Oh My God 😩

GIVE ME THIS SICILIAN MAN RN.

😩😩😩😩

imagine letting Luigi push your breasts together with his giant hands while he makes that phd do a wet-and-wild disappearing act in the cleavage... and you kitten lick his tip every time it gets close to your mouth 💚🌼

Ohh anon I love!!!

he’s holding your tits tight, knuckles white, trying to keep them pressed around him while his hips stutter and his breathing gets messy. you’re barely touching him, just slow, soft licks every time the tip slides close enough. deliberate. playful. cruel in the sweetest way.he keeps trying to hold eye contact but he can’t. he’s twitching, leaking, biting back whimpers. every time you lick him, his whole body reacts like it’s too much. like he’s not built for this. like you’re the only one who’s ever touched him like this loved him like this, and when he finally loses it? it’s quiet. drawn out. his mouth opens but nothing comes out. just a gasp, a moan, and the sound of his body giving up under your hands.

End the death penalty NOW, and free Luigi Mangione.

To donate to his official legal fund, click here.

To remain informed about his case, click here.

i love this video sooo much

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

What if you were mine?

Pt.1

The kitchen light was too bright for how late it was, but she didn’t bother turning it off. Everyone else was either asleep or pretending to be, and she was standing there barefoot in her tiny shorts, eating cold mango straight out the Tupperware like it wasn’t the middle of the night.She should’ve gone to bed.But instead, she was half-naked, sticky with chlorine, hair still damp from the pool, and thinking about his fucking hands. She didn’t even hear him come in,just felt it. That weird shift in the air. That thing that happens when someone’s watching you. “Damn,” his voice came from behind her, low and scratchy. “You’re really out here eating all the mango by yourself?” She didn’t jump. Just glanced over her shoulder. “It’s not all for me.”

“You didn’t offer, though.”

She turned around slow, leaning against the fridge door like she didn’t care that her tank top was basically see-through in this lighting. Like she hadn’t seen him in the pool earlier with his stupid wet curls and his stupid chest and his stupid forearms that made her wanna crawl out of her skin.

“You want some?” she asked, holding out a slice between two fingers.

Luigi walked over,barefoot, towel around his neck, shorts slung low on his hips,and stopped too close. Like he didn’t realize it. Or like he absolutely did. Instead of taking the bowl, he took the piece from her hand. Bit into it, juice running down his fingers.Her breath caught. Just a little.

“You always walk around like this?” he asked, licking his thumb casually. Too casually. “Like what?”

He gave her a look. Her thighs. Her chest. Her mouth. She raised her brows. “You’re the one half-naked.”

“Yeah, but I’m not the problem here.”

“Then what is?”

“You,” he said, quiet. Like it wasn’t even up for debate.

She laughed, soft and mean, just enough to make him shift his weight. “You’re dramatic.” He tilted his head, studying her for a second. Then, like it just hit him: “Wait. How old are you again?”

“Nineteen,” she said, deadpan. She didn’t even blink.His whole face changed. Not disgusted,just like he suddenly forgot how to breathe.She leaned in a little. Not touching. Just close. Close enough to be annoying. “Is that gonna be a problem?”He backed up half a step. Ran a hand through his hair. Looked like he wanted to say yes but didn’t trust himself to open his mouth.

“I’m not a kid,” she said, softer now. Like she meant it. “You’re not gonna go to hell for thinking I’m pretty.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

She tilted her head, smug. “I do, actually.”

He exhaled hard, shaking his head. “You’re dangerous.”

“You’re weak.”

And then he laughed, this low, breathy thing that made her knees feel weird. He turned like he was gonna leave,but then didn’t. He stopped right at the counter, palms braced on either side, like he needed it to stay grounded.She could see the muscles in his back flex. The way he was breathing too slow.

“I’m gonna bed,” he said, finally.

“Liar.”

He looked at her, tired and full of something she couldn’t name. “You’re not supposed to be this young,” he muttered.

“And you’re not supposed to be this easy.”

He didn’t reply,didn’t move. Just stared at her like he was counting to ten in his head. Like he was already thinking about what she’d taste like if he gave in.

He was still staring at her.Just… standing there. He’d said he was going to bed like two minutes ago and yet here he was, still in the kitchen, still shirtless, still breathing like she’d just hit him in the chest. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t move either. Because the second she did, he might bolt. Or worse, not bolt. And she didn’t know which one would be more fun to watch.So instead she just raised her brows, like: Well?

He looked at her like she was a problem. Like she was a decision he already knew was gonna fuck him up but he hadn’t made peace with it yet. He huffed a breath, ran a hand down his face. His fingers dragged along his jaw like he was trying to physically snap out of it.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?”

She tilted her head. “Do you?”

That made him look at her different. Like, really look. His mouth opened like he was gonna say something else,some grown man, voice-of-reason type shit,but nothing came out.

And then he just… stepped closer.

Not a big step. Not all dramatic. Just one quiet shuffle across the tile that made her stomach flip because now they were too close.She could see everything. The water still clinging to his collarbones. The dip of his waist. That stupid freckle on the left side of his neck that she wanted to bite for absolutely no good reason. He glanced at her mouth. She saw it happen.And instead of pretending it didn’t make her heart do something ugly, she just said, “If you’re gonna kiss me, do it.”

His whole face twitched. “I’m trying not to.”

“That’s not hot,” she whispered. “That’s annoying.”

He actually laughed. Like a real one. Shaky and soft and like it caught him off guard.Then he said, “You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Maybe I do,” she said, and then added: “Maybe I’ve been thinking about your hands since before dinner.”

His jaw clenched. Like actual muscle movement. Like he was fighting something off.

“That’s not fair,” he muttered.

She leaned in just slightly. “None of this is.”

For a second, he just stood there. Watching her.

And then?

He kissed her.

Messy. Fast. No dramatic buildup. Just his mouth crashing into hers like he couldn’t take it anymore. Like fuck it. Like he knew he’d regret it later and didn’t care.She gasped. Her back hit the fridge harder than she meant. His hand caught her waist like instinct. Like he was scared she’d disappear. It was one of those kisses that made no sense. Teeth. Tongue. His thumb at the corner of her mouth. Her leg sliding up the back of his calf without thinking.

And then, Footsteps,hallway,voices.He broke off like he’d been burned. Stumbled back, lips swollen, eyes wide.

“Shit,” he whispered.

She just stood there, breathless. Wrecked. Smiling.He didn’t say anything else. Just grabbed the mango bowl and walked straight out the back door barefoot like he was running from the devil. She stayed leaning against the fridge, touching her lips. Mango-sweet. Luigi-warm.And yeah.That was definitely gonna happen again.

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

He should’ve walked away the second she looked at him like that.Not when she smirked.Not when she said he was easy.Not even when she told him she wanted him.

No,he should’ve walked away when she leaned against the fridge like she knew what she was doing. Like she’d been waiting all day for him to crack.

But he didn’t,because he’s a fucking idiot.

Now he’s outside, sitting on the steps barefoot with the stupid mango bowl in his lap, palms sticky and chest still tight from kissing her like that.

It wasn’t supposed to happen.

He told himself he’d be good. Chill. Polite. That he’d smile and make conversation and keep it innocent,but then she walked into the kitchen with no bra on and mango juice on her fingers and called him easy, and it was over.

And the worst part?She was right.

He was easy….for her. He folded so fast it was embarrassing. The sound she made when he kissed her? The way her hands gripped his waist like she was about to pull him in harder?

He’s never going to forget that.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, palms over his face. His mouth still tastes like her. Her lip gloss. Her breath. That little sound she made when he bit her bottom lip too hard by accident and she liked it.

He should’ve stopped.

Should’ve never started.

But god, she looked at him like he was a secret she wanted to keep. Like she already knew what kind of mess she was making and didn’t care.

And now?

She’s still in the kitchen. Probably touching her lips. Probably still tasting him. He hears someone walk through the hallway behind him,probably her cousin or someone else staying in the house. The door creaks open slightly, but no one comes out. He doesn’t turn around.

Because if it’s her, he might do it again.

He might pull her into his lap right here on the porch and kiss her slow this time. Not desperate. Not rushed. Just… slow. Deep. Lazy. Like he has all night,and if it’s not her, he doesn’t want to talk to anyone else.

The door closes quietly. Good. He’s not ready,not even close. He looks down at the mango bowl,still mostly full. Like he didn’t just sin over this exact fruit five minutes ago.He laughs once. Quiet. Exhausted.Then sets the bowl down beside him and leans back against the wall, head tipped up toward the sky.

She’s nineteen.

He’s twenty-seven.

And he’s already thinking about how she looked at him when she said his name.

“Luigi.”

He squeezes his eyes shut.This is bad,he already knows he’s gonna want her again tomorrow.

*****************************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

father luigi lets a shaky breath leave his mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For your eyes only

The door shut behind him with a quiet click.

Luigi hadn’t been home in seven days,his family needed him, work dragged him across the city, and he missed her so bad he’d jacked off in a hotel shower more than once just thinking about her thighs around his head,but nothing, nothing prepared him for what he walked into. Red light spilled out from the bedroom, casting shadows up the hallway. The house smelled like vanilla musk and something darker,something feral.Music pulsed low from the speakers. Shakira, She Wolf. He squinted into the glow.

And then he saw her.

Hair twisted up like a crown, heels strapped tight, red lace stretched across her body like it had been painted on. The lingerie was obscene,thin ribbons framing her curves, sheer mesh between her thighs, nipples barely hidden behind lace and tension. She stood in front of a pole.

No greeting.

No kiss.

Just a glare tossed over her shoulder. He dropped his duffel bag without blinking.

“Babe,” he breathed.

“Sit,” she snapped.

He obeyed. Chair. Corner of the room. She moved toward the mirror like she owned the night. He could barely keep his hands from shaking.She gripped the pole and,spun,slow, controlled, thighs tight, hips rolling with unholy precision. She didn’t break eye contact. Not once. Her reflection stared him down, dragging her fingers along the inside of her own thigh. Then she bent forward, the lace stretching across her ass, and slid into a split like she was born for it.

Luigi’s throat dried.

“You didn’t think I’d learn while you were gone?” she murmured, barely audible over the music. “Did you think I’d sit here waiting? All soft? All obedient?”

“Jesus,” he rasped.

“I’ve been patient. Good. Cooking. Folding. Moaning when you asked.”

She turned. Bent backward until her hair grazed the floor. “And what did I get for it? A kiss over FaceTime and some promises.”

He swallowed, hard. “I missed you.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” she said, deadpan, strutting toward him now. “You don’t get to touch me just because you missed me.”

She dropped to her knees in front of him. Ran one single finger up the length of his thigh. Watched him twitch. Then pulled back.

“I could come right now. Make myself do it. Wouldn’t even need you.”

His jaw clenched.

“You wouldn’t.”

She stood again. Turned around. Bent over in front of the mirror and slid her hand under the lace. Just like that. Luigi’s chair scraped against the floor.He was behind her in two strides, grabbing her wrist and wrenching her back against his chest. But she fought. Elbow to his ribs. Knee against his thigh. She writhed like something untamable, and all he could do was hold on.

“You don’t get to play with me and act surprised when I break the game,” he growled into her ear.

“I told you not to touch me,” she hissed. “Want me? Earn it.”

He shoved her against the mirror.

And she smiled.

That was the moment he snapped. He grabbed her jaw and kissed her like a punishment, rough, teeth and tongue, hand pressing her chest against the glass. His other hand yanked her lace aside, fingers slipping between her legs.

“Already wet?” he hissed. “All that teasing just for me?”

“For me,” she spat back. “I got myself like this.”

He bit her shoulder. Hard. And she moaned. Nails scraped down the mirror. Her reflection was flushed, wild-eyed, mouth open. She looked like she was ready to kill him or ride him until he begged. He freed himself from his sweats with one hand, lining up behind her, grabbing her hips like they were the last things tethering him to sanity.

“No more games,” he muttered.

“No promises,” she shot back.

And then he pushed in. Her gasp cracked open the room. He slid in slow,thick, pulsing, deep, and she shuddered, forehead pressed to the mirror. He paused only when he bottomed out, letting her feel just how much he missed her.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. “You’re so—tight—”

She rolled her hips back. “Then do something about it.”

He did.

Thrust after thrust, harder, deeper, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. Her red lace was pushed aside, twisted around her thighs, his hand tangled in the straps like reins. She stared at herself in the mirror while he wrecked her, biting her own lip, dragging her fingers over her nipples until he knocked her hand away.

“That’s mine,” he growled. “All of you is mine.”

She laughed,wild and breathless.

“Then take it.”

He lifted her leg onto the mirror ledge and pounded up into her, teeth at her neck, nails clawing into her hip. She threw her head back and bit him,right on the trap. He jerked, groaned, fucked her harder.

“I missed this pussy,” he muttered. “I missed how you fight me for it.”

“You never win,” she spat.

“You let me win.”

And then she tightened,legs trembling, walls pulsing around him,and he lost it. Drove into her with reckless desperation until he was snarling, buried deep, coming so hard he saw stars. His forehead dropped to her shoulder, chest heaving. They stayed like that for a moment. Breathless. Sweaty. Shaking. Then she turned her head and licked the blood off his lip.

He stared at her. Completely gone.

“I’m not soft,” she whispered.

He kissed her again. Slower this time.

“I know,” he said. “But you’re mine.”

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

The apartment smelled like sex, sweat, and her perfume. Sunlight filtered in through the half-closed blinds, slanting across the floorboards in sleepy gold stripes. The music had long stopped. The mirror was still smudged with her fingerprints. The red lace she’d worn lay crumpled near the base of the pole like a dead thing,thoroughly used, ripped at the hip, damp with everything they couldn’t say out loud. Luigi lay flat on his back in bed, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other reaching toward the empty side of the mattress.

She was gone.

A second later, he heard the soft clink of a mug on the kitchen counter and the pad of bare feet on hardwood. Then, her voice, smug and slow.

“You’re limping.”

He cracked one eye open and turned his head. There she stood his fucking nightmare in disguise,wearing nothing but his black UPenn hoodie, hood up, legs bare, sipping from a “Bite Me” coffee mug like she hadn’t broken him in half twelve hours ago. Her neck was marked. Her thighs looked sore. But she walked like a queen after conquest.He groaned and let his arm drop. “You bit me.

“You liked it.”

“You tried to draw blood.”

“I did draw blood.”

He sat up and immediately winced. She raised her brows. “Aww, baby’s sore?”

He looked down at his chest,bruises on his collarbone, tiny teeth marks near his shoulder. His abs hurt. His thighs ached. His ego was nowhere to be found.She turned away, giving him a full view of her bare ass peeking out under the hem of his hoodie, and opened the fridge.

“Hey,” he muttered, voice still hoarse from last night, “what the fuck was that?”

She leaned on the counter, sipped her coffee, and licked a drip from her bottom lip. “What? The pole? The mirror? The biting? The way you begged me not to come without you watching?He dragged a hand down his face. “Yes. All of it.”

She looked over her shoulder, eyes gleaming. “That was me being nice.”

He laughed,soft and disbelieving. “I was gonna make you dinner. Light some candles. Be sweet.”

“You were gone for a week,” she said, setting her mug down. “I needed to remind you what you were missing.”

“You think I forgot?”

“You didn’t forget,” she said, walking slowly toward him now, “but I needed you to feel it.”

She climbed onto the bed, straddling him before he could sit up fully. He looked up at her, hands on her thighs, hood still framing her face like a halo.

“You’re dangerous,” he said.She leaned down, lips brushing his. “You like danger.”

He kissed her, deep and slow, both hands grabbing her ass now, grinding her against him lazily.

“Don’t tease,” she warned. “Unless you want round two right now.”

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re serious.”

Her smile was all teeth.

“I’ll make you breakfast,” he said, kissing the curve of her jaw.

“You’ll need to carry me to the kitchen first.”

“You didn’t seem so helpless last night.”

She rocked her hips into his slowly, and his breath caught.

“I let you win,” she whispered.

He grinned. “Yeah, baby. I know.”

And when she bit his lip again, slow and soft, he realized something….She was still hungry,and he was never leaving again.

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

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

Last fic for the weekend maybe (: