your friends are around, so be quiet — luigi mangione x reader
title from so high school by taylor swift
𐙚 summary: you and your boyfriend, luigi, participate in a silly, innocent bet, agreeing that the loser owes the winner a favor. you end up losing, but the favor you have to do for luigi is not what you expected…
𐙚 includes: established relationship, smut, semi-public sex, rough sex, oral sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, dirty talk
𐙚 author’s note: i got a little carried away with this one lol. i’ve never written anything remotely similar to this before, but i really enjoyed it ;) also, thank you so much to @iinfinitelimits for helping me out <3
(divider from saradika-graphics)
The evening started out innocently enough.
Or at least, that’s what you thought when you came over to Luigi’s apartment, lounging with him on the couch, ice cold beers clutched in your hands.
He asked if you wanted to go play pool in the basement rec room. Fun. Simple.
But not for long. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Luigi in the six months you’ve been dating him, it’s that nothing is ever that simple with him. You simultaneously love that and fear it at the same time.
This time, it turns out, you should fear it.
Your relationship has always featured playful challenges— easy bets over anything from who can chug a drink faster, who can guess the movie plot twist first, who can make the perfect cocktail with the perfect balance of sweetness and bitterness.
So you think nothing of it when he bets that he can beat you in a game of pool. “Loser owes the winner a favor,” Luigi announces, his usual mischievous grin on his face as he holds the pool cue.
“Deal,” you reply with a decisive nod, shaking his hand and sealing the bet in place.
You’ve beaten him at pool plenty of times before, and you’re fairly confident in your abilities. This is going to be a breeze.
And it was a breeze. Until your confidence subtly turned into cockiness.
Before you know it, you’re watching yourself accidentally shoot the eight ball into the pocket when you still had two balls left.
“Fuck,” you groan, throwing your pool cue onto the table in frustration and running your hands down your face.
Luigi laughs maniacally across the table from you, rubbing his hands together like he’s been waiting for this very moment all night long. “Winner, winner, vegan dinner,” he says, bowing to a nonexistent audience and doing some kind of twisted victory dance.
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you grumble, peeking at him from in between your fingers.
“Oh, babe. You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Your hands fall limply to your sides as you narrow your eyes at him. Now you’re confused. And slightly worried. “What is that supposed to mean?” you ask.
You’re not sure you really want to know. That knowing, triumphant look that you know all too well is on his face now, and his hazel eyes are shimmering with something promising under the dim basement light.
That always means trouble.
Your stomach flips a few times.
He silently crosses the room to you in a few short strides, towering over you and looking a little too delicious in his fitted black t-shirt and jeans he’s worn too many times. You swallow. “What’s the favor?” you ask, quieter this time.
His smirk is absolutely wrecking. And he knows it.
“You know how the guys are coming over tomorrow for movie night?” he asks, tilting his head at you.
“Yeah…” you reply, skeptically.
His hand reaches up to cup your face, his thumb gently running a line over your jaw. “You and I are going to share a blanket, as always. Perfectly innocent. And you’re going to stay completely quiet, no matter what, while I… entertain you.” His voice is low, but it cuts right through you anyway.
Every nerve in your body hums to life, heat pooling low in your stomach at both the idea of him entertaining you and the high amount of risk associated with it. Your thighs clench together instinctively at the phantom feeling of his fingers exploring every inch of you.
“That’s… insane,” you breathe, your voice cracking on the word.
His smirk doesn’t falter. “I know. But, in case you haven’t noticed,” his voice drops even lower as he leans down closer to you, his breath fanning over your lips. You suck in a breath. “You and I are pretty insane, too,” he whispers.
He closes the distance and seals your fate with a lingering press of his lips to yours. It makes your knees weaken.
This is going to be a challenge, in so, so many ways.
But there’s nothing you can do about it. A bet is a bet. A deal is a deal.
The next night arrives far too quickly.
Luigi’s apartment buzzes with energy as three of his closest friends— Jason, Marcus, and Tony, filter into the living room, packs of beer and an endless supply of snacks in tow.
You and Luigi settle onto the end of the couch, Marcus and Tony in the middle cushions, Jason on the armchair across from the couch. Popcorn bowls, chip bags, and a pizza box litter the coffee table, everyone cracking open their beers as the distinct scent of pizza and cologne wafts into the air around you.
The opening credits of some action movie roll on the big screen TV, but you don’t even pay attention to the title as your heart races in anticipation. This is not a good idea. Not good at all.
Luigi pulls the thick throw blanket over your laps, his thigh pressing firmly against yours as his arm drapes casually over the back of the couch behind you. Perfectly normal. A perfectly innocent, cozy couple to anyone who looks at you.
The lights are dimmed, only the light from the TV screen flickering through the room, illuminating the guys’ faces and the beer bottles in their hands.
You can feel Luigi’s presence next to you as he leans down to your ear. “You ready for this?” he whispers, so low that only you can hear. His breath is hot against your skin and it sends a shiver down your spine.
You nod, almost imperceptibly, biting your lip from a mixture of nerves and excitement as you try to keep your gaze trained normally on the screen. Your heart continues to pound relentlessly in your chest and you think there’s a good chance that he can hear it.
His arm moves from the back of the couch and slowly snakes under the blanket, his hand settling on your knee first. His fingers trace lazy circles on your skin as explosions boom on the screen, making you flinch slightly. You’re not sure it was totally from the explosions, though.
His hand slides higher, inch by inch, until it rests on your inner thigh, his thumb brushing the hem of your shorts. You shift slightly, unwillingly spreading your legs more, just barely, giving him a little bit of easier access.
Luigi chuckles softly beside you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You need it that bad already, huh?” he teases.
You ignore him and try to act natural, forcing a smile as Marcus cracks a joke about the protagonist’s bad aim.
Luigi’s fingers, achingly slowly, move up, finally dipping under the waistband of your shorts, grazing the edge of your panties. You wore his favorite pair today, the black lace thong he always stops to admire for a second longer before ripping it off. Not that he really needs an extra treat right now.
He hooks a finger under the lace, pulling it aside just enough to bare you to the cool air under the blanket. You clench your jaw, staring unfocused at the screen where cars are crashing in a high-speed chase.
His middle finger traces your slit slowly, from bottom to top, collecting the slickness that has already gathered. You’re wet, embarrassingly so, and he notices immediately. You barely catch the quiet breath he sucks in next to you, a soft hum escaping him.
Luigi leans down to your ear again. “You’re always so perfect and wet for me, baby,” he whispers, barely above a breath. Your entire body shivers in response. “Look at you, all excited for me to touch you with our friends sitting right next to us.” He clicks his tongue softly. “You’re just a sucker for punishment, aren’t you?”
He suddenly presses his finger against your clit, starting off as a light touch, before he begins circling it with an agonizing slowness. Your breath hitches, but you cover it with a fake cough, reaching for your beer on the side table. You take a careful sip, your fingers trembling against the glass.
“Pass the popcorn,” Tony says, completely oblivious to the torment you’re experiencing, leaning over Marcus to grab the bowl when Marcus doesn’t do it. The movement jostles the couch, just barely, and Luigi takes advantage of it, slipping his finger lower to push just the tip inside of you.
Your walls clench around him, desperate for more, but he holds back, teasing, withdrawing almost immediately to rub your clit again.
You let out a small whimper of frustration as the pressure builds, a slow rhythm that makes your toes curl against the rug.
The movie drones on with some villain monologuing about world domination, but you barely register it. Luigi's hand is relentless now, another finger joining the first to part your folds. He circles along your entrance, dipping in shallowly, coating himself in your arousal.
You grip the edge of the blanket, your knuckles whitening, and force your face to remain neutral as your jaw stays firmly set. Jason laughs at a punchline, his voice booming, and you use the noise to stifle a tiny whimper as Luigi finally plunges deeper.
“I heard that, sweetheart,” Luigi mumbles, working you open with his fingers. “Such a naughty girl. You’re supposed to be quiet, remember?”
His words send another rush of heat through you as his fingers curl up inside of you, finding that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyes. You screw your eyes shut tight, setting your lips in a sharp line as hard as you can as you swallow your moans.
Your predicament must be evident on your face, because Luigi laughs lightly next to you, clearly amused by your situation. Asshole.
Luigi’s fingers pump slowly, in and out, the wet sounds muffled by the blanket and the movie's soundtrack. You clench around him, sucking him in, and he adds his thumb to your clit, rubbing firm circles that make your hips twitch involuntarily, almost bucking up into him. You press your thighs together, trapping his hand, but he just chuckles softly, the vibration traveling through the small space between you.
“You should’ve bet on something easier,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. You shoot him a glare, but you gasp sharply when he twists his fingers, stretching you wider. You clamp your hand over your mouth immediately, heart pounding, as you look at his friends, praying that they didn’t hear it.
Miraculously, they’re all focusing on the movie as more loud sound effects echo throughout the room, not looking your way. Your body almost goes limp with relief, but his fingers twist again, and you bite your lip harshly behind your hand.
The fullness from just his two fingers is intense, his knuckles grazing your inner walls as he thrusts deeper, adding an extra layer of pleasure coursing through you.
Luigi hums right into your ear, the vibration shooting tremors down your bones. “That feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” he mutters, punctuating it with a particularly hard thrust.
You nod, swallowing hard as a moan almost escapes.
“Use your words, sweetheart. Quietly,” he instructs.
You suck in a sharp breath as he adds a third finger, opening you up further. Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing, testing you like this.
You try to take a steadying breath, making your voice as quiet as possible. “Yes, baby, it feels so good.”
He lets out another satisfied hum, and you can practically feel his smirk as he drives his fingers up with full force.
Your heart pounds faster as you have to bite back moan after moan. You pull one of your knees up to your chest, hands fully shaking as you make sure you’re still fully covered, knee and all. You practically bite your knee, trying to make it look like your hand is just casually near your mouth and not covering it.
That probably wasn’t a very good idea, though, because now Luigi is reaching even deeper, having even more access to you.
Marcus suddenly stretches, yawning loudly. “This part's dragging,” he says, “anyone want another beer?”
Tony murmurs a quick “sure,” and Marcus stands up, blocking the TV momentarily, and Luigi seizes the distraction. He fucks you harder with his fingers, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.
He increases the pressure on your clit, his thumb pressing down hard and moving rapidly. You can feel your pleasure crashing through you, the waves building higher and higher as it coils tightly in your stomach. You can’t stop your hips from moving in rhythm with his fingers as you rock back and forth against the cushion, practically riding them, driving him even deeper as he constantly curls his fingers inside of you.
“Do you need something?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper as his lips trail against your jaw.
You try to swallow your desperate whimper, but it catches in your throat, a strained sound escaping.
Luigi chuckles quietly as he plants a few lingering kisses to your jaw. “That’s what I thought.”
The feeling is too much and not enough all at once, but you can feel your orgasm building quickly. You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you taste blood, tears pricking at the edges of your vision as you somehow still manage to hold back the relentless sounds clawing up your throat.
The protagonist in the movie is fighting hand-to-hand now, the grunts and thuds filling the room, concealing the obscene, wet sounds of his fingers fucking into you. You accidentally let out the quietest of a moan against your knee, your eyes shooting open after, but fortunately, the movie drowned it out, too.
Luigi’s free hand comes to squeeze your thigh under the blanket, holding you steady as your entire body begins to tremble, your legs shaking against the cushions. His lips brush the shell of your ear and your eyes close again as you force yourself to swallow his name. “Come for me, baby,” he mutters, his voice rough. “Come all over my fingers, but don’t let them hear.”
You start to feel panicked, shaking your head as you look at him for the first time. Even in the dim light, you can tell that his eyes are half-lidded and dark, satisfaction and desire swirling around in them. It sends another wave of pleasure through you despite the rising anxiety.
“They’re going to hear,” you whine, forcing your words out through gritted teeth as your voice shakes with every syllable.
He just grins down at you, somehow starting to thrust even deeper, his pace so quick that you can’t hold it back anymore. “Then let them, princess. Let them hear how good I make you feel, what a desperate mess I turn you into,” Luigi mumbles, a challenging edge to the command that feels far more tempting than it should.
Your orgasm crashes over you harshly, your walls spasming around his fingers as you come hard. You shove your face into the crook of his neck, pretending to nuzzle him affectionately, as you let out a few quiet sounds of his name and curses into his t-shirt. Stars explode behind your eyes, your entire body on fire as you clench around him hard enough to hurt. You can feel you soaking your shorts and the blanket, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
He doesn’t stop, though. Even as you slowly come back down, panting softly against him, his fingers keep stroking you, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure as the aftershocks roll through you. You feel oversensitive all of a sudden, every movement of his fingers against you making your entire body twitch.
“It’s too much,” you whimper, your body still trembling against him.
“You can take it, baby. Let me help you ride it out.” He kisses the top of your head as he strokes a bit lighter, but you still feel every bit of it.
Marcus returns with fresh beers, handing one to Tony. They both clink bottles with each other, then Jason, turning to you and Luigi. Luigi casually pulls his hand away from your thigh to grab his beer and join in, an easy grin on his face like everything is perfectly normal.
Your hand shakes as you pick up your own bottle from the side table, and you force a tight-lipped smile as you clink bottles with each of the guys. You hope that they don’t notice the way your arm wobbles in the air.
Luigi lightly pushes his bottle against yours, his eyes boring into you as a sly smile crosses his face. Your heartbeat quickens in your chest again as he looks down at you, watching you like he’s about to devour you whole right in front of his friends.
“To bad guys getting wrecked,” Tony toasts, and they all drink, none the wiser to what just happened two feet away from them.
Luigi sets his bottle back down and finally withdraws his fingers from you, slick and shining in the dim light as he pulls them out from under the blanket. He brings them to his lips, sucking them clean with a pop that you feel more than hear. Your face flushes, a mix of humiliation and a new rush of arousal flooding through you. He drapes his arm around you again, pulling you close, kissing your temple gently as if nothing had happened.
The movie's explosions burst through the living room, but every inch of your body is still buzzing and humming from your orgasm. Luigi has effectively left you soaked, still slightly trembling, and aching for more.
The end credits finally start to roll as the guys stretch out on the couch and chair, complaining about the plot twists, and you feel a sudden, urgent need for a drink. Your throat is dry from holding back all of those moans, and your legs wobble as you stand, the blanket slipping away to reveal your flushed cheeks and disheveled shorts.
“I need another beer,” you mutter, your voice coming out a bit too breathy. You avoid eye contact with everyone, staring pointedly at the floor, as you head towards the kitchen. You can feel Luigi’s eyes burning into your back as you leave, sensing the smug grin that he wears so well.
The guys barely notice as they’re too busy debating the film’s ending, but Luigi still waits a beat before following you, casual as ever. “Yeah, I need one, too,” he calls out, his tone innocent and light enough to fool anyone else.
The kitchen is separated from the living room by a half-wall that gives just enough privacy, but not much. You can still hear the guys’ laughter filtering into the room, chip bags rustling as they rummage for more snacks.
You pause at the counter for a second, gripping the cool marble like it’s the only lifeline you have as you can still feel yourself shivering every few seconds.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you open the refrigerator, the cold air hitting your hot skin harshly.
Your fingers wrap around the neck of a beer bottle, but you have no time to pick it up before Luigi is behind you, his body pressing flush against yours with his fingers digging into your hips.
You let out a gasp of surprise, then another, lower one as you feel it. He’s fully hard, straining against his shorts as he presses into your ass.
As if he can sense the sound before it comes, he clamps his hand over your mouth just in time to muffle the moan that escapes you.
You still find it ridiculously sexy that he derives so much pleasure from satisfying you.
“You think you can just walk away after coming all over my fingers like that?” he whispers, his breath hitting your ear and sending another shiver through you.
His hand moves away from your mouth to travel back down to your waist, trailing even lower as he squeezes your ass firmly over your shorts. You bite your lip, glancing over your shoulder at the doorway. You can see Jason’s back from here, and if he were to turn around, he would see everything that’s going on. You can hear every single word that they’re saying from the kitchen. Your heart skips a beat.
“They’re going to be able to see us,” you whisper, glancing up at Luigi nervously. His eyes are still dark, but you think they’ve actually gotten even darker. It sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core.
He says nothing as he reaches around you, grabbing the beer bottle you long let go of. He shuts the fridge door, leading you to the opposite counter along the half-wall where you’re fully concealed.
He pushes you forward against the counter, still pressing against you from behind, as his hand slides up under your tank top, his fingers trailing along the underside of your breast before pinching your hardened nipple harshly enough to make your knees buckle.
You whimper softly, but he clamps his free hand over your mouth again, pulling you back against his chest.
“Good girl, staying quiet,” Luigi praises, voice low and rough. “You’ve done so good tonight.”
He starts slowly rocking his hips against you, his hard dick rubbing against you and providing you with friction that makes you clench with need.
His hand releases your mouth, just to trail down your body and hook back inside the waistband of your shorts, yanking them and your panties down in one swift motion. They pool around your thighs, leaving your lower half exposed in the dim lights of the kitchen, your thighs still slick and glistening from earlier.
Luigi's hand dives between your legs without hesitation, two fingers plunging straight into you, curling up to stroke that sensitive spot that makes your legs shake. Your arch against him, stifling a cry into his palm as he covers your mouth again.
“Fuck, you’re still so wet,” he growls, pumping his fingers in and out of you with a deliberate slowness, the wet sounds too loud in the quiet kitchen.
His thumb finds your clit, circling it roughly, already building pressure back up inside of you again. His other hand moves to knead your breast underneath your shirt, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You barely bite back your sharp gasp, your hands digging aggressively into the marble in front of you.
You start to feel dizzy, not just from the intense pleasure, but from the sheer thought of the heightened amount of risk rushing over you. The guys could wander in for a drink any second, see you bent over the counter with Luigi’s hand buried inside of you as you drip everywhere for him. The thought only makes you wetter as his fingers drive into you with more force.
He adds a third finger, stretching you further as he curls them up deep inside of you. The angle from behind is almost too much to bear. Your vision blurs at the edges as you throw your head forward, a quiet gasp escaping you. You hope and pray that the guys couldn’t hear it from the other room.
Luigi tuts from behind you, squeezing your breast hard. You barely bite back a loud moan. “Now, now, that’s no way to stay quiet, is it?” he asks, feigning disappointment. “You have to try harder than that, baby.”
You can’t answer him as wildfire spreads throughout your body, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm, the waves building again. Luigi rubs your clit faster, and your hips start bucking back into him to meet his thrusts, chasing your release wildly.
His free hand leaves your breast and threads into your hair, pulling it hard enough to make you gasp again, but he swallows the sound as he leans down and kisses you aggressively, still working his fingers in and out of you and abusing your clit.
You moan helplessly into his mouth, grateful to have a bit more freedom now. The hand in your hair moves down and grips your bare ass, and you moan loudly against him, muffled by his lips.
“I hear you, baby,” he groans, the sound echoing into your mouth. “I bet that feels so good, doesn’t it? Finally being all loud and naughty again like that.”
You whimper, nodding against him as one of his nails scratches your inner walls. You yelp into his mouth, the stinging sensation only adding to the heat curling low in your stomach.
The kitchen counter digs harshly into your hips, but you don't care, every thrust of your hips and his fingers sends jolts of pleasure and pain through you.
The guys' voices drift closer. Tony says something about it getting late, and your heart thuds violently as you start to clench around Luigi’s fingers.
He senses how close you are, picking up his pace as his fingers pound into you with relentless rhythm, his thumb rubbing your clit hard enough to hurt.
“I’ve got you, baby, I know. Let go for me,” Luigi whispers into your mouth, letting out a low groan as you moan into him.
Your pleasure builds far too fast, your second orgasm crashing over you even more intense than the first.
Luigi covers your mouth just in time as a scream escapes you, muffling it hopefully enough. He continues working into you as deep as he can go as you ride out the aftershocks, trembling against him.
When you finally stop shaking, for the most part, he pulls his fingers out with a wet pop sound, making you feel completely empty and wrecked. He tugs your panties and shorts back up, and you pull them the rest of the way, adjusting them. Your thighs are completely soaked and you turn around to Luigi just in time to see him sucking his fingers clean again.
He grins down at you, as smug and satisfied as ever, and kisses you quickly, taking your breath away as you taste yourself on him. “You’re fucking insane,” he whispers, his voice pure gravel.
He grinds against your core one last time like he can’t stop himself from doing so, making you whimper softly at the friction, before leaving you to grab another beer from the fridge. He hands yours to you, grabbing your free hand and pulling you back into the living room, still in a daze.
The guys are completely oblivious as you come back in, or at least, they act like it, now deep in conversation about something football related that you don’t understand at all. They hardly even notice you entering the room.
You and Luigi sit back down on the couch, your legs still wobbly. You pull the blanket back over your laps, more so to hide the slickness between your legs, and Luigi’s hand rests on your thigh underneath it. He jumps into the conversation like he has been there all along, and you have absolutely no idea how he manages to do it.
After their new, heated debate about fantasy football finally dies down, Marcus yawns, stretching his arms high above his head. “Man, that was intense. But I’m beat, I need to head out,” he says.
Tony and Jason murmur their agreements, standing and gathering bottles and empty wrappers to throw away.
Luigi plays it completely cool, withdrawing his hand from your thigh and standing as they do. “Yeah, this was a blast. Can’t wait to do it again,” he says, clapping Tony on the back.
You force a smile, clenching your thighs together to hide the lingering tremble in your legs as everyone says goodbye and the guys file out into the hallway. Luigi clicks the lock as he shuts the door, and the apartment falls silent aside from your still ragged breathing.
Luigi turns to you, his eyes feral and almost predatory, his usual smirk curling his lips up. “Finally alone, babe. I’ve been waiting all fucking night.”
He doesn’t waste any time.
Before you can say a word, he closes the distance and crashes his lips into yours, hands gripping your hips so hard you think it’ll probably leave bruises. The two of you stumble back to the couch, and he lays you on your back as he climbs on top of you.
You can feel him, still hard, pressing right against where you can already feel yourself getting wet again. The kiss is deep and all consuming, and his tongue assaults the inside of your mouth.
“The bet’s over now,” he growls against your mouth, breaking the kiss to tug your shirt up and over your head. You gasp as the cold air hits your bare breasts.
He pauses, just for a second, to look into your eyes. “I want you to be as loud as you can be, baby. Let me hear all those pretty sounds you love making for me.” He gives you no chance to respond before he dips down and sucks one nipple into his mouth, pinching the other one between his fingers and rolling it around.
Your back arches up instinctively into him, your hands fisting into his curls. “Luigi— fuck, please,” you beg, voice hoarse.
He chuckles around you, releasing your nipple and pulling back to stare down at you. “Well, since you did such a good job taking it around my friends tonight… I’ll reward you,” he says, smirking devilishly at you.
He moves back down, trailing kisses and bites down your stomach. His fingers hook into your shorts and panties all at once, yanking them down and tossing them off to the side somewhere. You’re completely naked under him now, aching for every inch of him.
Luigi shoves your thighs further apart, kneeling between them before diving in. His tongue sticks into your folds, drawing up in long strokes as he laps up your arousal.
You cry out, the ability to finally moan freely sending more pleasure through you. Your hips buck up into his mouth as he sucks your clit, his teeth grazing just enough to sting. Two fingers plunge into your entrance without warning, already pumping fast and deep. He curls them up into your sweet spot relentlessly, your eyes screwing shut as you moan constantly.
“Fuck, oh my God, yes,” you moan, continuing to buck your hips as you meet his thrusts.
He groans loudly against you and it vibrates throughout your body, your vision blurring again. He continues to eat you out like a starving man as he works you open with his fingers, moving up and down with his tongue before rhythmically sucking your clit.
The faint stubble on his jawline scratches against your inner thighs as he moves, causing more heat to pool low in your stomach.
The couch creaks under you as he adds a third finger, continuing his assault.
“Always so fucking wet for me. I’ve been waiting to do this all night,” he mutters, voice muffled against your skin as he sucks your clit back into his mouth.
You scream his name again, your head thrown so far back into the cushions that it shoots pain down your neck. You can feel every inch of your body buzzing as the pleasure coils tightly, close to snapping.
“Fuck, Luigi, I’m gonna come,” you pant, nails digging into his scalp.
“Do it, baby, come for me again,” he coos. “I want to taste every single part of you.”
You clamp around him and your legs tremble, your orgasm ripping through you as you scream again. He laps up every ounce of your arousal, fingers continuing to thrust into you until you almost start to cry from the overstimulation and sensitivity. You have never felt this sensitive before, and you love and hate the feeling all at once.
Luigi releases his fingers and brushes some of the damp hair from your forehead with one hand as he wipes your arousal from his chin with the other. He leans back down until his lips hover above yours. Your breathing is completely unsteady, coming out in sharp bursts.
“Are you tired of me yet, baby? Or do you want more of me?” He asks, hands trailing up your sides.
You don’t hesitate. “More. Please.”
He smirks at you like he knew you would say that. “Such a needy girl,” he sighs.
Standing, he sheds his clothes within seconds, leaning back over you and grabbing your ankles, draping your legs over his shoulders. He lines up with your entrance, pushing into you with one sharp thrust. He’s buried to the hilt, and the stretch hurts so good. You let out a scream, nails raking up and down his back as he starts pounding into you, hips snapping with the force.
The couch shifts with each thrust, and he’s deeper than you think he ever has been before, the angle causing him to pound against your cervix.
His nails dig into your hips as he loses all restraint, his hips already twitching as he pumps in and out of you.
“You take it so well,” he pants, sweat glistening all over his body and dripping from his curls. “You look so beautiful like this, your voice is so pretty when you scream my name. You did so well tonight, staying quiet for me, didn’t you, baby?”
You nod, unable to form words as you feel yet another orgasm building quickly.
“I love you so fucking much it’s unreal. I don’t know what to do with myself,” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief.
You’re about to respond, when he suddenly pulls out. You gasp at the emptiness, but then he flips you onto your stomach in one strong motion. You immediately arch up into him, and he chuckles behind you. “Such a good girl. I don’t even have to ask you half the time,” he says, slapping your ass quickly before slamming back into you from behind with renewed force.
He fists his hand into your hair, yanking your head back towards him in a rough kiss as he fucks you from behind, both of you swallowing each other's moans.
The position lets him go even deeper somehow, and you chase your climax once again, feeling it approaching fast. His free hand moves down to rub your clit hard, and you cry out into his mouth.
“Come on, come for me one last time, baby, I know you can do it,” he grunts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the otherwise quiet living room.
Your orgasm tears through you before you even have time to warn him, the most intense of them all as you throw your head back, screaming his name over and over again. He follows you over the edge, groaning loudly as he empties into you.
Luigi collapses against you, both of you panting and slick with sweat. You move under him, flipping onto your back again.
It takes you a minute before you can say anything, your breath escaping in uneven huffs. “Holy fuck,” you breathe, laughing. “That was fucking crazy.”
He laughs against your neck, the sound vibrating throughout your body. He pulls back enough to look you in the eye and you push his damp curls out of the way.
“I guess you need to lose bets more often,” he says, that devilish glint returning to his eyes.
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