May 19
Random Tuesday selfie.
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Random Tuesday selfie.
The cute little poetic contradictory relationship where he strives to protect you in public, but is subservient in private; where he teases you until you turn red with angry laughter, but then he worships even the ground where you stand; where joy and anger and laughter and tears, dominance and submission, gods and devils mingle— that is not a good love.
It’s a great love.
I love it when they make themselves useful.
In the Shadow of Scandal: Luigi Mangione's New Chapter. 18+
The estate was too big, too quiet, too empty. Luigi Mangione lounged in his study, whiskey in hand, staring at nothing. Outside, cameras flashed like angry fireflies, the world screaming accusations even after the judge said not guilty. Inside, he could still hear it—his lawyer’s voice. “Emilia Hart is here to help.”
Help. Yeah, right.
The knock on the door was soft. Too soft for his mood. “Come in,” he barked, ready to dismiss whoever dared intrude.
She wasn’t what he expected. Emilia Hart stepped in like she owned the place—not loud or brash, but calm, sure, like her presence was non-negotiable. Cream blouse, neat hair, no nonsense. Her eyes locked on him, steady.
“Mr. Mangione,” she greeted, her voice calm but firm. “I’m Emilia. Your therapist.”
Luigi raised an eyebrow, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Therapist, huh? Didn’t realize I was that broken.”
“You’re not broken,” she said simply, stepping further into the room. “But you are carrying more than you should.”
He scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “You here to lighten the load, then?”
Her smile was small, almost imperceptible. “If you let me.”
Days blurred together after that. Emilia didn’t push, didn’t prod, didn’t try to “fix” him. She just… was. Morning stretches. Quiet meals. Walks through the gardens he usually ignored. It was maddening how steady she was. Maddening how he started to look forward to seeing her.
He hated it.
One night, he snapped. “Why are you here, Emilia? What’s in this for you? Is it pity? A paycheck? Or just a challenge?”
She stood there, unshaken, letting his words hang in the air before taking a step forward. “I’m here because you need someone to listen.” Her tone softened but didn’t waver. “And because you’re too stubborn to admit it.”
“Listen?” He laughed, sharp and bitter. “To what? My sob story? My defense?”
“To you,” she said, stepping closer, her voice low. “Not the headlines. Not the lies. Just you.”
Her eyes found his, pinning him in place. For a second, he forgot how to breathe.
“You’re not broken, Luigi,” she said, softer now. “You’ve just forgotten how to let someone in.”
He froze, every defense he’d built threatening to crumble under the weight of her words. When her fingers brushed his chin, guiding his gaze back to hers, his resolve cracked.
“Let go,” she whispered. “Just for a moment. Let me hold this for you.”
And somehow, without thinking, he did.
Cuando repetimos mis cielos @mistress_erinia_ @chiaripeucelle . #softfemdom #sweetfemdom #pinkcouch #beautifulgirls #mistresslifestyle #blondemistress #shooting #fotografia https://www.instagram.com/p/CYuUC4XowhY/?utm_medium=tumblr
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