had been all over you. he’s quick to put his hand over your mouth, talking in your ear, “‘m sorry baby, couldn’t resist.”

his sloppy wet kisses are hot against your neck, so frantic, so desperate, so needy, his stubble unnerving you as you squirm under his hold. you can hardly make sense of what’s happening. “luigi.” you mewl as he grinds his clothed cock into you. “what’re you doing?”

he moans at the perfect blend of innocence and surprise twined through your voice. its undeniable now — he can’t spend another second not experiencing you.

“you said you wanted to make me feel better, yeah?” luigi grunts. before you can respond, he’s slipping a finger into your wet pussy. you jolt at the wild unfamiliar storm that grasps you, trying to turn your head over to him, to look at him, to ask him what the hell had gotten into him. he kisses you when your head tilts, his free hand wrapping around your throat.

“that’s so much fuckin’ better,” he tells you, stretching your core out with another two fingers. he’s so eager—so intent on making a mess of you, you’re almost humiliated at how easily you fall apart underneath.

you quiver and shake, and try to twist out of his groping hands, but he doesn’t budge, pressing harder into you. “you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart,” he swears.

“luigi,” you cry, helpless. the friction felt so hot it made you light-headed. the pleasures storms out any logical part of you. “i don’t—i don’t know what to do.”

of course you don’t. you were entirely too sweet, too well-meaning, too fuckin’ stupid to realize how badly he wanted you. running up to him after his gym workout, bright-eyed as you asked him to hang out. not on a date, not even as friends, but for a stupid fucking college paper. he should’ve taken you right there, in the parking lot, let you scream on it so loud the entire campus knew you were his, saved all this goddamn time.

“you’re a fuckin’ virgin?” luigi asks. he needs to hear you say it.

he rips his hand from your aching cunt and you cry out at the loss of friction.

“yes,” you pout.

“any good journalist knows to use specifics.” you see a cocky grin etch onto his lips before he flips you over and brings you in for a proper kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he sinks into you. you kiss him back. you wanted this, whatever it was. “tell me again.”

“i’m a virgin,” you admit, reddening.

he smiles against your cheek before kissing you again—“been waiting for me, yeah? you want me to take you?”

“luigi, please.”

“what’s that?” he says, cruel.

you pout again and try to please him, rushing into another kiss. he captures your lips gladly, but refuses to bring you to the satisfaction of salvation.

all too mean, he points out, “you don’t even know what you’re begging for.”

at this point you were sure you could get drunk off the warmth of him. if you bucked up into the air, you could feel his bulge raging against his sweatpants.

“i want you,” you whine. “i mean—i just—i thought you wanted me too..?”

“of course i do. look at you.” luigi grunts before he strips off his shirt, ripping down your leggings with a force that pulls your body down the bed with him. his dark gaze drifts down.

you flush at the sight of the wet mess all over your legs. “you did all that just for me?” luigi mocks. “you want me that fuckin’ bad?”

“yes,” you have no idea why but you do. you can’t imagine a world where you walk away now and never experience him.

luigi never had any intention of being nice about this. his morals and his plans for the night unraveled the moment his eyes found you sprawled across his bed. harshly, he grips your hips—sure to leave marks, hoping for it—before pounding the entirety of his length into your purity.

the stretch scorches, searing into you. you see white, red, and hell all at once. “luigi—!” you cry out.

“you’re so good,” luigi assures. he tries to pace himself as you fall apart underneath him. he tries he tries he tries—but your inexperienced pussy molds around him, so perfect and wet, he can’t help himself.

you feel everything but perfect. unnerved and wild and overwhelmed, whimpering underneath him like a sick puppy. he fucks into you like he’s itching to see if you’ll break.

“it hurts,” you whine.

“you look so fuckin’ pretty with your legs spread,” luigi says. “can’t get enough of this perfect pussy.”

you paw at him, desperate for sacred ground, grip landing on his arms, hard and toned underneath your fingertips. he smirks. “feelin’ me up, sweetheart? you like my arms?”

the sound of skin slapping overtakes your corner of the world. you’d seen him before, but never like this. you’ve never had anything like this.

“luigi.” you whimper. “i can’t, you’re so big—”

“i know, pretty, i know,” he murmurs, kissing the running wet tears down your cheeks. “d’you remember the night you went up to me after the gym? d’you remember what you were wearing?”

you can’t help but claw your fingers deep into his arm muscles, desperate to find a vice for the pain. “oh my god,” you gasp. he pounds into you relentlessly and before you realize, you’re rolling into waves of foreign pleasure.

“stupid fuckin’ tank top,” luigi groans. pleasure storms you as he gets more brazen. he pulls down your camisole, lapping at your tits, biting you, marking you. “wind blew over and i got to see your perfect fuckin’ nipples. wanted to tear you apart right there.”

“what? really?”

“had to jack off in my fuckin’ car thinking about you, about this,” he murmurs before smashing his mouth back onto yours—and this time, you feel more prepared to bear it, melting into his warmth, lips perfectly reunited. you’re shivering under the heat. he fucks you hard into the mattress, hellbent on breaking you in. you’re sure he’s accomplished it already. you’re dizzy and light and on top of the goddamn world.

he sees through you. “fuckin’ close?”

“i-i think so—”

“so fuckin’ stupid,” he muses. “stupid fuckin’ virgin, doesn’t even know when she’s gonna cum.”

“you’re so mean,” you whine.

“yeah, you think so?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hand strikes your cheek. the sting blooms like fire, another cruel signature of his dominance, a mark left behind in his endless quest to tarnish the golden purity you wear so effortlessly. his wicked touch moves down to your delicate clit and the sparks of pleasure turn into storms. you’re done for, waves of white gushing around him as you cry out his name.

“oh god,” luigi groans. “such a good girl, creamin’ on it like that. so perfect.”

the jolt of pleasure within you only makes you more sensitive. this time, when his hands return to your body, they’re clamped around your neck. he’s pulling into you, punishing your delicate cunt. as you quiver and froth, his thrusts grow sloppy and he rasps again—this time more guttural, more intense—and soon enough you feel his huge cock twitch inside of you, sending streams of his seed into your stomach.

he joins your silhouette on the bed, his warmth melting into yours as he pulls you close. his arms wrap around you, steady and secure, and his lips press softly to your forehead.

“‘m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice low and soothing. “didn’t mean to get so rough.”

you struggle to find the breath, then the words, “no, i—i think it was fine.”

he looks at you, his smile fading into something more thoughtful, his gaze deepening with quiet admiration. “just fine?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of playful disbelief.

you meet his gaze, your heart fluttering, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you hum,

“penn’s finest.”

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