I Hope Today Is Good To Lulu, I Really Hope He’s Doing Well

holy hands, unholy acts

notes: wanted to bless you all with this priest luigi oneshot before i go to bed ;) also this is for @luigisbambinaaa since they gave me the idea for it in the first place and also to my other fellow priest luigi fan @fligniuz

warnings: smut, handjob (m) receiving

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

the chapel hums with stillness, the air heavy with the musk of forbidden want as you guide father luigi to a shadowed pew at the rear. his cassock is already bunched up, his thick cock straining against his briefs, twitching as you push him down onto the creaking wood.

his eyes dart to the saints illuminated by the stained glass, then focus on you, pupils wide with shame and craving. your hand slips beneath the cloth, fingers wrapping around his throbbing length, warm and slick with precum, and he stifles a ragged moan, gripping the bible you throw into his shaking hands.

“read to me, father.” you purr, voice oozing with command, your strokes slow and teasing as you glide along his shaft, thumb brushing the swollen, leaking tip. “psalm 51, right now.”

he swallows hard, his adam’s apple jerking, and begins, voice unsteady, “have mercy on me, o god, according to your unfailing love…” his words falter as you squeeze tighter, sliding down his length with deliberate care, drawing a choked whine from his throat. his head tips back, and you pause abruptly, fingers lingering just above his dripping head, leaving him gasping.

“keep going, father. or i’ll stop.” you say, voice low and commanding, watching his cock twitch in the faint light.

he nods, frantic, sweat glistening on his forehead, and presses on, “wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin…” his voice quivers as you resume, stroking with a slow, sinful rhythm, the wet, lewd sound mingling with his broken verses.

he stumbles through, “create in me a pure heart, o god…” hips twitching as you twist your hand, pumping faster, his precum slicking your fingers. he gasps, words failing, and you freeze again, pulling away, leaving him whining, “n-no, please sister!”

“finish it father, be good.” you demand, eyes sharp with dominance, and he scrambles to obey, voice cracking over.

“and my tongue will sing of your righteousness.”

you smirk, rewarding him with a relentless pace, hand racing over his engorged cock until his hips jolt, a raw, desperate cry bursting from him as he cums hot, thick spurts coating your hand, dripping down his shaft. he slumps back, bible hitting the floor, a shattered ruin of guilt and submission in the holy shadows.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

this is not the full fic omg i just had to get this out of my system coz im half asleep and priest luigi WILL NOT LEAVE MY MIND.

previous work

“377 people were murdered in New York City in 2024; only one, however—the December 4, 2024, shooting of United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson—has led to a legal tug-of-war between state and federal prosecutors as they fight for who controls the fate of 26-year-old Luigi Mangione.”

The introductory statement provided in the overview of the recent affirmation in support of the motion filed by Karen Friedman Agnifilo, legal counsel for Luigi Mangione, seeking to suppress evidence related to the New York state case charges.

happy early birthday to luigi and i 😋

Birthday Boy

TW: breeding kink, dominant reader, oral (m receiving), worship kink, soft filth,overstimulation, mirror sex, riding,praise kink, deep obsession, slow burn filth

⸻

He didn’t even make it to the bed.

You had him sitting on the edge of the couch in just his dress shirt, barely unbuttoned, chest flushed, eyes already heavy like he’d been begging for hours.

“You’re not allowed to touch,” you told him, straddling his lap with a slow smirk, your nails dragging up his throat as he swallowed hard. “It’s your birthday. You let me take care of you.”

He nodded, jaw clenched, hands fisting the couch cushions instead of your thighs.

Good boy.

You kissed down his chest slow, each button undone with your mouth, not your hands, until he was exposed and twitching beneath you. And then you dropped to your knees. Luigi’s head dropped back the moment your mouth wrapped around him, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he whispered, “Fuck—” like he hadn’t been touched in weeks. You took him deep, let him hit the back of your throat just to feel him buck under the pressure, your hands holding him still. You didn’t stop. You wanted him shaking.

“Not yet,” you whispered when he started to come undone, your spit coating him, lips swollen, eyes wet.

“You don’t get to come until I’m on top of you.”

He was already wrecked when you climbed on, guiding him in with a slow grind of your hips. His hands immediately flew to your waist, and you slapped them away.

“What did I say?”

He bit his lip hard, whimpering now, hips twitching up into you. You rode him slow at first, just enough to tease, then faster when he started moaning like he was gonna lose his mind. One hand dragged through his curls, the other gripping his jaw.

“You gonna cum for me, birthday boy? Gonna fill me up like a good fuckin’ gift?”

He nodded, eyes glassy. “Yes... fuck...please, let me—”

You leaned in, kissed him slow, and whispered, “Then give it to me. All of it.”

And he did with a cry, a curse, and his head thrown back like he’d just been blessed by God himself.

You didn’t stop moving.

You never stopped.

You barely made it to the bedroom before you decided he hadn’t seen enough. His body was already flushed and trembling, chest rising and falling like he was still trying to catch the breath you stole from him on the couch. His curls were messy, his shirt still clinging to his shoulders, soaked with sweat from the first round. And his cock?

Still hard. Still leaking.

Still yours.

“Sit.”

Your voice was soft, but the command in it was sharp. You nodded toward the mirror on the closet door.

“Back against the wall. Legs spread. Hands behind you.”

Luigi didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He followed like he’d been waiting for this exact moment all year. You stepped toward him, completely bare now, slick still coating your inner thighs, chest rising slowly and confidently. His eyes dropped between your legs, tongue wetting his lips like he was praying for a taste. But you weren’t giving him that yet. You straddled him again, knees planted on either side of his thighs, the cool wood floor grounding you both. You reached down, ran your fingers along the length of his cock twitching, desperate, soaked with the mess he’d made of himself and dragged it through your folds. He let out the quietest, broken little moan.

You smirked.

“Eyes up, birthday boy.”

You tilted his chin up, forcing him to look forward into the mirror.

“I want you to watch how pretty you look while I fuck you again.”

And then you sank down onto him. Slow.Devastating. You took every inch until your hips met, and he gasped — head falling back against the wall, hands twitching behind him.

“Fuck—” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Baby, I can’t… I just came—”

“Shhh.”

You started to move.

Up.

Down.

Up again.

Every bounce made the sound between you louder wetter, filthier — like you were trying to fuck the breath from his lungs. And it was working.

“Look at your face,” you whispered into his ear, breath hot. “Look how desperate you get when you’re inside me. That pretty mouth open, your eyes begging. You like being used, don’t you?”

He whimpered actually whimpered, nodding like he couldn’t remember a single word of English. You grabbed his face with one hand, your other hand clawing into his chest for leverage as you rode him harder. His thighs trembled beneath you, his cock twitching so deep inside you that you could feel another orgasm building.

So close.

So fucking close.

“You gonna cum for me again, baby?” you purred. “You gonna fill me up till I’m dripping down your cock, huh? One more for me, birthday boy.”

His mouth dropped open like he was gonna respond but then he came.

Hard.

With a grunt and a sob and a strangled gasp of your name. You slowed your movements, grinding down on him, dragging it out, making him feel every second of it. He looked up at you, completely wrecked, pupils blown, sweat clinging to his skin.

But your hips didn’t stop.

And neither did your voice.

“Don’t think we’re done yet, baby.”

You leaned in, kissed him slow and deep, tasting his moans as he trembled beneath you.

“I want one more. I want you crying while I take every last drop.”

Hope you guys enjoy. Drop a though on what I should write next or maybe not it’s ok 👍🏻

treacherous || luigi mangione

genuinely spent so much time pondering how to write this out, thank you to the anon who sent the request i really love how it turned out :,) also in my head luigi loves taylor swift, hence the ending mwahahaha

WARNINGS: none, fluff, a moment where luigi snaps from stress, f!reader, kinda (not really) proofread

SUMMARY: After being freed from prison, Luigi has plenty to catch up on and he tries his best to reply to letters from supporters, but between keeping up with them in a timely manner, having a new girlfriend and other things he’s trying to do — he snaps at you.

WC: 2.1k

It had been over a year since he walked free. Through thick and thin — it had been endless hours of pondering, worry and prayers to a higher power; unsure if they were even listening. By some miracle, the verdict fell on the courtroom like an angelic tune: “not guilty.” His legal team had spent so much time in understanding every aspect and working through so many kinks that they encountered. But they did it.

It was you he found in the midst of it all, an escape from the hells he suffered through, when he saw you, when he read your letter – he felt like he had found heaven. There was something about you that fascinated and intrigued him. He impacted you equally – the male’s image, what he stood for… Something almost revolutionary that somehow united a split nation. Your heart ached every time something new was revealed about his case, the way he had been treated was diabolical. A disgrace to the country – to the world – to the people.

Strong as a tree he stood, resilient and kind despite his circumstances. Even behind bars – he was such a darling before it all happened. You always believed in his innocence. The mere thought of support made his heart cheerful, even in the strange, various ways people expressed it. He was proud to bring people together.

So, now that he sat in the comfort of his own home, still haunted by the memories of the life he endured inside that prison – he kept a smile on his face and continued to spread positivity, more than happy to keep in contact with those who showed him nothing but love in a time of pain. It was difficult to write back to what seemed like over a thousand different letters, but he kept persistent and worked diligently day in and day out to be sure everyone received a response from him. He was writing a letter back to a mother, to whom he pondered his reply for a few days now. It troubled him more than most letters normally would, considering these types were always heartbreaking. The ways the healthcare system treated families was so dehumanizing. It was a sad reality.

He wasn’t all for the public eye and attention on him, he never was – he appreciated it nonetheless, he would never not be grateful for people caring. It was a rocky process, getting out so many responses. Sometimes he’d get a bit stressed because of it. Today was one of those days, he had a major hand cramp, a slight headache on the left temple and a sudden stump. His fingers trembled, causing a shake through the pen he jotted with; a cramp in his back made him sit up straight forcefully and he glanced out the apartment window – a little break for his eyes.

When sense finally sunk back in and he focused on the paper, you had walked back in from running a few errands. Luigi had been so indulged in keeping up with his replies for weeks. It became a little annoying for you, not necessarily because you needed his attention – okay maybe you did; but all he did lately was write. Day in, day out. He tried not to overwhelm himself with anything else so it didn’t disturb his thought process while reading then replying to letters. Perhaps tonight you would cook something for him, and he could take a break to talk with you. His routine was just: wake up, clean up, read through letters, have lunch around noon, then he’d start responding to all of those letters he spent reading during the morning. He’d grab a snack for dinner or order out for you both, and still be writing.

Sure, his dedication was endearing, however it could be too much on you. It felt like your partner had just become another person in the house rather than what he was before he decided: “I think I’ll start replying to all of those letters.” 

“Hey Lu,” you said softly as you hung your keys on the hook by the door, kicked off your shoes and sat your bag on the couch. He doesn’t reply, just hums something as he writes. You sighed and carried the bag of groceries to the kitchen, then sat them on the counter. “I’m cooking dinner tonight, so we can sit together and eat. Maybe you can tell me about your letters?” You smile, placing some refrigerated things in their place; and all you’re met with is a nod from the back of his head. Shaking your own, you slowly pad off to the bedroom. You had been ready to shower since you got up, while you were out, you went to the gym. 

After, you winded down. Drying your hair carefully, applying skincare and dressing comfortably. Maybe an hour went by – you weren’t entirely sure. You stand, sliding into your fuzzy slippers and emerging from the bedroom, no surprise that Luigi’s still sitting there silently. “Hey, I’m gonna start cooking now, I know it’s a little early but I was thinking we could have a movie night.” 

No response … You continue on with what you please. 

He was hyper-focused on making the best response, and all he heard was the nose you were making. Clanking a pot or two, rustling food packages, popping oils, every sound sinking into his ear drums and driving him nuts. Accidentally, you dropped some tomatoes, they were just the small cherry ones. “Shit,” you muttered, they rolled around and scattered. Luigi rubs his temple. When dinner was finished, you were so content with it, you glanced over at Lu. “I’m done with supper, are you ready to eat?” ...  “Luigi.”

Silence. “Babe.”

Nothing. Again. “Luigi,” You call, and he turns, staring at you. He then rises up, comes over and picks up the plate you were holding for him. “Mhm.” He hums and walks back off to the desk. Like getting a toddler’s attention – the casual span of a gnat of course, Luigi plops back down in his chair and eats while reading another letter. You dine alone at the table, quietly. The only sound to flow throughout the room is the gentle scrape of the silverware on the plate, or small swallow. You offer Luigi seconds, but he denies. So, you take his plate and begin cleaning up – normally he would assist with that, or do it himself if you cooked; alas, tonight he wouldn’t.

Your hands are rushed over by warm, soapy water as you scrub the plates, the silverware, the pan and pot you used. Then carefully wiped down the stove, the countertops and the table despite you being the only one who sat there tonight. You were able to sit down, just let out relief knowing that was all set and done – in the corner was Lu, writing again. After dinner you guys would relax on the couch and watch a series or movie together, soak in life. He was able to enjoy breathing freely again when he’d sink into the cushions and throw pillows – wrap his strong arm around your side as you lay your head on his broad chest, your serotonin bursting out as you burrow in his embrace.

It's the opposite, you don’t lean into anyone, no extra warmth, no company, just you, the couch and the black TV screen you hadn’t turned on yet. You wanted to wait, perhaps he’d change his mind tonight, he’ll set everything aside and come to you. Tuck himself behind your body as he cradles you into his side, cover both his and your legs with a fuzzy blanket, pet your hair until you eventually fall asleep right there so he’ll carry you to bed.

Not tonight.

You take yourself back to bed after TV time – if you even consider it that. The TV stayed on mute as to not disturb your boyfriend’s intense writing session in the corner of the apartment. It only bothered you somewhat. 

What finally tipped the iceberg was waking up at 2 AM and finding the illuminating light from a small lamp on his desk still on. His eyelids droopy, his pen hovers over the page hesitantly, shaking ever so slightly. Luigi was one blink away from passing out.

“Lu, come to bed will you?” Your voice replies gently – there’s no visible reaction from the male. “Luigi,” you repeated. He draws in a breath, sitting up, his back cracks quietly, causing his face to contort in a reflection of mild discomfort. Being hunched over the desk all day is equally worse to being hung over a laptop or phone all day. Which he normally was against doing to himself. He cut a connection with electronics at a certain point in his life, and he swore it was one of the greatest things he did to help his mental and physical health. Now here he is, sleep deprived and ruining his posture simultaneously 

“Please come to bed, you look so exhausted.” 

He tilts his head and continues to write (what you’re assuming is) a new letter. You just missed him, you wanted to cuddle to sleep and know he was there in the bed by you as you close your eyes and let peace swallow you whole. Your heart aches to be without him – even if he is there. You love him too much. 

“Luigi, babe–” “Oh my god, don’t you see that I’m trying to write these letters?! Just shut up for five seconds, I’ll go to bed when I’m ready!” He snaps at you, the tiredness is clear as day on his face. Normally his skin is a gentle tan, slowly losing its color – going pale again. HIs eye bags were saddening and as you stared in disbelief that he snapped at you like that. It’s truly painful to you. You understood he was busy, overly stressed trying to respond to more letters than possible every day. He needed to slow down though. He was driving himself crazy by not sleeping enough and not socially interacting only through letters.

He sat silent after his little snap, he sighs as immediate guilt crept over him and he looked at your expression. Never used to that, he never gets angry or upset with you, he always talks it out slowly, genuinely, lovingly. He had no idea what came over him, but now – staring at you – his beautiful, tender-loving girlfriend who he probably just startled by yelling at – was eyes-wide and arms folded. 

“Baby, I’m so, so sorry – I didn’t mean…” His apology is delayed when you walk off to the bedroom. He rubs his aching face, then combs his fingers through his curls and stands – finally. After hours. He swallows a lump in his throat as he makes his way back to your shared room and leans against the doorframe. “Look, baby…”

“I don’t want to talk to you, Lu.” Your voice is muffled by the way you lay against the pillow – facing away from the door. “Look – I didn’t mean to snap at you okay? I’m really stressed right now… That’s not an excuse though, I should never yell at you, bellissima.” He murmurs, sitting beside your feet at the edge of the bed, his weight sinks the mattress awkwardly. His hand reaches out, lanky fingers wrap around your leg and he gives it a squeeze through the fabric of your pajama pants. When you don’t respond, he clenches his jaw, he has no idea what to do other than to give you attention. He should’ve done it before, never ignored you, he felt horrible.

“I’m so, so sorry princess.” He whispers, crawling up on the bed behind you. He snaked his arms around your waist, his breath heats the side of your neck as he begins peppering kisses right there. All he knew was he wasn’t letting either of you go to bed until you were happy again. He squishes your back against his front. “Dolcezza,” he sighs, “Please talk to me.”

You shake your head slowly, he kisses your jawline. “You’re my princess,” his breath tickles your skin. “I’m gonna make time for you, I shouldn’t prioritize anything else in the world over you, my love. Even cheesy letters.” He says, you turn onto your back and he immediately grins, the corners of his lips turn up, his cheeks blush every time he sees that pretty face of yours. He inches towards you, resting his chin in the valley between your breasts, harmlessly.

He flaps and flutters his big hazel eyes, those flawless lashes – like a new puppy. “Oh fine, you big baby.” You smile, but his smile’s brighter. He leans up and plants his plump rosy lips against yours. “So treacherous.” His eyes meet yours again.

You squint and raise a brow, “Was that a Taylor Swift reference?”

“Maybe.”

“You actually like Taylor Swift!”

“All too well.” He says cheekily.

IMAGINE….

you post a tiktok exactly like this after you and toxic!luigi break up…

luigi has his phone clutched in his hand, stomach churning as he watches the tiktok of you and your friends applauding. he’d bite his lip, glaring down at the illuminated screen, examining you.

you’re dressed in a mini skirt and a crop top, wearing clothes you know he’d hate if you were to go out alone in them.

but, you’re broken up. it shouldn’t matter to him.

but it does.

luigi seethes at the sight of your friends cheering you on, mindlessly giggling and clapping.

he’s filled with blind rage at the thought of you going out like that, without him, to talk to other men. hell, he couldn’t even bare the thought of other men looking at you.

he watches your tiktok over and over and over again… before closing the app he already hated so much, throwing his phone angrily. he only got the god-forsaken app because you begged him to. he gets himself so worked up, even though he fucked up your relationship.

good thing the break up was recent.

luigi still has your location.

and he wants to have a talk.

idk girl but something inspired by dear god by tate please <3 i just know you’d do it justice

priest luigi moodboard

notes: some lyrics to dear god by tate mcrae included but i changed them up a bit sorry 😭😭 this is ALSO for @luigisbambinaaa and obviously @alleviatcd

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

father luigi is a priest fraying at the edges, torn between the sacred vows he’s bound to and the raw, hidden desires that eat away at him. he leads sermons in the church with a voice like smooth granite, his calmness a sheer front to hide the inner storm burning within. under his cassock, he’s sinking into sin, wrapped up in an affair with you, a nun, and he fucking loves it. the way it sets his pulse ablaze, pulling him deeper into a dark, thrilling abyss he can’t pull away from. the guilt crashes into him hard, and he’s been trying so desperately to doge the brutal weight of god’s scorn, but it’s starting to crack. it’s fading at the edges as he goes further down a shadowed path, corruption creeping closer, threatening to swallow his last scraps of divine remorse whole.

dear god, take her kiss right out of my brain.

take the pleasure out of my pain.

dear god, get her imprint out of my bed.

take amazing out of our sex.

take away the way i still might want to.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

this is for my priest luigi fic that i’ll start working on soon ;)

They say lip color is tip color babyyy

Oh don’t remind me or I’ll start thinking

Do you think you can write a drabble based on Sunday Morning by Maroon 5 with Lu? Every time I hear that song I think of him

sunday morning

warnings: smut, p in v, breeding

summary: you and luigi have morning sex while you talk about your plans for the day :,)

notes: i dedicate this to miss flowerluvr because you sent me the request and omg tumblr will not let me tag you for some reason AND ALSO to the queen herself @diors002 because i know how much you love the idea of cuddlefucking with lu in the morning while talking about your plans for the day 😣

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

sunday morning, rain is falling

steal some covers, share some skin

clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable

you twist to fit the mold that i am in

sunday morning melts into a hazy glow, the world shrinking to the heat of luigi’s body pressed against yours, face to face, your breaths tangling in a shaky, intimate cuddle.

his cock glides slowly inside you, slick and gentle, each careful thrust a warm pulse that makes your breath catch.

“sleep good?” luigi whispers, his morning voice low and rough, lips brushing softly against your shoulder. he presses deeper, the warm, full stretch of him filling you completely, drawing a quiet sigh as your bodies mold together, perfectly aligned.

“mmm… dreamt about the ocean.” your words are soft, fraying at the edges as his hips roll, the slick heat of his cock gently nudging that sweet spot inside of you, sending a quiet shiver through you. “what about today? whaddya wanna do?”

luigi hums, his breath warm against your neck as he thrusts gently, the motion steady, intimate, like he’s savoring every inch of you. “hmm… breakfast first, maybe? we could walk down to that cafe you like.”

“sounds perfect.” you hum, voice trembling as you moan, taking him deeper, the slow stretch blooming into a soft ache.

“fuck, you feel so good… it’s such a nice day… mmh.. we could walk through the park after breakfast…” he moans, his tongue licking the sensitive spot on your neck, his cock driving into you, sending shudders through you. his voice carries a soft smile as he fucks you, his hips speeding up, thrusts turning faster and rougher, deepening the raw, electric connection between you.

you open your mouth to answer, but a sharp cry escapes instead as his cock hits your g spot again, the angle dead on, the sensation igniting a fiery burst of pleasure that makes your toes curl. “luigi… oh f-fuck!” you whimper, words splintering as another deep thrust hits the same spot, flooding you with ecstasy that drowns out everything else.

you wrap your legs around his torso to bring him even closer, pressing your forehead against his, too overwhelmed by the blinding bliss to string a sentence together. “park.. i-mm…” you try, but it collapses into another breathless moan, your body surging toward him, craving the searing heat as he keeps slamming into you, each rough thrust unraveling you more, your mind swallowed by the pulsing, electric tide of pleasure.

luigi’s lips twist into a teasing smirk, eyes gleaming as he senses your trembling surrender. “aww, what’s wrong? too dumb on my cock? huh?” the playful taunt drips with smug confidence as his hips slam harder, blurring your vision as ecstasy floods through you.

a laugh escapes from you, blending with another trembling moan. “you’re… one to talk.” you manage, voice breaking under the weight of bliss, a mischievous glint in your eyes despite the consuming heat.

his thrusts turn feral, hips snapping with a frenzied rhythm, his cock slamming into your soaked, throbbing cunt, each stroke harder, deeper, with the wet, filthy slap of skin on skin filling the room. your moans grow louder, desperate and unrestrained, as the pleasure surges to a breaking point, your walls clenching tight around his thick shaft.

“fuck-baby… gonna cum inside you” luigi groans, voice hoarse and cracking, his forehead still pressed to yours, eyes burning with raw hunger as he fucks you hard, his cock stretching you out so good, throbbing inside you. your nails rake his back, legs trembling as you pull him closer, body writhing under the merciless onslaught, the heat coiling tighter, ready to snap.

“i’m close too,” you sob, “please lu, cum with me, fill me up!” the words tumble out between moans, raw and urgent, as you press into him, pussy gripping his cock, pleasure spiking to a blinding crest, poised to crash as you both hurtle toward release together.

luigi’s thrusts turn wild, his cock pounding into you with desperate speed, stretching you out so good, each stroke driving you to the brink.

your moans escalate into screams, sharp and uncontainable, as the coil in your stomach snaps, pleasure erupting through you like a storm.

your pussy clamps down hard around his cock, spasming in fierce, shuddering pulses, slickness gushing as you cum, your body trembling violently, nails carving into his back, legs gripping him tight. the intensity sears through you, leaving you breathless, quaking, consumed by the overwhelming heat.

his deep groan rips free, his hips faltering as your orgasm pulls him under. “fuck-“ he gasps, slamming deep one final time, his cock pulsing as he cums inside you, hot, thick waves flooding your cunt, coating your walls as he grinds against you, emptying himself completely. the warmth of his release spills within, blending with your own, your bodies fused in the raw, messy bliss of it all.

as the tremors fade, luigi melts into you, curling up close, his body molding against yours in yet another cuddle. he tucks his head into the crook of your neck, breath warm and uneven against your skin. your fingers run through his curls, softly combing through his sweaty, disheveled hair. he lets out a gentle whine, his face still tucked into the crook of your neck, but he shifts, lips trailing to the slope of your breast. he kisses it lightly, his breath hot against you.

“when can i finally get you pregnant?” he asks, voice deep and warm, a playful edge mixed with something sincere, his eyes flicking up to yours, searching for an answer.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

previous work