#im a wh0re

[cum4moonie]

We back at it again

Sorry for not replying to dms Ive been busy with a lot of things

[ev00n]

Who’s honry🤤❤️

[secretalphaghost]

THE ASS RULES: 1. Kiss it 2. Grab it 3. Smack it

[spankthegirl]

my ass is trying to eat these panties alive

[kitennnnn]

spank me daddy?

Reposting cuz tumblr took this down before.

Anyone wanna guess what my bra size is? If you do guess it correctly you will get a reward ;)

[jen-44]

energy drinks are my fav😆🥤

──── ୨୧ ────

[dumbbwh0re]

reposting cuz i can't find it on my profile anymore :(

[secretalphaghost]

Wake her up with her pussy in your mouth

[uwtloml]

sorry i was bored and i’m a slut

cw: use of the word mommy (not sexual)

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤, 𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫. 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐮𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫. “𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲?” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭, “𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡.” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭, “𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲,” 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐬. 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐮𝐩, 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝, “𝐦’ 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭.” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦, “𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲, 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝.” “𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲?” 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝. 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞, “𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚. 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐊𝐈, 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚, 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨, 𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮, 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐎, 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎, 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧

[kitennnnn]

question?

if I were your little girl, would you let me go out like this?

Inbox is open if you have any other reasons to yes/no

[wzkfuu]

SAVE A HORSE (ride a cowboy)

cowboy!leon x fem!reader

summary: THIS IS FREAKY .. u guys are just hornballs

notes: reader wears a dress and thats all ok bye

Everything that needed to be done has been done. Pretty quickly, actually.

The stables were clean, the animals well-fed, and there was still the rest of the day ahead with more work to do. Probably need to hop on the tractor to take care of the cornfields later in the afternoon. Ah, and there’s that broken, rickety fence for the goats that needs fixing too. But for now, Leon could rest.

Oh yeah, a damn well-deserved rest after this busy morning.

Hat on his face and hands behind his head, Leon was slowly relaxing, his butt perfectly nestled on a heap of hay. He could hear the horses neighing and cows lowing from afar, and he didn't give a damn. Nothing could disturb his peace.

The sun rays hitting his legs warmed him up, and the pile of straw lightly scratching the bits of skin that showed wasn’t that bad either. It was rather comfy. Another thing that was comfy was his lap, apparently, given how often she climbed up.

And right now was no exception. It was like she knew exactly when Leon took a break! Mind-reading powers or something like that. Or maybe she just knew his schedule by heart now.

"Hey, don't you see I'm tryin' to let loose?" Oh, the laughter in his voice was so audible he couldn't hide it from her . She jumped in his lap just like he predicted, all giddy and happy to bother him. "Ah, God. Stop that!" His retort was playful as he tried to prevent those annoying hands from messing with his hair or playing with his hat. Ugh, his alone time was over.

She squirmed like a damn worm on his thighs, making Leon sink even more into the haystack. "I swear, if your parents see us like this, I'm gonna get kicked out." And he couldn't be more right. If her mom and dad saw their farmer boy with their sweet child like this... oh dear, he preferred not to imagine the rest. Yet despite the very tiny risk, Leon's hands stayed on her hips.

Hell yes. That damn ass is gonna get him fired one day. No doubt.

“They won’t silly!” She smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she reached out and gently took his hat from his head. With a playful flick of her wrist, she positioned it atop her own head, adjusting it so that it sat just right. The hat, slightly too large for her, slipped down over her eyes for a moment, creating a comical look that made her giggle.

"Oh, shut up!" Leon groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. Of course she would say that. She always did. Always so sure of herself, always thinking she knew everything. He bet she had a plan to get him fired.

His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, gripping tightly. "You think I don't know what you're up to? Huh? Trying to get me in trouble with your parents?" Leon's voice was low and gravelly, tinged with amusement.

He yanked her closer, her body flush against his. The heat of her skin seeped through the thin fabric of her dress, igniting a fire in Leon's veins. "Well, it's not gonna work, sweetheart. I'm not that easy."

Leon's free hand slid up her spine, fingers splaying across the smooth expanse of her back. He leaned in close, his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear. "But maybe... just maybe... if you play your cards right, I might just let you have your way with me."

“Well, you know what they say,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye, leaning in close enough for him to catch a whiff of her perfume that smelled like a mix of wildflowers and mischief. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.” The words tumbled out of her mouth with a playful lilt, as if suggesting a rather dirty activity rather than just a simple saying.

Her tone was light and teasing , she flashed him a sly smile, her eyebrows waggling in a way that made it clear she was inviting him to join her in a little bit of fun. It was as if she was daring him, quietly challenging him to step outside the ordinary and embrace a bit of spontaneity.

Leon’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Where did she even learn such a thing? "Jesus, you've been holding out on me, haven't you?"

He couldn't help but chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. Her boldness never failed to catch him off guard. He loved it. Loved the way she challenged him, pushed his buttons.

"Well, if you're offering..." Leon drawled, his hands sliding down to grip her ass. He squeezed the supple flesh, kneading it roughly. "I might just take you up on that."

Leon's hips rolled up, grinding his growing boner against her core. "But I gotta warn you, baby. Once you start riding this cowboy, you ain't gonna wanna stop."

His lips crashed against hers in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue. Leon's hands roamed her body, mapping every dip and curve. He wanted to touch her everywhere, taste her, feel her come undone beneath him.

But he had to be careful. They were still on the farm, after all. One wrong move and they'd both be in deep shit.

Reluctantly, Leon broke the kiss, panting heavily. "Fuck, we can't do this here," he rasped, voice strained with desire. "Your parents could walk out here any minute."

"I don’t care” she declares playfully, her voice dripping with a mix of mischief and boldness. It’s as if a little devil has taken residence in her mind, whispering encouragement to embrace the thrill of the moment. The implication is clear: getting caught in the act doesn’t faze her in the slightest.

In fact, it seems to add a dash of excitement to her otherwise ordinary day. Her flirty demeanor suggests that maybe , the rush of doing something they absolutely shouldn’t do makes the whole escapade even more exhilarating.

"You don't care?" Leon echoed, his voice a mix of disbelief and arousal. Her brazen attitude was both infuriating and incredibly sexy. "Well, I do. I like my job, and I don't want to lose it because you can't keep your hands to yourself."

Despite his words, Leon's hands continued to roam her body, sliding under her dress to caress the smooth skin of her thighs. "But fuck, you make it so hard to resist."

Leon captured her lips in another searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to tangle with hers. He sucked on her lower lip, nipping at it with his teeth. "You're playing with fire, baby ," he murmured against her mouth. "And trust me, I know how to burn."

“Yeah? well gonna keep talking or let me ride you silly cowboy?” She winks teasingly wrapping her arms around his neck and grinding her wetness arousal against his straining cock.

Leon groaned, his resolve crumbling under her relentless teasing. "Fuck, you're a handful, you know that?" he growled, his hands gripping her hips tightly. "Alright, you win. Let's see what you've got."

He ground his hips against hers, letting her feel the full extent of his arousal. "You sure you can handle this, baby?" he taunted, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "I don't want to break you on our first ride."

Leon's hands slid under her dress, pushing it up to expose her lacy panties. He hooked his fingers in the delicate fabric, tugging it aside to reveal her glistening folds. "Look at you, already so wet for me," he purred, circling her sensitive clit with his thumb. "You want this cowboy's cock, don't you?"

Without waiting for an answer, Leon unbuckled his belt, freeing his throbbing erection from the confines of his jeans. He rubbed the head of his cock against her entrance, coating himself in her slick arousal. "Last chance to back out, sweetheart," he warned, his voice low and husky. "Because once I'm inside you, I'm not stopping until we both come so hard, we forget our own names."

GOTCHA sorry i got sleepy LMK IF YALL WANT A PART TWO 👅👅👅👅👅🙏🙏

[realhotgirlshitah]

Getting high with Luigi… yeah I have thoughts and none of them are clean.

The party is a mess of flashing LED lights, sweaty bodies, and the kind of cheap beer that leaves a sticky residue on the floor. The bass is pounding so loud that you can feel it in your ribs, the whole house practically shaking with the weight of the music and the drunken chaos of a hundred different conversations clashing all at once.

But none of that matters.

Because you and Luigi have long since peeled away from the noise, slipping into the one place in the frat house where nobody ever thinks to look—the upstairs bathroom.

The only light in the room is the golden glow from the cheap vanity bulbs above the sink, casting everything in a warm, hazy filter. There’s a half-used bar of soap by the faucet, someone’s forgotten makeup bag sitting next to it, and a faint lingering smell of cologne and shampoo in the air.

But the real highlight of the room is the bathtub.

It’s an old clawfoot, deep and wide, big enough to comfortably fit two people. And that’s exactly what it’s doing.

Luigi is stretched out on one side, all long legs and lazy confidence, his broad shoulders propped against the porcelain, one arm draped casually over the edge. His other hand is occupied with the joint between his fingers, lazily bringing it to his lips before exhaling a slow stream of smoke toward the ceiling.

You’re perched on the other end, back pressed against the opposite side of the tub, knees drawn up slightly, watching him.

Or, more accurately, trying not to watch him too obviously.

Because Luigi is always attractive—annoyingly, unfairly attractive—but high Luigi?

That’s something else entirely.

His sharp brown eyes are a little hooded, half-lidded and unfocused, giving him a sort of effortless, dreamlike quality. His usually furrowed brow is smooth, his sharp jawline relaxed, and the dim lighting makes the natural golden warmth of his skin look even more intense. His full lips, usually quirked into an arrogant smirk or a cocky grin, are slightly parted as he exhales another cloud of smoke.

And when he tilts his head back slightly, exposing the column of his throat, his messy curls falling away from his face, you’re pretty sure you could die happy in this exact moment.

Of course, you can’t tell him that.

So, instead, you take the joint from his fingers and raise an eyebrow. “Jesus, you look like you’re about to start reciting slam poetry.”

Luigi snorts, lips twitching into a lazy smirk. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were anti-intellectual.”

“Oh, I’m very anti-intellectual,” you tease, taking a slow drag, holding his gaze as you inhale. “I’d much rather listen to you talk about, I don’t know, the merits of beer pong strategy.”

Luigi exhales sharply, shaking his head. “See, this is why I have to educate you.”

“Educate me,” you repeat, voice dripping with mock offense. “I am way smarter than you.”

That earns you a lazy, knowing smirk. “Are you?”

“Mmm.” You nod, holding his gaze, blowing a slow stream of smoke toward him. “That’s why I don’t waste my time pondering whether or not we’re all just someone’s science experiment.”

Luigi’s smirk widens. “It’s not a waste of time. It’s probability. Statistically, it’s more likely that we are in a simulation than not.”

You tilt your head, rolling the joint between your fingers. “I don’t know, dude. I feel like if we were in a simulation, my life would be a lot more interesting.”

Luigi huffs out a laugh, tapping ash into an empty red solo cup on the sink. “Oh, yeah? What do you want? More aliens? More explosions?”

You shift slightly, adjusting your position in the tub, the porcelain cool against your skin. “More orgies, honestly.”

Luigi chokes on a laugh, his smirk faltering as he coughs out a bit of smoke. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, shaking his head. “That’s what you’d change if you could reprogram reality?”

You grin, passing the joint back to him. “I’m just saying, if we’re really being watched by some higher intelligence, the least they could do is add some better entertainment.”

Luigi hums, taking another hit, eyes flickering over you as he exhales. “I think you’re just bad at finding your own entertainment.”

There’s something about the way he says it—low, knowing, something just beneath the surface of his voice that makes your stomach tighten.

The thing is, Luigi has always been like this with you. Teasing, cocky, challenging you in ways that make your blood run hot. It’s been your dynamic for as long as you can remember��constant bickering, constant one-upping, constant tension that neither of you have ever really addressed.

And yet, it’s never felt dangerous before.

But right now, sitting across from him in this tiny little bubble of smoke and warmth, his voice low and his gaze heavy-lidded, you can feel something else threading through the usual banter.

Something thick and electric.

Something dangerous.

You shift again, not even thinking twice about it, and then suddenly, you’re moving over to his side of the tub, your knees pressing into the firm muscle of his thighs, your hands bracing against his broad shoulders as you settle yourself right onto his lap.

Luigi doesn’t say anything at first.

He just blinks at you, his long lashes fluttering slightly, his breath catching for just a fraction of a second before he exhales, slow and measured, smoke curling lazily from his lips.

Then, finally, a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “What, not enough space on your side?”

You inhale deeply, the scent of weed, cologne, and something uniquely him filling your lungs. You exhale just as slowly, fingers curling slightly where they rest against his solid chest. “There’s never enough space when you take up, like, ninety percent of it.”

Luigi huffs a quiet laugh, his hands instinctively finding their way to your hips, fingers settling warm and heavy against the curve of your waist. It’s an innocent touch, something he’s done a thousand times before. But right now? Right now, it feels like a live wire pressed against your skin.

And then you feel it.

The slow, creeping realization of just how firm he is beneath you.

How solid his thighs are against the insides of yours, pressing up exactly where you’re sensitive, where you’re already way too warm.

And just like that, the air shifts.

Because you can feel it now—all of it.

The heat of him, the slow, easy rise and fall of his chest beneath your fingertips, the way the rough denim of his jeans is pressing exactly where it shouldn’t be, igniting something slow and insistent low in your stomach.

Your breath hitches, barely noticeable, but he notices.

Of course, he does.

Because Luigi feels it.

He feels the way you stiffen slightly, the way your thighs instinctively press tighter around him, the way you hesitate for just a second too long before shifting again, just a little, but enough that the movement sends the slightest friction sparking against your core.

Luigi notices.

And when he does, his smirk widens just a little.

His fingers flex against your hips, like he’s testing the weight of you, like he’s grounding himself.

“You okay?” His voice is lower now, rougher, thick with amusement.

You swallow, forcing yourself to breathe. “Yeah.”

“You sure?” His thumb strokes along the fabric of your dress, slow and teasing. “You just got really quiet all of a sudden.”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way your pulse stutters at the deliberate touch. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say.”

Luigi hums, considering this. Then, without warning, he shifts his leg slightly beneath you, just a minor adjustment, something so subtle it shouldn’t have an effect on you.

But it does.

The movement sends a slow, unexpected drag of friction right against your already sensitive core, making your breath hitch before you can stop it.

Luigi’s smirk deepens. “Huh.”

You clench your jaw, narrowing your eyes. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” he muses, dragging the word out, his voice lazy, knowing. “Just funny.”

You raise a brow, forcing your expression into something unimpressed. “What’s funny?”

Luigi tilts his head slightly, considering you. “You.”

You scoff, shifting slightly, which is a mistake, because the movement only presses you down harder against him, the fabric of your dress doing nothing to shield you from the sensation of rough denim pressing against where you’re starting to throb.

Luigi inhales slowly through his nose, and when you look at him, really look at him, you see the way his pupils are blown, the way his jaw is a little tighter now, the way his hands are gripping you a little firmer, like he’s holding back from something.

Oh.

Oh, he’s feeling it, too.

The realization sends a hot wave of satisfaction rolling through you, emboldening you.

So, instead of pulling away, instead of laughing it off, you decide to test him.

You shift again, slower this time, more deliberate.

Luigi’s fingers dig into your hips harder.

“Jesus,” he mutters, half-laughing, half-exhaling. “Didn’t even realize you were doing it at first.”

You tilt your head, feigning innocence. “Doing what?”

Luigi exhales sharply, his fingers sliding lower, down to the curve of your ass, gripping firmly.

“This,” he murmurs, and then he moves you.

It’s subtle at first, barely more than a slow drag of your hips against him, but the sensation is enough to send a shiver straight down your spine.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands tightening against his shoulders.

Luigi grins, slow and lazy, watching you. “Feels good, huh?”

You don’t answer at first, too focused on the delicious friction, the way the heat is building, slow and insistent, the way every little movement is sending sparks licking up your spine.

Luigi leans in, his voice nothing but a soft, teasing murmur against your ear.

“You’re soaked,” he breathes, fingers pressing into your ass, rolling you against him again. “Didn’t even realize, did you?”

Your breath stutters, a soft sound escaping your throat.

Luigi chuckles, low and dark, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Oh, baby,” he coos, gripping you a little tighter. “You needed this, didn’t you?”

You swallow, trying and failing to control the way your hips stutter against him, your body desperate for more.

Luigi feels it.

And that’s when he decides to help.

His grip tightens, his hands guiding you now, slow and teasing, dragging you against his thigh in a way that makes you whimper.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, watching you, watching the way your lips part, the way your lashes flutter. “Go ahead, baby. Take what you need.”

Luigi’s grip is strong, firm, guiding you with deliberate slowness, teasing you with lazy drags of your core against the rough denim of his thigh. Every movement sends sparks licking up your spine, the friction igniting something deep and insistent inside you. The joint in his fingers smolders lazily, sending another soft swirl of smoke curling into the air, but his attention is all on you—watching the way your breath stutters, the way your lashes flutter, the way your lips part in quiet, shaky little gasps.

You’re barely even aware of how lost you are in it—how desperate you’re starting to sound, little whimpers slipping past your lips as your hips move in slow, rhythmic rolls, grinding against him in search of more. It’s not enough, not quite, but the teasing build is making your head swim, the steady pressure turning your brain to static.

And then he stops.

His hands fall away from you completely, leaving you suddenly weightless, untethered, forced to chase your own pleasure without his guidance.

The sudden lack of control—the absence of his firm grip—is a shock to your system.

Your movements falter, just for a second, your body aching for that solid pressure, for the way he was rolling you against him just right.

You blink, breathless, tilting your head to look at him. “Luigi—”

“Hm?”

His tone—that lazy, teasing mockery—sends a fresh wave of heat shooting through you.

You huff, shifting against him again, trying to find the same friction, the same pace, but without his hands holding you down, it’s not enough.

He notices. Of course, he does.

His smirk grows. “Somethin’ wrong, baby?”

You glare at him, shifting again, but it’s not the same, it’s not enough, and it makes you whine, frustration slipping into your voice.

“Luigi.”

He exhales another slow stream of smoke, watching you through hooded, knowing eyes. “Dunno why you’re looking at me like that,” he muses, tapping ash into the empty red cup beside the tub. “You were doing just fine on your own.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re such a—”

“What?” His fingers brush against your thigh, just barely, the ghost of a touch that makes your breath catch, but it’s not enough, not even close. His smirk is all sharp edges, cruel, his voice mocking. “Go on, baby. Say it.”

You glare at him, a fresh wave of heat rolling through you, both embarrassment and frustration curling tight in your gut. You want to slap that smirk right off his face. You want to grind down against him harder, make him feel how fucking wet you are for him.

So you do.

You roll your hips deliberately, dragging yourself along the solid heat of his thigh, your movements slow, calculated, and needy all at once.

Luigi exhales sharply through his nose, but he doesn’t touch you.

His hands remain limp at his sides, one still holding the joint between two fingers, the other resting lazily against the rim of the tub. He lets you do it, lets you hump his thigh, lets you grind yourself against him, but he doesn’t help you.

And it’s driving you insane.

Your breathing gets heavier, your whimpers turning softer, breathier, your body desperate for that extra pressure.

Luigi hums, tilting his head slightly, eyes flickering down to where your dress has ridden up around your thighs, where your damp panties are soaking through the denim of his jeans.

“Jesus,” he murmurs, grinning, his voice thick with amusement. “Look at you.”

Your face burns, heat flooding beneath your skin, but you don’t stop—you can’t.

Because you’re so close, the pressure building, the friction making your thighs shake, but it’s not enough, you need more, you need him.

“Luigi—”

Your voice is a whimper now, pleading, breathless, and he fucking loves it.

His smirk deepens, but he still doesn’t touch you. “You’re whining, baby.”

“Shut up.”

His laugh is low and slow, vibrating through your skin, and when you move again—when you press down harder, desperately seeking that perfect angle—his hands twitch, like he’s fighting the urge to grab you again.

You see it.

You feel it.

And it makes you even needier.

You let your forehead drop against his shoulder, whimpering softly into the warm skin of his throat, pouting against him as you continue to grind yourself down.

He exhales another slow stream of smoke, the scent curling around the two of you, wrapping you both in a thick, heady fog.

But he doesn’t move.

Not yet.

Not until you break.

Not until your voice turns soft and needy, your whimpers shaky and desperate, your hips stuttering as you chase it, as you beg for it without words.

And then—finally—he gives in.

“Fuck,” he mutters, voice rough now, the teasing edge starting to fray as his hands snap back to your waist, gripping you hard, pulling you down against him, dragging you against his thigh deliberately, roughly, guiding you exactly the way you need.

You gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as he grinds you against him, the pressure perfect, the friction intense, his voice turning low and thick, dripping with filthy, taunting satisfaction.

“There you go, baby,” he coos, dragging you against him harder, feeling the way you’re soaking him, feeling the way you tremble in his grasp. “That’s what you needed, huh?”

You whimper, barely able to breathe, your pleasure climbing higher and higher, a hot, pulsing coil threatening to snap.

“You gonna come just like this?” His voice is a smirk, mocking but low and wrecked all at once. “Grinding all desperate on my lap?”

You whine against his throat, your hips stuttering, your body losing control.

Luigi groans, feeling it, feeling how sloppy you’re getting, how soaked his jeans are beneath you. “Fucking hell,” he mutters, gripping you harder, dragging you against him roughly, deliberately, pushing you over the edge-

And then you snap.

Your body locks up, your thighs trembling, your breath breaking as liquid pleasure spills over, soaking completely through his jeans, your pleasure ripping through you so violently that you sob against him.

Luigi stills.

Then he laughs, low and breathless, running a slow hand over the soaked denim of his thigh.

“Jesus, baby,” he mutters, grinning, his voice wrecked and pleased and fucking feral. “Did you just squirt all over me?”

You groan, mortified, hiding your face against his neck.

His grin grows.

Then, with zero hesitation, he takes another slow drag from the joint, exhales against your ear, his voice low and dangerous.

“Next time, I wanna feel that on my cock.”

A/N: yall im sorry i just saw the messages the messages between max and lu where he says he’s high and i had to take 20 minutes out to word vomit out my nastiest thoughts about stoner Lu. That’s it. I’m a whore and one that has a whole fic needing to be finished but I did this instead. Crazy.

[m0mmy-dearest]

Domme and sub in matching outfits only difference is that I'm allowed to wear panties and you're not.

[click4rainy]

What it’s like dating the Keeper of Time//Liu Kang Boyfriend Head Canons

👽: I come with…head cannons :3 (not proof read)

⚠️:smutty

Sfw 👉🏼👈🏼

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷

★ Liu Kang. The God of Fire, Keeper of Time. And your golden retriever boyfriend.

★ He is a very patient, kind and considerate man. He worships you in every way possible.

★ Doesn’t escalate things or give the silent treatment. He’d much rather talk it out and fix the issue

★ A very busy man, considering his occupation. But that never deters him from bonding with you.

★ He may have to leave you alone occasionally, and he feels awful about it every time. Almost as if he’s neglecting you.

★ But he always makes up for it. “I apologize for not being home sooner, my love.” “I hope I did not keep you waiting too long…”

★ The classic Liu Kang move is to massage you into relaxation, laying you down and telling you sweet little nothings.

★ “I am so grateful for waking up every morning, with you by my side.” “My pretty girl.” “You’re my everything, the center of my universe”

★ Peppering your face with kisses, nuzzling your neck and kneading out any tension you’re feeling while the two of you simply talk and enjoy each others company.

★ He definitely likes to play with your hair, or adjust your glasses if you wear them. Holding you and just genuinely admiring you.

★ Mindlessly doing acts of service for you because that’s his love language.

★ Liu Kang will make you breakfast, lunch and dinner. Coffee, tea, whatever snacks you like he’ll make or get. Insists on doing the chores, watering your plants, whatever you need he wants to be the one to lift it off your shoulders.

★ Surprising you with homemade dinner, remembers tiny details about your day, always bringing things up that make you feel seen

★ He loves you, and he cares deeply for you. Always making sure you’re safe—but respects your independence and trusts you wholeheartedly. Protective but not possessive.

★ An honest man, who expresses how he feels and values listening to you. Making sure you both feel understood in the relationship

★ Supportive of your goals. Not only does he believe in you, but he’s going to help you make those dreams come true any way he can.

★ Always feels at home with you, his warmth, his loyalty and genuine kindness make you feel loved and of course, comfortable. He’s your safe space in many ways.

★ Genuinely happy to hear about your interests. Even if he doesn’t know much about them, he’ll ask questions and just adores listening to you yap about whatever makes you happy

★ Liu Kang is empathetic and understanding. He can sense when you’re stressed out, and always listens without judgement. Supporting you through whatever you’re going through.

★ He finds your quirks and unique habits endearing. Like how you need extra pillows but still end up using him as your only one.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷

NSFW 🫠

★ Bro is an absolute munch.

★ Will eat you out until you’re a quivering, mewling, pathetic mess. and then some.

★ And then some because he’s also really into over stimulation.

★ Talking about nuzzling his nose onto your clit, pistoning his digits in and out of you while working your dripping cunt with his tongue. Long after you’ve already came.

★ Groaning softly as he trails kisses along your hips up to your ribs. Hovering above you as he strokes your slick folds. His free hand gently coming up to cup your tit, squeezing gently as you continue to tremble in his arms.

★ “There you go...that's it." “That’s right, you’re doing so good~” “Just like that, love.” “You can handle a little more, can’t you?” “Such a good little slut~” He’ll purr, his glowing eyes never leaving your face as it contorts in pleasure.

★ Pulling his fingers out of you with a soft pop, his mouth curling into a smirk as he watches you shudder in pleasure. Relishing in the aftermath of your orgasm.

★ He’s a soft dom, quick to praise, slow to punish. But that doesn’t mean he’s afraid to put you in your place, so don’t mistake his patience for anything but.

★ “On your knees for me, now.” He’ll point down, knowing you won’t argue. And if you do, he’ll simply collar you and tug at your leash until you listen like the good slut you are.

★ Yeah…he’ll probably collar you regardless. He likes treating you as his pet.

★ Prefers giving rewards over punishments.

★ if you’re being good for him, expect an intimate massage, kneading out all the tension in your entire body. Making you putty in his strong hands.

★ He’ll have his face be your personal throne.

★ Allow you to touch yourself, and depending on how good you are, you can use your favorite toy.

★ Right, okay okay. But let’s say you’re being a brat. An absolute menace. Like intentionally…because you feel like it.

★ Rolling your eyes, huffing and puffing or even invading his space when he’s obviously focused. That will catch him off guard but not irk him.

★ Interrupting him, pretending you don’t understand certain boundaries, trying to embarrass him…now we’re asking for actual punishment.

★ “I’ll hush that disrespectful mouth of yours.” He’ll hiss. Gripping your face with one hand before shoving you down to your knees.

★ “Go on, put your tongue to better use than trying to provoke me.”

★ Liu Kang will tie you up to the bed and leave you there without his company as a punishment. For real for real.

★ self pleasure is absolutely revoked for bad girls.

★ If you’ve managed to piss him off in a rather public setting, he’ll call you degrading nicknames (slut, whore, pet) in said setting. In front of others with the utmost nonchalance too.

★ You wanna make him look bad in front of others? He’ll simply make you apologize on your knees right then and there if you’re going all out. Having you beg for forgiveness. (Literally)

★ After care/pampering comes very natural to Liu Kang. Spooning you while rubbing your back, telling you how good you were/are.

★ Liu Kang likes to light incense or candles to freshen the air while he fluffs the blankets and pillows for you. Grabbing you water and a small snack if needed.

[dumbbwh0re]

[secretalphaghost]

Make her cum with your tongue. Put her to sleep with your dick.