, , . Al Haitham X F!reader. Sfw. Reader Is In A Skirt Some Playful Bicker Some Kisses Some Naughty

ᕱ⑅ᕱ ۪ ۫ 〜 ꒰ 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝓁𝓊𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒷𝓎, 𝒻𝓁𝓎, 𝒻𝓁𝓎. al haitham x f!reader. sfw. reader is in a skirt ﾉ some playful bicker ◞ some kisses ◞ some naughty touches ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა ﾉ jus fluffy stuffs ꒰ྀི 1.2k wc

you’re taller than al haitham as children— all dangly, clumsy fawn legs where he’s only a baby sapling that’s just begun to sprout from the soil.

even with his fluffy mop of slate hair, the tippy top of his head reaches under your chin, and it takes two of his strides to match one of your own.

perhaps it’s rude and not at all like you or your mother had taught you, but it’s so much fun teasing him about it— the ‘know-it-all’ little brat of a schoolmate who you consistently place second to, who won’t play with you at lunch break and sighs in boredom as often as he breathes and so evidently does not belong in a classroom of children his age.

it’s so much fun watching him struggle to reach for a book on the fourth shelf, one that you pick out with ease (but certainly cannot read with ease), hand to him with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, ruffle his hair and seemingly disregard him with a giggle, a lax wave of your hand.

"looks like you're too short to reach that shelf, haithie. i guess it just can’t be helped!”

neither the book he’s been wanting to read for weeks nor the strap of his suspender sliding off his shoulder have his attention now that you’ve stolen all of it for yourself. 

his head tilts curiously and he looks on in a bit of a stunned daze as you skip off to the section of the library that houses picture books and fairytales, two pigtails swaying side to side and the heels of your loafers scuffing along the carpet and he thinks you’re akin to a butterfly— or flutterby, as you like to call them— prancing about in that carefree way you tend to do.

haithie.

what a peculiar feeling the nickname brings him— a certain eagerness, childlike joy bubbling in his tummy and giving rise to something that he can’t seem to place a name to.

(no one’s ever called him by a nickname before. it’s… nice. just nice, and nothing else. yes, that’s correct… nothing else.

…

his face warms at the realization.)

and then he hears you squeal, watches you trip and tumble to the ground, scrape your palms and sit there pathetically on your knees with your shoulders slumped over.

what a clumsy little flutterby you are.

tiny hiccups are peeled from your throat and you begin to cry softly, and al haitham worries. his feet move on their own when he walks toward you, digging in his knapsack for the last bandage he has left. 

“take this.” the boy who you think dislikes you speaks to you for the first time, so you look up at him for the first time, lips wobbly and lashes sticky and cheeks glistening.

his face, however, is unchanging; he is as straight-lipped as you’d expect him to be, brows set in concentration and eyes sharp, piercing.

(but if you look closely, you’d see how the edges are clouded in concern, blunted down and soft and tender and caring— all the things you’d expect him not to be.)

“you really ought to be more careful,” he leans down to your level, wags the bandage in front of your face, “how will you be able to take notes in class if you hurt your hands?”

“you… you…” 

his words present themselves to you as a challenge and it makes you seethe, furrow your brows, scrunch up your nose, frown. 

al haitham swears there must be fumes coming out of your ears. 

“you’ll get wrinkles if you keep pouting like that.”

“don’t pater— pat— hmph! don’t patronize me!” you yap the too-difficult word awkwardly, snatch the bandage from his hand and run off, cheeks swollen like freshly puffed corn, either from the pain stinging at your palms or in embarrassment at having made a fool of yourself in front of your very first, very real, perhaps unrequited, and only love.

two decades later and you're standing uncomfortably with one knee up on the kitchen counter, tippy toes barely brushing the tile floor as you aimlessly reach for the spice tin sitting at the top of the pantry.

you grapple at air, slide your hand over to the left of the shelf, and to the right, and to the left again, and then you think you finally have it when you feel cool metal graze over your fingertips. stretching, wiggling your fingers as far as you can, you hook a nail under the side clasp and drag it to the ledge of the shelf; you have it, until—

“ow!” your hand flys down to the top of your thigh where your skirt has ridden up in your position that has you rather exposed, to where two lithe fingers much larger than your own surprise you with a pinch, and then a cheeky squeeze of your rear.

“need help with that?” before you can register it, your husband reaches up with ease to take the spice tin in his own hand, shaking it in front of your face almost tantalizingly. 

you frown.

(but then you catch sight of the flex of his bicep as he brings it to your level, the veins lining his forearms, his fingers drumming playfully over the tin. and your frown lessens.)

“haithie, i almost had it!” you lower yourself to the ground and whine, craning your neck up towards al haitham. it’s merely a second after that he raises the spice tin high in the air with a pompous smirk on his face that only serves to make him even more handsome, higher up than the top shelf of the pantry and certainly too high for you to reach.

his grin widens when you bounce on the balls of your feet, grip at his shirt and use it for leverage as you try so, so hard to take the tin from him. to no avail, of course.

you furrow your brows and puff out your cheek, look up at him as if you were about to throw a tantrum and then he’s brought back 20 years to his school library, akademiya-prep physics textbook in his hands and you splayed on the floor in front of him with your pigtails and scraped palms and blubbery cheeks and sullen little flutterby wings.

“you’re such a meanie.”

"and you're too short to reach that shelf, darling,” he muses, eyes swimming with hazy mirth as he finally holds out the spice tin for you to grab, watches on with a tender smile as you hug it to your chest and release a dissatisfied little hmph!

you’re older now, shorter than him now— your lips are fuller and your cheeks are dimpled with smile lines, but your childish peevishness has remained. perhaps it’s one of the things that endears him most to you.

and then he’s placating you the way he knows best, running his knuckles adoringly along the lift of your cheekbone because you’re just so cute when you get all pouty and petulant like this, because you melt under his touch like cream in the sun, because your pout softens and before you realize it you’re biting on your lip to hold back a giggle.

oh, how quickly he’s able to soothe your heart like this. his little flutterby.

"i guess it just can’t be helped.”

𐂯 ‧₊˚ thanku for reading i hope u luv teasing hubbie haithie as much as i doooo :3 🌈🍀💝☮️ ! ! consider reblogging or leaving a comment if u enjoyed ෆ

compilation of baby muichiro / baby hashira doodles from the last couple of weeks !! original post

precis – genshin men talking in their native language in bed. 16+ gentlemen – neuvillette (french), tartaglia (russian), diluc (german), al haitham (arabic) remonstrance – obv smut, 16+ , fingering, degrading in arabic (😃👍), i've linked the translations just click on em.

NEUVILLETTE x french.

"je t'aime mon amour." his hands find yours on the wrinkled sheets, fingers interlocked clinched as he plunged his hips against yours, his girth dragging over your velvety folds. slow and sensual were the two words you could use to describe how he made you feel right now. who knew the ludex of fontaine was so amorous?

"ne te cache pas de moi, ma belle sirène." he mumbled in a low growl, brushing away stray strands of hair present on your forehead while undulating his ambit into your glory. the only support you had were his ample muscles, which you held on to with every thrust.

every frown, every blissful sigh and every moan of his name a precious token of memory he cherishes. soft pants fall from his lips as he compels your legs to your chest in order to bury his length deeper. dithers and butterflies rafted in your stomach indicating your climax. your nails drew crescents into his toned back, engraving signs of pleasure into his back.

"je t'ai-t'aime." he groaned, broiling breath fanned over your lips, foreheads pressed against yours as he rolls his hips over your one last time before planting his seed deep inside your womb, unleashing a swarm of butterflies to uncoil the ribbon in your stomach. (oui oui baguette)

flopping down onto your chest, exhausted from your previous activities, his pristine hair covers most of your figure, his eyes array love, just love. soft kisses rain down on your neck, adorning many of the purple bruises he had marked before. his callused hands bedecked your waist, barely applying force as if you were made of glass. his girth was still buried into your heat, as if he didn't want to withdraw from the sedative serotonin.

"i love you too.."

TARTAGLIA x russian.

his arms slithered around your waist, his bistre hair splattered all around your shoulder as he latches onto your waist for support, his fingers dig up your ass, sculpting demilune shapes into the soft plush. he buckled his foot to grant him more leverage. your body weight was all amended to the male beneath you.

his soft groans vibrated in the stifling atmosphere, bobbing up and down on his stupefying dick. "ty menya tak khorosho prinimayesh, hm?" he breathed into your shoulder, his indurate hands restlessly tracing over your curves, bathing in the luxury of having you so close to him. your breasts quavering in front of him, a slinky smirk absconded over his face at seeing your zest plight.

your moans gradually started getting obstreperous, interminably quivering on his bulk. his hands pinned your ass, to the point it almost drew out blood, your whimpers and whine were like music to his ears. gosh, you made him feel so lascivious. his grip grew tighter, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as he murmured words of syrupy desire. his touch was like a fire, and you found yourself not wanting it to end.

"blyat' ty idealna." he groused, his voice raspy and bare. his cobalt eyes gulled lust and fire, you never ceased trotting on his cock with abandon, your head thrown back in sheer pleasure, your body shaking with every thrust. his hands were on your hips, guiding your movements, and you could feel every inch of him inside you. you let out soft happy grumbles of frustration, not knowing what he meant but you were assured it meant nothing other than love. archons- every hit to your nerves felt like celestia.

a bluffing beam pressed into his ephebic face as his cock obscured deeper into your warmth. your lamentations and sobs made him even more accelerated his appetite to taste you. what felt like clustered pieces of wires were coming out of you, your eyes gaped as you held onto his toned muscles, occasionally gasping and whining. he threw his head back revelry, his load whirled inside your womb as you let out a silent cry in the release of awaited feelings.

"moya krasivaya devochka" he chuckled as he adaged your rollercoaster of emotions, gentling brushing his hands through your hair, the sly smirk still remained pictured on his lips.

DILUC x german.

"ich liebe dich" he spituated, his arms grasped your shoulders ever so softly, beads of sweat dropped down from his sweltering face. a weary smile was forced upon his face, occasionally fading due to how well you sucked him in. your hands run over your body from over your belly to your waist to your mounds grabbing them as he slows down the pace of his girth.

you moan out as he starts rutting into you at a fast pace. the carmine haired male groans, tightly holding your hips for leverage and fucking his cock in and out of you. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder. heat resides every corner of his body. he closes his eyes as he proceeds with his adoring actions.

"don't stop luc', don't stop" you whine, harshly tugging his hair while syncing with his body movements. a soft, hushed hum resonated from him. kisses ran down from your neck to your back. his incandescent hair ran down your chest, concealing it. fuck— you were so perfect. archons, everything about you was perfect.

the bed creaked along with his every action, his actions only bought pleasure- no pain whatsoever, your breaths and moans got faster and more louder. his girth hitting your g-spot more faster, the slapping of his balls against your warmth got faster and more searing before he finally releases his seed inside of you, as well as you cumming on his girth.

"i-ich liebe- dich" he scours, his arms still vested on top of your waist, all while his length is snuggled inside of your warmth. he sagged onto your chest, your heartbeat undulating against his own.

AL HAITHAM x arabic.

nirvana. the only word that you can use to describe how the akademiya's scribe made you feel right now. his fingers edged into your tepidity, ever so often toting more vastly. his digits were coated with your dowse, driblets of sweat coalesced on your forehead, though, the viridescent eyed male had no emotion, only pure amusement and lust in his orbs.

"waqihat qadhirat." he spat, his eyes darkening as he watched your contorting face, drool splattered all over your face, he stroked your clit with his thumb, impending his face closer to your warmth before proffering a prolonged lick to your folds, his soaked, acute tongue almost immediately earned a squalid moan from you, your eyes solidly sealed.

"haitham' more, please m-" a finger forcefully shoved down your mouth kept you silent."madha? turid almazida?" he nudged, a jiving grin swept across his face before diving into your toothsome. gosh, his tongue did wonders. his eyes averted to yours, breathing in your gaped expression, relishing in your fucked out face. his other callused hand held your waist steady, gripping it harshly to the point that his finger imprints were reflected onto your smooth flesh. pink and black scribbles clouded your eyes, fuck— you wanted more, way more, and he knew that damn well.

"ma bik habibi, turid almazida?" he inquired teasingly after taking a deepend lick of your delicacy, your grumbles and lewd mewls were like harmonic tunes. his sunken eyes glaring at your pitiful condition, a breathful chuckle escaped from his chapped lips. his tongue once more delved into your hole, in result of you gripping his pristine hair harshly, moaning and gasping at the assidissous revelry.

your heart fluttered in joyful anticipation, as you felt the knots untangle, your face betrayed a beaming smile occasionally faltering as he kept scouring your pussy inside out. the knurls and lumps soon came undone, squirting out your juices and sap onto his tongue, greedily licking it up. his lissom fingers still remained deep inside your delicacy.

I dunno if you do prompt requests but I’d like to request this one with our boi wrio ^^

“It’s s-so big! Uh, I don’t think it’ll fit.”

“Hmm… will you let me be the judge of that, baby?”

(consent is hot as hell 😩😩, it’s a whole “shall i? or maybe i won’t? it’s your call, baby?” kind of thing. people take notes ehe /hj)

I do! I will warn you that I have never done it before so it might not be great but i'll try my best for you anon🥺❤️

~ warnings: smut, possibly ooc wriothesley

You're sitting on his lap, an arm around your waist while his other hand is busy holding the papers he's reading. You're busy reading a book as his mind wanders, distracted by how nice your ass feels on his lap. An idea pops up in his head.

The arm that's wrapped around your shoulder loosens and moves so his hand is resting on your thigh. He slowly rubs it up and down your thigh. He notices that it doesn't gain your attention. You continue to be too engrossed in your book, not giving him the attention he wants.

He takes it one step further, sliding his hand up the inside of your thighs, getting close to your panties. It grabs your attention away from your book. You subtly glance back at him, he pretends to read his paper, satisfied in his mind that he's finally gotten your attention.

But you see right through his tricks. You know he's not really reading his paper and he's teasing you on purpose. You try to beat him as his own game. You shift in his lap, pretending that you're just getting more comfortable. As you shift, you make sure to rub a bit against his cock. You feel him tense a bit, smiling to yourself.

He catches on. He moves his hand to rub you through your panties. You bite your lip to hold in your moan. You continue to try and read your book, acting like he's not affecting you.

But he can see right through you. Through the wetness in your panties where he's rubbing you. He presses his fingers a bit more firmly against you, but you hold back your reactions, which he isn't satisfied with. He wants to hear your moans. He wants to hear you beg for more, to give him all your attention instead of the book.

He slips his fingers under your panties, making direct contact, adding more pleasure to your sweet spot. Your legs twitch, closing around his hand. A small smile graces his features.

Soon, he inserts one finger into you, the sudden intrusion making you gasp. He feels your tightness around his finger. He goes slow at first, then quickens his pace once he knows you can take it. He then adds another finger, continuing at a fast pace, helping to prepare you for his thick cock.

You moan, getting close to your first orgasm, until suddenly, he stops and removes his fingers. You whine, disappointed.

He kisses the crown of your head. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you cum on my cock multiple times."

You blush. He motions for you to get up so he can take off your panties and release his hard cock from its confines. You sit back on his lap as he holds your hips.

"Ready for my cock?" You nervously gulp, intimidated by the size of his beautiful, veiny cock.

"It's s-so big! Uh, I don't think it'll fit."

"Hmm... will you let me be the judge of that, baby?"

You nod your head. He slowly inserts his cock head into you. A tight squeeze causing him to hold his breath. You slowly lower yourself on his cock, trying not to tense up too much. He notices and stops. He leans close to your ear and wraps his arms around your waist.

"It's okay. Let's go slowly. Relax. Don't push yourself." He whispers as he places sweet kisses behind your ear, on your ear, and on your neck. You begin to relax and give him the go ahead by continuing to lower yourself on his cock.

He finally fully sheaths himself inside of you, you both slightly moan from the euphoria feeling. The warmth from your walls hugging his cock making it hard to hold back, but he does for your sake. He doesn't want to scare you or make you uncomfortable. After a few moments, you begin to move, surprising him for a sec by your forwardness.

He regains his composure and grabs your hips, helping to guide you up and down his cock. The slaps from your thighs hitting his fill the room. You moan as you bounce on his cock, his cock hitting all your sweet spots. His cock veins rubbing against your walls, adding to the pleasure.

"Fuck. You feel so good. You make me want to lose control and pound into you until you scream from the pleasure." He groans in your neck.

"D-don't hold back Wrio. I wa-want it. Fuck me please." You'll soon regret those words.

He growls as he wraps his arms around your waist, making both of you stand as he begins to pound into you. Your moans become louder. You unconsciously look for something to hold onto, accidentally clawing his arms with your nails. He gasps from the slight pain, only turning him on more.

You feel the familiar warmth in your belly. Begs leave your mouth, telling him to not stop, encouraging him to continue as you get closer. He indulges you in your wishes, quickening his pace to give you a mind-breaking orgasm.

When you finally orgasm, it crashes into you like a wave. Your head falls back as you scream from the overwhelming pleasure. You have no time to recover from your orgasm as he continues his unrelenting pace.

He pants against your ear like a dog in heat. "Gonna come again, yeah? Fuck, I'm close too. Let's come together." He shifts your position, bending you over his desk. He holds your hips, watching your ass jiggle as his pelvis slaps against it. The slaps being slightly painful but pleasurable. You tighten around him causing more curses to leave his mouth.

He repeatedly tells you to cum as you're both finally sent over the edge, cumming together. You feel his warm cum fill you up as you shake and twitch from another mind-breaking orgasm. He gives a few more thrusts to ensure his cum gets deep into you until he stills his movements completely.

You both pant heavily, trying to calm down from your passionate session. He finally comes to his senses, leaning over you to pepper kisses on your neck and cheek. After he finally sees that you've relaxed, he picks you up and takes you to the couch in his office. He lays down with you on top of him. You listen to his heartbeat as he rubs your back and holds you tightly to him. He kisses your head aa you fall asleep.

~ a/n: I hope you enjoy anon~ c:

Bless u for papa neuvi 😩👌

now im brainrotting about the melusines that absolutely treats neuvi’s son like their own little brother and helps the reader takes care of him whenever his papa’s too busy with a trial 😩😩😩

౨ৎ ⋆˚ where the heart is ft. neuvilette. reader is referred to as ‘wife’. fluff — or at least an attempt was made ;; ++ here’s another one of papa!neuvillette <33 enjoy !! this is not proofread.

—

having a kid results in a lot of different things. one of which is a perpetually chaotic house right at the crack of a glorious morning. it’s particularly in disarray during weekdays and whenever court necessitates neuvillette’s absence from home.

“i’m sorry to leave you alone this early, darling. but i must, so i can be home before the sun goes down.” neuvillette kisses the top of your head while carrying your little boy in his arms.

“you needn’t worry; this little guy and i can manage. right, sweet boy?” with a smile, you poke at your son’s chubby cheek, earning a soft giggle from his precious lips. “you’ll help mama clean up, won’t you?” he merrily claps his hand in response. “see? that’s our boy.”

“it seems like we have a gentleman in our midst,” neuvillette comments, soft delight evident in his eyes. “take care of mama for me, alright?”

and it’s majestic: the scene before you. neuvillette has struggled a long time to morph emotions that can suffice his heart’s content. looking at him now standing against the sun, its rays forming a halo around his and your son’s bodies while the latter sizes up his tiny hand with his father’s huge one, sudden warmth caresses your chest.

you clasp both their hands tightly with your own, tip-toeing to bestow neuvillette an airy kiss on the lips. “take care, my love,” you murmur.

the unforeseen affection blows open neuvillette’s eyes, casting a hue of glowing red on his cheeks. you’ve been married for years already, and yet his world keep tilting upside down whenever your lips collide. as though the eruption of his world seems not to bother him, he leans in for another kiss— fervid with passion this time.

neuvillette brushes your forehead with his lips as a final seal to the magic you shared. you close your eyes, drinking in his scent, before responsibilities stow him away and buries him neckdeep in work.

“come on, darling.” the little boy lifts his arms reluctantly to you. under his curling brows, on the verge of tears, are twinkling eyes glued to his father.

the father takes his little chin, leaving the little one with a promise of returning home as soon as work permits. then, neuvillette tramps towards the door, only to see three melusines carrying their baskets, smiling from ear to ear.

“father!” they call in unison. sundry of greetings soon followed; each of them eager to wish neuvillette an agreeable and smooth journey ahead. “mother!” they beam, canting their heads to peek at you from the doorstep. it’s mamere, puca, and canotila.

neuvillette steps aside to let the children inside the house. they dash for the boy, faces gleaming with joy at beholding their sibling’s little frame.

“will you stay with mother while i’m gone?” neuvillette inquires, crouching to meet the melusines’ level.

three heads nod at once. neuvillette opens his arms, then, to embrace the three melusines. they murmur their goodbyes and promises that you and the baby will be alright. albeit flooded with the need to stay, which is exceedingly evident on neuvillette’s face, he departs for the court of fontaine. and thus, your day with the children begin.

“who wants to help mother bake?”

all three jump on their toes; puca and canotila have followed you to the kitchen, while mamere occupies herself by playing with your son.

not a day goes by that your house wouldn’t be flooded by the melusines. they contribute a great degree in making the air much vibrant with all their jovial disposition.

it’s a life you’ve been well-acquainted with ever since sealing the vow with neuvillette. the melusines are a part of you as much as their father is.

—

people used to name neuvillette as an immovable pillar; before the heaps of paper on his desk, he’s a man of patience and perseverance. he passes the opportunity of sleep without second thoughts if work demands his extended time in attending matters concerning the region.

however, he has acquired a strict sense of time after his marriage. once the clock finally signals his departure, it matters not whether papers keep piling on his desk, neuvillette will stand up and journey towards home.

he cannot help it; the tightness between his ribs and the ever-growing need to be with his family are too palpable to ignore. and it would seem as though a great part of him is being cut down the longer he’s away from home.

only the image of the house, with lights glowing from the inside, has been a salve to his rather impatient need to be in your arms.

“welcome home—”

he embraces you, then, cleaving the words you wish to speak. he embraces and sniffs at your hair, letting the heat of your body travel to his own, caressing the coldness away.

“i’ve missed you dearly, my love,” he murmurs, a little embarrassed, yet a whole lot fulfilled.

you giggle against his chest, the sound going straight to his heart where it marked yet another reason of why neuvillette loves you more than life itself.

“we’ve missed you, too. come into the house, darling. taste the cake we’ve made.”

“where are the children?” neuvillette asks, noticing the silence prevailing inside. normally, the melusines together with the little boy would be all around the house this time around; laughing and filling the corners with their merriment.

“oh, come! let me show you something.” you tug at your husband’s hand, exuding radiance that almost blinded him. “all of the children are currently in dreamland.”

you open the door to your room. upon the sight which greeted him, all the day’s worries and baggages shred off his skin. there, on the bed, the melusines are sleeping soundly. they’re formed in a cirle around his little boy, their chests heaving slowly. everything is peaceful.

“welcome home, my love,” you whisper once more, squeezing his hand and rubbing your cheek against his arm.

voice mixed with a sweet cadence, he answers, “i am home.”

౨ৎ ⋆˚ untamed ft. wrio & neuvilette !

+ afab!reader. mild spoilers i think? not proofread! just ignore the errors pls <3 character study in the form of shameless smut yes <3

💌 wrio: overstimming + creampie + he calls you angel + unprotected.

wriothesley, in his young age, seems to have accumulated all the good things befitting that of a gentleman. having the title of a duke and handling the affairs in the fortress of meriopedes as its lord being some of his outstanding qualities. he possesses a strict sense of character; responsible to boot, and unyielding in the face of any dilemma.

so you must trust him, really, when he says that he hasn’t foreseen this altered character— not at all. it’s not like him to free his inhibitions just to fuck you with utter abandon inside his office, grunting while hugging the back of your legs against his chest, your pretty pussy gaping at the sheer girth rammed inside your creamy hole. he wants to stop— to let you catch a sliver of rest but your cunt feels so good around his cock that it literally brings pain in his chest to put a halt on this pleasure. he cannot stop fucking you, cannot stop plugging your pussy with his flushed cocktip and ever-growing cock. globules of cum, heavy and hefty in amount, starts squirting out of his pulsing cocktip, yet through the sting and the ache that his ejalucation causes, his hips would not yield. one more, angel, i promise— he merely grunts the words, forehead bedewed in sweat, knowing damn well that even he cannot channel his so-called restraint when it comes to fucking you brainless on his office table. </3

💌 neuvilette: overstimming + creampie + undertones of mindbreak + unprotected + big cock.

if neuvilette has learned something from the recent days’ events beyond the straightforward and judicial air in fontaine, he grants the credit to humans and their ceaseless abilities to fascinate. however, whatever transpired recently have only bolstered his curiosity about mortals and their nature. in truth, you have been the one open his eyes to humanity’s boundless surprises and complexity.

he has been pumping his cock in and out of your fucked out pussy since the moon made its first appearance. your brain is soaked, like the bedsheets sticking to your glistening body. and yet your back remains arch so pretty for him, the rim of your cunt has already formed in the size of his girth, pulsing as if begging to be abused more. neuvilette owns a higher endurance than that of a human; he has fucked you in multiple positions, has plugged his sheer size, healthy veins and all, up your pretty pussy to the base, but his appetite still cannot be sated. perhaps his nature is to blame for such a rash display of character tonight, but truly, he does not have it in him to halt. sure, you’ve told him to slow down countless of times, and he has obliged despite the physical ache it has brought in his person, but he finds it enthralling how every time he drags his cock slowly in and out of your warm and wet and slabbering pussy, you cry and mewl and beg him to fuck you faster instead. this tips him to the edge. grabbing your flesh as leverage for his shredding control, he humps your ass with force that shakes the bed and brings tears to your eyes. right there and then, he fills you with cum which potency and thickness cannot be compared to any human— it’s unstoppable, from huge and plump balls to the cocktip that kisses your womb for giving him this mind-shattering release.