#this is an authentic reaction to witnessing nanami kento fanarts where he is in a black turtleneck

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

you walk into the room, mid-sentence about something entirely unimportant, and then—you see him.

nanami, standing near the mirror, adjusting the hem of a fitted black turtleneck.

your brain malfunctions.

your words die in your throat. your hands twitch at your sides. your vision blurs at the edges, because holy hell.

nanami notices the abrupt silence and glances at you, brow slightly raised. “what’s wrong?”

you inhale sharply, gripping the nearest surface for support. “you—” you point at him, dramatically, accusatorily. “what is this?”

he looks down at himself, then back at you, visibly confused. “a turtleneck?”

“a turtleneck,” you repeat in a strangled whisper, staring at him like he just walked off a high-end runway.

because he looks like he did. the sleek black fabric clings to his frame just right, highlighting the broad stretch of his shoulders, the trim fit of his waist. the sleeves are snug around his forearms, and the way the high collar frames his jawline—

you clutch your chest. “nanami.”

he blinks, tilting his head slightly. “yes?”

“you look illegal.”

his brows furrow, his lips parting like he’s about to argue, but you don’t give him the chance. you push off the counter, pacing the room as you wave your hands wildly.

“why did you never wear this before?!” you demand. “who allowed this?! why does it look so good?!”

nanami exhales through his nose, rubbing his temple. “you’re being dramatic.”

“am i?” you whirl around, pointing at him again. “do you see yourself right now? i feel like i need to sit down. no, actually, i need a moment of silence to process this.”

“you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, shaking his head, but the tips of his ears are pink.

you stomp closer, grabbing his arms, squeezing them through the sleeves. “oh my god,” you whisper, eyes wide. “this is life-changing.”

nanami sighs but doesn’t pull away, letting you fawn over him, his mouth twitching like he’s suppressing a smile. “if i knew this would be your reaction, i would’ve worn it sooner.”

“yes! you should have!” you shake him slightly. “this is unfair! i wasn’t prepared!”

he finally chuckles, deep and warm, and it makes your knees weak. “noted.”

“good,” you huff, pressing your forehead against his chest, defeated. “but you’re never allowed to wear this in public. ever.”

he hums, amused, resting a hand on your lower back. “and why’s that?”

you glare up at him. “because i will get arrested for public indecency when i start fighting people for looking at you.”

nanami sighs again, but there’s undeniable amusement in his expression as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“noted,” he murmurs.

you grip his arms tighter, as if grounding yourself, but it only makes things worse because—why are his arms so firm in this? why is the fabric hugging him like it was personally designed to make you lose your mind?

“nanami,” you breathe, eyes flickering between his face and his absurdly unfair physique. “i feel like i’m seeing you for the first time.”

he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “you see me every day.”

“not like this,” you argue, shaking your head as you run your hands up his arms, over his chest. “this is different. this is—this is criminal.”

he exhales, exasperated but undeniably amused. “it’s just a turtleneck.”

“just a turtleneck?” you gasp, stepping back like he’s offended you on a spiritual level. “nanami kento, you’re standing there looking like a—a millionaire assassin, or—or a mysterious stranger in a noir film.” you gesture wildly. “you could walk into a high-end bar and steal someone’s wife right now.”

he pinches the bridge of his nose. “why would i want to steal someone’s wife when i have you?”

your brain short-circuits for a second, but you recover quickly, smacking his chest. “don’t distract me with sweet talk! i’m still reeling!”

nanami sighs, stepping forward to pull you into his arms. his hands settle at your waist, fingers pressing into your sides in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“do you need to sit down?” he teases, voice low and warm.

you scowl up at him, but it holds no real heat. “yes, actually. i do. because if i look at you any longer, i might pass out.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “maybe you should get used to it. i was thinking of getting more.”

you audibly gasp, clutching at his shoulders. “you were?”

he hums, tilting his head slightly. “considering the… positive reaction, yes.”

you grip the front of his turtleneck, staring at him with pure adoration. “you would bless me like that?”

his lips twitch, eyes soft. “i would.”

you dramatically flop against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. “nanami kento, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

he chuckles, rubbing slow circles into your back. “all because of a turtleneck?”

“no,” you murmur, squeezing him tighter. “because you’re you.”

nanami goes quiet for a moment, then sighs, resting his chin on top of your head.

“… you’re impossible.” he mutters, but the warmth in his voice gives him away.