mar's personal corner of the internet. a treasure trove of fan fiction, a mosaic of everything she loves, with anime (jujutsu kaisen, attack on titan) and typology (enneagram, mbti, psychosophy) predominating among her interests. please, knock before entering my universe, dear visitor. ପ(๑◞ ◟)
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spaniard 𓂅 she | her ྀ 21 dec • capricorn
౨ৎ spanish: native ﾉ catalan: native ﾉ english: C1
typology: INTP IEI LEVF 4w5 so/sx 495 (so4⁵>so9⁸>sx5⁴) rLUAI mel-sang.
kento nanami's love ‹𝟹
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Nanami was fast asleep, back towards you the only sound being his soft snores that feel up the empty and dark room. Well, almost dark. Your screen was dimly lit as you doom scrolled.
Instagram, TikTok, Pinterest—repeat. You weren’t tired although you promised your husband you’d atleast try to start getting some proper sleep.
You also complain about how unfair it is, how easy he can fall asleep. But you guess that’s just the perks of old age. You turn your sound up a bit as you scroll through reels. Not even five minutes later, Nanami’s up.
His eyebrows furrow as he adjusts his eyesight. “Honey.” His tired voice rings in your ear, you discard your phone elsewhere on the bed. “I tried, I can’t it’s hard for me to fall asleep quickly.” He lets out a huff before pulling you into his chest where you can his heartbeat.
“Maybe, if you reduced the time you spend on your phone before bed—“ he kisses the top of your head. “Then maybe you might be able to go to sleep.”
You let out a weary sigh, “I’ve tried that.” You can hear him scoff. “baby love, you tried it for two minutes and you went back on your phone. “Yeah.” You nod, “still effort.” You feel him shake from the vibration of his laughter. “A for effort.” He teases.
Nanami drapes the blanket over the two of you, His fingers find your cheeks and just your face in general. “Relax them, relax your face muscles.” Once he feels you relax, he then takes his hands off. “Now drop your shoulders.” You do as he says. “Why are you so tense, hm?” He asks through the process.
You let out a deep breath, “Am I tense?” he nods, “Relax your arms and exhale.” You obey, “good, look honey, you’re doing so good.” he whispers into your ear.
You smile against him. “Now this is gonna sound a little silly—“ his hands find your waist. “Imagine some peaceful scenery, where you’re at. Could be the beach, mountains, anywhere”
Your breath comes warm against his chest, “my girl.” he murmurs pressing one more kiss to your head. “my sleepy girl.”
sometimes I write what I want to experience and it’s sad because like 💔💔
olderbf!nanami who never rushes you, no matter how impatient you get. you’re standing in front of your closet, frustrated, pulling out dresses and tossing them onto the bed.
"i have nothing to wear," you groan. he’s sitting in the armchair by the window, his tie already loosened, watching you with that calm, steady gaze.
"we have forty-five minutes," he says, his voice low and even. "take your time."
you huff, turning to face him. "you’re always so patient. it’s annoying."
he smiles, small and fond. "i’ve waited forty years to find you. i can wait forty-five minutes for you to pick a dress."
olderbf!nanami who always makes sure you eat before you leave the house. you’re running late, your heels clicking on the kitchen floor as you grab your purse.
"we’re going to be late," you say, already halfway to the door.
he steps in front of you, a plate in his hand—toast with avocado, a soft-boiled egg, sliced fruit arranged neatly. "eat first."
you stare at him. "nanami, we don’t have time—"
"we have time," he interrupts gently, setting the plate on the counter. "you’re not leaving this house on an empty stomach. sit."
you sit. you always do. because when he looks at you like that—like taking care of you is the most important thing in the world—you can’t say no.
olderbf!nanami who never raises his voice, even when you’re being difficult. you’re arguing about something stupid—where to go for dinner, maybe, or whether you should cancel plans to stay in—and your voice is getting louder, your hands gesturing wildly.
he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you. "you’re not even listening!" you snap.
"i am," he says quietly. "i’m listening to every word. and when you’re done, we’ll talk about it calmly. like adults."
you deflate, your anger fizzling out. "you’re too kind to me," you mutter.
he steps forward, his hands finding your waist. "you’re worth the kindness."
olderbf!nanami who takes his time undressing you, like every layer is a gift he’s unwrapping. you’re in his bedroom, the lights dimmed, and you’re already reaching for his belt, impatient, wanting him now.
"slow down," he murmurs, catching your hands. "we have all night."
you pout. "i don’t want to wait."
he leans down, his lips brushing your ear. "i know, baby. i know. but i’m going to make you wait. because the longer i take, the better it’ll feel when i finally touch you." he undresses you slowly, his fingers working each button, each zipper, until you’re standing in front of him in nothing but your underwear. he steps back, his eyes raking over you. "beautiful," he says. "now lay down."
olderbf!nanami who eats you out like it’s a meditation, like he could spend hours between your thighs and never get bored. you’re on your back, your legs over his shoulders, and he’s taking his time, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes.
"n-nanami—please—" you gasp, your hands fisting the sheets. he looks up at you, his mouth glistening.
"patience," he says, his voice calm even as he slides two fingers inside you. "i’m going to make you cum. but i’m going to do it my way." he curls his fingers, finding that spot that makes your vision blur, his tongue circling your clit with agonizing precision.
you’re moaning, your hips rolling, but he holds you down with one hand on your stomach. "stay still," he orders gently. "let me take care of you."
olderbf!nanami who fucks you slow and deep, his hips rolling in a rhythm that has you seeing stars. you’re on your stomach, your face pressed into the pillow, and he’s behind you, his chest pressed to your back, his cock buried so deep you can barely breathe.
"nanami—h-harder!!—" you beg, trying to push back against him. he stills, his hand sliding up your spine to grip the back of your neck.
"no," he says, his voice firm but kind. "you take what i give you." he starts moving again, each thrust deliberate, each roll of his hips dragging against your walls in a way that makes you sob. "you feel that?" he murmurs against your ear. "that’s me. all of me. and you’re going to take every inch, just like this. until you can’t think about anything but how full you are."
olderbf!nanami who makes you ask for what you want, his voice low and commanding. you’re straddling him, his cock inside you, but he’s not moving.
he’s just watching you, his hands on your hips, his thumbs stroking your skin.
"p-please, i.... i can't—" you whimper, trying to roll your hips. he holds you still.
"use your words," he says. "tell me what you want."
"i-i want you to move," you gasp. "i want you to fuck me."
he smiles, small and satisfied. "good girl. now ask nicely."
you bite your lip, your face burning.
"please fuck me, nanami. please."
he rewards you with a slow thrust upward, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes you moan. "that’s it," he praises. "that's my girl."
olderbf!nanami who holds you after, his arms wrapped around you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. you’re lying on his chest, your body still trembling, your mind fuzzy with pleasure.
he’s stroking your hair, his lips pressed to the top of your head. "you did so well," he murmurs. "so beautiful. so perfect." you nuzzle closer, your eyes already drifting shut.
"you’re too good to me," you whisper. he kisses your forehead.
"no such thing. you deserve everything. and i’m going to give it to you for as long as you’ll let me."
olderbf!nanami who wakes you up in the morning with his mouth between your legs, because he’s not done taking care of you yet. you’re half-asleep, your body warm and heavy, when you feel his hands on your thighs, spreading you open.
"nanami—" you start, but then his tongue is on you, and you’re gasping, your hands flying to his hair. he looks up at you, his eyes dark.
"good morning," he says, his voice rough with sleep. "lay back. let me love you." and you do. because when nanami wants to be patient, you let him. every single time.
obessed with… nanami who never swears unless he sees/is around/generally perceives you
nanami's usually so serious and put together. he's the first one to pull a face when gojo makes a dirty joke in public or to mutter "language" under his breath when he hears his students accidentally swear out in pain. nanami prides himself on having control, on being dignified, on always being put together. he'll be burnt by a curse in one moment and sighing out "well that really hurt" the next.
gojo yells at him to just say "fuck" and get it out of his system. nanami never listens.
and then you walk in on an unassuming spring day. new teacher, billowing skirt in the wind, a folded book covering your eyes as you squint through the sunshine.
nanami's eating next to gojo, pretending to listen to gojo's infamous hour long ramblings, when the fork he's holding clatters on the table. the noise startles gojo, causing him to nearly fall off his chair (that he was leaning back towards with all his weight).
gojo's about to scold nanami, but then he sees how nanami's usually stoic eyes are softened, trailing after a certain somebody's figure (yours).
"holy sh..." is all nanami gets out before gojo's practically tackling him onto the floor in shock.
"DID YOU JUST SAY HOLY SHIT?"
nanami's cheeks burn bright red and he forces his fork back down towards his plate, hoping that you've passed too far down the courtyard to notice gojo's outburst.
"i said no such thing." he denies, but gojo's smirk only widns.
"but you almost did. all because of the new girl. ooohhhh you're in so much trouble i'm going to go tell principal yaga-"
nanami has to physically restrain himself from kicking gojo off his seat again in retaliation.
for better (or for worse), it turns out your classroom is right next to his. every morning, he has to watch your bright smile and perfectly laced bows hanging from your skirt twirl into the classroom next door. you smell like vanilla and cinnamon, your hands soft when you shake his politely. his breath catches in his throat and when he responds with his name, it comes out as more of a pained gasp than actual words.
but you don't seem to mind. if anything, you smile wider and say it's an honour to be teaching next to him.
the crush he has only gets bigger with each passing day, once you learn of his love for flat white coffee and almond crossaints. you leave a perfectly wrapped crossaint and carefully folded coffee cup on his desk each day, and in return, he brings you a new flower from the front yard.
it's a reference to that night you two ended up talking for two hours under the stars, when neither of you could sleep and ran into each other in the outdoor gardens.
he'd seen your fingers caress a lone daffodil and whispered to himself "jesus..." at the sight of your lone sillhoutte. face lit up by the moonlight, skirt brushing against the bare grass... every dip and curve perfect in the dark.
he's just glad none of his friends were around to hear him.
as gojo, being gojo, has made it his life's mission to let everyone at the school know that the impenetrable, perfect, all-so-professional nanami kento does, in fact, swear.
geto doesn't believe him, not until gojo purposefully trips nanami in the hallways and makes him bump into you. nanami's hands had to shoot out at the last second to steady you, and he'd turn bright red whilst bowing to you repeatedly to apologise. the moment you'd disappeared down the other side, nanami had snapped at gojo to "stop being a little shit." nanami might've been angry, but gojo just smiled wider, wiggling his eyebrows at geto, who just smirked at the sight.
shoko is the one person who needs the least amount of convincing, given that she's personally heard nanami swear to himself around the school multiple times whenever you're around.
you kneel down to pet a stray cat on school grounds?
"she's so... goddamn perfect."
you walk past his classroom and wink at him? he drops the hot coffee all over his hands.
"shit."
the one day in summer where you come to school in a sundress, all yellow and checkered and as bright as the sun, nanami stares at you for so long shoko has to elbow him on the side.
"dude, we're in a faculty meeting." she whispers, mostly amused and a bit annoyed.
"sorry, i, damn it, i don't know what's wrong with me." is all he can force out, cheeks warm and heart still fluttering.
she just hums, shaking her head sideways when you shoot her a glance, as if to silently ask: "everything alright with nanami?"
everyone - even the students - ends up having a bet on when he'll confess. perhaps the biggest bet of all is started by gojo, of when nanami will actually say the word "fuck" out loud.
nanami hears about the bet and to spite him, swears to himself not to let that specific cuss word slip out.
it's futile though, of course, when you kiss him for the first time.
it's pouring rain, water pelting against the roof and the streets surrounded by a sea of umbrellas. nanami's forgotten his umbrella at home, but the train station is at least a fifteen minute walk from the school. raising his bag over his head, he decides to just risk it, knowing that the rain probably won't let up until late at night.
he gets about a few steps out before the familiar scent of vanilla and cinnamon envelopes him.
"nanami!"
the edge of your umbrella pokes him on the side as you lift it ever so slightly, the yellow umbrella clearly too small to cover both of you. you're struggling to hold it over the both of you whilst zipping up your bag, so nanami takes it from your hand in one swoop, his fingers brushing against yours.
"you're headed to the train station, right?" you smile up at him, finally zipping up your bag and putting it behind you. he smiles too, low and shy.
"that'd be correct, yes."
"then let's go together! it's far too rainy to go without an umbrella."
"i'm not sure if this is big enough for the both of us."
"then i'll just have to stay extra close to you, hm?" you tease, linking your arm with his. he freezes for half a second, cheeks blushing bright red, before he nods mutely. the walk to the station is simultaneously the shortest and the longest trip of his life, and he's grateful that you're willing to fill the silence with funny stories of your students or of gojo. it's peaceful, until your umbrella nearly flies away with a harsh wind at the top of a bridge and you almost jump after it.
nanami's quick to pull you backwards with his left arm, pulling you right against his waist in an effort to secure you as the umbrella falls to the floor.
"careful."
the rain's pouring down, soaking both of your clothes and hair, but neither of you move. the air feels electrified, his fingers still grapsing your skin, when you blink up at him in awe. his eyes looks down towards your lips, and his throat bobs in anticipation.
"can i..."
he doesn't get to finish his sentence before you're the one to close the distance, warm lips moulding against his. even though the rain is cold as it splatters against his skin, his body feels it's on fire, skin prickling as your soft body curls and your vanilla scent washes over him. you pull away to catch your breath, but nanami just smiles and kisses you again, this time pushing your face up with his left hand and caressing your cheeks with his fingers.
it's soft and tender, but with a bit of force that makes you feel dizzy.
"we'll have missed the train for sure." you gasp, as nanami raises the umbrella over the two of you again to block the rain. you watch fondly as his eyes crinkle in a smile, raindrops dropping from his blonde locks.
The man that you are Kento Nanami. If you were real and I had to choose you’d be the man I’d choose for my kids. You’re just so handsome and beautiful, everything about you is just majestic. I LOVE YOU KENTOOOOO
