Omg.

omg I saw this post and immediately drafted something… here’s a lil drabble ^_^ credit to the anon because I’ve stolen your idea and turned it into this :’)

@diors002 I love you because I can’t stop thinking about that picture of him looking up..

🍓

Omg I Saw This Post And Immediately Drafted Something… Here’s A Lil Drabble ^_^ Credit To The Anon

NSFW: p in v sex during second trimester of pregnancy, breastfeeding, lactation kink

The night had been slow and dreamy, one of those evenings where everything just felt perfect. After work, Luigi had cradled you in his arms as you cooked dinner, all broad shoulders and warm hands, voice soft and soothing as he told you about his day.

You fed him lasagna — simple enough, but he moaned like it was gourmet because his wife had made it. Afterward, he sat on the couch with your swollen feet in his lap, strong hands kneading gently, eyes drifting to your bump and your chest with that look that hadn’t left his face in months: awe, pride, hunger.

Eventually, the two of you had moved to the bedroom.

Now you’re here, on top of him, slowly rocking your hips, swollen belly rising and falling between you both. The sheets pool around your waist. Your body is flushed and glowing, dim light golden across your skin. His hands are everywhere — palming your ass, stroking your thighs, but mostly… your breasts.

He’s obsessed. Has been for weeks.

Luigi groans softly, mouth hot and open over one of your nipples, sucking lazily, like he could stay there forever. “They’re so full, baby,” he breathes, voice muffled. “So heavy.”

You giggle breathlessly, fingers threading through his curls. “Feels good — they’ve been so sore.”

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, nuzzling deeper.

He kisses down, then sucks again, harder now. You gasp, rocking a little faster, your body aching and oversensitive in all the right ways.

And then— suddenly you feel it. A warm, soft pressure… then a trickle. Luigi pauses. Freezes, actually.

He pulls back a little and blinks. You both glance down at the same time where a small wet patch glistens on your nipple.

Your eyes widen. “Oh—”

Luigi’s mouth falls open a little. He looks stunned. A drop of milk glistens on his bottom lip. His hazel eyes dart up to you — doe-eyed, boyish, totally gone.

“Luigi, what…” you start, breath catching. “What is — did I just…?”

His cock twitches inside you. Hard.

And instead of finding it strange and pulling away — he moans.

Then he leans back in. And sucks even harder.

You gasp, completely dumbfounded, hands on his shoulders as he latches on like it’s the most natural, necessary thing in the world. He’s all flushed and breathless and his hands are gripping your hips tighter, rolling them against his lap again like he can’t decide what he wants more — your tits or your pussy.

“Luigi—” you whisper, shocked and turned on and slightly overwhelmed. “What are you doing?”

He looks up at you, lips wet and pink, milk at the corner of his mouth, eyes half-lidded and reverent. “Tastes good,” he murmurs, voice thick. “Perfect, bambina… so sweet.”

You just gaze down at him, mouth slightly open, thighs trembling.

And then you bounce again, slow and deep, watching his pupils dilate as he cups your breasts, mouth returning to suck at the other nipple like he needs it.

The mix of sensation — your body filled, your chest heavy and leaking, his cock twitching inside you — it’s overwhelming in the best way.

You moan, breathless, hands tugging at his curls now. “Fuck, Lu — that’s it, baby, ‘m so sensitive.”

He just hums against your skin, the noise vibrating against the nipple he’s currently attending to.

“I want this with you forever. Wanna give you more of my babies. Stay buried in you. Taste you like this and keep you full.”

You shiver, overstimulated and melting.

This becomes your thing together. After a long day, when he’s tired, craving his wife, and you’re sore and achy, you’ll ride him in the comfort of your bedroom, nestled in the sheets as he sucks from you. He eases the needy and uncomfortable ache, nourishing himself equally in such deep intimacy.

Wrong Time, Right Place

Pt1.

The last time she’d been in the Mangione house, she was nine, and someone had dared her to jump off the diving board.

She didn’t. She stood at the edge of the pool for what felt like an hour, heart hammering in her chest, goggles too tight against her face. Kathleen was laughing from the kitchen window, Luciana was sunbathing like a goddess on a striped towel, and Maria Santa had already done a backflip and was begging someone to “hurry up and go.”

She remembered Luigi too. Not as a boy she really knew—but as the kid who fixed things. Always barefoot, always squinting at something broken. He was quiet back then. Soft-spoken. Always carrying some piece of a gadget around with him. At some point that summer, he helped her dig a caterpillar out of a net and didn’t make fun of her when she cried. That was all she remembered. That, and the way the Mangione house smelled like lemon and rosemary, even when it rained.

Now she was 19, and back on that same porch. Only this time, she wasn’t here to swim or laugh or prove anything. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She wasn’t even sure who she was lately. The door opened before she could knock. Her mom was already inside, calling out greetings like she’d never left. It was early summer, just past five, and Baltimore’s air had that heavy warmth to it, like the heat was sinking into the wood and staying there. She stood on the welcome mat with her duffel bag and her tote sliding off her shoulder, hair pulled into a lazy braid, lips dry, skin tight from the drive.

“Come on,” her mom called gently, waving her in. “Don’t just stand there.”

She stepped inside, and it hit her like it always did. The smell. Garlic and oil. Faint citrus. Something sweet baking in the oven. And the music, some old Italian record humming low from the dining room stereo, like the whole house had a pulse. For a second, her body didn’t know how to relax. It had been on edge for weeks. Finals. Projects. A roommate breakup that wasn’t even romantic but still felt like one. And the boy.

God. The boy. The one who kissed her like she was a secret and left her like one too.She hadn’t cried about him. Not really. But she hadn’t slept much since, either.bAnd now here she was. In a house she barely remembered but always missed. Kathleen appeared first, wiping her hands on a towel, smiling like she meant it. “You’re taller.”

“I’m literally the same height,” she said, setting her bag down. But her face cracked into a grin anyway.Kathleen pulled her in. It wasn’t one of those fake hugs. It was real, warm, tight, like she hadn’t just seen her grow up through Instagram. “I’m so happy you’re here,” she said into her hair. “You’re staying as long as you need. Okay? No pressure to be anything.”

That almost made her cry. She blinked it back. The kitchen was chaos in the best way. Luciana was barefoot on the counter, swiping wine from a bottle and yelling about how someone stole her favorite candle. Maria Santa was chopping tomatoes with a toddler balanced on her hip, pretending she wasn’t doing three things at once. Her mom was already laughing with Louis, Luigi’s dad, who was by the stove stirring a pot of red sauce and shaking his head fondly at the noise around him.

“This house,” her mom muttered, squeezing her shoulder, “I swear, it hasn’t changed since we were your age.”

And for the first time in weeks, she smiled and meant it.

~~~~~~~~~~~

They gave her Luciana’s old room. The one with the yellow walls and the creaky fan. It smelled like rose water and faded perfume. There was a bookshelf by the bed with random paperbacks and one photo of the three siblings taped to the wall—Luigi, Maria Santa, and Luciana, probably in high school, grinning at something off-camera. She unpacked slowly, half-listening to the sound of voices downstairs. Her mom had wandered off to help with something in the backyard. The Mangione sisters were still in the kitchen bickering like it was a sport. It was nice. No one was asking her to perform. No one was demanding to know how she was doing or expecting her to talk about school. She was just here. And that was enough for now. When she came back down, it was golden hour. Light spilling through the windows, Luciana now dancing in the dining room with a half-drunk glass of wine, Maria Santa setting the table, Kathleen humming along to the music with a dish towel slung over her shoulder.

“There she is,” Luciana called out. “We were about to send a search party.”

“She was unpacking,” Maria Santa said, smiling at her softly. “Let her breathe.”

“She can breathe while chopping basil,” Luciana joked, already pulling her by the wrist into the kitchen.

They handed her a cutting board and made room for her at the island. It was loud. Lively. Plates clattered, someone opened a bottle too fast and sprayed the counter, and Kathleen shooed everyone away from the oven like she had secrets to protect.

“You look so much like your mom,” Maria Santa said, dicing garlic. “But your mouth is all your dad’s. Sharp.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Luciana gasped. “She talks back! I love her.”

“She’s not quiet anymore,” Kathleen said proudly, pouring olive oil into a skillet. “She’s got fire now.”

She blushed a little. But it felt good. It felt like being seen.She wasn’t used to people celebrating the parts of her she didn’t have to hide. The back door creaked open, letting in the faint sound of cicadas and the warm breath of early evening air. The kitchen was already buzzing,Maria Santa stirring something on the stove, Luciana holding court with a glass of wine, and Kathleen rummaging through the fridge with her whole body like she was wrestling it.

She didn’t notice him right away. Not until Kathleen called out, casually, “Lu, tell your father to stop poking the sausages. They need to sear, not suffer.” And then he laughed. That sound, low, easy, familiar in a way she didn’t expect made her look up. He was standing in the doorway like he belonged to it. White linen shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled once, skin warm and tanned from the sun. His hair was short, dark, cleanly styled, like he’d combed it once that morning and hadn’t touched it since. His jaw was a little sharper than she remembered. His smile, somehow softer. He looked like he smelled like sea salt and warm cotton. Like he’d been outside all day fixing something just because someone asked. Like the kind of man who wasn’t trying to be the center of attention, but always ended up there anyway. His eyes moved across the room,briefly, casually until they found hers And stopped. It was quiet, just between them. The kind of moment that doesn’t interrupt anything but still makes the air feel different. His brow twitched like he was trying to place her, then smoothed when it clicked.

“You grew up,” he said, not surprised. Just quietly impressed.

“So did you,” she replied, heartbeat climbing way too fast.

He smiled, tilted his head. “You’re not still afraid of the deep end, are you?”

She huffed out a breath. “Only when I’m tired.”

Kathleen’s voice cut through before he could respond. “Luigi, baby, grab the wine from the table and make yourself useful.”

He stepped past her, giving her a nod so subtle it barely counted, and moved toward the counter like he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of her. But before he reached the sink, he glanced back. Not to say anything. Just to look. And she wasn’t sure what kind of look it was—curious, familiar, maybe something else—but it landed in her chest and stayed there, warm and buzzing beneath her skin.

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

The sun was just beginning to slip behind the trees when Kathleen announced dinner like it was a holiday. “Everyone out back! Shoes optional, opinions not.”

She followed the flow of bodies onto the patio, arms brushing shoulders, plates clinking, Luciana already halfway through a dramatic retelling of a Tinder date that ended in an emergency room. The long wooden table was set with mismatched chairs and wine glasses that didn’t match either. Candles flickered low, napkins were folded but already sliding out of place, and everything smelled like roasted tomatoes, lemon zest, and summer. She didn’t know where to sit. Her mom had found a seat next to Louis, deep in conversation about property taxes, and Maria Santa was balancing her toddler in one arm while waving a fork in the other. She hesitated at the edge of it all, unsure where she fit—until she felt someone step beside her.

“Here,” Luigi said, quietly, nodding to the last empty chair.

Next to him.

She glanced at it, then at him. He was already sliding into his seat, one arm resting lazily along the back of the chair beside his. Like it had always been meant for her.

She sat. Close enough that their knees almost touched under the table.

The food came in waves. Bread, salad, pasta. Kathleen moved like a magician between courses, and Luciana was already tipsy enough to declare herself “a saint for helping with the dishes later.”

Conversations layered around her like music—half-heard stories, laughter that built without warning, forks scraping against plates. It was loud and warm and beautiful in the kind of way you forget you need. And then Luigi leaned in. Not dramatically. Just enough that his shoulder brushed hers.

“So,” he said, eyes still on his plate, voice low enough that no one else could hear, “are you actually here for the summer, or did someone bribe you?”

She took a sip of her wine before answering. “Little of both.”

He smiled, slow. “I figured. You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“Like your brain’s still somewhere else.”

She turned to him. “And you don’t?”

His grin widened, but he didn’t argue. A pause settled between them. Not awkward just full. Like neither of them was in a rush to ruin it.

“I forgot how loud your family is,” she said finally, glancing at Luciana now singing backup vocals to the music playing through a tiny Bluetooth speaker. Luigi laughed into his glass. “That’s their quiet setting. You should hear them at Christmas.”

“I’m scared.”

“You should be.”

She found herself smiling without thinking. It was easy, being near him. He didn’t talk too much. Didn’t force it. But every now and then, he said something that made her feel like he really saw her. Not the version she was pretending to be. Just her. Kathleen came by and topped off their glasses. Luciana shouted across the table to say she looked “suspiciously good in this lighting,” and someone dropped a spoon that clattered like thunder. But all she could feel was the weight of his gaze when she looked down. Their arms touched again when they both reached for the bread. Neither of them moved away.

By the time dessert was cleared, the sky had turned completely dark. The candles on the patio burned low, flickering against empty wine glasses and half-finished plates, catching in the gold of Luciana’s earrings as she waved a fork dramatically and told a story she’d clearly told before. Her mom was yawning into her sleeve. Maria Santa had her youngest slumped against her shoulder, fast asleep, curls tangled and cheeks sticky with tiramisu. Louis stood to help her carry him in, and one by one, the others began drifting back into the house—laughing, brushing crumbs from laps, stretching their arms above their heads like the night itself had worn them out. She stood too, unsure where to go. Luciana kissed her on the cheek without warning and whispered, “You’re handling us beautifully.”

She smiled, a little dazed. “I used to think this family was loud.”

“Oh, honey,” Luciana said, looping her arm around her waist for a quick squeeze, “we’re just getting started.”

Inside, the kitchen was quieter now. Dimmer, too only the warm under-cabinet lighting left on, making the marble counters glow softly. There was a stack of dishes in the sink, a tray of burnt lemon rinds, and a towel half-crumpled near the sink like someone had given up mid-clean. She lingered there a moment, just taking it in. It was rare to see a kitchen like this when it wasn’t full of voices. When the energy had settled and you could finally hear your own breathing.

Then she heard footsteps behind her.

“Leave them,” Luigi said, his voice lower now, softer without the buzz of dinner around them. “You’re a guest.”

She turned. He was rolling up his sleeves further, collar still open, curls a little tousled from the humidity outside. He looked… relaxed. Like the night had worn him in all the right ways.

“So are you,” she said.

He reached past her for a dish and grinned. “I live here half the year. That makes me an unpaid employee.”

She hesitated, then grabbed the towel and bumped her hip lightly against his. “Fine. Then I’m your assistant.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “You gonna dry?”

“If you wash.”

“Deal.”

And just like that, they found a rhythm. He washed slowly, carefully, like someone who knew how to do it right—rinsing twice, stacking neatly. She dried, hands brushing his a few times too many. Neither of them mentioned it. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… charged. Familiar in a way she hadn’t expected. Every now and then, he’d say something—point out that Luciana had hidden an untouched shrimp under her napkin or that Louis always left the forks for last. Small things. Observations. He noticed things. She liked that.

“You used to be scared of this kitchen,” he said suddenly, glancing at her with a little smirk.

“Only because Luciana threatened to throw me in the oven once.”

He laughed, deep in his chest. “She’s gotten nicer.”

“She gave me wine and called me hot. I’m terrified.”

He handed her a plate and looked at her a little longer than necessary. “She’s not wrong.”

She paused. The towel stilled in her hands. He didn’t look away. His expression didn’t change. And she wasn’t sure what to say—if she should joke, deflect, or pretend like her pulse didn’t just skip—but before she could decide, he turned back to the sink.

The moment passed. Quietly.

But it stayed there between them.

Humming.

By the time the last dish was done, her hands smelled like lemon and soap, and she was a little dizzy,but not from the wine. He wiped the counter with the back of his wrist and leaned against it, arms folded.

“You’re different,” he said softly.

She glanced at him. “So are you.”

A pause.

Then, like he couldn’t help it: “In a good way.”

Something in her chest tightened. The kind of ache that wasn’t sad. Just full. Before she could respond, Kathleen’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Luigi, don’t leave her alone in there. Give her the tour or something.”

He didn’t move. Just looked at her.

“You want the tour?” he asked.

“Only if it includes snacks.”

He smiled.

And led her out of the kitchen.

He didn’t really give her a tour. He started in the hallway, pointed vaguely toward a guest bathroom, then made some joke about Luciana’s old room being cursed—which, judging by the crooked closet door and permanent smell of vanilla lotion, might not have been far off.But after that, it was quiet. They walked slowly, barefoot on cool tile, the house creaking softly around them like it was falling asleep. Voices had dimmed behind bedroom doors. Her mom had gone to bed. Even the music had stopped. It was just them. He led her toward the back of the house, the older part,where the windows were thinner, the light more golden. The walls here were lined with photos, decades of family birthdays and anniversaries and blurry Christmas mornings.They paused in front of one without speaking. It was him,probably sixteen, holding a sparkler, grinning with cake frosting on his shirt.

“I looked like I had no idea what to do with myself,” he said, voice low, eyes on the frame.

“You looked like you were trying really hard not to smile.”

“I probably was.”

She tilted her head. “You were kind of quiet back then.”

“I’m still quiet,” he said, glancing at her. “People just stopped pointing it out.”

They stood there for a second too long. Then she shifted, brushing a finger along the edge of the photo frame.

“I used to love this hallway,” she said softly. “When I was little, I’d walk back and forth during parties pretending I was going somewhere. Just to be around it. The noise. The energy.”

He looked at her. Really looked.

“And now?” he asked.

“Now I think I came here to be around it without being in it.”

Luigi nodded slowly, like he got it. Like maybe he felt that way sometimes too.Then he turned, opened the last door on the right.The back den. She remembered it as the TV room,low couch, dark wood shelves, the leftover blankets always balled up in the corner. It looked the same now. Familiar. Safe. He stepped inside, but didn’t turn on the light. Just reached for the lamp in the corner and let it cast that soft amber glow across the room. She stood in the doorway for a second. He sat on the edge of the couch, leaned forward on his knees, looking out the window into the dark. She joined him, curling one leg under the other, the cushion dipping between them. Neither of them spoke for a moment.The quiet wasn’t empty. It pulsed with unsaid things. She turned her head toward him.

“You’re easier to talk to now,” she said.

He didn’t look at her. Just smiled gently. “You never tried before.”

“Maybe I was scared.”

His eyes met hers. No teasing this time.

“You don’t seem scared now.”

“I’m not.”

He nodded once.

Then, quietly: “Good.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know what to do with the way he was looking at her. Like she wasn’t just some girl at the end of a long day. Like she was the thing he hadn’t realized he’d been waiting to find again. The silence stretched. And then he reached forward not dramatically, just instinctively and brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek.

His fingers were warm. Calloused at the tips. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just looked at him. Let it sit there. Let it be what it was. And when he dropped his hand and leaned back again, she felt the absence like a string gently tugging at her chest.

They didn’t kiss.

Not yet.

But something settled between them anyway.Something neither of them had words for.

*+*+*+*+**+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+**+*+*+*+*+*+*+**+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

This is just the first part I’m hoping you guys like it, still feel like I can do a lot better lol if you guys have any feedback I’d be glad to hear it (: someone please lmk if this feels rushed (:

@luigisbambinaaa @luigis-wetdream @multi-culti-girl @mangionesdaisy @snoopy184 @mashkatzi

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luigisbambinaaa

1 month ago

😩😩😩😩😩

You Know What That Does to

You started it. You knew you did. You could always tell when you were pushing the line. When his eyes would flick up slowly, like he was clocking the shift in your voice, like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or grab you by the throat and pin you to the nearest surface.Tonight, it was the name.

You were sitting cross-legged on his couch, eating something lazy he cooked, the TV low in the background. He was still in his work clothes—dark slacks, sleeves rolled up, top button undone, hair pushed back messily like he’d run his hands through it too many times.You didn’t even say it to provoke him, not at first. But you’d been a little bratty all day—teasing, deflecting, poking at him when he got too close. And now, when he reached across you to grab the remote, you leaned back, tilted your head, and said it:

“Luigiiii.”

Soft. Sweet. With that smug little lilt that said I know what I’m doing.

He paused. Just for a second.

Didn’t answer.

Just sat back, resting the remote on his thigh, and slowly turned his head to look at you. You didn’t flinch. But your heart thudded. He smiled,barely. Just one corner of his mouth tugging up. But it wasn’t a warm smile. It was the kind that made your thighs press together under the blanket.

“You think you’re cute, huh?” he said.

You licked some sauce off your thumb. “I know I’m cute.”

His eyes dropped to your mouth. Stayed there.

You smirked and added, just to push him over the edge, “What? Don’t like your name now?”

He didn’t answer. He just got up slowly. Quietly. Took your empty bowl and walked it into the kitchen. And for the next half hour, he didn’t touch you. Didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t do anything at all. And that was how you knew.

⸻

The shift happened just after ten.

The dishes were done. The lights were low. You were half-scrolling on your phone when he came back into the living room,barefoot now, the cuffs of his slacks hanging low on his hips, shirt untucked and unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled to the elbows like he had every intention of putting them to use.

“C’mere.”

His voice was soft.

You looked up. “What?”

He just tilted his head. Didn’t repeat it.

You got up slowly.

When you reached him, he turned you gently by the wrist and walked you backward,step by step, no resistance,until the backs of your knees hit the mattress.

You looked up at him. His eyes were warm.But his jaw was tight.

“You wanna use that voice on me, huh?” he asked. Still soft. Almost sweet. “That little ‘Luigiiii’ voice? Like you don’t know what it does to me?”

You opened your mouth to answer—

He pushed you down. Not hard. Just enough. You landed on your back, arms falling to your sides, eyes wide as he crawled over you,knees sinking into the mattress, palms planted on either side of your head.

“You’re gonna say it again,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours. “And again. And again.”

He kissed you slow. Just once. Like a reward before the punishment. Then his hand slipped down,down the line of your chest, past your stomach, right between your legs where you were already soaking through your panties. His fingers pressed there gently, teasing, circling.

You gasped.

He smiled.

“Now,” he whispered. “Say it again.”

You hesitated.

“Luigi.”

He arched his brow. “That’s not how you said it earlier.”

You swallowed. Licked your lips.

“Luigiiii.”

His hand slid under the fabric, fingers dragging through your soaked folds like he was testing just how wet your teasing had made you.

You moaned.

He leaned down again, lips brushing your ear.

“God, you’re dripping.” His fingers circled your clit slowly, barely-there pressure, enough to make your hips jerk but not enough to push you anywhere close to the edge. “From saying my name like a little slut?”

“Please—”

“No, no, no.” He kissed your cheek. Your jaw. His voice stayed gentle, affectionate. Mean. “You don’t get to beg yet.”

You whimpered.

Then gasped when he slid two fingers inside you, slowly. Deep.

Your back arched off the bed. He curled them.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Let me hear you. Let me hear that mouth you like to run.”

You choked on a moan, hands fisting in the sheets. He started fucking you with his fingers, lazy strokes, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. His thumb rubbed your clit just enough to light a fire, never enough to stoke it.

And then?

He mocked your voice.

Right against your ear.

“Luigiiii.”

Thrust.

“Luigiiii please.”

Curl. Grind.

“Oh, you can beg now,” he whispered. “Beg me to let you come.”

“Please, Luigi—please—”

“Yeah? You want it?” He pulled his fingers out.

You cried out.

He licked them clean. Then shoved them back in. He fucked you with them until your thighs were trembling, until you were soaked, breathless, teetering—

And then he stopped. Pulled away completely. You sobbed.

He grabbed your jaw gently. Tilted your face to his.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, lips soft against yours. “Something you need?”

You nodded desperately.

“I can’t hear you.”

“I need you.”

“Need what?”

“You—please—your cock—”

He undid his belt with one hand. Pushed his pants down just enough to free himself. Thick. Hard. Veined. Red at the tip. He pumped it once, slow, your slick still shining on his fingers. Then he lined up. Pressed the head against your entrance.

Waited.

“What do you say?”

You sobbed.

“Luigiiii.”

He slid in. All the way. Bottomed out with one brutal thrust that had your hands clawing at his back.And in your ear, breathless and mocking and so goddamn in love with ruining you, he whispered—

“That’s my girl.

He didn’t move at first.

After he bottomed out,deep, unforgiving, thick enough to punch the air from your lungs,he just stayed there. Buried inside you, hands pinning your hips down, chest pressed against yours, his breath hot and steady against your cheek.

“You feel that?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth.

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough.

He wrapped a hand around your throat,not tight, just enough to hold your attention,and pulled back enough to look into your eyes.

“Tell me who’s inside you.”

“You,” you breathed.

“Say my name.”

You hesitated.

The corner of his mouth curled.

“Say it how you said it before.”

Your stomach flipped. Your cunt clenched around him.

He groaned.

“Luigiiii,” you whispered, soft and bratty and trembling all at once. His fingers flexed around your throat. His hips snapped forward, driving deeper. You gasped.

“Oh, that’s the one,” he said, voice low and mean and so fucking fond. “That’s the little voice you used when you thought I wouldn’t do anything about it. Like you wanted me to lose it.”

“Lu—please—”

“Please what?”

“Please move.”

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to ruin you?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—”

“Say it right.”

You blinked up at him, tears lining your lashes.

He leaned closer, lips brushing yours.

“Say it like you’re still bratting.”

You swallowed.

“Luigiiii,” you whined, full of broken heat.

He snapped his hips again. Deep. Cruel.

“Atta girl.”

And then he moved.

Rhythmic. Rough. Full-bodied thrusts that had your legs shaking, your nails clawing into his back, your cunt clenching so tight around him he cursed under his breath.

“That’s right,” he hissed, fucking you harder. “Fucking teasing me with that voice, like I wouldn’t recognize the sound of my name coming out of your mouth.”

His hand on your throat tightened just a little—enough to make you dizzy.

“You know what that does to me,” he growled. “You know it gets in my head. You like pushing me. You like when I fuck you like this, don’t you?”

You moaned.

“I said don’t you?”

“Yes—yes, I love it—”

“Of course you do. You’re such a fucking brat.” His voice dropped into something darker. “But you’re mine.”

He slipped his hand between your bodies, found your clit, and started circling hard, fast, filthy.You screamed.

“I’m the only one who gets to hear you say my name like that.”

He thrust again. Again.

“You hear me?”

“Yes—Luigi, please—”

“Say it.”

“Luigiiii—”

“Fucking say it.”

“Luigiiii—fuck—Luigi, I’m cuming —”

You shattered. The orgasm hit so hard you couldn’t breathe. Your legs spasmed. Your back arched. Your pussy clenched around him like it never wanted to let go. You were sobbing now—honest, wrecked tears slipping down your cheeks as he fucked you through it.

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned. “That’s my fucking girl.”

He wasn’t far behind. His thrusts grew wild. Sloppy. He was losing control and didn’t care.

“Where do you want it?” he panted. “Tell me.”

“Inside,” you begged. “Please, fill me..want you to cum inside—”

He groaned so loud it was almost a growl. And then he slammed in one last time, burying himself so deep you felt it in your throat—and came with a full-body shudder, his hips jerking, cock pulsing as he spilled inside you.

You were both breathless.

Sweaty. Shaking.

His arms were still around you.

Still inside you.

Still holding your body like it was his favorite thing on Earth. You were quiet for a while.He brushed the hair from your forehead. Kissed the tear trail on your cheek. Let you melt into his chest while his cock stayed buried in your sore, aching cunt.

And when you whispered, soft and broken, “Luigiiii…” again—

He smiled. Pulled out slowly. Watched the mess spill down your thighs.

Then kissed your jaw and murmured:

“Careful with that voice, baby.”

“Next time, I won’t be so gentle.”

@luigis-wetdream @iinfinitelimits @luigisbambinaaa

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luigisbambinaaa

1 month ago

THE GODDAMN BEARD ARE YOU KIDDING ME SOMEONE HOLD MY HAND PLEASE

credit to prosperluigi on twitter

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luigisbambinaaa

2 months ago

okay wait imagine ur little baby girl learning to talk but not even talking yet more just babbling; who gets teary-eyed and frustrated when u don’t understand her sometimes but lu is actually weirdly good at deciphering baby babble and has full on conversations w her bc in all the books he’s read it says how important that is for their development and own language skills… would love how talkative she is like i think he would find it rlly amazing the process/journey of communicating w ur babies AH.

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luigisbambinaaa

1 month ago

The way he’s sat with his legs spread like a WHORE 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦

Creds to @/prosperluigi on twt!!

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luigisbambinaaa

2 months ago

first saw it because we know luigi hasn’t seen his own mom in a while, so it must feel really comforting to be able to find that kind of parental spirit in his counsel :-(

True !!! I find it kinda funny and kinda cute that all of the Agnifilos that work in law are on this case 😭 really gives off family vibe and they use it to their their advantage too. They also went for the family optics that the arraignment with the Karen and Luigi's matching sweater and Marc's matching tie. random fun fact (?) : Jacob also has a decades long working relationship with Marc, they have worked on so many cases before and he finally jumped the ship and joined the Agnifilo firm as a partner to work on this case.

the WHOLE agnifilo team came out for this one LMAO if i’m not mistaken i think even karen’s daughter is serving as a paralegal? or something to that effect? i remember seeing that somewhere ALSO i never noticed marc’s tie!!! 😣 that’s so sweet

i didn’t know any of that about jacob + marc’s working relationship but the fact that this case has like united all of them is just soooo 😓😖🥺 idk it makes me so emotional

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luigisbambinaaa

1 month ago

fresh out the slammer

luigi mangione x reader

luigi had been gone for three years up until now. you stayed for as long as you could possibly bare, but luigi had dwelled on his destined fate the second he was arrested. he knew it was over, even as he presumed his innocence for the entirety of the trial. he let you go for you, not for himself. he thought of you every single day up until his abrupt freedom landed unexpectedly in his lap. fresh out the slammer, he knew who his first call would be to.

inspired by fresh out the slammer by the one and only, taylor swift.

warnings: SMUT OFC !

notes: hi guys this is my first time posting my fics on here, i usually post on my wattpad @/rejexts. i hope yall enjoy if anyone reads this. also. i am picturing the first male character as nicholas alexander chaves so… do with that info what you will :)

∞ ☼｡𖦹 ° . ⋆♡

"hey, are you good?"

you snap out of the trance you had been in as your co-worker, blake, spoke in your direction. you looked down at your right hand, realizing you had a death grip on the pen you were holding.

"yeah, all good." you muster a fake smile as you gage your attention back towards the paper you were mindlessly writing on.

a year ago, you were spending this time writing letters to luigi in the same exact spot. now, your writings only had to do with work. life moves on, just as luigi had.

"so, i was thinking," blake changed the topic, walking up to you. "if you're free tonight, would you wanna come over again?" his mouth curled into a grin.

it was cute, and he was cute. but it was merely a distraction from the ache you felt deep in your chest everyday. a few months ago, he had taken you on a date. you continued to casually hang out- which lead to casually hooking up. you thought that maybe, just maybe, you could move on with your life.

no matter how many times blake tried to woo you over, it all felt superficial, like you were living this lie. you desperately tried leaning into it, but it was becoming exhausting.

"let me think about it, i'm so tired and i-"

"shhh, ah ah ah," the light haired boy interrupted. "i know you've been going through it. let me take care of you tonight, yeah?"

you looked up at the boy sheepishly, giving him a genuine smile this time. he really was trying, and you knew he cared for you.

it wasn't luigi, though.

"okay, okay," you throw your hands up in defense. "i'll come."

"yeah you will." the boy winked at you before trotting back to his desk. you playfully rolled your eyes as you continued on your work. going to see blake had to be better than moping around at home, right?

as the end of the work day neared, you packed up your belongings and began your journey home; back to the small house you and luigi had started renting together. although now, you only arrive home to your two cats.

unlocking the door, you felt your phone buzz with a call. assuming it was blake, you pulled it out and answered with no hesitation.

"y/n?" a deep, familiar italian voice ventured from the other end.

your blood ran cold, and a deep churning feeling hit the pit of your stomach like an explosion. you clutched the phone so hard in your hand that it became ghostly pale and your left eye twitched.

"it's luigi." the voice stated, accompanied by a deep, shaky breath. he seemed just as anxious as you were.

before you could even respond, it was like somebody else was puppeteering you like a doll. your death-like grip on the phone turned soft as you swiftly removed it from your ear, and pressed the red button to end the call.

no.

that couldn't have been real, right?

sighing deeply, you unlock your phone and scroll a through your recent call history.

lui <3

phone call (incoming)

15 seconds ago

he had called you, on his phone. his real cell phone number that you had saved in your phone, not one of the thousand different phone numbers from prison.

it had to be some sick joke. you hadn't received any form of communication from luigi for almost an entire year. his trial had been ongoing it's third year, and he had written to you for the last time as his freedom steered further and further away.

you continued to write to him, even though he told you that you needed to let him go. as much as he loved you, he didn't want you to spend the rest of your life waiting on sugar-coated hope. day after day, week after week, your letters began returning back home to you, unopened by luigi.

you were angry. abandoned by the man who at the beginning of this mess, told you that he promised it'd always be you two. and you promised to never leave his side, no matter the outcome.

until he left you.

tears prick the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. you were beyond confused as to why somebody would call you from luigi's phone. in your mind, that's what had happened. luigi was never going to see freedom, therefore making his call impossible; unless it was someone else.

or maybe you were just going crazy.

you coarse your fingers through your hair as you suck in a deep breath. the only logical idea in your mind was to pretend like nothing happened, and to get to blake's as soon as possible. even though you didn't exactly feel a spark with the boy, he was still a good friend to lean on.

you made your way upstairs, changing into comfier clothes and doing everything in your power to distract yourself.

"i just gotta get out of this house." you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed your keys and headed towards your front door.

you swiftly unlocked it, swing it open, and run directly into a hard, tall figure.

you wobble backwards before two pairs of strong, large hands firmly grip your shoulders to steady yourself. blinking upwards towards the man, it doesn't take long for you to realize who this is.

"you heading somewhere?" a sly smirk questioned down at you cockily.

"this isn't real," you mumble before pushing past him, and the contact of your hands with his chest sends chills through your entire body. "you're not here."

"why did you hang up on me?" luigi's voice is deep and hoarse, ignoring your delusions. before you can take one step further, luigi wraps his hand around your wrist and lightly yanks you backwards towards him. you're now facing him, inches away from his chest as you stare up at him in awe. "where are you going?" he questioned, oblivious to the fact that this was the first time you two had seen each other in years.

he looked different from the luigi you knew. luigi was always muscular, but he had gained a noticeable amount of muscle weight as his arms filled out his long-sleeved blue t-shirt. his hair was thick and longer than usual, his black curls far more prominent than you've ever seen them. he looked good, but exhausted, as thick brown bags lined his under eyes.

"how are you even here right no-"

"shhh," luigi hushed, pressing his pointer finger to your lips. his hand was cold, yet it sent electricity through you. "i missed you so much." he soothed, removing his finger from your lips and wrapping both of his arms around you and pulling you deep into his chest.

without hesitation, you embrace the man back. snaking your arms around him and breathing him in, he smells exactly like how he did before he went away, which forces tears to pry at the corners of your eyes. he squeezes you tighter, as if quietly telling you this was real.

"you left me," you mumble into luigi's chest, looking up at him. you were still held in his arms as he cocked his head down to face you. "you made me go insane." you choke.

"i know pretty girl, and for the rest of our lives i'm going to tell you how sorry i am," he hums, his lips turning into a genuine frown. "but for right now, let me take care of you."

luigi wraps both of his arms under your legs and swiftly picks you up bridal style, catching you off guard. the tears that threatened to fall earlier had disappeared, and now you were giggling at the boy. he grins down at you before making his way upstairs, holding you close in his arms.

"what are you-"

before you can finish your sentence, luigi sets you down in the hallway right outside your door. the door to the room you once shared together, and now he was here, he was back.

"there's not any guy in there, yeah?" luigi questions sternly, furrowing his eyebrows towards the door.

"no," you laugh, giddiness coursing through your veins. "it's just been me here." you had so much to say, so much to ask, but right now, this felt enough. this felt like a fairytale.

"good," he grumbles, opening your door and intertwining his hand within yours. "or else i'd have to kill 'em.”

before you can respond, luigi has you pressed up against the hallway wall. you look up at him with doe eyes, and he looks down at you like you're his prey. he takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he embraces your cheek, running his thumb back and forth across it.

"can i?" luigi questions eagerly, licking his bottom lip as his eyes flicker to yours.

you don't even tell him yes; all you do is pull his mouth onto yours. his lips are initially cool to the touch, but as you pick up the pace they gradually warm. his lips move perfectly in-synch with yours as he lightly wraps his hand around your neck. squeezing gently, you can tell this really gets him going, as he then takes his tongue and runs it against your bottom lip, slipping it inside your mouth.

"i missed the way you taste," luigi murmurs against your lips, reconnecting his to yours immediately. "i missed you." he says breathlessly. he uses his free hand to slowly rub circles around your heat, lips still moving with yours at the same time. you had leggings on, yet he still knew exactly where to rub to get you going.

"fuck- lui," you gasp against his skin, leading him to pick up his speed. His large, veiny fingers moved at such a fast pace against you, your legs began to feel like jelly as the pleasure seared throughout the lower portion of your body.

"you have no idea," luigi paused to gently suck on the nape of your neck, swirling his tongue around on the sweetest spot. "no idea how much i thought of you..." his voice trailed as his tongue ventured lower and lower down your neck. the gentle, sweet sucking slowly began to turn into rough, delicate pinches. he was using his sharp canines to mark you, mark what belongs to him. "how much i dreamt about you..." he groaned against the bright red marks that now dotted your skin, soon to become purple. a reminder that he was real. your body shudders in response, a small gasp escaping your lips when luigi removes his two fingers from your heat, and begins to play with the waistline of your leggings.

"p-please," you beg, biting your bottom lip. every time his fingers touches your stomach, a flame lights within your stomach, making it churn in the best way possible. "do whatever you want, just please." you whine at the man, and his lips curl into a smirk above you.

"was already planning on it, sweetheart. you are mine," he growls, his voice dark with power. luigi had never acted this way with you, especially when the two of you were intimate. "come on." luigi stops playing with your waistband and instead, grabs a fist-full of the material and opens your bedroom door, pulling you in behind him.

luigi is quick to place his right hand on your stomach, lowering you down onto the bed. he hovers over you with ease, his arms now much bigger than they once used to be. this is the first time you're really able to look at him; he is freshly shaven, yet he still manages to look much more grown than before. his eyes which were once filled with light, are much darker now, starving for power, for you.

luigi hungrily meets your lips with his again, moving against you with so much passion, so much force. he opens up your legs and inserts himself between them, slowly grinding against you as his lips continue to pleasure your own. he wraps a single hand around your throat, and the more he continues to grind, the more you can feel how hard he is underneath his jeans. instinctively, you lower your hand down to his member, and begin massaging his bulge with the palm of your hand.

"uh-uh," luigi retorts, batting your hand away. "gonna make me cum, pretty girl... it's been so long." he finally takes his lips off of yours. "i want to work on you baby, make you feel everything you missed." he grins down at you, his eyes still dark with something you can't put a finger on. his words send a pack of butterflies down your throat to your stomach, making you gulp down the million emotions you were currently feeling.

"i want to see you, all of you," luigi commands, quickly pawing at the hem of your shirt. you nod at him, and he swiftly lifts it over your head, tossing it to the floor. he slips your sports bra up over your head with your help, then resumes his work on you. he sucks at your neck, your collarbone, until he gets to your breasts. "fuck.." he trails against your skin as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. he swirls his tongue around, causing ripples of pleasure to beam within you. using a free hand to gently pinch your other nipple and rub it between his pointer finger and thumb, he sucks down on the nipple he was already working on.

"god that- mmm..." you moan, gripping your bedsheets. "so good, lu."

"ohh yeah?" he draws out, sucking on your skin until he gets to your leggings. "let's get these off."

pulling your leggings down, luigi almost gasps at the sight of a naked you. he takes his long, middle finger and places it on your clit, rubbing small, agonizing circles. with each movement, it sends a jolt of clarity throughout your entire body, yearning for more.

out of nowhere, he slowly inserts his middle and pointer finger inside of you, his mouth gaped in surprise of how wet you were for him.

"i wanted to fuck you with my hands before i get to put my dick inside you... but fuck, i need to taste you, feel you squirm under my tongue, pretty baby." he huffs seconds before immediately placing his tongue on your clit, sucking intensely. you throb underneath him, the pleasure of his wet tongue almost becoming too much. he's in-between your legs while your back is propped up on a pillow, so you watch him passionately have his way with you. your hands grip his soft, curly locks so you have something to hold onto as you can feel yourself reaching the brink of an orgasm. your squirm so hard beneath him that he wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you down in place. his tongue continues to flick your clit, every so often dipping inside of your heat before he inserts his two fingers back inside of you. the pleasure is so good, it's too much, sending fireworks throughout. you want to scream, hot tears pricking the corners of your eyes as luigi continues to overstimulate you.

"mmm," he moaned against your region. "taste so fucking good, y/n."

his hands are much bigger than yours, so when he curls his fingers inside of you, he can hit spots you thought were unimaginable. you let out a long, drawn-out moan to advise him you were about to finish, which causes him to halt. it felt like he had just taken away everything from you, the pure pleasure, the itch he scratched, the warmness against your slit.

"baaaby," you whine, the absence of him felt cold.

"shhh," he cooed, sitting himself upright and unbuttoning his jeans. "i got you." he spoke. you joined him, helping him hastily toss his shirt off. the sight of this new, shirtless luigi left your jaw slacked open. he was always muscular, but abs now dotted his mid-section and his pecs were huge. he must've really worked on himself when he was away.

"i missed your pretty pussy." luigi spoke breathlessly, tossing his underwear to the ground, his hardened dick sprung out, pre-cum glistening at his tip.

you look at him with innocent eyes, before rolling onto your stomach for him. you lie like that for half a second before luigi's huge hands wrap around you and aggressively toss you back onto your back, lying and looking up at him.

"no," he stops to align his dick with your slit, slick with a mixture of your own juices and luigi's spit. "i wanna fuck you like this, i want you to look me in the eyes while you take me." he growls before slowly inserting his tip, teasing you and himself. him being so blessed, it only takes his tip to begin stretching you out, searing pleasure rippling within.

"please," was all you could manage, trying to slip him inside of you with your hips. "i need you lu, i need you." you begged.

"i love hearing you beg," he snickers down at you sinfully, pulling ever so slightly away from you. "gonna regret that later, love. gonna make me fuck you harder than i ever have."

within seconds, luigi plows his full-length inside of you, catching you off guard. pain surges through you, before becoming replaced with pure bliss.

"fuck!" you scream out, gritting your teeth as you look up at luigi in awe. he is so concentrated on you, on loving you, fucking you, making you feel so good. he fucked you like nothing else in the world mattered to him right now. "luuuu." you purr, drawing out his nickname.

"god, you feel so fucking good." he seethes, taking a moment to really feel you. to feel how deep he has his cock buried inside of you, stretching you, hitting every sweet spot you longed for. he slowly takes his length out of you, then pushes himself back in, moaning until he's all the way in again. he begins slow, bucking his hips so he slides all the way in, and all the way out. the pleasure slowly builds within you with every slow pump luigi takes. "so... tight... for me." luigi buries his face within your neck, slowly starting to pick up the speed while continuing to mumble profanities.

"oh... my god," you whimper, his thrusts have picked up speed, but now he slams into you with much more force. a string of moans and curse words fly from your mouth as you grip his neck with your hands, nails digging into his perfect skin. the pleasure was almost far too much, and he was hitting every spot perfectly over and over and over. "baby i- i'm gonna-"

"not yet," he commands, now really picking up how fast his dick pumps into your wetness. he pulls his head up from the crook of your neck. "not yet baby, hold it for me. be a good girl and wait for me, yeah?" he's breathless, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. he takes his hand, squeezing your neck so tight you start to see little black stars. he's using his grip on your neck to plunge into you as rough as he can.

it's far too much. luigi is fucking you so hard, so deep, you can feel yourself coming completely undone beneath him. that heavy, fluttery feeling is pitted deep within your stomach, and it's about to wash over you.

"come on baby, i'm almost there," luigi pants. "wait for me." he demands, his tone hoarse. you're so wet that you can feel yourself dripping, and your breathing becomes erratic. he's fucking you relentlessly, until you're absolutely dumb, raw to the touch.

"i- i can't lu, i'm gonna-"

"ohh fuck," luigi's voice is low and raspy as he releases his load into you, filling you up with everything he has to offer. you squirm and wriggle beneath him, reaching that pure bliss climax you had been holding out for. "fuuuuck." he pumps into you one last time before pulling out, his cum spilling out of you as he does so.

you're breathing deep, hyperventilating almost, as your legs begin to shake beneath him. luigi's face goes soft as he's quick to his feet, racing to grab a towel. he ignores himself first, wiping down every wet part of you while you lie there and look up at him. he makes sure every part of you is clean before he wipes himself down, and crawls back into your bed.

"hey, i got you." luigi hummed , pulling you into his arms tightly. he gave you a tight squeeze as your legs still shook and your breathing was rapid. "you did so good f'me baby, i'm so proud of you."

you fought back tears, wrapping yourself around the man as you let him hold you. you were so overwhelmed by the stimulation, and the fact that this was real.

"it's okay baby, you're okay," he continued, stroking your hair. you turned your head to look up at him, hot tears streaming down your face. "i'm here, i'm not leaving again. i love you."

"h-how?" your voice was frail from luigi's necklace earlier. "how are you here?" your voice squeaked.

"well," luigi adjusts himself so he's propped up and can see your face, but he still has you wrapped in his arm. "i'm a little hurt you didn't see."

"i blocked your name from everything." you admitted. it was true. after receiving your letters to him, unopened, you made sure you would never see anything about him again. it sure was hard, with how big his case was, but it brought you somewhat peace for the time being.

"and i don't blame you. i didn't think i was ever going to see you again." luigi plants a kiss on your forehead, wiping the tears from your face. "the prosecution happened not too long ago, and they found me not guilty."

"what?" you were shocked. "you're not going back?"

"i'm not going back," he laughs. "i got out today. this was the first place i came."

"but-" your brain felt fuzzy and confused. "but how did-"

"i'll answer everything baby. i promise. right now, let me hold you, make you feel better. we've been through so much." he hushes, running his finger across your lips.

"i love you more, by the way." you grin at him.

"never in a million years."

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