Nanami Kento Fluff - Blog Posts

Nanami always pays for everything. A complete pushover. The restaurant bill, your classes, your hygiene products, sometimes even part of your rent. Every time, he's the one who pulls out the card, as if it were the most natural thing to do. And even though he does it without hesitation, it weighs on you.

He often tells you that you deserve it all, that you're his priority. That he can more than afford to buy things himself. He says it with such sincerity that it's almost soothing. Almost. Despite his words, guilt whispers to you that he's giving too much and that you're taking advantage of it.

Every time, you thank him. With smiles, tender gestures, grateful 'thank yous'. But deep down, you have this need to give back even a little of everything he gives you. To show him, in your own way, that you love him as much as he loves you.

So you decide to give him a gift. Not something you buy, something you can find in stores or online, not something expensive. Just something personal, real, sincere.

So, you poured your heart into a handmade notebook, filled with photos of the two of you, of him, of shared memories. On each page, a little note, a handwritten memory, surrounded by sweet and simple decorations. You added a letter at the end, filled with your feelings for him, and a bracelet you woven in his favorite colors, delicately attached to the notebook. Then, a small bouquet of paper flowers, all wrapped in a discreet, modest ribbon.

That evening, after yet another dinner he paid for without paying, you went to his house, the gift in your hands. He didn't suspect a thing. When you handed it to him, he looked at you with slight surprise, then gently took the package.

He opened it slowly. His eyes scanned the pages. And then, a smile appeared on his face. One of those he didn't often show. A sweet, rare, sincere smile.

"You didn't have to do all that..." he murmurs, his voice a little lower with emotion.

You lower your head slightly, embarrassed but happier, your cheeks a little warm. "I wanted you to know how much you mean to me... and to thank you. It's not much, but it's all I did with my heart."

He places the notebook next to him and moves closer. And before you can say another word, he takes you in his arms. A long, gentle hug, his scent invading you and reassuring you.

"You make me so happy, you know?"

You smile against his shoulder, realizing it more and more, but you're so happy with him too.

"I should be the one saying that."

a/n: i love nanami sm omg.. ⟢﹒ masterlist

There are days when your husband, Nanami, during a quiet moment, chooses a soft, intimate melody that you appreciate. Then, with infinite tenderness, he takes you in his arms, so strong and protective in a complicit silence, he guides you in a light dance, one step after the other, to a melody that seems to suspend time. He rests his chin on your silky hair and closes his eyes, letting himself be carried away. It is a moment of peace where the world disappears, where there is only him and you, and your infinite love for each other. Music and love intertwine in perfect harmony.

a/n: nanami pls be real.. 😭 and tysmm for the 400 followers!💗💗 i luv u smm guys mwaaaah ⟢﹒ masterlist

"--need to go--" kiss "--just for a minute, let me--" kiss "--go to the bathroom, I--" kiss "--god, you're a menace, I'll lift you onto this counter, and you'll stay there until I get back--" giggle, kiss.

You whispered filthy whispers against Kento's lips, playfully dragging him back to you by the collar each time he tried to release himself.

Half-huff, and half-kiss, he grumbled and spun you around as you laughed, gripping your hands behind your back and pressing you forwards against the counter.

"--unhand me, wife, or I'll tie you up--"

"--don't threaten me with a good time, Kento--"

"--truly-- truly incorrigible woman--"

You laughed again, arching back against him, and pressing his cock into the crease of your barely-covered arse until he moaned; in annoyance, or lust? You weren't sure. Perhaps both. You had the bit between your teeth.

Kento wouldn't put up with your shenanigans for much longer. He slapped your arse, jiggling it with a growl, and dashed past your swiping hands to the bathroom. You whined, then sighed to the sound of his victory chuckle, the bathroom door clicking closed behind him.

Silence-- for 30 seconds. A minute. Two minutes. Three. You called out, smirking.

"Doesn't take that long to pee, Ken--"

The bathroom door clicked open. A low, mulish grumble sounded from within.

"I...can't go."

You frowned, stifling a laugh. "What?"

"I can't go. I'm too hard. I...can't pee."

Bursting out into laughter was your downfall, and it broke down into panicked squeals as Kento stomped out of the bathroom after you, his lap tightly tented over his cock.

He tossed you onto the sofa, dragging you back by the legs when you tried to wriggle and escape, and pinning you beneath him with nuzzled growls to your throat.

"--thorn in my side-- too erect to piss, and other problems my wife causes--"

"--oh, no, whatever can we do to fix this--"

"--you're talking too much and wearing too many clothes, as usual-- come back here-- certainly one thing we can do to fix this, madam--"

honeymoon- nanami kento x wife!reader

a/n- in preparation for this week’s episode, this is my ode to my husband

warnings- fem!reader, unprotected sex, praise, missionary pos, mating press, belly bulge, nanami has a big d, implied breeding kink, fluffff

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Nanami Kento had been dreaming of a vacation. Somewhere with sand and palm trees, warm weather, the ocean, you. Now it would take a lot for him to admit this because he’s not a dreamer, per se, especially with his strict work ethic, but the amount of times he had to catch himself during a shift from drifting off in a fantasy about sleeping in or relaxing on the beach, you could say he had started to reflect his child-like self.

Except every single one of those dreams could not rival the feeling of experiencing his honeymoon with you. He’d gotten what he wanted. A private villa, surrounded by greenery with a whole rainbow of colors blessing the space. Red, orange, pink, and especially white flowers would pop out from the dense leaves of the tropical garden that was essentially your front yard, their sweet perfume just light enough to not be too overbearing. The villa was perched in a cluster of palms, the white-sand beaches of the Caribbean literally at your disposal by a pathway from your bedroom, its wood-lined trail leading down to a private oceanside cove of sand and the most vivid aquamarine water you’d ever seen.

It had been five days since the two of you had arrived at your little oasis, 120 hours of complete and utter relaxation accompanied by sheer happiness. You could barely contain your excitement for the trip when he’d announced the surprise destination a month before your wedding, and that giddiness you were once feeling was multiplied tenfold. Kento Nanami was finally your husband. The man you had fallen for was now tied to you legally and emotionally, the two of you matching with the golden bands placed upon your fingers, yours just a tad bit more extravagant with the stone you had dreamt of forged perfectly into the smooth metal.

Your favorite gift you had received though was once again from your husband. It had been given on the day of your wedding, a little white, bow-tied box placed in your hands before the reception. Upon opening it, you were met with a pretty bracelet, a twisted chain of pure platinum so uniformly perfect, you knew your husband had picked it. Your favorite part however, was the tiny charm hanging from the chain, a cursive “k” inscribed into the precious material, a clear sign of your newly wed’s hand in the purchase. “I’m yours now,” he had whispered into your hair, kissing away a stray tear from your cheek before helping you clasp the delicate chain around your wrist.

For days you had thanked him any way you could for his kindness, the two new additions he’d gifted so beautifully thoughtful, gifts that certainly garnered a lot of attention, especially when it came to some.. exerting activities.

It was like the atmosphere had turned you two into animals, your bodies sore from the endless (sorry for lack of a better word), fucking, the tension so thick you could feel it heavy in your chest, the warm, salty breeze flowing through the mesh, white curtains of your bedroom doing nothing to help calm your lustful state.

It was nearly dusk and your current session had started about an hour ago, any and every position you could think of already tried, your body turned and flipped a multitude of times before you were placed on your back again, thighs pushed up against your chest, your legs falling over your husband’s broad shoulders.

Your throat was dry from the fountain of moans constantly spilling from your mouth, Nanami’s name starting to sound like an imaginary word from the amount of times you’d choked out the syllables. Don’t be too embarrassed though because he was just as knocked as you, his skin flush from exertion, sweat dampening his blonde locks, and his usually cool tone of voice had turned desperate, your own name a slurred grumble or groan every time he felt you clench around him.

Your silky, white nightgown had been discarded long ago, the little scrap of fabric on the floor reminding you of what had started this escapade in the first place. The memory of Nanami’s eyes darkening when you’d emerged for bedtime had your stomach tightening and eyes squeezing shut. You’d known him for who knows how long and he still managed to make you feel like a horny teenager with just one look.

“My perfect wife,” he panted into your neck, heavy cock nudging your deepest parts, you could feel him in your belly, could even see him in your belly, the area below your navel molding just slightly into the shape of his cock every time he would push into you.

Your skin was glowing from the last remnants of sunlight reaching through the gauzey curtains, the ocean waves gentle as they crashed along the shore, wrapping you in a cocoon of pure passion, the current moment so perfect and loving, one of Nanami’s hands snaking into your palm to ground you, the other resting beside your head as he kissed the tender curve of your neck.

He was a warm lover. Caring, romantic, a listener. Someone who focuses on giving instead of stealing pleasure. That’s why it was so easy to give him your trust, to open yourself up to him emotionally, and physically. Someone who easily outshined anyone when it came to choosing who to share your remaining years with.

Your ring fingers clinked together when he pushed into you with a particularly needy thrust, the golden bands once again twining as his fingers curled over your own in a firm lock. “Only yours,” you whimpered out, voice almost breaking from your very vulnerable position, your chest compromised as your legs were propped up, the backs of your thighs fitting against his chest, folding over his shoulders at the knees.

Not only did your words drive him crazy, but the little jingle he would hear every time his hips connected with your own had his eyebrows knitting with some primal need to actually make you his. The bracelet he’d gifted you had ended up clasped around your delicate ankle, the silver charm glinting his initial in the low lights, every little reflection catching his peripheral, spurring him on. You had done it on purpose. You had known he would have you folded sooner or later and you knew how much he loved to mark you, that piece of jewelry a literal signing of his name on you.

Your mouths latched onto each other, hurried kisses ending in heavy breaths against each other’s face or neck, eventually your foreheads being the place of rest as he continued to fuck you with every ounce of energy in his body.

“-love you, s’much,” you murmured, voice lilting with the rising pleasure in your core, his thick length prodding every ridge you had to offer, that spongey spot of nerves catching his head with every pass, eliciting a gasp from your lips, Nanami’s jaw clenching as he held himself back from completely plowing into you, your approaching climax drawing a rush of liquid from your twitching cunt, trickling onto his thighs.

“I love you,” he kissed you this time, his strong hand fisting the sheets beside your head, the other still clutching onto your hand as he knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock feeling like a full-blown spear impaling you, the only thing keeping you sane being his mouth on you, and the sweet-nothings groaned from his lips.

***

It was dark by the time you two had truly finished with each other, your body curled up in Nanami’s lap as he lounged with you on the large chairs placed outside the curtains of your bedroom, the moonlight bouncing off the waves as they continued their trek across the shore.

His nimble fingers traced gentle shapes on your back, your upper body covered by his blue shirt, dwarfing your form in a pool of fabric, Nanami modeling your “half-nakedness” with only a pair of boxers, his strong legs visible to your very sleepy, but eager eyes.

Some type of tropical, cricket creature hummed a pretty song, coaxing your eyelids to flutter, your body sinking further into your husband’s hold, your cheek nestled gently against the soft curves of his collarbone, his heartbeat steady in your ear.

Taking note of your drifting consciousness, Nanami smiled down at your curled up form, fingers slowly letting up on their brief massage session to brace his hold. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, kissing the top of your hair with such tenderness you almost agreed to get up and listen, but he was just so warm and cozy.

Pretending to not hear him, you put on your best sleeping face, mouth opening slightly to really pull it off, the tiniest of snores leaving you in a very convincing manner. Silence followed your antics before a rumble vibrated from the chest of the man you lied on, a soft laugh leaving him as he took in your ‘sleeping state’, a laugh that had your lips twitching, a smile almost breaking out on your face.

“What a shame.. the Mrs. has fallen asleep on me,” he sighed, voice filled with faux sorrow, and when he relaxed back into the chair, you thought the victory was yours, nuzzling back against his chest to comfortably relax again. That was.. before your world was turned upside down, a yelp echoing from your throat as Nanami hoisted you over his shoulder, your bottom cradled by his large hand as he smiled that stupid smile of his and trekked back into the bedroom, all fatigue gone from the two of you, replaced with the teasing air of aching want.

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Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black!Fem Reader

Rating/CW: Just a fluffy drabble of Nanami Kento loving you.

Summary: Early morning musings.

a/n: I've really been suffering from writer's block these past few months. The words come and go at a pace that's maddening, but thankfully, they stayed long enough for me to write this little piece.

JJK Masterlist | Divider: @saradika-graphics

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

"How did I get so lucky?"

It's the question that surfaces in Nanami's mind as he watches you sleep beside him, early morning light casting gentle shadows across your features. Your breathing is steady, peaceful, a barely there rumble with every inhale that he’s memorized over countless mornings like this one. Just as he’s done many times before, he traces the outline of your form, fingertips ghosting over your skin without disturbing you.

In those first few mornings of your relationship, your eyes would flutter open just from the proximity of his touch, catching him in his admiration. He wouldn’t bother to hide the blush, you would throw him a sleepy smile, then succumb to sleep again. Now, many mornings later, you’ve grown accustomed to his gentle exploration, allowing him to follow the curve of your shoulder, reconnecting the constellations that pepper your brown skin without stirring from your dreams.

In this position, while you sleep on your stomach, he can admire the subtle roll of skin on your neck where it meets your shoulder—a gentle landscape formed by the angle of your head against the silk pillow. It may be his own imaginings, but he can already smell the Shea butter from your neck, warming from the rising sun and wafting to tickle his nose in a half-remembered dream that lingers many hours into his work day.

Your diamond earrings glint in the morning light—beautiful studs you refuse to remove despite his concerns. He’s learned to love this small token of rebellion, unafraid to admit that the way the jewelry complements your skin makes you look particularly ethereal in the waking hours. The sunlight hits these diamonds at the right angle, splintering light in a mix of purple and green that plays across the curve of your cheek, as if nature is adorning you herself.

Even while unconscious, you are beautiful.

He traces up, fingertips brushing your lobe before smoothing through edges that have smeared on your skin like delicate wisps of morning fog. They’re perfect, tiny coils and curls that defy rule and frizz along your hairline, peeking from the cream satin bonnet. That bonnet, somehow still attached to you despite how wildly you sleep, showcases to him all the care you take with yourself, all the traditions passed sacred to you that he’s been allowed to learn, to witness, to cherish.

And god, how he cherishes the uninhibited abandon in which you sleep—the complete trust spoken in the way you sprawl across a mattress that was once solely his. Your cheek is creased from your pillowcase and hands, the corners of your lashes crystallized with evidence of your dreams, and your lips—slightly parted, pillowed with relaxation—glisten at one corner with moisture you have long stopped being embarrassed about in his presence.

It’s you in your purest form—unguarded, unfiltered, displaying a beauty more profound than anything the waking world gets to see. It’s you without makeup, you without measured words, underneath social performances, practiced smiles, and expectations—the raw truth of you, morning breath and all.

Just his. It’s a privilege so deep that it makes his chest ache, the gratitude overwhelming.

"How did I get so lucky?"

Nanami remembers the strict parameters he once set around relationships—the necessary boundaries, the premeditated time commitments, the emotional distance he maintained without thinking. Work—for as firm as he is about clocking out on time—came first, then necessities, then, if time allowed and he had the mental stamina, connection. For him, it was efficient. But terribly lonely.

Naturally, you shifted it all without trying.

The memory of seeing you for the first time still replays in his mind—fresh as the day it happened, enhanced by his own untempered affection that grows over time. He’s carried an unspoken envy for his parents’ love-at-first-sight story his entire life, a curmudgeon of his own making that could also speak of self-sabotage in relationships that never lasted. Surely they were exaggerating? Love at first sight? As if the cosmos aligned at the right moment to bring Mr. and Mrs. Nanami together? Nanami refused to believe it.

And yet he’ll tell anyone who will listen that every grievance he held about the concept evaporated the moment he saw you. Surrounded by greenery and the stifling heat of a plant nursery, perfect textured hair framing your face that pursed with contemplation, neck curved over a large Monstera Deliciosa. A sage sundress that fluttered over your form like gossamer wings catching the sunlight, the shimmer of your sunscreen across the expanse of your shoulders like dewdrops, a cock in your hip as you studied the plant only made you stand out as sublime elegance amongst the foliage.

Admittedly, he remembers feeling only embarrassment when he reached for the plant before his mind could truly register your presence—his original quest into the nursery solely to find a gift for his secretary, who was becoming a new mother.

He remembers the embarrassment flaring liquid hot in his chest when your eyes flashed with surprise and indignation that he would take something you had mentally staked claim to. He remembers how disorienting it all was—the sudden awareness of you as if the rest of the nursery had faded to shadows. Your brow had lifted in disbelief as you rolled your eyes and brushed past him, the subtle scent of what he now knows as Shea butter lingering in the humid air. Nanami found himself frozen, the Monstera forgotten in his hands, his perfectly ordered thoughts scattering like leaves in a sudden breeze.

He remembers how that white hot embarrassment quickly morphed into something unfamiliar, fleeting in previous relationships but never as prominent as in that moment—a flutter in his stomach, a tightness in his chest, and a desperation that he’s thankful to have embraced.

“I’m buying a gift for a new mother, but maybe I can find something that would not require so much care,” he’d said, the words tumbling from his mouth like a wobbling newborn calf as he watched you stop, turn to face him, guarded eyes taking him in. “Do you have any suggestions?”

He remembers how his heart hammered against his ribcage as he waited for your response, how the simple act of breathing seemed almost impossible. How utterly mortifying it was to realize that in thirty seconds, you had changed everything for him. How unbelievably confused he felt when the cosmos he mocked aligned for him when he ran into you at a bookstore days later, giving him the courage to ask you for coffee, for your number, for a date, and the many that followed to create the perfect cacophony of love.

"How did I get so lucky?"

It’s almost ridiculous how fortunate he is. How he gets to hear you laugh—genuine and unrestrained, choked around a snort when he’s said something particularly dry. How he gets to hear your musings in the comfort of your home—the melodic cadence of your humming when you bake, the unprecedented sailor mouth that would make his mother faint, the conversations you have with your dog as he follows you to the backyard. Every day, despite being subject to it many times, it feels like the very first time.

The novelty of it will never fade, because Nanami still calculates how to make you laugh so hard your lashes bubble with tears. He still asks what song you’re humming, knowing you’ll always reply “I made it up”. He still pretends to be shocked that the way a curse word flies from your mouth doesn’t make him unnaturally turned on. He still raises both brows when he hears you conversing with the dog, even though he has embraced the same habit.

"How did I get so lucky?"

The variation of thought comes naturally as his fingers fall back to his side, careful not to disturb you. There was a time when luck meant nothing to him—when grief was the only emotion he allowed himself to fully embrace, a painful reminder of his humanity when everything else felt hollow.

There was only one person who had truly seen him—experienced and witnessed the raw parts of the awkward growth through puberty, commiserated over failed crushes, shared late nights playing video games, and made him laugh until his stomach hurt. When that person was ripped away before their life could truly begin, it left Nanami in denial for so long that isolation became his sanctuary.

Each subsequent attempt at connection through romantic means only reinforced what experience had taught him—that opening a sliver of himself inevitably led to another goodbye, another confirmation that vulnerability was simply an invitation for devastation.

So it’s odd how that worry sprouted in the youth of your relationship with him but was never strong enough to take root. He was healthier, stronger even, and intelligent enough to know that you would not settle for someone who only loved in half-truths. For the first time, the fear of losing someone by not trying, outweighed the fear of the pain that might come with trying and failing.

When Nanami had the choice between protecting himself and never knowing you completely, or risking that devastation for the chance to build something real, he found himself making a choice that his deceased friend would have encouraged with a smile that could make the sun rise.

His efforts have paid off.

As the world wakes up and the noise of cars increases from the cracked window, Nanami counts his lucky stars that he tried. As he watches you sleep, he feels something swell in his chest—a fullness that once scared him but now feels like coming home after a long day.

Soon, he’ll slip out of bed like he does every morning, each day a ritual of thankfulness for the life he almost denied himself. Soon he’ll walk into the kitchen and measure coffee grounds with the same precision he applies to everything, his eyes drifting to the mug you always use—chipped on the handle, crafted from an impromptu class you dragged him to as a second date. He’d been so focused on not embarrassing himself with clumsy hands that he’d missed the exact moment you decided he was worth keeping.

Soon he will slide a fresh cup to you across the counter, taking in your ruffled form—bonnet still secure, eyes heavy with sleep, a blanket wrapped around you because you’re always cold, even in summer. The sight will catch in his throat like it always does, you trusting and vulnerable, showing a version of yourself that transforms his once sterile apartment into a home where love blooms in every corner.

But for now, he watches as you grumble and smack your lips, rolling over until your head is resting on his chest. He blooms with heat, an iridescent sensation that radiates outward from that exact spot, like your memory lives beneath his skin and thrums to life when you’re close. You wrap an arm around him, whether it’s to test the firmness of a pillow or to make sure it’s still him, he’s not quite sure. But it means nothing when you fall back into slumber, snoring softly against him, your breath a metronome that’s synched with his over time.

The rush of it all settles into his bones like it does every morning as he relaxes, his hand tracing the column of your spine absentmindedly.

You chose him. From the moment you rolled your eyes in that nursery, some invisible thread connected you both, and despite it all, that thread held tight. Out of all possibilities, out of all potential paths, you chose this one—with him. Not out of necessity or convenience, but with deliberate, purposeful love that continues to choose him, minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day.

"How did I get so lucky?"

“Kento,” you slur against his chest, voice gravelly with sleep, “stop thinking so loud so I can sleep. It’s too early.”

It’s almost eleven in the morning. But Nanami can do nothing but chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, marveling as your curls tickle his nose before his fingers return to their pilgrimage across your body. Each brush of him against you comes with an unspoken promise—that he will never take this for granted, that he will chose you every morning just as purposefully as you chose him.

"How did I get so lucky?"

Who knows. But Nanami will spend every day making sure he deserves it.

Thanks for reading!

NANAMI KENTO

slow dancing with Nanami while listening to Fade into you by Mazzy star brings tears to my eyes ngl. resting your head on his shoulder and clasping his hand as he places his other hand on your hip, both of you swaying in unison around your cozy little home. him believing there's no one prettier than you are and you knowing that he's the most handsome and charming man on this planet, nothing can keep you from it, come hell or high water. him gazing at you lovingly as you do the most mundane things, he says he's enamored by your charm when you catch him looking. he gets the slightest blush when you try on newly bought clothes to show him (it ends up with him tenderly taking them off). he loves it when you explore his interests and thinks he cannot possibly love you more.

-Comfort me Kento- (Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

Nanami Kento X Fem!Reader (Reader hasn't been feeling up to energy lately. Any burden they hold resting upon their shoulders and weighing them down. Finding themselves tired to the point that they don't bother to move from their bed. Instead rotting in their bed for a few days. Until your boyfriend, Nanami, notices your absence and decides to come check up on you, which leads to him helping you clean your room and shower. Slightly suggestive I guess???? (Nanami is helping you take a bath.) It's really just comforting the reader. [Reader is also a jujutsu sorcerer that works alongside Nanami at times]

---Start!!!------------------------------------------------------------------- You lay there, covered in layer upon layers of blankets. The only movement seen is the rise and fall of your chest, your shallow breathing being the only sound heard along the walls. The curtain drapes covering the windows, not allowing the light to enter your room. Not that it was sunny outside either way. It was winter, the snowflakes falling gently, the snow now having piled up on your lawn. Yet you didn't move from where your laid on the bed. You had the same clothes on now for two days. You see it's not like you're usually like this. You're a person who works hard. You usually go on to finish any work for you job on time. Take care of yourself right, feeding yourself, and doing the essentials for yourself. Yet you couldn't right now. It's not like you didn't want to. Actually... Yeah maybe you didn't want to. But! it's not because you're unhygienic or anything. It's hard to explain honestly, you just didn't find the energy in you. You were spent from everything. The work, the pressure, your family, your life. Everything. So there you laid in your bed. Wrapped with multiple layers of blankets, your arms hugging a pillow, and your whole body resting right in the middle of your bed. You didn't think of anything, you were just there. You didn't bother thinking of your boyfriend Nanami!

Throughout the days you were in your bed you received constant messages from Nanami which consisted of:

Nanami: Good Morning Dear, I didn't see you today at work. Are you taking a break? If you need anything just message me or call me. I love you.

You: I'm alright.

With each message you received a little of hope yet along with it some guilt. A small tired smile forming on your face. But as soon as you would turn off your phone screen your reflection was shown. Eyebags present. Your hair in disarray. Your face somehow sagging. The next morning persisted of the same type of message, Nanami asking you if you're alright and if you need anything. You would reply with dry simple texts. It's all you could muster. Knowing that those texts wouldn't be enough to sugar coat the burdens, the issues, all the mess ups, all the hate that's starting to build up within you. Not a hate towards anyone. No, instead it's a hate towards you. A hate towards the reflection you see on your phone screen. A hate that throughout this you somehow easily gained some weight, that through this you left your body unkept. You would lay there staring at the screen, your eyes hurting and your head throbbing in pain. You couldn't handle the screen of the device, the light boring into your eyes through the darkness of your room. So instead your turned your phone off. Rested it next to you and laid there. Not wanting to see your reflection. You would sooner of later start drowning yourself in your problems again and again. A never ending cycle. Different scenes of where you failed where you've done mistakes along the way. All of it building up to you. The different burdens you carry. Burning into you, marking your conscious. Your eyes had grown tired, your eye lids heavy. Despite having gained so much sleep you found yourself even more tired. Unable to stand, unable to move, even forgetting how to breathe at times. Yet everything was interrupted, your self wallowing, your thoughts that were killing you by the second-

Knock! Knock!

You opened your eyes, and looked towards the door slowly confused. I didn't order anything. You muttered to yourself. You didn't want to get up. Didn't want to see who was behind the door. So you slowly laid back down and ignored the sound. Maybe it was those pesky people that would try to make you buy their "amazing" products. But instead your heard a familiar voice, a soothing one. "Love? Are you there?" A muffled voice asked. It took you some time to process before you slowly got up. Your eyes widening at the sound of the person who had been messaging you non-stop. The realization hitting you like a truck. The person who had been checking up on you. Nanami.

You hesitantly got up, wrapped yourself up in your blankets. You looked upon your clothes. Your pajama pants and a baggy short sleeved shirt on. The same clothes you had been wearing for two days straight. You probably smelled bad. Your hair was a mess. You sighed and felt like crying that moment. You didn't want him to see you like this. He wasn't used to this part of you. The part where you found yourself unable to move and unable to stop putting yourself down.

You speed walked to your closet and pulled out a fresh clean blanket, covering yourself up with it, smothering your hair under the blanket. You hastily walked to the front door and opened it slightly. There before you stood Nanami. His shirt smooth, clean, and perfect. His hair combed back perfectly. You could only stare at him as he turned to you and offered your a worried look. But you didn't pay attention to that. You were mesmerized by him. Everything about him was neat. Unlike you. You thought to yourself. Which only caused you to slink into your blanket more. "Can I come in love?" Nanami asked you gently. After all this time-which may have only been two days- that you spent in your room, you found yourself caught off guard by his softness, his carefulness with you. You only nodded your head and opened the door hesitantly allowing him to enter your house. It was a mess to say the least. Your bags were all piled up in one corner, meanwhile your hats and sweaters where thrown around the living room.

To say the least, before you had your time of rotting in bed your emotions had spiked. Your anger that you had piled up in your life had gotten the best of you. Which ended up in you trashing your house. Your screams echoing around the walls as your threw your clothes against the wall. Threw your couch pillows and had dropped a vase on the ground, which you hastily cleaned up. Yet everything else was where you had last left it in your moment where you broke. Nanami looked around the room, noticing how everything was a mess, how it looked like your house was destroyed.

Nanami could only gaze at everything, piecing together everything. The way you looked, the way everything was a mess, and how you didn't greet him how you usually would. A smile would grace your features. You would hug him and smother his face with kisses. You'd talk, you'd shine, but now to him, everything was the opposite. You didn't beam at him this time you saw him. You instead hid yourself, you didn't talk, you just stared at him. Nanami reached out to you gently and put his hand under your chin, tilting your head gently to have you face him. You looked at him hesitantly, your face flushing red in embarrassment. A million thoughts passed through you in that moment. Is he disappointed? Is he going to turn and leave me? What if he just decides I'm not good enough for him? Is he going to look at me with disgust? A face you'd never seen before but you can only imagine.

And that's how it should be. A face you should only imagine. Nanami would even argue it's a face that he would never show you, a face that should never cross your mind in the first place because instead of that Nanami looks at you with worry. Taking in your vulnerable state. Seeing the way your face changed. Seeing how you slumped. Nanami couldn't stand seeing you like this. Worry showcasing through his eyes. Not disgust, not disappointment. Yet something else was there. Gratitude. He was grateful you let him see you like this sooner rather than later. You could have shut the door in front of his face. Yet you let him in. Even if you hesitated. Nanami spoke softly to you as he asked, "Have you not been taking care of yourself?" He looked at you and gently slid the blanket off of you. He saw your hair a mess. The way your face sagged. You could only look at him, your face reddening in embarrassment but at the same time the tiredness making your less responsive. Yet you nodded your head gently in response. "I haven't been able to bring myself to do anything." Was all you could muster up to say. Nanami nodded his head and kissed your forehead gently. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You say softly, ashamed that you would even need to say that in the first place.

Nanami looked at you and sighed. He reached over to you and picked you up bridal style. Earning a gasp from you. "Well then let me help you wash off." He said softly. You soon find yourself in your bathroom. Nanami then set you down on the small chair in front of your bathroom mirror. You stood there next to him as he removed the blanket from your figure. "If you don't want me here I'll respect that dear. Yet, I'd like to help you if you're okay with that." He said to you gently as he reached for the brush and brushed your hair patiently, making sure to undo any knots. Making sure it didn't hurt too much he pulled gently. You couldn't explain how you were feeling right now. This man is really winning you over, huh? You thought to yourself as you gazed upon his reflection from the mirror, his hands gently moving the brush through your hair. You love this man. My god do you love him. You thought to yourself. His gaze lifted and he noticed your gaze on him. He smiled at you through the reflection, a warm smile, a endearing smile, a smile that had you weak at your heart.

Soon enough your hair was brushed out neatly and Nanami motioned to your clothes, asking for permission to undress you. You nodded your head. Nanami helped you undress slowly, a small kiss pressed to your shoulder as he took off your shirt. A small kiss on your knee as he removed your sweatpants. He knew you were tired, he knew you needed to relax so he turned the bath water on, putting it at a nice warm temperature. Soon your garments were decorating the bathroom floor. You stood there embarrassed of the way you looked, you noticed you somehow gained some weight. Nanami was kneeling near the tub, checking the temperature and he looked towards you, he held your hand gently and helped you inside the tub. You laid down, and noticed how Nanami had rolled up the sleeves of his clean smooth button up shirt. "You don't have to help me Nanami, I can do it myself." You said hastily not wanting to bother him more than he probably has been. But Nanami shook his head and tilted your face to face him. He smiled softly at you, but a hint of worry flashes through them. "Let me help you please, I want to." He said softly and caressed your cheek gently. "Alright." You said softly, barely audible.

He reached over and grabbed the soap gently applying it to your hair and washing it. His hands moving against your head gently. His finger nails grazing your scalp. You couldn't help but hum in satisfaction. The tense feeling that had been resting on your shoulders leaving you. Nanami then rinsed your hair and grabbed conditioner (or the different hair products you use) and apply them to your hair. He reached over for the the body wash and a soft bath sponge, running it over your body, cleaning you gently. "Are you willing to tell me what happened?" He asked you gently, breaking the silence. If he had asked you before you probably would have tensed up and said no. Yet the way he's taking care of you. The way he's touching you so gently and soothing you. And then you turned your head to him. His eyes were looking gently at you. He had a small relaxed smile. His shirt slightly wet from the water and soap. Soap suds covering his hands and arm. Your heart could only swell, swell with so much love for this man. You sighed softly in relief. Relief that you had someone so loving by your side. You agreed and let out all your pent up stress.

You rant, rant about every single issue, even the smallest. Everything that's been weighing you down. Nanami listened, listened to you full on. He didn't interrupt you. He didn't say anything, he didn't judge. He knew he wasn't really one to suggest something. After all he has his own issues. Some may even relate to yours. So he offers you his attention and his full self. When you finished he had rinsed you of all the suds, leaving you clean. Nanami's voice then broke the silence " You know I won't tell you to do anything specifically. I won't pressure you to tell me your issues." He said gently as he moved to massage your shoulders.

You then thought for a bit confused of what he was talking about, then it clicked. The way you didn't bother texting him back fully, didn't bother explaining your situation to him. Didn't bother to search for his help. His gentle voice then breaks you out of your thoughts. "Yet I want to pressure you. It seems selfish but I want you to tell me everything. Whenever something like this happens. When you feel like everything is falling on top of you. Because if I'm not here to take care of you, to listen to you, to hold you when you're most vulnerable. I don't know what I should be doing instead." He said to you, his eyes showed no lies and his voice was only speaking the truth. His hands gently holding the sides of your head as he pressed his forehead against your damp forehead. He then leaned in, his soft lips meeting yours. he held you carefully. As if you were the most precious thing on earth, no, in this entire universe.

You couldn't hold back anymore. tears spilled from your eyes, sobs escaped your lips, and you reached to hold onto his shirt with your wet hands. Nanami only leaned in. His shirt getting damp due to making contact with you but nonetheless he didn't care. He wanted to hold you, wanted to cherish you, wanted to make you feel seen. Once your cries died down and you eased down he pulled away slowly and gave a soft kiss to your forehead. "Stay here for a bit dear." He said softly against your forehead and parted from your grasp. You sat there in the tub for a bit. A small tint of red on your cheeks. You were grateful, so very grateful for having him. Thank you. You muttered softly to yourself. Although he wasn't there to hear you said it again. Thank you Nanami. You uttered softly and touched your lips with your fingers.

Minutes passed by and Nanami walked back in, his hair in a bit of a disarray. You raised a brow at the scene. "Sorry for taking so long." he said quickly and walked over to you. "What were you doing Kento?" You asked, confused on why he took so long. "Just arranged a few things." he said with a hum and grabbed a towel, helping you dry off as he picked you up from the tub. He carried you out of the bathroom and sat you down on your bedroom bed. He quickly wrapped you up with the towel, considering how cold it is outside, having just taken a bath doesn't help prevent a cold. "What do you want me to get you?" he asks as he walks towards your drawers and wardrobe. "Oh I have my sleep wear in the drawer and panties are also there." You said and avert your gaze. Nanami chuckled lightly at your response and pulled out a pair of gray sweatpants and a white shirt as well as your panties. You raised a brow, not noticing your bra. You were about to tell Nanami when he said , "I heard from a ad that they can be tedious and at times hurt to wear. Since we're going to be inside here just the two of us I thought it'd be good for you." he said and averted his gaze, slightly embarrassed. You could only smile at him. How can he be so shy when talking about these things when he was just touching my body earlier? You thought to yourself.

You take the clothes from his hand and start to dress yourself. Nanami then takes the towel and helps you dry your hair, he then picks up the brush from your nightstand and brushes out your hair. "Smells nice." He says with a soft hum. "Thanks to you Kento." You say quietly. Nanami smiles at your response and wraps his arms around your neck, pulling your body back to him. The back of your head rests against his damp shirt. He kissed the top of your head gently. "I changed your bedsheets dear, and the blankets. So go lay down. I'll clean up the rest." You look at him surprised. "So that's what you were doing." You say and smile up at him gently, you were about to protest saying that you should clean up and not him. But you remembered what he had said before and gave in. " Thank you." You murmur and kiss his arms that are wrapped around you neck. "Anytime." he says softly and kisses your cheek gently. "You should change your shirt Kento, you could catch a cold." You say and loosen his arms around you, you turn to face him. "Let me get you a shirt, if I can find one." You say and rummage through your closet not really finding anything for his bulky built. Nanami approaches you from behind and hugs you tightly. "How about, we sleep together after I clean up, we can warm one another up?" he ask as his fingers come to play with your hair strands, twirling them gently.

You nod your head. "I'll be waiting for you." You say and walk over to the bed, getting under the covers. You wait there, sitting on the bed looking at your room at how organized it looks now thanks to him. A small smile gracing your features. You waited patiently for Nanami and luckily didn't wait long. After all you knew Nanami worked efficiently and fast. So it wasn't long until he finally walked over to you. He took off his damp buttoned up shirt, placing it on a chair for it to dry. You looked up and smiled at the sight of Nanami. You then moved over and pulled the covers, making space for Nanami. Nanami climbed in, laying down next to you. He scooped you in his arms and pressed his face to the back of your neck. His arms wrapped around you gently as he held you carefully. "Thank you for letting me help you." Nanami murmured against your neck. You smiled at what he said. A flush covering you face and neck. Nanami feeling the warmth rise, he smiled fondly at you and then closed his eyes. "Thank you Nanami, sleep well." You mutter softly. Your eyes closed as well, sleep soon overtaking both of you. The warmth of your bodies combining, The blankets protecting you two, holding you together as one.