ꫂ᭪݁ >ᴗ< THE WAY NANAMI KENTO TAKES CARE OF HIS WIFE
pairing ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ nanami kento x reader
summary ˚⊱🪷⊰˚ nanami kento loves quietly but when his wife is pregnant, that love becomes something constant, precise, and something impossible to ignore.
nanami wakes before the sun rises, long before your alarm ever has the chance to ring.
he lies still for a moment, listening to the soft rhythm of your breathing, the quiet hum of the world outside your window, and the faint rustle of sheets as you shift in your sleep, but ever since you became pregnant, he’s become something else entirely.
alert, attuned, almost hyperaware of every small sound you make.
he turns onto his side and watches you for a moment. your face is relaxed, softened by sleep, and the early morning light paints your features in warm gold.
his hand drifts instinctively to your stomach, resting there with gentleness that surprises even him. he traces slow circles over the curve that grows a little more each week, his thumb brushing the same spot he always touches first.
you stir, eyes fluttering open, and he leans down to kiss your stomach before he kisses your forehead. he never explains why he does it in order, but he never misses it.
“you were uncomfortable last night” he murmurs, voice still rough with sleep. “you kept shifting”
you blink up at him, still sleepy. “you were awake?”
“i’m always awake when you’re not resting” he says it like it’s obvious, like it’s simply part of who he is now.
when you sit up, he adjusts your pillow without being asked. when you stand, he steadies you even though you insist you’re fine. when you walk to the bathroom, he listens for every step.
he doesn’t hover. he observes, quietly and constantly.
later that day, while he’s at work, you search his briefcase for a pen and find a small leather notebook tucked into a side pocket.
you open it, expecting work notes. instead, you find neat handwriting documenting your pregnancy with a tenderness that makes your chest tighten.
Week 14 — She prefers citrus in the morning. Week 17 — Back pain increases after sitting too long. Week 19 — She smiles more when the baby kicks. Week 21 — Avoid letting her carry groceries. Week 23 — She cried today. No clear reason. Hold her more.
you close the notebook gently and put it back exactly where you found it. when he comes home, he greets you with a soft kiss on the cheek and a hand that instinctively finds your belly.
you don’t mention the notebook, but you look at him differently and he notices.
in the kitchen one evening, a spoon slips from your hand and clatter to the floor. it’s nothing, just a tiny accident. but nanami is beside you in an instant, hand on your elbow, eyes scanning you like you’ve been hurt.
you laugh softly. “kento.. i’m pregnant, not fragile”
his jaw tightens, not in irritation, but in fear. “to me” he says quietly, “you’re both”
he picks up the spoon, washes it, dries it, and puts it away with movements that are too precise, too controlled.
you touch his arm, and he exhales like he’s been holding his breath.
he takes time off work for every doctors appointment. every single one. he sits beside you in the waiting room, one hand on your knee, the other holding your medical file because he insists on carrying it.
when the nurse calls your name, he stands quickly the chair legs scrape the floor.
inside the exam room, he’s silent. too silent.
his eyes track every movement the doctor makes. when the ultrasound wand touches your belly, he holds your hand with both of his.
the baby’s heartbeat fills the room, steady and strong, and nanami’s breath catches. he doesn’t cry, but his eyes shine, and he blinks too slowly, overwhelmed.
when the doctor leaves, he presses his forehead to your shoulder.
“i didn’t know i could feel this much” he whispers. you stroke his hair, and he stays like that for a long time.
that night, you shift in bed. just a small movement and nanami wakes instantly, hand on your belly, eyes wide and alert.
“nothing” you mumble, “just turning over”
he watches you for a moment, studying your face, your breathing, the way your hand rests on your stomach. then he pulls you gently into his arms, tucking you against his chest.
“i’ll hold you” he murmurs. “it’s easier for you to sleep that way”
you melt into him, falling asleep quickly.
he stays awake for another hour, listening to your breathing, brushing your hair back, whispering soft reassurances you don’t hear.
one late afternoon, your back aches and your feet are swollen, so you sink onto the couch with a sigh. nanami kneels in front of you, not beside you, but directly in front of you.
he takes your feet into his hands. his touch is gentle, almost reverent, as he massages them with slow, practiced movement.
“kento.. you don’t have to do that”
“i know” but he keeps going.
“kento” he finally looks up, and the look in his eyes steals your breath. it’s not simple affection. it’s devotion so deep it feels like gravity.
steady, unyielding, impossible to escape because you don’t want to.
“you’re carrying my child” he says softly, his hands still moving against your feet. “i should be the one kneeling”
he presses a kiss to your ankles. then your knee. then your belly. then your lips, all while going slow, tender and grateful.
nanami doesn’t smother you. he doesn’t control you. he simply loves you with a focus so intense it feels like a force of nature.
he memorises your cravings. he wakes up at every sound you make. he touches your belly like it’s the most sacred thing he’s ever known. he looks at you like you’re the center of his universe.
to nanami kento, devotion isn’t loud or dramatic.
it’s quiet, steady and absolute. and it grows every single day.
a/n 𑣲𝓳 this one was short! but i’m loving the husband! nanami posts, SO yk i had to make one, BUT i hope y’all enjoy, i’m not really great at making stories like these. so hopefully it’s good. see yall next time 🪐.
