[nanami kento] a man of yours, tonight
[Nanami Kento x FTM/Transgender Male Reader Smut]
CW: Contains scenes of explicit sex below the cut
He has noticed your shy smiles, the exuberance in that glint in your eyes every time he gives voice to the praise you deserve. He'll give it to you no matter the time, the place, or the hour.
—
He has noticed your shy smiles, the exuberance in that glint in your eyes every time he gives voice to the praise you deserve. That color makes you bloom, he said as you headed out the door to start the car. Hmm, new shampoo today? Your hair smells wonderful, he murmured into your ear as you scooped him into your arms to settle in for bed. You’re always using that brain of yours, hm? He told you as you settled the accounts for Jujutsu Tech on a whim, manipulating the arithmetic and algebraic behind accounting with ease.
Now he moans your name in pleasure, his heartbeat speeding up to match the symphony of your own. Your legs have locked around him. Every time he feels your thighs around his waist and your limbs wrapping around him his brain explodes with pleasure and a delicious throb courses through him. He is yours; you own him, and you are his to breed.
“Kento,” you groan deeply, head twisting to the side as his fingers reach between your thighs to finger the tip of your little cocklet. “Please—wait.”
“No, no, love.” He slides his middle finger up the sensitive tip of your bulging clitoris, shuddering through a breath as you clench tight around him. “Keep using that handsome voice of yours. Make sure everyone hears how good I fuck my beautiful husband.”
Your head tilts up to force a kiss to his lips. Your tongue slides against his. He knows all your tactics, all the ways you try to stop him from saying all the things you like only because you’re too shy to hear them. He parts his lips from yours to suckle kisses along your jaw, gentle enough to leave no bruises but with enough insistence to have you shivering with delight. His cock stretches you inside as he thrusts.
For a time, he had been shy himself. Making love to you for the first and every time blew his mind, though the words of praise he wished to share with you would catch in his throat. It was when you had made love to him, moaning words of sweetness into his ear with you between his legs that cracked him. He will always remember every second of those moments: the skillful shift of your hips to angle into his sensitive, neglected prostate, the pleasured shudder of your musculature even as he knew your pleasure was derived only by the sight of your sex meeting his. After, though spent and panting from three drawn-out orgasms, he had wrestled you into bed to slip his face between your legs and drag his tongue along your slit. You had already removed the prosthetic and had drawn a bath for the two of you, but he would not heed your call for a bath and simply moved his tongue around your still-hard cocklet. He remembers the way you fought till the end, telling him to leave it be, that you could take care of it yourself, until your body had sagged with each expert movement of his desperate tongue and your wetness gushed from your hole to spill into his starved mouth. He remembers licking into you, past your overstimulation with you clawing at his shoulders, until he’d broken you into giving him a second, your moans deep and borderline exhausted.
“Kento,” you cry now, voice high-pitched. Ah, you’re close. This sensitive cocklet of yours… how he loves it.
“Mm, let it out, lovely.”
Cum on my cock, show me what it feels like. Give me your pleasure. Perhaps, one day, he will hear you say these things with your own length pumping inside him.
Your body twists as he draws an orgasm from you. “That’s it,” he moans, his thrusts slowing, deepening as his cock pulses with his own need. “Good boy. Good boy.”
Though his pace has slowed, he falls over the brink easily. His body loosens and he hunches over you to cradle you in his arms as his cock throbs to fill you up with his cum. He groans into your neck, unabashed, holding you close while your lips kiss his ear to tiredly murmur your own praise.
“Fill me up Kento,” you groan. “Fill me up.”
After, though spent, he draws a bath. He grabs the two towels designated solely for cleaning the both of you up after sex and returns to the bedroom to wipe bewteen your legs, as you have done so many times for him. You give a squeeze to his hand and murmur your thanks.
“Of course,” he says, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I’ve always got you.”
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Boo! 👻🦇🎃
Wishing you the most spooktacular Halloween!!
Some doodles below
My kiddos!! the sibling trio all together :) I have yet to introduce two of them but I ensure you they're all quite silly!!( it's even their last name smhh)
Anyways-
Pumpkins..
This year Lilly wanted to be a creepy pumpkin >:]
while Sunny and Billy - vampires. Turns out their costumes matched Frank's :D
(as a tailor Sunny definitely was the one who made costumes for their siblings and most likely helped other neighbors with theirs!^^)
Tailor and theater kid they're besties your honor
Lilly lore? On Halloween? More likely than you think
"Found a funny clown lady by the forest but everybody else seems to not notice her or runs away in fear! How odd!"
Lilly, are you sure they were scared of you?
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On Clark && Organized Crime.
I really emphasize the fact Clark dabbles heavily in the criminal world (and corporate business overworld) and that he has a reputation, but also is a relatively mysterious individual-—you may have asked yourself how the fuck he manages to be some business-equivalent of John goddamn W*ck and does so while being a supernatural creature.
We've been over the HOW in terms of how he has the influence he has, the connections, etc. Clark works OBSESSIVELY, he's toxic about it to the point where the only reason he hasn't fucked his own health is because he's got the perks of being inhuman. I really hammer in the fact that Clark NEEDS to keep busy and so he dumps just about all of his waking energy into what he does and with the combination of supernatural perks && his own unmatched drive, he accomplished an insane amount in a mere 20 years that could rival just about any multi-generational crime family at this point. I touch on it a little more in detail HERE.
WHAT'S HE DO?
What does he bring to the table? What has gotten him so well connected and powerful? As one might expect from the son of a demon-— he's a deal maker, a deal settler, and a deal enforcer. He's your middleman they can't say no to and, more importantly, he's one that don't WANT to say no to. He brings other things to the table that's earned him some respect like being insanely reliable and always delivering on his promises and, of course, the fact he's got enough money and favors pocketed it makes him valuable just to be in business with.
On the less savory side of things, there are certainly stories ring leaders tell their underlings to keep them in line and many of them may or may not involve Clark and what he has may or may not have done to groups that have gone back on their word with him or went so far as to double-cross him. Rooms of gore, entire crime families wiped over night if they were lucky, killed in every way but physically if they weren't. Gnarly stuff and gnarly punishments for what Clark considers the biggest affront to him. Needless to say, with statements like that, betrayal doesn't happen much nowadays.
Got a pretty decent example of something he might get up to if you reeeeally peeved him off HERE.
BEING IMMORTAL IN A MORTAL WORLD
Arachno, you may ask, how the fuck does he exist like this for twenty something plus years and do the things he does and not be found out? Does no one ask questions??? The short answer is: he really only half avoids it and also people would rather believe a nonsensical lie than they would to accept some batshit truth.
The long answer is he has a plethora of aliases. Frankly, you could be working with or for him and not even know it. Aside from that, he sends liaisons in his stead at times, he impersonates as his own grandson, was his own son before that. Sometimes, he just goes as Mr. Thompson in person, sometimes he only communicates via voice or text. Between all these mediums of doing business, it just further lends to his wild ass reputation. Which leads us to...
THE DEMON OF WALL STREET
An annoying moniker he's earned (much to his chagrin) and is due to the culmination of his own dark reputation, the manner in which he conducts business and settles deals, and also because of the fact there are totally grandpappy crime lords out there on their last leg who SWEAR they remember dealing with the same eerily beautiful blond man in a suit that their predecessor is working with now despite how humanly impossible that would be. Some real Age of Adaline shit. Mr. Thompson does get tossed around a lot, but this title is what you'll hear most often-—especially when you're in a pinch and looking for a last ditch solution to a problem. This is where I get a lot of the OMG!! HE'S JUST LIKE JW from because, really, that's how he gets talked about-—like this scene for example.
Really, he's just some highly professional, efficient, and will-driven businessman that can be like a force of nature if you personally agitate him. Truly an angel to some, a demon to others.
GETTING IN CONTACT WITH THE DEMON
Sort of just an altered version of how you'd get ahold of him in a supernatural sense. He's got a business card with nothing but a number that usually gets passed around by people he's already worked with, sometimes it's by word of mouth. You call or text this number, you get meeting instructions, the line becomes unreachable.
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