Make A *pop* Sound On His Shroom Tip :)

this is an ask that @luigisbambinaaa wrote about priest luigi, tumblr won’t let me respond the proper way so i’m just gonna paste it down below

“okay okay i told you i wanted to try to write something sooo here it is..

imagine getting father luigi to tittyfuck you.. like i mean it isn't necessarily penetration so technically it isn't bad.. lemme add

it starts off very innocent, you're a new church goer and are entranced by the young hot father delivering the sermons on Sundays and eventually work up the courage to ask for private Bible studies in your softest and innocent voice— knowing your thoughts are anything but...

father luigi WANTS to believe so badly there isn't any malice behind your intentions.. he tells himself he's helping you be saved..

But weeks in.. not having him gets unbearable.. you ogle him from the other side of his desk, wear your glossiest lipstick, and not so subtly lean forward so he gets glimpses of your tits in your tight dresses.

Tonight though things were going to be different and you were going to make a move.. you sit closer to him and your scent has luigi dizzy.

"Father... isn't sin all about being intentional?" you start, feigning innocence and confusion..

He blinks and tilts his head your way, "I—yeah i guess it is."

"So if something doesn't necessarily cross certain lines...then it isn't really considered sinning is it?", you bite your lip as you wait for his response.

Luigi with his heart racing replies, "Wh-What lines are we talking about..?"

Your smile grows at his flustered response and you stand in between his legs slowly and teasing. Your hands moving to the buttons of your dress as you begin to unbutton them and father luigi doesn't stop you. i mean he was so entranced by you he couldn't bring himself to.

"So we wouldn't be doing anything wrong then.. not if you don't really fuck me.." You say as you free your tits from your dress and push them together to tease him.

father luigi lets a shaky breath leave his mouth.

"You wouldn't necessarily be the one sinning if i helped you ease that ache you feel father."

he lets out a choked gasp at this before saying "baby.. we— we shouldn't-*

but you're already sinking to your knees in front of him, pushing up his cassock and freeing him from his boxers, placing his dick between your plush tits. his protests turning into little whines and whimpers as he gets used to the warmth of your chest.

"let me help you father..." you whisper as you pump his hard dick between your tits, already slick with spit and his precum. "shhhh... i won't tell anyone father... it isn't really a sin if you don't put it in me."

his head falling back at this and his hands grip the edge of his seat, trying to anchor himself.

You start slow at first, then squeezing your tits together a little tighter, still sliding his length through and watching his face contort with pleasure and trying to hold back his moans.

"Feels good right father?" you ask him, now moving a bit faster. "You're doing so good for me.."

His whines and whimpers were coming out broken now. Lost in the pleasure he had been so long deprived of- his hips jerking to meet your tits despite his earlier protests. He was chasing that sweet, sinful release.

"Please.. I-" father luigi gasps, "I'm-I'm gonna- oh fuck.."

"that's it... cum for me father.." you purred and licked over his swollen head the moment it peaked out the top of your tits. "Cum for me father, i want your cum, show me how good my tits make you feel.""

It didn't take much longer after that, with a loud cry and trembling, father luigi cums all over your tits, hot and messy white. he's left breathless and wrecked above you.

and then when his eyes finally open again, though dazed. you take the opportunity to smile up at him and say,

"See?" As you lick some of his cum off your bottom lip, "not a sin at allil!"

okay l've literally never written anything like this before so I'm sorry if it was shittyyyyy but i have other ideas like jealous priest lu watching u flirt with another church goer if anyone's interested :P okayyy byeee”

my response: oh my god this is absolutely FUCKING PERFECT priest luigi would want you sooo bad like he’d be struggling to control himself around you, the more you continue showing up to church the more he’d wanna give in to his desires 😣😣

Soft Spot Pt. 2 ~

summary: spring break trip to cabo, luigi gets wiped out, and you’re sent to help him ;)

content warning: smut, oral (both receiving), p in v, luigi gets bruised

an: hi!! thank you to everyone that liked, shared, and commented on part 1!!!! also thank u to my homie palmersluvr for help with the formatting tho im still figuring it out. idk the word count but this shit is sooo long but i had so much fucking fun writing this so i hope you all enjoy :)! take a shot for every single time i said “rhythm” lol.

part 1

————————

weeks passed, and despite the playful texts shared between you and luigi, he wasn’t able to come back for a second “appointment”.

not because he didn’t want to. but because midterms had everyone busy— especially him.

sleep schedules were fucked up, group chats barely active, and every inch of the library taken over by students running on iced coffee.

luigi had practically disappeared— only proof of his existence being the many students that he tutored making jokes about how their TA had a spot reserved in heaven for all the hard work he’s done for them.

and yet, despite the chaos, there hadn’t been a single mention of back pain from him or his friends.

if anything, everyone noticed he seemed lighter. maybe your hands really had worked some sort of magic.

and eventually you were all able to taste the sweet freedom of spring break. friends of friends all headed to cabo for a well deserved get away.

instagram buzzing with photo dumps of tan lines and tiny bikinis, camera roll full of coconut drinks, beach sunsets, and grainy late-night dinners.

the resort ridiculously beautiful— picked out by luigi and others. shady palm trees stretching over the infinity pool, balconies overlooking the ocean, music a constant hum in the background no matter the hour. every corner full of beauty.

spending mornings with your girls walking the shoreline, tucking cute little seashells into your beach bag. afternoons spent exploring, wandering through colorful local markets, vendors beckoning you over in spanish, taking polaroids of everything. chaotic dinners with messy seafood platters, one too many margaritas, and tables full of friends cramming in every space they could.

and always, luigi was there, lingering just close enough to keep you on your toes. the flirting having been buried under study guides and endless cups of coffee— but not entirely gone.

you felt it in the way his eyes lingered on you in your sundresses, in the way he saved the empty chair next to him for you, in the way your fingers would brush when passing certain items across the table, yet neither of you said anything.

it was the kind of tension that hung in the air without needing to be addressed aloud. sweet, aching, and unbothered— until it wasn’t.

all the boys had decided to go out early that particular morning to catch some waves, lugging huge surfboards down to the beach while you and the rest of the girls stayed behind for some late brunch at the resort cafe.

you were mid-bite into a piece of french toast when someone burst into the outdoor patio, face red and out of breath.

“luigi wiped out bad on a huge wave,” they panted, trying to catch their breath, “board slammed him in the back, he should be okay, but he’s out for the day. they took him back to the room to rest.”

your stomach dropped. you honestly didn’t even realize how much you’d been hoping he’d show up that day, maybe just for lunch or just to sneak a few glances at you.

“can someone go check on him?” one of your friends asked, glancing around the table. “he’s probably fine, just milking it. but still.”

many of them shrugged, too caught up in their delicious breakfast food or downing their drinks to volunteer.

“you’re the nicest one here and have the expertise,” another added, pointing her fork at you with a smile. “can you go make sure he’s still breathing? im sure he won’t bite.”

they didn’t know. shit, nobody knew about you two. and so you nodded, wiping your hands on a napkin and standing slowly.

you headed back to your room first— not wanting to show up empty-handed. grabbing some essentials from your suitcase like some peppermint oil, aloe vera, the same lotion you used on him in your dorm, all thrown into your tote bag.

when you stepped back out into the hallway, one of the guys had caught up to you and handed you a spare key card.

“he’s in one of the oceanfront suites so i figured you might need this since he’s probably bed ridden”

you mutter a thank you and walked a few doors down the hallway. with the door clicking shut behind you, you stood still for a second, just admiring.

everything was nicer, sleek, clean, and expensive. the king sized bed resembling a cloud , a perfect plush comforter thrown over. floor to ceiling windows letting in sunlight that kissed every surface in gold, and a soft sea breeze drifting in through his open balcony door. and then there was a hot tub, massive and polished. half sunk into the floor near the balcony, something out of a dream.

your breath hitched.

“luigi?”

you called out gently, stepping further into his room. and then you saw him.

sprawled out across the bed, shirtless, eyes half closed, with a pillow or two tucked under his lower back.

his swimming trunks were riding low, dangerously low. low enough that your eyes traveled down the faint trail of hair leading down his stomach— the one you didn’t get to appreciate too much before.

your fingers clenched slightly around the strap of your tote bag, heart skipping a beat.

“…hi.” he replies softly and shyly.

you don’t say anything at first, tossing your bag on the dresser and kicking off your sandals without a second thought.

the bed dips slightly under your weight as you carefully climbed up beside him, leaning in slowly, one hand going to cradle the side of his face, your fingers instinctively tangling themselves in his curls, scratching his scalp softly.

“what the hell happened?” you murmured, brushing your thumb over the curve of his cheek. “how bad is it?”

he leaned into your touch just a little, lashes low and heat radiating off of him.

“hurts like a bitch,” he admitted, lips twitching into a tired grin, “but seeing you kind of helps.”

you rolled your eyes, but your thumb still stroked gently over his cheek.

“you’re such a baby,” you muttered, “let me see.”

he blinked up at you, hesitant. you pull back enough to sit on your knees, glancing down at the way his arm was draped over his stomach.

“come on, turn over so i can see, or do i need to do it for you?”

he grumbles something about you being bossy, but shifts anyway to let you get a good look. wincing slightly as he moved his arm, revealing an angry red mark blooming across his lower back and side— already beginning to bruise, dark and raw.

you sucked in a quiet breath.

“jesus, luigi…”

you reached for your tote bag and rummaged through it, pulling out the lotion and peppermint oil, warming it up in your hands.

“this might sting a little,” you warned.

“i trust you,” he murmured, eyes falling closed again.

your hands pressed carefully to his skin in slow, gentle circles at first, barely any pressure. and his breath hitched, not from pain, but from you and how you knew exactly where to touch without asking.

you kept your focus low, jaw clenching and unclenching, pretending not to notice the way his hips twitched slightly when your palms smoothed along the curve of his waist.

“relax,” you whisper, “I’ve got you.”

your fingers moved in slow, practiced motions, the familiar rhythm calming the both of you. he was quiet under your touch, face buried into a pillow, muscles slowly uncoiling under your hands.

“you’re so dumb,” you said gently, a little laugh slipping out. “what were you even trying to do? show off? impress the ocean?”

luigi letting out a small groan and barely lifting his head mumbles, “was tryna ride the wave,” his words slurred with exhaustion and comfort.

you pressed your thumbs in a little deeper to the sides of his bruises, careful but firm.

“and it rode you huh?”

“mhmmm…”

you smiled, shaking your head, continuing— moving a bit lower, tracing along the edges of his blooming bruises. he let out a low whimper, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, his fingers slightly curling into the sheets.

“seriously gi,” you murmured, softer now. “you could’ve really hurt yourself.”

“m’sorry,” he breathed, voice small now. “didn’t mean to.”

you leaned down just a little, hair falling over your shoulder as you whispered near his ear. “you gotta stop being reckless. who’s gonna fix you up next time if i’m not around?”

his only answer being a quiet, needy whine— his head tilting slightly towards you.

and with you leaning over him like that, face being close and hair brushing his skin, he lifted his chin just enough to press his lips to yours. soft and tentative. you froze just for a second, then kissed him back just as gently.

you’re the first one to pull away, giving his hair a light tug. “you better behave,” you whispered, breath warm against his mouth. “or i won’t finish your massage.”

he grinned, lazy and dazed. “im behaving,” he mumbled, already slumping back into the pillow like your kiss was enough to sedate him.

you scooped up a little more oil into your palms and worked quietly for a few more minutes— slow and careful movements over the bruising, his muscles loose now.

and then, a soft murmur:

“i think my back’s good now… think you could get my shoulders?”

…

“…and maybe my chest too?”

you smirked and glanced down at him.

“whatever you want princess”

he began to turn over, shifting on his side with a groan, but as you were about to guide him onto his back—

“wait not like this.”

before you could even reply, his hands slid over your hips and in one quick motion, he brought you right into his lap.

you let out a quiet gasp, straddling him now, palms braced on his bare chest as he looked up at you— eyes dark and blown out.

“like this.” his voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t say anything, just swallowed hard and nodded once. your fingers dipped back into the oil, rubbing it between your palms to warm it up before sliding your hands over his chest.

he was pretty still beneath you, save for the tiny shifts of his body. sharp inhales when your thumbs pressed into his skin, the subtle twitch of his thighs when you pressed too low.

“shit,” he breathed, voice hitching higher this time, soft and strained. “feels so good…”

your hands moved to his shoulders, thumbs circling into tight knots just beneath his neck. it was a bit of a stretch from your spot in his lap, so you leaned forward, your chest brushing against his, your breath grazing his jaw.

and then his lips found yours again, lazy and slow. he kissed you without urgency, one hand sliding to the small of your back, and the other on your thigh, trying to keep himself grounded.

you kissed him back, just as slow. before pulling away slightly, catching your breath, and going back to his shoulders as if nothing happened.

he groaned again, though not from the massage this time.

“not fair,” he muttered.

you laughed under your breath, going back to press into a particularly tight spot behind his shoulder blade.

“too bad.”

you leaned back down, lips finding his again and this time it gets heavier. his mouth opened beneath yours, teeth dragging your bottom lip between his, and his hips shifting beneath you.

he groaned into your mouth, deeper, and then—

his hips rolled up. just once. slow, instinctual, and desperate.

he sighed, lips parting as he dropped his head back into the pillow, his chest rising and falling fast under your palms.

“fuck…”

you didn’t move at first. just stayed still in his lap, enjoying the rise of fall of his chest. and then softly, you leaned in again.

you kissed the corner of his mouth— a gentle peck, then another, and another. then along his jaw. then that sensitive spot just below his ear, that always makes him shiver.

you worked your way down slowly, kissing along the edge of his throat, his collarbone, your mouth lingering all over as he tilted his head back to give you more access.

“baby…” he whispers, his voice wrecked.

his hands slide up your sides, slow and kinda unsure. when his fingers brushed the hem of your swimsuit coverup, you let your arms fall to your sides, silently giving him the permission he wanted.

he sat up slowly, groaning softly at the movement and peeled the fabric from your body in one slow motion, letting it fall somewhere in the room.

then his fingers reached the tie of your bikini top. he tugged at it gently, watching you the entire time. when you didn’t protest, he undid the knot with shaky fingers and let the top slip away.

his breath hitched.

“fuck, you’re—“

he didn’t even let himself finish before his mouth was already on you. soft kisses at first, then his lips closed around the swell of your breasts, tongue flicking, hands pressing you closer to him as you arched your back.

your quiet gasp became a whimper.

“oh…”

his groan followed instantly. he sucked a little harder, peppering warm, open mouthed kisses near your nipple.

“ you sound so pretty,” he mumbled against your skin. “don’t stop.”

then, without another word, he took your nipple into his mouth, gentle and almost hesitant at first. his tongue swirled around it, his lips closing in a tight, wet seal as he suckled, like you were his favorite lollipop.

you let out a sharp little moan, surprised by how sensitive you were and how good it felt to have him care for you as well. he groaned in return, the sound vibrating through your chest.

his hand slid up your spine, holding you steady as he moved over to your other nipple, showering it with the same attention— his tongue flicking, lips tugging just right to make you whimper again.

you threaded your fingers through his curls, breathing uneven, your thighs tightening around his hips as his mouth latched onto you. each moan that escaped your lips, pulled a groan from his— almost like he couldn’t help it, like your sounds were enough to unravel him.

your hips started to move before you even realized with small, slow rolls against his lap, the friction sending sparks between your thighs with every pass.

luigi’s breath hitched.

his hands gripped your waist tighter, thumbs brushing over your bare skin as he tried to ground himself, his eyes fluttering shut as your bodies rocked together in a lazy rhythm.

“fuck… that feels so good,” he murmured, forehead resting against your chest.

your fingers carded through his curls, your lips brushing over the top of his head, all tender and affectionate while your hips kept working him over.

but then—

a sharp inhale.

“ah- shit-“

he winced, body tensing up beneath you, and you froze instantly.

“your back?” you whispered.

he nodded, jaw clenched, and brows drawn tight.

“just moved a little weird, m’okay,” he exhaled, trying to wave it off.

you shook your head and cupped his cheek.

“nope. lay down babe. let me take care of you.”

he didn’t argue. just sank back into the pillows with a groan, arms falling to his sides like he had no fight left.

you kissed down his chest as you moved, slow and deliberate. letting your mouth explore every inch of his skin, from the curve of his pecs to the soft dips between his abs.

he was already breathing harder by the time you reached for the faint trail of hair leading down— that happy trail you admired earlier.

you licked a slow stripe down it and then another, watching him twitch slightly under you. his hips shifted again, his swimming trunks now tented and clinging low to his hips.

you hooked your fingers into the waistband, tugging them down in one smooth, letting him spring free, the weight of him softly slapping against his lower abdomen. his hissed, not from pain, but from need.

you hovered above him, eyes locked on his face as you leaned down and gave him a single, teasing kitten lick across the tip.

he groaned, loud and frustrated.

you did it again, this time even slower. and then another, barely brushing his sensitive underside.

his hips flexed, but you pulled back just in time, smiling softly.

“be patient,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his thigh.

you kept it at that— delicate little licks of your tongue that barely counted as relief. just enough to make him squirm, to make him whine, to keep him right there on the edge.

“please,” he gasped, hips twitching upwards only for you to press them down.

“please, i can’t— i need—“

but you didn’t give in. instead, your hands held his hips steady, fingers digging into his warm skin, and your tongue tracing lazy circles around his sensitive tip.

another kitten lick, then met with a breathless groan.

he was shaking now, head turned to the side, eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep his composure. his thighs tensing under your touch and his voice falling into almost incoherent whimpers.

“amore, please— im gonna—“

and then he did.

luigi’s whole body arched beneath you with a strangled moan, hips stuttering as he came hard against his stomach, all hot, messy, and sudden.

you kept going, soft and unrelenting, licking up everything he gave you with gentle care. every flick of your tongue making him twitch and sigh, oversensitive but too far gone to protest.

once you had cleaned him up, you leaned in close and pressed a tender kiss right to his tip. he let out a breathless laugh, eyes glassy and lips parted.

you smiled, resting your head just above his hips as you looked up at him, taking him in. you stayed like that for a bit, fingers tracing light circles on his thigh as he caught his breath.

his chest rose and fell in soft waves, his skin still flushed and forehead a little damp with sweat, lips parted in a dazed smile.

you leaned in again, pressing a kiss to his abdomen, another to his chest before moving upwards to curl into his side. your palms smoothed over his stomach, resting there while your nose brushed his jaw.

“how’s your back?” you whispered.

he chuckled weakly, still breathless, “honestly? im not even worried about it anymore.”

you scoffed and giggled into his neck, letting your fingers shift lower again, brushing over the curve of his hip.

then he turned his head, eyes burning behind the softness they had.

“let me return the favor,” he murmured. “please.”

your heart skipped a beat.

“luigi…”

but he was already moving. hands finding your bikini bottoms, fingers sliding against the strings at your hips as he untied them, tossing the fabric somewhere into the room.

his voice was hoarse, low and pleading.

“wanna taste you. been thinking about it since the day you made me take photos of you in that tiny bikini with your polaroid on the beach.”

you didn’t argue with that and let him guide you up his chest. letting his lips brush your skin the whole way up, until your thighs framed his face and your knees sank into the mattress on either sides of his head.

his hands gripped your hips, eyes looking up to meet yours as he exhaled, “let me take care of you too.”

he barely gave you time to settle above him before he was pulling you down hard. his grip tightening around your thighs, dragging you fully down onto his mouth, his tongue already parting you before you could even exhale.

your gasp nearly hit the ceiling, luigi wasnt soft nor gentle, he was hungry.

he moaned into you like he was starving— like just the taste of you was enough to keep him alive. his mouth moved so recklessly, tongue licking broad, wet stripes before curling into where you needed him most, lips sealing around you in a filthy, perfect kiss.

you tried to lift yourself just slightly, just enough to catch your breath but his arms locked tighter around your thighs, pinning you down against him.

“luigi—“

you barely got his name out before— crack!

his palm landed a sharp slap to your ass. not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind you he was in control right now.

your whole body jolted, letting out a surprised moan as you instinctively ground yourself down harder against his mouth and started grinding. slow at first, trying to find the perfect rhythm, and then faster and messier, as he just let you ride him, his pretty nose nudging against your clit.

he sucked, licked, devoured.

“fuck baby— you’re so good.” you moaned, voice shaking as your fingers tangled themselves in his curls, tugging hard.

“you’re making me feel so fucking good— i can’t—“ and he groaned under you, the sound vibrating against your pussy, making your thighs clamp tighter around his head. and still, he didn’t let up.

just kept licking like a man possessed, grip tightening, strong hands digging into your thighs, keeping you locked in place.

your body was trembling, skin flushed, that heat ready to snap— and luigi knew it.

and right when you were teetering, mouth hung open and breath stuttering— his lips latched onto your clit.

not soft or teasing, just purely desperate.

he sucked hard, his tongue flicking mercilessly, drawing fast, tight circles that made your vision go white.

“oh—fuck—luigi!”

the loudest moan tore out of you, sharp, raw, and damn near broken as the pleasure slammed into you. your thighs crammed around him, fingers yanking on his hair, hips jerking uncontrollably as your orgasm hit with a violent force.

and he held you there, through every gasp, twitch, and tremble. sucking, licking, chasing every last drop of your cum like he couldn’t fathom letting any of it going to waste.

even as your body gave out and you tried to pull away— he didn’t let you. he stayed there, moaning into you, drunk on your release.

your body still trembling when he released the tight grip he had on you, letting your thighs relax, pressing soft, tender kisses along the inside of your legs. and when you looked down at him, he was already watching you with wide eyes, swollen lips, and cheeks tinted pink.

“c’mere,” he whispered. barely having the strength to move, but you wanted to be close, needing it. you climbed down slowly and he met you half way— sitting up, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

your chests pressed together and noses brushing as your foreheads touched, “you okay?” he murmured, stroking his thumb over your hip.

“yeah,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. “are you?”

he smiled, just a little, “never been better.”

your lips met again, slow as his hands roamed your back, your thighs, and your waist— like he couldn’t get enough of you.

and as your hips instinctively shifted against him, he let out the softest groan against your mouth. you felt him, already hard and ready, pressing against your pussy.

he reached down, lining himself up carefully, and you sank down on him, both of you letting out content sighs. both stilling for a moment, getting adjusted.

and then slowly, you began to move, grinding, rocking, and meeting him half way every time he lifted his hips. his hands held your waist to anchor himself in the moment, just feeling all of you.

your name left his lips like a prayer and your moans soft and breathy as your bodies rocked against each other in perfect rhythm.

your lips brushed over his jaw as your hips rolled against his, “you feel so good,” you whispered against his skin. “So deep…”

luigi groaned, tightening his arms around you, the sound buried in your shoulder, “you’re fucking perfect, pussy’s so fucking tight.” he breathed, voice low and thick.

his hands slid from your waist down to the small of your back, guiding you gently, helping you move just right— until his cock hit that sweet spot inside you that made your body jolt.

“yeah? right there?” he asked, lips brushing the shell of ear.

you nodded, nails lightly digging into his shoulders. “yes—right there, baby.”

he adjusted his angle slightly, and then a slow, precise thrust upward, so deep. and it hit, your whole body clenching around him, and your moan came out softer, higher than before.

he pulled back just enough to get a good look at you, eyes glassy, lips swollen, and tits littered in love bites. your forehead pressed to his, your bodies meeting in such an intimate rhythm.

“you make me feel so good, so full,” you whispered, barely able to speak through the heat pooling low in your stomach.

he kissed you, harder this time and then he took over, just a little. guiding your hips with one hand while the other slid down to hold your thigh as he angled his next thrust perfectly into that soft, sensitive spot inside you.

“there we go,” he rasped, dragging his lips along your neck.

“let me take care of you, baby. let me give you everything.”

his rhythm had started to slow, a bit overwhelmed. from the way your body clung to his, from how tight, how wet, how delicious you felt wrapped around him. his head dipped to your shoulder, breath ragged against your skin, big hands grasping your hips attempting to ground himself.

but you felt ready now, your body humming with energy again—refueled by every groan, every helpless twitch of his hips, and every shaky breath that tumbled from his lips.

so you started to move. a soft bounce at first, just enough to shift the angle, taking in more of him. then another. then faster. luigi gasped, back arching slightly, eyes squeezing shut as you rode him with more control.

your lips hovered near his ear, voice warm and broken in between moans, “you’re so deep inside me, gi...” he let out the quietest whimper, hands trembling against your skin.

“so big… stretching me so good. you feel it, don’t you? how wet you make me?”

he could barely speak, just nodded. barely.

and then—click. the door handle turned.

your bodies froze, just for a second, before luigi pulled you tighter against him, shielding you, even as your hips never faltered.

“yo luigi! how you holding up man?” a familiar voice called through the narrow crack in the door. he hadn’t fully stepped inside, just peeked the door open a few inches, only being able to see the edge of the bed and maybe luigi’s bare shoulder. the rest, being you fully naked and still grinding in his lap, was completely hidden by the angle.

luigi’s eyes blew wide, his breath catching in his throat.

“you—you gotta stop,” he hissed into your neck, biting back groan. “please—“

you leaned in, brushing your mouth against his ear, voice was sweet as candy while your hips rolled again, deep and slow.

“answer him.”

“let him hear how good you’re feeling.”

luigi’s hand flew to your waist, attempting to still you, but it was no use.

“i—uh,” he choked out, voice shaking. “yeah—i’m good man, just resting.”

his friend paused, “cool, just making sure. let us know if you need anything.”

you didn’t let him get a chance to recover. the second the door clicked shut, you pushed him backwards, your palms resting on his chest as you eased him down against the bed, his eyes still wide and wrecked under you.

his head hit the pillow, curls sticking to his forehead, and his chest heaving as you straddled him fully again.

“you’ve been so good,” you whispered, voice shaking with need. “but now i need more.”

and then you started to really move. your thighs burned as you began bouncing harder, hips slapping against his with wet desperate sounds, so intense, overwhelming, and fast. luigi’s hands scrambled to hold you, his fingers digging into your waist like he might slip through the bed if he didn’t anchor himself to you.

“f-fuck baby—“ he gasped, voice breaking. “that’s—too much—“ but he didn’t stop you.

he bent his knees suddenly, feet flat on the mattress and thrusted up. hard. your whole body jolted, a choked moan spilling out of your mouth as he met your bounces with the same fervor. each thrust slammed deeper and harder, matching the way you rode him until all that could be heard was skin slapping and both of you chanting each other’s names over and over.

“yesyesyes—lu, just like that—“ you cried out as he fucked up into you like he was trying to split you open from the inside.

“you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, eyes hazy and voice raw. “such a tight little pussy amore— so perfect, can’t even hold back anymore.”

your movements became sloppier, desperation seeping through, your bodies completely lost in each other. just full of need. just you and him, chasing that sweet finish with matching desperation.

your name tumbled from his mouth in broken gasps, sweat slicking his chest where your bodies met, the heat between you two unbearable in the most delicious way.

and then his voice cracked out, desperate and strained, “i—fuck—i should probably pull out.” but his hips never slowed, because he didn’t really mean it and you both knew it. you leaned forward, pressing your chest to his, mouth by his ear as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist.

“don’t,” you begged, breath heavy and hot. “i wanna feel you. want you to stay inside me.”

his groan was guttural, almost pained with how badly he had been waiting for that permission.

“fuck—fuck—“

your nails dragged down his back, your body grinding back into every one of his thrusts, and then everything shattered.

you came first, gasping, shaking, clinging to him like you wouldn’t survive without him.

“luigi—oh god baby, don’t stop—don’t—“

he followed instantly, crying out your name into your neck, hips buried to the hilt as he spilled inside you, his body trembling beneath yours as the outside world faded away.

your bodies stayed tangled for a while, skin to skin, limbs loose, and breathing slowly coming back down. the room was quiet now, except for the soft hum of the ocean breeze drifting through the balcony door.

luigi’s heartbeat thudded gently beneath your cheek as you laid against his chest your fingers tracing absentminded shapes against his ribs. eventually, he shifted beneath you, careful and slow, kissing your shoulder as he murmured, “be right back.”

he slid out from the bed with a little wince, his legs shaky and muscles drained. you watched with a sleepy smile as he padded naked across the room, grabbing a small towel from the bathroom and returning a moment later.

“here,” he whispered, eyes soft as he knelt between your legs and cleaned you up. “i got you.”

your heart fluttered.

luigi had already crawled back into bed, arms stretched behind his head, eyes half-lidded and warm as he looked at you with a soft, post-bliss smile.

you sat up slowly, reaching for the bikini top that wads left at the edge of the bed. “i should probably head back to my room,” you murmured, voice gentle. “so you can rest comfortably…”

you didn’t even get to finish your sentence when his arm reached out fast, firm as his fingers curled gently around your wrist to stop you.

“what?” he asked, brown furrowed slightly as he tugged you back down towards him.

“baby no.”

you blinked as he guided you back into his arms, your body slotting effortlessly into the space next to his.

“i wanna rest here,” he whispered, lips brushing your shoulder.

“with you.”

your heart skipped a beat as he tugged the covers up, over both your naked bodies. he nuzzled into your chest, one arm round your waist, the other lazily cupping one of your tits.

“m’tired,” he murmured. “wouldn’t be smart of you to leave your patient alone away.”

your fingers threaded into his curls, your other one rubbing up and down his spine.

“how’s your back?” you asked softly.

“feels perfect,” he mumbled, voice already dying down. “because you’re here with me.”

within seconds, his breath evened out, warm against your skin. and you were left with a sleeping, heavy luigi tangled into your bare body, like his life depended on it.

Luigi celebrating his birthday in my tomodachi life 🍰♡ ༘*.ﾟ🧸

Soft Girls Don’t Stay

Part I – I Wanted to Be That Woman

(“Sí, yo quería ser esa mujer / La madre de tus hijos…”)

It started like all the stories that don’t end well do—slow, careful, innocent. A friendship. A bond so natural it didn’t feel like anything at first. Just comfort. Just ease. Just him.

You met Luigi in college. You were nineteen, heartbroken over some boy who didn’t even like himself, let alone know how to love you. Luigi was two years older. Funny. Smart in the quiet way, where he didn’t need to prove it. The kind of guy who made you feel safe just by being there.

He never tried to make a move. Not then. He was just… there.

The one you called when you needed help with insurance. The one who showed up outside your apartment when you said you were fine but your texts were off.

The one who listened.

The one who always stayed.

You didn’t realize when it shifted.

When friendship started to taste like something else.

Maybe it was the night you watched that stupid movie on his couch and your legs brushed—and neither of you moved. Or when he came to your place after his ex cheated and you spent the night on the floor beside his bed, holding his hand in the dark.

You were just friends.

Friends who slept in the same bed.

Friends who told each other everything.

Friends who started to look at each other a little too long, too late, too often.

“Y juntos caminar hacia el altar / Directo hacia la muerte…”

You knew the moment you were gone for him.

It was the night your last boyfriend left you crying on the sidewalk outside a party. You called Luigi. No words. Just sobs. He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t hesitate. He came.

You remember sitting in the passenger seat of his car, hoodie pulled over your knees, mascara streaked down your face, and him looking over at you like you were breakable. Like he didn’t know what to say—but would still sit with you in the silence until it felt like breathing again.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he said.

You looked at him, eyes swollen. “Then stop leaving every time I start needing you.”

It slipped out. And he didn’t answer.

Just reached over and took your hand.

⸻

You didn’t talk about it the next day.

You never talked about it.

That was your pattern: almosts. Stares. Brushed hands. Long hugs. Texts that said “come over?” and replies that said “I was already on my way.”

You had other people. So did he.

But they didn’t feel like anything.

Sex with them was just movement.

But sex with each other?

It felt like gravity.

⸻

The first time you slept together, it wasn’t planned. It never was.

You were wearing a big t-shirt and nothing else, curled on his couch after another hard week, your legs in his lap. He was talking about a fight with his dad, something old and unresolved. You reached up, brushed a curl behind his ear without thinking.

He froze.

So did you.

Then he kissed you.

Slow. Deep. Like he’d been waiting years.

And maybe he had.

You ended up in his bed. Skin on skin. Breath on breath.

It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t messy. It wasn’t loud.

It was real. So real it made you want to cry. The kind of touch that makes you forget where your body ends and theirs begins.

He said your name like it was a secret. Like a prayer.

And when he came, he buried his face in your neck and whispered, “You feel like home.”

⸻

But in the morning?

He was different.

Quieter. Softer. Still there—but already slipping away.

And you let it happen. Again.

Because that’s what you did.

⸻

That summer, you weren’t together.

But he still got jealous.

You were at a party, laughing at some guy’s joke. Luigi saw you from across the room. His jaw clenched. You could feel it before you even turned around.

Later that night, he cornered you in the hallway.

“You like him?” he asked.

You blinked. “We’re not doing this.”

He stepped closer. “You were touching him.”

“He touched me.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, well, it looked like you wanted it.”

You crossed your arms. “Why do you care?”

He looked at you like you had said something offensive. “Because you’re mine.”

The silence after that was deafening.

You whispered, “Then say it. Out loud. Call me yours.”

He stared at you.

Didn’t say a word.

So you turned around. And walked away.

“Y al final, ni hablar / Los dos nos destruimos…”

⸻

That’s how it always went.

He was there—but not fully.

You loved him—but never enough to stop hurting.

And still, if he called, you came.

If you cried, he showed up.

You once told your best friend, “I know he’s not mine. But it feels like he is. In the ways that count.”

She said, “Then maybe those aren’t the ways that should count.”

⸻

And now, five months later—

You’re folding laundry on the floor of your bedroom when you hear it:

Three soft knocks.

Your whole body stills.

You press your fingers to your lips.

“No,” you whisper to no one. “Not now. Not again.”

You tiptoe to the door. Look through the peephole.

And there he is.

Luigi.

Same curls. Same hoodie. Same hands that used to know how to undo you.

Your heart drops.

And all you hear, again, is the lyric that never stops echoing when it comes to him:

“Y al final, ¿qué tal? / Tú y yo ya no existimos…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part II – I Still Smell Like Yours

“No, no quiero ser esa mujer / Ella se fue a un abismo…”

He didn’t bring flowers. He brought a box. A worn, cardboard box with your handwriting on the side—half-faded hearts you’d drawn in Sharpie a lifetime ago. Inside, you already knew what you’d find: your sweatshirt, your journal, probably that hair clip he used to slide off you like undressing was second nature.

He didn’t knock like he was sorry.

He knocked like he was hoping you’d still answer.

And you did.

Because of course you did.

You opened the door slowly, quietly, like maybe if you moved gently enough, the past wouldn’t rush in behind him. But the second you saw him—same curls, same hoodie, same mouth you used to kiss just to shut him up—it hit you like heat.

And worse?

He looked relieved to see you.

“Hey,” he said, voice low.

You didn’t say anything.

He shifted, awkward. Held up the box like a white flag.

“I found this in my closet. Thought it was yours.”

You folded your arms. “You drove all this way for a box?”

He glanced down. Shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“Bullshit.”

He smiled, just barely. “Yeah.”

A pause.

“You gonna let me in?”

You should’ve said no.Should’ve slammed the door and let him carry his regrets back home. But your body moved before your brain could catch up.

You stepped aside.

The air changed the second he walked in.

He looked around like the room still belonged to him. Like nothing had changed. Like you hadn’t cried into your pillow every night for the first three weeks after he ghosted you in broad daylight.

His eyes landed on the candle burning by the window. Vanilla and rosewater.

He closed his eyes for a beat.

“You still wear that lotion?”

You didn’t answer.

He smiled to himself. “Of course you do.”

You stayed near the door, arms crossed. “Ten minutes. That’s all you get.”

He set the box down. “You look good.”

“Luigi.”

“Just saying.”

“You don’t get to say that anymore.”

⸻

Silence. The kind that buzzes in your ears.

He turned to face you fully now. His voice softened. “I missed you.”

You shook your head. “No. You missed the way I loved you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?”

He stepped closer. Not touching. Just near enough that it felt like skin on skin.

“You think I didn’t love you?” he said, voice low.

“I think you loved me the way scared people do,” you said. “Only when I wasn’t asking for anything.”

He blinked.

You pressed on.

“I never wanted a superhero, Lu. I just wanted someone who wouldn’t run every time it got real.”

“Tú no eres aquel que prometió / Sería mi superhéroe…”

His jaw tensed. “You think it was easy for me?”

“You made it look effortless.”

“That’s not—”

“I begged you,” you snapped. “I fucking begged you to just show up. To tell me it wasn’t all in my head. And you left me on read.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“So you said nothing? For months?”

His voice cracked. “I was scared.”

You laughed. It was bitter and small. “You were scared? I let you see all of me. I made you my safest place. I would’ve done anything for you.”

“I know.”

“Then why wasn’t I ever enough?”

The words hung there. Heavy. Sacred.

He stepped forward again. Too close now.

“You were always enough,” he whispered. “That’s what scared me.”

You stared at him. Your throat burned.

“Don’t,” you said, voice barely holding. “Don’t do this if you’re not going to stay.”

He touched your cheek. Just barely. Fingers brushing skin like it still belonged to him.

“I never stopped thinking about you.”

“You stopped calling me.”

His hand dropped. “I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me.”

“I didn’t,” you whispered. “But I wanted you to want to try.”

His eyes dropped to your lips.

You felt your heart stutter.

Because you wanted him to kiss you.

God, you still did.

But you couldn’t afford it. Not again. Not this time.

He looked at the couch, then back at you. “Can I sit?”

You nodded slowly.

He sat, elbows on knees, staring at the floor. You stayed standing.

He looked up. “You look happy.”

“Does that bother you?”

A beat.

“Yes.”

You moved to the arm of the couch, careful not to be close. He turned his head toward you.

“You see anyone?” he asked.

You smirked. “Would it matter?”

“Don’t.”

You tilted your head. “Why not? You saw other people. You had no problem letting them touch what I built.”

His brows pulled together. “That’s not fair.”

“You’re right,” you said. “Because at least they knew what we were.”

You stared at each other. You saw it in his face—the pain. The wanting. The jealousy.

“You were never mine,” he said, voice soft. “But you always felt like you were.”

Your eyes welled.

“And that’s the problem.”

In the silence that followed, you both knew:

There was no button to bring you back to the beginning.

No reset. No rose-colored ending.

Just this.

Just heartbreak dressed like history.

“¿Y dónde quedó ese botón / Que lleva a la felicidad?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part III – The Goodbye I Deserved

“Y que todo acabó, no queda más / Seremos dos extraños…”

You didn’t mean to sit down.

But your legs gave in before your pride did.

You were on the far end of the couch now, knees pulled up, palms clenched. Luigi sat across from you, elbows on his knees, like he was waiting for the right time to speak.

Like this was a funeral.

And he’d shown up late with nothing to offer but the truth.

“I used to picture it,” he said quietly. “Us. A place together. You in my hoodie, yelling at me for using the wrong sponge on the dishes.”

You looked down. Smiled without warmth. “You never said that before.”

“I didn’t know how to say anything before.”

You scoffed. “No. You just left.”

He nodded. Took it. “I know.”

A long pause.

“You were the only one I told everything to,” he said. “The only one who made me feel like I wasn’t too much. You made the world quieter.”

“And you made mine louder,” you said, looking up. “You made me doubt myself. You made me wait. You made me feel like love was something I had to earn.”

He winced.

You continued, voice steady now. “I wanted to be that woman. The one you saw a future with. The one who got your last name, your kids, your ugly coffee mugs.”

“Sí, yo quería ser esa mujer / La madre de tus hijos…”

Your throat tightened.

“I would’ve built a life with you, Luigi,” you said, barely above a whisper. “I would’ve chosen you. Over and over. Even when you didn’t choose me back.”

He looked broken now.

“I still would,” he said, voice raw. “If you let me.”

You stared at him. Silent.

And that silence was the answer.

He exhaled. Closed his eyes. Rubbed his hands together like he could warm up from the cold you’d become.

When he spoke again, his voice cracked in places it never used to.

“I know I fucked up,” he said. “I know I didn’t show up when it mattered. But if you ever need me—if you’re ever falling apart at 2AM or you just need someone to show up without asking why—”

He looked up.

“I’ll be there.”

You blinked. He kept going.

“I’ll always be here. I’ll always wait for you. Even if you never come back.”

There it was.

The thing you wanted for so long.

Too late.

But still.

You let yourself feel it.

You crossed the space between you. Sat next to him. Pressed your forehead to his.

“You were my favorite almost,” you whispered. “But I can’t keep choosing you in every lifetime where you never choose me.”

His hands trembled as they gripped your waist, but he didn’t pull you in.

He knew better now.

You stayed like that for a moment. One last inhale. One last warmth.

Then you stood.

He watched you walk to the door. Barefoot. Steady.

You looked back only once.

And with the softest voice you’d ever used on him, you said:

“Goodbye, Luigi.”

“Yo te olvidaré, me olvidarás… hasta nunca.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I hope you guys like this hate to admit it but I cried while writing this (:

@luigisbambinaaa @luigis-wetdream @multi-culti-girl @mangionesdaisy @snoopy184 @daydreamingwithluigi @iinfinitelimits

bliss

warnings: none just fluff :)

──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────

you always tease your boyfriend for being a heavy sleeper. honestly, the world could be ending, and he’d still be snoring his little head off. he always blushes and denies it, but you’ve seen the proof. especially this morning.

you hear your alarm that you set last night blaring as you wake from your slumber, feeling the warmth of the bed, of the boy in your arms who’s dead to the world, who has his face nestled between your breasts like they’re his personal pillow.

“lu…” you utter his name softly, while trying to move. “i have to get up and get ready for work, and so do you. you gotta go to work too.”

he doesn’t budge. not even a little. you just hear a sleepy sigh come out of him as he burrows further into you like a stubborn cat.

“lu,” you try again, shaking his shoulder gently. still nothing. how he’s able to sleep through your alarm blaring as loud as a siren you will never understand.

you huff, resorting to poking his cheek. “come on, baby, wake up.”

finally, you gently lift up his head and press a kiss to both of his cheeks, showing his beauty marks some love, then…

“i’m up, i’m up,” he mumbles groggily, cracking one eye open.

you roll your eyes, but the fond smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “and you always love to tell me that you aren’t a heavy sleeper.”

he groans dramatically, planting kisses onto your breasts. “shut up…” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

you smile wider. he’s always such a soft baby in the mornings.

“anyway,” you giggle, slipping your fingers into his rowdy curls and giving them a light tug. “we need to shower.”

he sighs, reluctant, his head now buried in the crook of your neck. “too early…” he murmurs, his voice still sleepy.

“you say that every morning,” you tease, nudging him. “come on, we both have jobs to get to. besides, you smell like sleep and laziness.”

“meannnnnn!” he whines, finally letting you go and stretching with a yawn. you take the opportunity to grab your phone and finally put an end to your deafening alarm.

“thank you,” you coo, giving the phone a triumphant glare before tossing it aside.

luigi groans again but sits up, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “do we have toooo?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep. his eyes are half open, and your heart melts as you take in just how much he resembles an innocent little boy getting dragged out of bed on a weekend.

“yes we have to,” you smile as you get out of bed to stand up and stretch. “i told you baby, we both have to go to work, otherwise we’ll both be poor!” you giggle again, taking his hand to remove him from the comfort of the blankets.

he sighs, but eventually, follows you toward the bathroom. he stumbles behind you, clinging to your hand as if he might fall back into bed if you let go.

you enter the bathroom, flicking on the light as he exhales, still clinging to you. “too bright…” he mutters, squinting.

you let go of his hand and pull your underwear, the only piece of clothing you wore to bed last night, off. it always got too warm in your room at night, so underwear was the only thing you’d wear to sleep. luigi never minded though, it meant that he could just snuggle his face into your breasts like a baby.

“now come on,” you nudge him playfully. “strip!”

he sluggishly hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his calvin kleins. with a tired huff, he pulls them down, stepping out of them clumsily, still half asleep. you can’t help but smile as he wobbles slightly, blinking against the bathroom light. he’s just so cute.

even when he’s in this state, he’s beautiful. you’ve always loved his body. yes you love it in a sexual way, but also in a way that makes your heart feel content. the way his toned abs glisten in the bathroom lighting, the subtle definition along his waist, the faint marks from where he’s stretched and grown. he’s warm and familiar, the kind of person who feels like home even when he’s doing something as simple as standing there, blinking sleepily at you.

you’re snapped back to reality when you hear him ask you a question, his voice not sounding sleepy anymore, but rather shy.

“why are you staring at me?”

you blink, caught, but you don’t deny it. instead you step forward, softly running a hand down his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “i just love looking at you.” you admit.

luigi blinks at you for a second before a slow, lopsided smirk tugs at his lips. the shyness gone, his eyes now shimmering with something smug. “yeah?” he hums, tilting his head. “can’t get enough of me, huh?”

you roll your eyes and plant a kiss on his cheek, before pulling your hand away from his chest and heading towards the shower. “don’t let it get to your head now!” you tease, though the fondness in your voice betrays you.

he chuckles, standing up a little straighter, clearly enjoying the attention. “too late.”

just as you step into the shower, you feel his hand smack your bare ass, making you yelp.

“luuuuu!” you squeal, and you whirl around to find him grinning, looking far too pleased with himself.

“sorry,” he hums, not looking sorry at all. “saw the opportunity right in front of me and i just had to take it. especially when you’re right in front of me looking like that.”

you narrow your eyes at him, but with the way your boyfriend is rubbing the sleep crust from his tear ducts, looking all adorable, makes it impossible for you to be angry at him. not that you are angry, if anything you love it. you love the way that even though he’s half asleep, he’s still playful. you love the way that he feels as though he can touch any part of your body without hesitation.

shaking your head, you turn on the shower and grab his wrist, tugging him under the water. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet you love me,” he teases, pressing a wet kisses to your forehead. “you love me sooo much.”

you try to feign nonchalance, but you can’t help but smile. “i do.”

the warm water flows over both of you, the steam rising around you, creating a soft, peaceful haze. luigi’s grin fades into a relaxed smile as you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his damp chest.

he lets out a happy huff, one hand gently running through your hair as he holds you close.

“this is nice,” he murmurs, placing kisses into your now wet hair. “mornings like this… make getting up early almost worth it.”

you smile against him, savoring the simple comfort of being wrapped up in his embrace. “see? waking up early isn’t all bad!” you tease.

he chuckles quietly, rubbing your back as the water continues to get warmer. “maybe… but only if i get to do this with you every morning.”

you tighten your hold on him, feeling his warmth seep into you. work, your other responsibilities, all of a sudden seem so far away. right now, it’s just the two of you, sharing this quiet, blissful moment.

you could get used to this.

──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────

i’m so sorry if this is bad omg i haven’t written anything in years! i thought that after today’s news that this might lift the mood :) let me know what u guys think of this!! love u all!!

holy fuckkk 😩😭

indulge me i don’t even know with what but god there is is a DROUGHT

getting even

summary: you and your ex boyfriend luigi cuck your current idiot of a boyfriend after you catch him in bed with a HOOKER 😱

warnings: male tears, cucking, head (f!receiving) luigi is cocky asf and a munch

notes: please ignore. way too high and thought this was profound

“are you FUCKING kidding me?”

there your boyfriend was, in bed with a hooker. you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

well that’s a lie, if anything you knew this would come eventually, you’d just been way too naive to admit it to yourself.

malcom’s eyes widened as he scrambles to cover himself, his face flushing red.

"b-b-baby, p-please," he stammers, tripping over his words like an absolute numptie. “it’s n-not what it l-looks like!"

you cross your arms, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as you mock his pathetic stutter. "b-b-bullshit, m-malcom! i let you live here r-r-rent f-f-free and this is how you r-r-repay m-me???”

your eyes darted to the prostitute still sprawled across your bed, clutching the sheets like they’d save her.

with a voice sharp enough to cut glass, you snap, “and you, get the fuck out of my house, NOW!”

the woman flinched, scrambling to gather her scattered clothes in a frantic heap. as she stumbled to her feet, she shot malcom a venomous glare, spat directly on his chest, and hissed, “DICKHEAD!” clutching her belongings, she bolted out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hall.

you turn your gaze to malcom, who sat frozen, the spit glistening on his chest, his mouth agape like a fish out of water. with a voice cold and steady, you murmur “put some clothes on and pack your shit.”

malcom’s eyes glisten with tears, his lip trembling as he looked up at you, desperation in his voice. “no.” he chokes out, shaking his head weakly.

your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a smirk curling your lips as you lean n slightly. “no? you sure?” you said, voice dripping with mockery. “alright, i’ll just give luigi a call then, heard he’s back in town.”

⊹˚✧₊‿︵ʚɞ︵‿₊✧˚⊹

luigi, your ex boyfriend, was someone you parted ways with not because of any betrayal or lack of chemistry, but simply because the distance between you became too much to deal with. you met him a few years back when you were both at the same college, and the connection was instant. electric, even.

he was charming, confident, and had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room. but when he moved across the country for a job, the strain of a long distance relationship wore you both down. late night calls and sporadic visits couldn’t sustain the spark, so you mutually decided to end it, though you stayed on good terms. there was always a lingering "what if" in the back of your mind when it came to him.

now, standing in front of malcom, the contrast between the two men couldn’t be starker. sex with luigi was something else entirely… passionate, intense, and deeply satisfying. he knew exactly how to touch you, how to read your body, and he took his time, making sure you were left trembling and breathless.

with luigi, you never had to fake it, he could make you cum effortlessly, sometimes multiple times in a single night, leaving you blissed out and craving more. it was like he had a map to your desires, and he navigated it with ease.

malcom, on the other hand, was a disappointment in comparison. sex with him was lackluster, rushed, and entirely focused on his own pleasure. you couldn’t remember the last time he’d even come close to getting you there.

it was mechanical, predictable, and left you feeling more frustrated than fulfilled. where luigi was a maestro in bed, malcom was like a clumsy amateur, fumbling through without a clue.

⊹˚✧₊‿︵ʚɞ︵‿₊✧˚⊹

malcom’s teary eyes narrow at your taunt, his voice shaking but defiant. “you wouldn’t dare.” he said as he tried to call your bluff.

you smirk, unfazed, and pull your phone from your pocket. without breaking eye contact, you scroll to luigi’s name, tap the call button, and put it on speaker.

malcom sits there on the bed, frozen in shock, his wide eyes locked on the phone as if it were a ticking bomb. his mouth hangs open, the spit on his chest still glistening, his earlier defiance crumbling into pure panic.

after a few rings, the call connected, and luigi’s warm, familiar voice fills the room.

“hey you,” he says, his tone casual but laced with a hint of surprise and affection.

“heyy,” you reply, your voice smooth and deliberate. “heard you were back in town. been thinking about you lately.”

luigi chuckles, his voice dropping playfully. “oh yeah? you miss me?”

you lean against the wall, letting your tone turn flirty, a teasing edge to it. “yes, in fact… come over and fuck me.”

malcom’s jaw dropped further, his face paling as he stares, utterly speechless.

luigi pauses for a beat, then asked “what about that guy you’re with? whats-his-face?”

you rolled your eyes, glancing at malcom with disgust. “i just caught him in bed with a hooker,” you said flatly, watching malcom flinch as if you’d slapped him.

luigi burst out laughing, the sound rich and unrestrained. “i warned you about him.”

you sighed, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “i know, i’m an idiot, okay? i own up to it. shut up and come over. i miss your dick.”

luigi’s voice dropped, thick with heat. “well i miss how your pretty pussy tastes. it’s all i think about whenever i jerk off.”

you purr into the phone, “i know, baby.”

he chuckles darkly. “how about i eat you out while he watches?”

malcom lets out a choked sob, his hands covering his face as fat tears stream down his cheeks, his body shaking with pathetic whimpers.

you glance at him, then smirk. “you know what? that’s a good idea.”

luigi’s tone is all business now, laced with anticipation. “i’ll be there in 10 minutes.” the call ended with a click.

you toss the phone onto the bed and fix your gaze on malcom, who’s still sobbing, his face buried in his hands. “hear that?” you say, your voice sharp and unyielding. “and you’re gonna stay and watch. understand?”

malcom shoulders shake, but he lifts his head just enough to nod, tears streaking his face, his eyes hollow with defeat.

your anger flares, and you step closer, voice rising. “say you understand!”

malcom flinches, his voice barely a whisper through his sobs. “i understand.”

you smile.

“thank you.”

⊹˚✧₊‿︵ʚɞ︵‿₊✧˚⊹

ten minutes later, a sharp, confident knock reverberates through the house, pulling you from the haze of your fury.

you stride to the front door, pulse hammering in your veins, and fling it open. there stands luigi, looking like he stepped out of a fever dream. he’s even sexier than you remember, his dark hair slightly tousled, his jawline sharper, muscles taut under a fitted black shirt that clings to his frame.

his eyes lock onto yours, sparking with that familiar mix of mischief and hunger. a slow, dangerous smirk curls his lips, and before he can say a word, you grab the collar of his shirt, yank him toward you, and crash your lips into his.

the kiss is fierce, all heat and urgency, your tongues tangling as his strong hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. You’re still standing in the open doorway, the cool night air brushing your skin, but the world beyond him doesn’t exist.

he breaks the kiss just enough to lean in, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, “missed you.”

“i missed you too.” you reply, your voice a sultry purr, thick with want as you linger close, your fingers still curled in his shirt.

his smirk widens, and he tilts his head, glancing past you into the house. “so, where’s the asshole?”

you chuckle, a dark edge to it, and step back, offering him your hand. “right this way.”

you lace your fingers with his, his grip warm and firm, and lead him through the house, your heels clicking on the hardwood floor. the anticipation builds with every step, a delicious coil of heat tightening in your core. when you reach the bedroom doorway, you pause, taking in the sorry sight before you.

malcom is still slumped on the bed, a sniveling mess, his face splotchy and red from crying. tears stream down his cheeks, his hands tremble in his lap, and he’s too paralyzed by shock to even move. he looks like a broken toy, discarded and pathetic.

luigi leans casually against the doorframe, his smirk sharpening as he sizes malcom up. “hey man.” he says, voice smooth and taunting. “i’m luigi. what’s your name?”

malcom’s head jerks up, his bloodshot eyes blazing with a mix of shame and fury. “you know my name! we went to penn together!” he snaps, his voice cracking, the words half swallowed by a sob.

luigi lets out a low, mocking laugh, unfazed, and steps closer, his presence commanding the room. he looms over Malcolm, his tone shifting to something colder, more pointed. “now why the fuck would you cheat on someone like her?” he asks, gesturing toward you with a tilt of his head.

“look at her, she’s smart as hell, kind, gorgeous, the whole package. what kind of idiot throws that away?”

you roll your eyes, the flattery stoking the fire already burning inside you. stepping toward luigi, you let your hand trail across his chest, your voice dropping to a sultry, impatient drawl. “kiss me.”

⊹˚✧₊‿︵ʚɞ︵‿₊✧˚⊹

you’ve always dreamt about having sex with luigi again, the memory of his touch haunting your late night fantasies long after you parted ways.

his hands knew exactly where to grip, his mouth where to linger, his cock hitting every spot with relentless precision until you were a trembling, moaning wreck. he’d fuck you with a rhythm that felt like it was carved into your soul, deep, deliberate thrusts that stretched you perfectly, his fingers teasing your clit in sync until you shattered, screaming his name as your pussy clenched around him.

no one else ever came close to that kind of ecstasy, least of all malcom, whose clumsy attempts barely registered. but as much as you craved luigi’s body again, you never imagined it would happen like this… in front of another man, with malcom’s pathetic sobs as the backdrop.

currently, you’re sprawled on the bedroom floor, the cool hardwood pressing against your back as luigi’s face is buried between your thighs. his tongue is a fucking revelation, lapping at your dripping cunt with a hunger that makes your toes curl. he’s sliding two fingers deep inside you, curling them just right to hit that spot that sends electric shocks through your core.

his lips close around your swollen clit, sucking hard, then flicking it with quick, precise strokes of his tongue, each one pulling a desperate moan from your throat. your juices coat his chin, glistening as he groans against your pussy, the vibration making your hips buck.

he’s relentless, his fingers pumping in and out, slick and fast, while his mouth works your clit like he’s starving for it, teasing every sensitive nerve until your vision blurs. your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, grinding your core against his face as you chase the edge of oblivion.

malcom’s still there, slumped on the bed, his tear-streaked face a distant blur. his whimpers are white noise, drowned out by the wet sounds of luigi’s tongue and the ragged gasps spilling from your lips. you didn’t expect this, luigi devouring you on the floor while malcom watches, broken and irrelevant but the raw power of it, the sheer dominance, only makes your pleasure sharper.

his fingers thrust deeper, curling inside your soaking cunt, stretching you just right as he pumps them in and out, the slick sounds mingling with your ragged moans. he pulls back for a moment, his lips glistening with your arousal, his eyes dark with hunger as he growls, “missed doing this.”

you moan, your voice thick with need, “i know.” your hips buck toward his face, desperate for more, and he dives back in without hesitation. his tongue lashes at your clit, flicking it in rapid, teasing strokes before he sucks it hard, drawing a cry from your lips. his fingers don’t stop, plunging deeper, faster, the wet squelch of your pussy filling the room as he works you toward the edge. he’s messy, ravenous, his chin drenched with your juices as he licks and sucks, his groans vibrating against your sensitive folds.

he lifts his head just enough to glance at malcom, his voice dripping with mockery. “see, asshole? this is how you please a woman.” his tongue dives back in, lapping at your dripping slit, tracing every fold before sucking your clit again, harder this time, making your back arch off the floor. his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust, sending sparks of pleasure through your core.

malcom’s sobs grow louder, a pathetic wail that cuts through the haze of your pleasure but doesn’t dim it. he’s still slumped on the bed, his tear streaked face twisted in anguish, but he’s nothing. just a shadow in the room as luigi claims you.

luigi doesn’t stop, his tongue relentless, swirling and flicking your clit while his fingers fuck you deeper, the wet sounds obscene as your pussy clenches around him. his lips graze your folds, sucking them softly before diving back to your clit, teasing it with quick, precise licks that make your moans turn to screams. your hands claw at his hair, pulling him closer as your thighs tremble, the edge of release so close you can taste it.

“i’m gonna cum!” you gasp, your voice hoarse, desperate, your pussy clenching around his fingers as the pleasure surges.

luigi’s eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and feral, his lips glistening with your juices. “yeah, cum in my mouth,” he growls, his voice low and hungry. “i want it all.” he dives back in, his tongue lashing at your swollen clit, sucking it hard before flicking it in rapid, teasing strokes.

his fingers pump faster, deeper, curling just right, and the wet sounds of your pussy fill the room as he pushes you over the brink.

your orgasm hits like a tidal wave, a scream tearing from your throat as your body convulses. your pussy spasms around his fingers, gushing as waves of pleasure crash through you, your juices flooding his mouth. luigi moans, his tongue lapping up every drop, greedy and relentless.

he doesn’t stop, his lips sucking your clit softly now, then licking along your slick folds, drinking in every bit of your release. his fingers slow but stay buried inside you, coaxing out the last shudders of your climax as your body trembles, your chest heaving with ragged gasps.

his chin is drenched, glistening with your cum, and he groans again, savoring the taste as he licks you clean, his tongue tracing every sensitive inch of your pulsing cunt.

you collapse back against the floor, your body spent, the afterglow washing over you like a warm tide. luigi stays between your thighs for a moment, his breath hot against your skin as he presses a final, lingering kiss to your clit, making you twitch.

then he shifts, stretching out beside you, his body warm and solid against yours. his hand rests on your thigh, possessive, as you both lie there, the air thick with the scent of sex and the quiet hum of your shared satisfaction. your heart still races, your skin tingling with the memory of his touch, and you can feel the slickness between your legs, the evidence of what he’s done to you.

luigi turns his head, his eyes narrowing as they land on malcom, still slumped on the bed, his face a mess of tears and snot, his crying having now subsided.

his voice cuts through the room, cold and commanding, dripping with disdain. “i think you should get the fuck out of her house and never come back.”

ur all probably gonna read this and be like “palmy what the fuck” but i had to get this out of my system idk😭

tags: @alleviatcd @luigisbambinaaa @diors002 @corrodeddeadlydoll @contrarianshitstan-blog @weegeewifey @mangionesdoll @mangobabygirl @luigisnumber1fan @fligniuz @number1yearner @soulsmangione @ohsorrythen @bbyelle12 @briarloves @mangionesdaisy @thm12 @purplebadd1e @kikigoogoogaga @daydreamingwithluigi

masterlist | previous work

appreciation post for this little curl on luigi’s ear that happens sometimes

“it’s okay, your secret is safe with me” and winks??? ohhhhh😖

Is he gonna fuck me hard or not whats up

damnit anon now i am itching to write a oneshot based on this but i have too many things to work on so i can’t do all that rn…take this instead:

he thinks about it, for sure. probably fucks his fist a few nights thinking about you using your toy—he almost hopes that he’ll overhear it, but it never quite happens. he keeps trying to run into you again, but, much to his horror, you seem to be avoiding him, either out of embarrassment or maybe anger. regardless, he can’t have that. so one day when you leave to go to work you catch a note taped to your front door:

“Dear neighbor,

We don’t quite know each other, so I’ll keep this blunt: I truly hope I didn’t embarrass you with the package incident. I wanted to reach out and apologize for it, and let you know that I don’t think any differently of you—after all, I don’t have much to compare it to…

I’m not sure if this will quell your feelings about it. It might just make it worse, and if it does have that effect, I’d like to apologize for that too. You absolutely don’t have to respond, and I won’t expect that from you, so no pressure. I just wanted to make it known to you that I’m deeply sorry for any mortification it may have caused you, and I hope that we can move on from this with no hard feelings—but if that can’t quite happen, I understand completely.

Your neighbor, Luigi”

you ponder it for a bit. your nerves would probably settle if you just left it alone and forgot about the whole debacle, but you still haven’t quite made any friends in the area, and this is an opportunity, no matter how strange. eventually, once the initial anxiety has worn off, you decide to leave your own note on his door:

“Luigi,

Can I buy you a beer?

Your neighbor, ___”

luigi’s smile when he sees the surprise you’ve left for him is truly a sight to behold. and right then he takes a risk he wouldn’t have imagined he’d ever pull off had you asked him just minutes before he got here: he stops inside his place to grab two heinekens and then walks right over and knocks on your door. it’s a toss-up—he’s not even sure if you’re home—but sure enough, you open the door and are met with your neighbor’s handsome face once more, this time blushing and holding two beers, still grinning like an idiot.

“good news: you don’t have to buy me a beer,” he says.

so you crack open the bottle he hands you and the two of you sit and drink and talk, mostly about the package thing, but you get to learn a bit about your neighbor and new friend, too. maybe he mentions pokémon and you’re still holding on to your card collection from years ago, so you offer to show him—but maybe you should’ve tidied up your room before inviting someone in, let alone him, because right on your nightstand hooked up to your charging port is the very vibrator your cute neighbor accidentally opened. you stammer and apologize profusely and rush to stuff it into a drawer, but…

“that thing been working well for you?” luigi jokes.

and something in the air changes. maybe it’s the beer (probably not—he only brought two). but right then you take a risk you wouldn’t have imagined you’d ever pull off had you asked yourself just minutes before he knocked on your door: you grab your cute neighbor by his jacket and pull him in for a kiss, rushed and messy, with teeth clanking and noses bumping. and then you have a whiplash-inducing moment of clarity.

“fuck, i’m sorry—”

but before you can even finish apologizing luigi is kissing you again, hands planted firmly on your hips as he guides you to your bed…and i think you can imagine where that road ends and a new one begins ;-)

ughh newly married and he’s just can’t believe he’s able to call u his wife now💔that man CANNOT stop fucking u MORE Thoughts PLS

no like im obsessed with him being obsessed calling you his wife and mrs mangione something about seeing 'the mangiones' on paper makes him melt, kisses your left hand and plays with your rings all the time bc he likes knowing they're there, already talking about babies too ugh shut up esp when fucking and is also always telling u how lucky he is

so obsessed with 'making love' like u guys come back from ur honeymoon and ur def sore lol which leads to a nice bath together ugh like wants u any time; something about the domesticity adn ur love for each other and the intimacy makes him go crazyyy