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classyrbf · 1 year ago

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aaaaa plzzz do nanami getting a boner when y/n is speaking to him and they end up fucking? (Established relationship)

<33

YOU TURN ME ON! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...nanami is so easily turned on when it comes to you, he can’t help but get hard at the slightest things

INFO...nanami x fem!reader, established relationship, reverse cowgirl, praise, spanking, creampie, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thanks for the request anon!

“So how was your day?” You asked your husband as he loosened his tie, a long sigh leaving his lips as he slipped his jacket off.

“The usual. I don’t wanna bore you,” he chuckled. He sat at the edge of the bed, removing his shoes and tossing them to the side. He could feel the bed dip behind him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. His eyes closed shut, embracing your warmth. “How was your day, darling?” He asked.

You hopped off of the bed in front of him, grabbing his shoes from the floor and placing them on the rack. “Well, I went to the mall today!” You smiled.

“Yeah? You buy anything?” He grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles while he stared at you in adoration. He couldn’t be more lucky to have you as his wife.

“Actually, I did. There was this cute dress that I wanted. You remember the one I showed you?” You asked. He nodded in response, a small smile creeping up on his face. “Well I found it in my size, and it was the last one. But, Ken, it’s so much prettier in person!” You said with excitement. Running over to the closet, you pulled the dress off the rack and held it up. “What do you think?”

“I think the color goes great with your skin. Makes it glow,” he explained. He could see the smile widen on your face. He loves when you get excited about the little things in life.

“Awe thank you, Ken,” you giggled, turning around to put the dress back on the rack. His eyes scanned over your figure, the shorts that exposed your legs, the tank top you wore making it obvious your nipples were hard. “Ken!” You shout.

“Huh?” He looks up at you, blinking away his confusion. He could feel his slacks slightly tighten as he shifted in his spot on the bed.

“I was talking about the new bed set I saw in the mall. Did you hear me?” You walked over to him, straddling his lap.

“I’m sorry, love, I didn’t. Please, tell me again.” His hands rest on your waist, gently caressing your skin as you began talking again. He stared at you as your mouth moved, going on and on about how you think it’ll match the room. “You should’ve gotten it,” he said.

“I know, but I wanted your opinion first!” You whine. “After all, you sleep here too.” You peck his lips. Nanami let out a small groan, pushing his hips back. “You okay?” You ask, looking at him with concern.

“Yeah, it’s just…um…” Nanami let out a breath, trying to hide the fact he got turned on just from you talking about your day and walking around the room. It was quite embarrassing. But with each passing second you were on his lap, he was getting harder. “Darling, I’m sorry, I’m hard.” He looked up at you.

“Oh…oh!” You laugh, hiding your face in his neck. “Ken, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you say.

“I know, but you didn’t even do anything sexual, I just don’t want to make it seem like I’m some kind of perv—”

“What’s wrong with a man being attracted to his wife?” You question, staring into his eyes.

“Sweetheart, please don’t look at me like that…fuck,” he whispers under his breath. Within seconds, you push Nanami onto the bed, catching him by surprise. Your hands are moving quick to undo his belt. “You don’t have to—”

“Shush, Ken,” you demand, pulling down his pants. His cock springs free, already dripping with precum. “How are you so hard already?” You giggle, feeling arousal pool in your panties.

“You turn me on, darling.” He props himself up on his elbows as you remove your clothing, kicking aside your shorts and panties. Your crawl onto the bed, faces inches apart before you plant your lips on his, tongues moving against one another, biting down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too, Ken.” You peck his lips once more before turning your back towards him, angling yourself above his cock. You lift your hips just so enough so you can slowly sink down, feeling the stretch. A small gasp leaves your lips, a groan escaping from your husband.

“Fuck you’re so warm and tight,” he breathes, his hands coming up to squeeze your ass while you bounce on his cock. He’s entranced at the way his dick completely disappears into your cunt, sucking him in without hesitation.

You start to pick up the pace, growing more comfortable as your hips move faster, your juices dripping down his shaft. “Ah! Yes!” You hold onto his legs for support, while he watches the way your ass ripples against his dick. “Shit!” You wince, throwing your head back.

“Atta girl. There you go, sweetheart.” He lands a slap on your ass, guiding it up and down his cock. “Oh fuck, you always you always make me feel so good,” he moans. Your pussy clenches around him as you continue to slam your hips against his.

You reach your hand down to rub your clit in circles, adding to the stimulation as his cock hit your g-spot over and over. Pleasure coursed through your body, aching badly for an orgasm. Whimpers and moans from you and Nanami filled your bedroom, along with the sound of skin on skin. “Ohhh, Ken!” You whined. “Shit, baby!” You panted.

“You’re doing so good for me. Look back at me, darling, I wanna see my pretty girl.” His brows furrowed slightly as you milked his cock, he could tell you were getting desperate to cum. “There’s my girl. Keep looking at me while you ride me.”

You bit your bottom lip, muffling some of your moans and whimpers, trying your best to keep the exact rhythm you had going. Nanami cursed under his breath, eyes darting back and forth between your face and your ass. He couldn’t get enough of you. The way his tip kissed you cervix and bumped your sweet spot each time made your head spin. The curve of his dick making you arch even more.

Thick fingers squeeze the plump flesh of your ass, stuttering hips still set on riding him. “Fuck…s-slow down, sweetheart—ah! You’re gonna make me cum.” He grabs at your hips, a weak attempt to slow down your movements, but you’re so set on fucking him, feeling every last inch of your husband. You don’t care how much of a mess you make, how loud you get. It turns you on knowing your husband gets so worked up about the little things. A groan leaves his lips, head falling back in bliss as you practically ride him to cloud nine, his orgasm approaching just as quickly as yours.

Your little pants and whimpers fill his ears, eyes set on your husband glossy eyes, so fixated on the way your pussy is suck him in. His abs tense up, hand squeezing down on your ass and pulling you flush against his pelvis as he cums inside of you. The sheer feeling alone sends your orgasm raking through your body, quivering. “Oh my god!” You gasp, eyes fluttering shut. You slowly lift your hips before bringing them back down, fucking his cum into you.

“Yes, yes, just like that, baby,” he coos, watching his cum ooze out of your sweet cunt. “Goddamn,” he sighs when you finally stop riding him. His dick twitches at the missed sensation of your gummy walls.

“If I knew just how easily I turn you on, I would’ve done this more often,” you tease, placing a wet kiss on his neck.

“Should’ve known already, pretty girl.” He playfully smacks your ass, earning a small laugh from you. “We’ll clean up in second, just give me a few.”

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4barbatos · 11 days ago

Text

✦ dragonsteps

cw. found family, soft angst, fluff, emotional vulnerability, past trauma, body adjustment issues (durin), established relationship (reader x wanderer)

an. aaaaa i really tried my best to make this lore accurate so sorry in advance if there are any mistakes TT i only read up on durin’s lore online since i wasn’t playing when simulanka came out :(( but i did my best !! also credits to @stoopycake for the idea — i love xia sm

you live in mondstadt — not in the city walls, but just far enough out that the breeze feels gentler and the birds aren’t afraid to nest near your windowsill.

the mornings smell like pine and the sky is always soft. sometimes you think the wind sings to you. sometimes you think it’s lonely.

it’s quiet here. still. normal. you like it that way.

wanderer doesn’t. not really. he complains every time he visits — about the wind, about the noise, about how your bed is too soft and your pillows are too fluffy and your kettle takes too long to boil. he scowls at the birds. calls the squirrels in your garden nosy little pests. grumbles about the dirt road, the lack of streetlamps, the way mondstadt’s air always smells like freedom.

but he still shows up. always unannounced. always frowning. always staying longer than he says he will.

he doesn’t knock. he doesn’t warn you. he doesn’t say goodbye when he leaves. you never ask him to stay. you never ask him to leave, either.

you’re not loud about being together. you don’t hold hands in public. you don’t say things like i love you or i missed you.

but he’ll let you fix his scarf when it slips. he lets you sit close when he’s pretending not to fall asleep. he lets you call him kuni, even though no one else is allowed to. and sometimes he looks at you like the whole world is loud except when you’re around.

it’s a quiet thing. gentle. real. you thought you were done with surprises.

and then albedo showed up.

you’re half-awake, halfway through tea, and not expecting a knock at your door — much less one from the chief alchemist of the knights of favonius, with a boy standing beside him who looks like he’s been stitched together from stardust and forgotten lore.

he’s got hot pink eyes, tousled purple hair, two huge black horns, and a pair of even larger wings trailing behind him like a shadow. barefoot. blinking. a little confused.

“this is durin,” albedo says, like this is normal. “i’ve granted him a human form. he’s still adjusting.” “…okay?” you say slowly, eyes flicking between the alchemist and the boy with wings too big for your hallway. “he remembers the wanderer. i thought he’d be most comfortable here for now.”

you glance over your shoulder, where kuni is sitting at your kitchen table, nursing tea he insists he doesn’t like. he stares back at you with a silent, horrified expression. his cup is halfway to his mouth. it never makes it there. “no,” he says immediately. “don’t even think about it.”

“he called you hat guy,” albedo adds helpfully. “he likes you.” durin beams. “hat guy!!”

wanderer looks like he’s just been sentenced to death.

you’re in the grass behind your cottage. it’s warm. the sun’s high and mondstadt’s breeze rolls gently through the trees, rustling the tall grass, brushing against your skin like a sigh.

durin is trying to walk. emphasis on trying.

he’s all limbs and feathers and flailing wings, wobbling with every step like a newborn deer. “nope—wrong foot—careful!” you lunge forward just in time to stop him from faceplanting into a patch of dandelions. his wings flap once, awkwardly, and throw him off balance again.

“this body’s weird,” he grumbles, flopping into your arms like a very large, very annoyed toddler. “i used to fly.” “you also used to be made of blocks,” kuni says flatly from a few feet away, leaning against the fence with his arms crossed and a distinct i told you this was a terrible idea look on his face. “get over it.”

durin pouts. “you’re mean.” “you’re uncoordinated.” “you’re rude.” “you’re loud.” “you’re wearing too many layers.”

wanderer’s eye twitches. “i swear to—” “okay, okay,” you cut in, holding up your hands before the dragon child and your semi-boyfriend start trading elemental attacks. “let’s focus, yeah? deep breath, durin.”

he mimics you — badly. but his chest rises and falls, and that’s enough.

“left foot,” you say gently. “good. now the other one. you’ve got this.” he stumbles, wobbles, wings twitching nervously behind him — but stays upright.

his eyes light up, glowing like a sky full of comets. “look!! hat guy!! i did it!!”

wanderer grimaces like the name physically hurts him. “stop calling me that.” “but you have a hat,” durin says, very seriously. “so does half the population of mondstadt.” “but you are the hat guy. it’s different.”

wanderer mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like i’m going back to sumeru.

you smile. “no you’re not.” he doesn’t argue.

and the breeze is still gentle. and the birds still sing. and for now — just for now — the world is quiet.

the storm rolls in around midnight. soft at first. like a lullaby.

the kind of lullaby that hums through the hills, brushing gently against the trees, coaxing flowers into sleep.

then louder.

wind thrashes the branches against your cottage walls like angry fingers. thunder cracks the sky open from end to end, sudden and sharp, a divine warning. rain batters your windows in relentless, uneven patterns — too erratic to be music. too alive to be background noise.

you stir beneath your blankets. the warmth of sleep still clings to your skin like steam. for a moment you think you’re dreaming — until a weight thuds against the floorboards and the softest yelp breaks through the thunder.

you sit up with a jolt.

“...durin?” your voice is rough, half-dream. there’s a shape on the floor. soggy. awkward. unmoving.

“the sky’s mad at me,” comes the muffled reply.

your eyes adjust slowly. the moon is buried behind clouds, but the occasional flicker of lightning through the window gives you pieces — wings soaked and dragging, the tips curled in like wilted petals. horns bumped askew from colliding with your doorframe. a trembling form hunched over like it’s trying to disappear into itself.

he’s wet. and cold. and afraid.

“i… i didn’t mean to make it rain,” durin says quickly, his voice rising in panic. “i didn’t do anything. i swear i didn’t! i didn’t break anything or yell or fly or—”

“durin,” you say, gentle but firm. “storms are normal.”

his eyes glow faintly in the dark. confused. uncertain. “really?” he breathes. you nod. “really. mondstadt gets a lot of them. especially in spring. it’s just… how things are.”

he glances at the window like it might suddenly turn and glare at him. “…it’s loud,” he says. “i know.” “it wasn’t like this in simulanka. the storms there were quiet. but not in a good way.” you don’t ask.

“do you want to sleep here tonight?” you offer. he doesn't even pause. “yes please.”

you leave your room together. he follows you like a shadow made of feathers and guilt. the floor creaks beneath both your steps. you set up the couch. give him every blanket you can find. even the ugly one from albedo’s failed attempt at knitting.

durin doesn’t complain. he just piles them around himself until he’s almost entirely hidden. only his horns and a few strands of messy hair peek out.

you settle onto the couch nearby, your arm draped lazily over the edge, fingers brushing the fringe of his blanket.

there’s silence for a long while, save for the occasional rumble of thunder and the soft, erratic beat of the rain.

then: “…does the sky hate me too?”

you open your eyes slowly. look down. he’s curled tighter now, one wing tucked beneath his chin like a pillow, the other twitching with every crack of thunder.

your heart clenches.

you reach down. ruffle his hair gently. “no, durin. the sky doesn’t hate you.”

he nods once. small. unsure. but he doesn’t argue. he doesn’t cry either. he just lies there. wide-eyed. listening.

he doesn’t sleep until long after you do.

kuni finds you both like that the next morning.

you, slumped half-off the couch with your hand still hanging down — fingers barely brushing durin’s hair. durin, curled into himself in a pit of warmth and safety, his wing twitching slightly every now and then. not from fear. just dreaming.

kuni doesn’t speak. doesn’t frown.

he just sighs quietly. walks past you. comes back a minute later with an extra pillow. he slides it beneath your back without a word, tucks the blanket closer around your shoulders, and walks away again.

later, he sits beside you on the porch. the sky is still pale and grey, like it’s not quite sure whether it’s done grieving. the rain has stopped, but the wind is soft and damp, leaving the air full of silence and the smell of wet pine.

“he was scared of a thunderstorm,” kuni mutters, staring out at the field. you sip your tea. “he’s still adjusting. albedo said his emotions might be unstable until his body fully settles.” “he’s not even a week old,” kuni scoffs. “technically he’s centuries old,” you remind him.

kuni huffs. durin is in the garden again. crouched in the tall grass. having what appears to be a one-sided conversation with a squirrel who is either very brave or very stupid.

“do you remember what he was like in simulanka?” you ask.

kuni shifts beside you. “…yeah. a lot bigger. a lot louder.” “he just wanted friends.” “he nearly crushed five people trying to hug them.” “he’s better now.” “he’s different.” kuni pauses. then softer, “but he’s still loud.”

you look out at durin. now waving goodbye to the squirrel. “…he’s trying.”

kuni doesn’t say anything. but when you pass him a cup of warm tea, he doesn’t roll his eyes or call it too sweet. he just drinks.

you hear the crash from the kitchen.

“i was reading!” durin insists. “it’s not my fault your shelves are too narrow and my wings are too graceful!”

“graceful?” kuni repeats flatly, standing over the wreckage. durin puffs up. “yes. like a majestic storm-bird.” “you knocked over an entire shelf.” “a majestic shelf.”

you kneel beside him. pages scattered everywhere. diagrams torn open like secrets spilling out. albedo’s personal collection of handwritten notes on the internal structure of abyssal anomalies is now confetti on your rug.

“sorry,” durin says again, softer this time. “i didn’t mean—i just thought… if i knew more about my body, maybe i’d understand why i feel so weird in it.”

you look at him. at his oversized limbs. his unsure hands. the feathers he keeps pulling from his sleeves like they don’t belong there.

he’s trying to hold himself smaller. like if he curls in enough, he won’t knock anything else over.

“…i know i scared people in simulanka,” he mumbles. “and mondstadt too.” you don’t interrupt. he fiddles with a loose feather.

“albedo says i’m not dangerous anymore. but i still feel big. even when i’m small. like… something might break if i move wrong. or laugh too hard. or exist too loudly.”

he hugs his knees. “what if they were right? what if i am a monster?”

you don’t get a chance to respond.

a shadow falls over you both.

kuni.

he’s standing in the doorway. scarf half-on, expression unreadable, eyes dark and narrowed in that way that always means he’s listening even if he doesn’t want to be.

“…you’re not,” kuni says quietly. durin jerks his head up, startled.

“you’re annoying,” kuni says, stepping closer. “and clumsy. and loud. and kind of stupid.” durin frowns. “is that a compliment?” “take it or leave it.” “…i’ll take it.”

you smile.

kuni sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “…you scared me too, you know. in simulanka.”

durin blinks.

“but you stopped,” kuni mutters. “you changed. you chose to change. even though no one asked you to. even though everyone was scared of you. that counts for something.” he kneels beside him, eye-level.

“you’re not a monster, durin. just a dumb dragon with bad aim and a weird sense of humor.” durin stares.

then he throws himself into a hug.

“WHAT ARE YOU—GET OFF—” “YOU DON’T HATE ME!!” “I NEVER SAID THAT!!” “HAT GUY LOVES ME!!!” “SHUT UP!!”

you laugh. despite everything — the mess, the broken shelves, the tea that now has feathers in it again — you laugh.

the sky is still grey, but softer now.

and maybe this isn’t just a house full of misfits. maybe this is something healing. maybe this is something like home.

credits to @cafekitsune for the animated border lines!

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