welcome to my fantasy world

Luigi is settled deep inside you, warmth and pressure keeping you grounded and dizzy all at once. The stillness between you is electric — every shift of your hips, every twitch of his thighs makes your breath hitch. Your back rests against his chest, the Switch controller held clumsily in your hands, thumbs twitching with half-hearted focus. His hands are making it worse — one lazily cups your breast, thumb brushing slow, teasing circles over your nipple, while the other occasionally slides down to your thighs, supposedly with absent mind, but you know every movement is on purpose.

“You’re doing great,” Luigi murmurs against your neck, his voice low and amused, fingers grazing the device in your hands as if he isn’t purposely trying to distract you. “Only fallen off the track twice this round.”

You bite the inside of your cheek in frustration. “Shut up.”

A few minutes later and Luigi hasn’t moved in a while, so the ache between your legs has almost settled into something manageable — until he suddenly thrusts up, hard, just once.

You gasp, your entire body jerking, causing your kart to slam into a banana peel on screen. “Luigi!”

He laughs against your neck, low and shameless. “What? Thought we were multitasking.”

“I fucking hate you.” You elbow him, but it’s weak. Useless. You’re already squeezing around him again, that slow burn flaring up all over.

“Yeah?” he coos, voice innocent to mock you. “Want me to pull out then?”

You roll your eyes and turn to face him, smacking his cheek lightly. “You’re pissing me off.”

He’s smirking at you now. “So that’s a yes, you want me to pull out?”

Your jaw clenches, unsure what you want at this point. The teasing is immensely frustrating, but there’s nothing you love more than being full of his cock after hours of sex.

“No,” you murmur, turning your face back to the screen. Your heart is pounding, mind fuzzy from how good it feels, from how good he feels. But you’re desperate to win this stupid game, if only to prove you’re not completely dumb on his cock.

“So what’s the problem, baby?” he whispers in your ear, pressing a few soft kisses to your cheek and jaw.

“Just stay still and stop distracting me.”

“Mhm.” He’s trying not to laugh, and when you feel a thumb brush over your nipple again you smack his arm, refusing to take your eyes off the screen.

A few moments go by, and he’s shifting slightly under you, hips grinding up again — not quite a thrust this time, more of a slow, deliberate drag that has your breath catching. The controller slips in your hands.

“Luigi, I swear to God—”

He cuts you off with a quiet groan, just to be annoying. “Fuck, you feel so good like this. So warm. So tight.” His voice dips low, rough in your ear, though if you turned to face him again you’d see his boyish smirk. “You gonna finish the race or finish on my cock first?”

You pick up the controller again, gripping it tight this time as your heart pounds, heat building quick and overwhelming. “I seriously hate you.”

Luigi just laughs, and pinches your nipple gently. “You don’t, baby.”

And of course you don’t. Especially not when he smacks your clit, quick and dirty, right as you’re attempting to make a sharp turn on Rainbow Road. Your kart flies off the edge as you choke out a scream.

He laughs low against your shoulder, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin. “You’re not very good at this game, bambina.”

“You have a biological advantage over me.”

Another thrust. “Hm?”

Your kart plummets off the edge of the track again. “Mmm, fuck, Luigi—” you moan, but you’re swatting blindly at his arm behind you.

Luigi chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “What, baby? Just getting myself comfortable. This pussy’s so warm and wet for me.”

He taps your clit twice and you choke out a gasp. He’s always like this. Teasing and possessive with you, even when you both should be relaxing. There probably shouldn’t be another round of sex after your fourth orgasm of the day.

“Gi, fuck, baby, stop it.” Your words are shaky, and you grip his wrist tight as you feel your wetness coat his length and trickle slightly onto his thighs.

“Pay attention to the screen, baby.” He kisses your neck softly, groping one of your breasts tight. He lets the soft tissue rest in his palm, and it would be comforting if it wasn’t for the slow drag of his thumb over your nipple.

You squirm slightly in his lap, the movement dragging a low groan from his throat that vibrates against your neck as he presses another slow kiss there.

You try to focus, but he continues whispering into your skin, hand still holding your breast. “Bellissima, you’re soaking my cock. You want me to move slowly?”

“You just wanna win this game,” you choke out to disguise the moan that would have otherwise escaped your lips.

One hand slides to your thighs to squeeze, while his other maintains a steady grip on the controller. “Shh, just ignore me.”

Another soft thrust — subtle this time, so slow — and your hands tense.

“Luigi, I’m serious,” you hiss, hips twitching in response.

“Baby, you’re soaking me. Want me to bend you over and fuck you through the next three laps? Or are your thighs still too sore?”

You bite down hard on your lip, trying not to let a whimper escape as Luigi’s cock pulses inside you, twitching with every shift of your weight. The way he speaks to you — so soft, low, full of smug affection — has your nerves crackling.

“Thighs too sore, yeah? Answer me, bambina.” His voice is dipped in honey, but laced with heat.

You shake your head slowly, almost defiantly. “I’m fine.”

He smiles wide against your skin, the cute stubble on his jaw scratching gently along your shoulder as he kisses the area — tender, reverent, in complete contrast to the way he suddenly rolls his hips upward, just once.

The movement steals the air from your lungs, and the controller slips from your fingers again onto the sheets with a plastic thud.

“Oh?” Luigi’s breath ghosts against your neck as he leans impossibly closer. “You didn’t wanna finish the race, baby?”

“You’re mean to me,” you say softly, leaning your head back onto his shoulder.

He hums, pleased with himself, both hands now shameless as he lets go of his own controller — one back on your breast, the other sliding down between your legs to meet your puffy clit. “Let’s forget the game, I prefer playing with you instead.”

You moan, a soft, choked sound, and reach back to clutch at his curls. He groans in response, shallowly thrusting up into you again. The wet sound of skin meeting skin is muffled under the constant hum of the game still looping in the background, like the soundtrack to your undoing.

“You feel this?” he whispers, letting his fingers trail where you’re connected, gathering slick and pressing just enough against your clit to make your thighs shake.

“Lu—”

“Just rest on my cock, beautiful. I know you’re full, baby — I know. You want another orgasm, hm? Four wasn’t enough?” His fingers work your clit, lazy and slow, rubbing gentle circles.

You’re beyond responding with words. He’s not even moving — just tiny, calculated motions in the shift of his hips, enough to keep you trembling in his lap, every nerve ending strung tight like a live wire. You can feel your body clenching around him, every subtle drag of his cock sending you closer to the edge.

Then, he stops his movements on your clit and drags his index and middle finger up to you. His digits are dripping, slick with your arousal, and you whine, grinding your hips slightly at how filthy this is.

“Put ‘em in your mouth. Taste what’s soaking my cock.”

He uses both fingers to push your mouth open, dragging them along your bottom lip before you eagerly start to suck. You’re moaning like a whore on the long digits as you taste your juices, and Luigi is gazing at you, pupils dilated.

“Pretty,” he murmurs, before pulling his fingers out of your mouth and reaching down again to meet your bundle of nerves.

With another smack to your clit, your hips twitch — you can’t help it. And he groans again, breath hot on your throat.

“Fuck. That’s it, baby girl. Just like that.”

You whimper — he knows you’re close, and it’s unfair how well he reads you. How he knows the exact combination of praise, teasing, and soft touches to pull you apart.

“You gonna come on my cock again, baby?” he breathes, voice thick now, rough and tight. “Fifth time today, hm? I’m hardly even moving but you’re that sensitive for me — yeah?”

“Fuck, Lu—” you whisper, but your voice breaks.

He smiles, and you can feel it on your neck. “You like warming my cock? Gets you dripping every time, hm?”

Another press to your clit. A long, slow roll of his hips.

A loud whine escapes your throat, and he holds you tightly as you tremble against him, chasing that familiar high again — thighs quaking, muscles clenched, nails digging into his forearm. His voice is in your ear, low and sweet.

“That’s it, bambina. That’s my girl — come on, drench my cock in your cum.”

Your fifth orgasm of the afternoon washes over you like fire — not a wave, but a full-body shudder that leaves you breathless, curling back into his chest as you gasp for air.

Luigi is so gentle, cradling your body against his, one hand stroking your thigh, the other pushing your hair from your face. He presses a kiss to your temple and leans back, letting you melt into him.

“So good for me. That’s it, give it to me.”

Your whole body trembles, melting boneless against Luigi’s chest, heart thudding erratically as the aftershocks of your orgasm pulse through you. Your cunt clenches weakly around him, still snug and sensitive, his cock nestled inside like it belongs there. And maybe it does — the way he holds you close, kisses your temple so sweetly, strokes the curve of your hip to soothe you through it. You almost believe you’ll get a break.

But then he shifts. Slowly. Carefully.

The movement makes your oversensitive walls flutter around him, and you jolt, whining softly as he pulls out — the wet drag of it loud and filthy in the quiet of the room, beneath the distant sound of Rainbow Road looping again.

Your head lolls back on his shoulder. “Gi…”

“I know,” he murmurs, kissing the spot beneath your ear. “But one more, baby. Just one more. I wanna see you come like this — bent over for me, hands still trying to play. You can do that for me, yeah?”

You nod faintly, already dazed, and he helps guide you forward with a gentleness that belies the heat simmering beneath his skin. Your knees press into the bed, thighs trembling as you lean forward, hands grabbing blindly for the controller again.

“My girl. So pretty,” he breathes, and then — smack.

Your breath catches as his hand lands hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you jolt forward, your elbows almost giving out.

“Luigi—” your voice breaks, high and thin.

“You’re okay, baby. Just relax for me,” he murmurs, rubbing the red bloom of his palmprint over your skin. Then he spreads your ass cheeks, and you can feel him watching — hungry, admiring, like you’re his favourite work of art. And you are.

He strokes himself once, twice, the head of his cock sliding through your slick folds, before he presses back in — slow at first, but the stretch hits hard this time, your body too sensitive, too raw. You choke on a gasp as he sinks into you again.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight,” he groans, hips flush against your ass. “Can’t believe you’re taking me like this. For the sixth time today.”

He waits a beat, letting you adjust, but when you shift forward to grab the controller, he starts moving, dragging back and thrusting in deep, enough to rock you forward again.

The kart veers off the track instantly.

“Fuck, I can’t—” you hiss, but the words melt into a moan when he reaches around, fingers slipping between your thighs again, finding your clit with maddening precision.

“Keep playing,” Luigi says, voice like smoke. “Let’s see if you can win like this.”

You try. You really do. But it’s impossible — his cock is pounding into you, thrusts sharp and heavy now, the slap of his hips against your ass growing louder, wetter. His fingers don’t let up either, drawing tight circles over your swollen clit as you tremble, your body so overstimulated it feels like your bones are buzzing.

“Fuck—fuck, I can’t—” Your voice is barely a whisper, head hanging, arms weak.

“Yes, you can. Come on, baby, one more for me,” he groans, his own voice cracking as he fucks you deeper. “You’re doing so good, my beautiful girl. Let me feel you fall apart again, yeah? Then we can go to sleep.”

Your hips push back against him helplessly, your hands fumbling over the controller, vision blurred as tears prick your lashes from sheer sensation. You’re completely soaked, and every movement makes your thighs tremble harder.

Then — another smack, his palm coming down hard again on your ass, the sharp crack making you cry out, your body jolting.

That’s what tips you.

You clench down on him, hard, back arching as you collapse onto your elbows, gasping his name like it’s the only word you’ve ever known.

“Luigi—fuck—fuck, I’m coming—”

Your sixth orgasm hits like a lightning bolt — quick, intense, shattering. You shake beneath him, cunt spasming around his cock, clit throbbing under his relentless touch.

Luigi groans low in his throat, like the sound is being ripped out of him, and he thrusts into you a few more times before burying himself deep and stilling, grinding his hips against your ass as he spills inside you. You feel it all — the warmth, the way his cock twitches deep in your soaked cunt, your combined release dripping out around him as he slumps over you, breathing heavy.

The controller slips from your fingers. You barely notice it.

Luigi kisses your shoulder again, then your spine, followed by the space between your shoulder blades.

“You okay, baby?” he asks softly, smoothing a hand over your hip.

You nod, still catching your breath, cheek pressed to the sheets. “Mmhmm.”

“You were perfect,” he murmurs, still inside you, holding you so close. “My baby girl.”

And even though the room smells like sex and the game is still playing in the background as a distant echo, there’s a stillness now. A soft hum of contentment. His body over yours, cocooning you in heat and care.

You smile faintly, dazed and floating. “Next time just fuck me. Don’t tease me like that.”