What If You Were Mine?

27

He told you not to make a big deal. But you were already holding the weight of everything he’d survived. You weren’t going to let this birthday pass like it didn’t matter. Because it did. He did.

—

He’d barely mentioned it.

Didn’t remind you. Didn’t act excited. Just shrugged the day before and said, “It’s not really a big deal.”

But you saw the way his voice dipped when he said it. Saw how he wouldn’t meet your eyes. Saw the quiet ache in his hands when he rubbed the scar near his wrist, the one he never talked about. You knew what the silence was trying to hide:

He never thought he’d make it to 27.

And if he was being honest, he never expected to be loved through it.

So you didn’t throw a party. You didn’t make a big public thing. You didn’t post him, didn’t tag him, didn’t perform your love.

You just woke up early.

Slipped out of bed while the world was still dark. Let the cold floor shock you awake. Wrapped his favorite hoodie around your body,still warm from his skin, and stood barefoot in the kitchen, hands trembling as you lit a single cinnamon candle. The flame flickered against the quiet. You tried to breathe. Today mattered. He mattered. And if no one else had ever shown him that, you would.

—

You made him chilaquiles the way your mamá taught you. No shortcuts. Real salsa. Fried tortillas. Over-easy eggs with the yolk just a little runny, because that’s how he liked it, even if he’d never say so out loud. You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt a tear hit the back of your hand.

You weren’t sad.

You were overwhelmed. With the weight of his survival. With the memory of the first time you ever heard him talk about prison and how small his voice got. With the way he still flinched when someone knocked too loud or got too close from behind.

He was here.

And you’d be damned if his birthday felt like just another day.

—

He came out of the bedroom quiet.

Sweatpants. Hoodie. Messy curls falling into his eyes. You didn’t say anything at first, you just looked at him. Like it was the first sunrise after the storm.

He froze.

“…Did you do all this?”

You smiled softly and turned back to the stove. “I didn’t do anything.”

He didn’t move right away. Just stood in the doorway with that look on his face, like he didn’t know how to receive love without wondering when it would be taken away. Eventually, he walked over. Sat down. Looked at the plate you set in front of him like it might disappear if he blinked.

You didn’t rush him.

You just poured him coffee. Sat down next to him. And reached across the table to wrap your fingers around his wrist.

“I’m proud of you,” you said quietly.

His eyes dropped.

You squeezed gently. “I know you don’t like birthdays. I know you don’t think you deserve any of this. But you do. You made it through hell. And you’re here. That matters. You matter.”

For a long time, he didn’t speak.

And then

“…I didn’t think I’d live long enough to see this.”

His voice cracked on the last word.

You stood, walked around to his side of the table, and pulled him into your arms without hesitation. He buried his face in your hoodie and let himself break open quietly, shoulders shaking, fingers clutching your waist like he was scared you’d vanish if he let go.

And you just held him.

Because you’d never let him go without knowing: he was loved.

—

That night, when the sun dipped and the world settled, you lit a different candle.

Not for him.

For you.

Because you needed the reminder too: that softness could survive after everything. That love didn’t always have to hurt. That this, this quiet life, was real. Luigi was on the couch, scrolling through a book of old family photos his sister had mailed. He didn’t say anything when you grabbed the speaker and played a slow song, something old, Spanish, romantic.

You just offered your hand.

He raised an eyebrow.

“You really want to dance?”

You nodded. “Yeah. In our living room. Right now.”

He sighed dramatically, but you could see the smile tugging at his lips. He stood up slowly, cracking his knuckles like it was a chore, but when he pulled you close—one hand on your lower back, one cradling your jaw—it was the softest you’d ever seen him. You danced like the world didn’t exist outside your walls. Like he hadn’t been through hell. Like love could be slow and quiet and safe. He pressed his forehead to yours halfway through the song, and whispered:

“I feel like I’m dreaming.”

You smiled into his cheek.

“No, babe. You’re just finally waking up.”

—

Later, in bed, his voice broke the silence again.

“I know I didn’t want anything big,” he said, lips brushing your collarbone. “But this… this was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

You ran your fingers through his curls.

“I know.”

He turned to look at you, eyes tired, but glassy with something too tender to name.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You shook your head.

“You don’t have to earn me. I’m here because I want to be. I love you, Luigi. Not in spite of everything. But because of it.”

That’s when he cried again. Not because he was broken. But because for the first time in years, he felt whole.

—

And on his 27th birthday, Luigi Mangione didn’t need cake or noise or applause.

He just needed you.

And he had you.

Completely.

@snoopy184 @luigisbambinaaa @mangionesdaisy @luigis-wetdream @daydreamingwithluigi

honeymoon with lu headcanons

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ he’d take y࣪ou to sicily for your honeymoon of course, because he’d wanna show you where his family roots are, also because sicily is the PERFECT place for a honeymoon :,)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ you’d spend your time hiking, biking around and going to various popular tourist destinations, with luigi constantly taking photos of you with his digital camera like the good traditional man he is.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ speaking of him taking photos of you, on your honeymoon he’d take soo many dirty pics of you, such as ones of you with his cock in your mouth, photos of you sucking your own cum off of his fingers and photos of you with him inside you ;)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ you’d make so many dirty videos during your honeymoon, some of them would last for hours

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ the sex would be amazing, multiple rounds a day, sometimes you’d just have slow romantic sex, other times he’d be fucking you in pronebone (i’m so sorry, i saw the opportunity and just had to take it) while moaning into your ear about how happy he is that you’re finally his wife

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ whenever you’re at your villa you’re both either naked or in swimming clothes, no inbetween

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ he loves telling people you’re on your honeymoon, when you guys were on a tour of the valley of the temples he told the tour guide you guys were on your honeymoon and you were like 🙄🙄🙄🙄

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ you’d also take photos of him too when he’s not looking because he’s just sooo :(

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ at night when you’re not having sex you’d find yourselves cuddling skin to skin in bed together while you plan out your future :(((

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ there’d be a pool in your villa and because of this you’d pretty much walk around in your bikini whenever you’re there, which means that luigi would definitely be fucking the shit out of you multiple times a day, but you don’t mind one bit. you love it

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ you and him found this secluded part of the beach to go to, and made AMAZING use of it by having sex in a spot right by a bush.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ you were on top the whole time riding him, and he had his camera out recording and couldn’t get enough of how sexy you looked.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ “look at you, fucking your husband in public” 🤭🤭

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ your honeymoon lasted about a month, simply because you both have very stressful lives back home and wanted to get away for as long as you can

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ you’d tell him to not buy you stuff, you feel like you don’t need anything considering you’re already on your honeymoon with your husband which is enough, but he always buys you expensive gifts when your back is turned and you always roll your eyes at him and scold him, but you love and appreciate the gifts anyway <3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ one time he lifted you up, opened the window, sat you on the windowsill and fucked you so hard even though there was a high chance that someone could’ve walked by and seen, but he didn’t care. and that’s how your first baby was conceived ;))

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i’m so sorry this isn’t longer i’ll be honest it’s because i ran out of ideas, but i hope u all like this regardless 😭❤️

luigi thought of the day 🤗

you being pregnant with your kid and at the beach, and your stomach is too big and far along for you to reach down and put your sunscreen on ur legs <3 so luigi has you standing there on the beach in the hot sun while he’s very diligently putting sunscreen EVERYWHERE on ur body <3 like lifting your arms up and out of his way to get ur sides completely covered. holding ur hair to the side while getting ur neck…

on his knees in the hot sand, smoothing the lotion all over your calves and thighs and ass <333 tells you “keep your hand on my shoulder, baby. last thing we need is you falling” while he’s massaging your tense calves. definitely gets very handsy when he’s covering the backs of your thighs and ass. has no shame in sneaking his hands under ur bottoms. also definitely likes doing it because he can tell other men are eyeing you on the beach even tho it’s sooo obvious you’re pregnant. and well, of course luigi has to let them know only he can touch you like that! because he’s the one who knocked you up and you’re carrying his baby. not theirs :-)

i love this video sooo much

This video just further proves to me that he runs his mouth like crazy

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..

🍓

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.

luigi at a halloween party (2019) + crumbs

I can’t stop thinking about Luigi overstimulating you while smirking absolutely pleased with himself that he can wreck you so easily 😩🫦🫦

COCKY MEN ARE MY FAVE HEHEH

Ugh imagine… you’re an actual mess under him. Your eyes can’t stay open, mascara smearing down your cheeks, your voice is horse, throat dry, limbs limp. You’re spent. But Luigi thinks he can pull another orgams out of you. One last one.

“Baby I know you can go another round”.

You don’t even have it in you to deny it. He uses his huge hands to pry your legs open. Placing one hand on your inner thigh to keep you from closing them. He uses his free hand to guide his pulsing dick over your slit. Rubbing it against your clit. You jolt at the feeling, whining out loud.

“I can’t” you whimper

“Yes you can, bambina. Come on, one more for me, hm?” He’s smiling above you. He knows you’ll obey him.

You simply nod, and he carries on, sliding the head of his cock over your slit, over and over.

“Yeahh that feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks

“Yeahh” you sigh out.

He enters you, slowly, stretching you out so perfectly. You use the last ounce of energy left to lift your arms, covering your mouth, muffling the moans and mewls from your mouth.

“No no baby I wanna hear them” Luigi says, lowering your hands.

You drop your hand, trying to focus on Luigi. Trying to focus on what’s going on between your legs. His movements become more erratic as he gets closer to his own orgasm. You’re so sensitive now. You’re practically pulsing, clit rubbed raw.

Luigi’s looking down at you, smiling, as your eyes roll to the back of your head. You place a hand on his abs, trying to get him to let up. He moves your hand away without a word and begins pounding into you at a sinful pace.

Each time he enters he bottoms out, the head of his cock hitting your cervix. The pain and pleasure is too much and you squirm under him. He places one hand in your chest the other under your thigh holding you in place.

“Don’t fucking move.” He orders.

You curse and try to stay as still as possible. Your legs are shaky, chest heaving and arms weak.

“Please please please” you chant. “Tooo much”

He continues his pace, grunting as he cums. His hips stutter and he pushes in one final time, spilling into you. He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing desperately pulling a final orgasm out of you and you scream out.

He quickly shoves his fore and middle finger into your mouth to stifle your moans. You bite down as you writhe under him, the pleasure becoming too much. You feel hot tears spilling down your cheeks as you try to catch your breath, coming down from your high.

You look up to see Luigi smiling down at you. “I knew to had another one in you” he laughs.

“One last round” he asks, smirking.

Luigi Mangione- February 21, 2025

good morning