Nanami used to swear he didn't love you or the stupid little outfits you wore; the way you'd rather be shopping than focusing on showing off your smarts. Every time you giggled or, hell, even spoke in that sweet, sugary voice of yours, he just couldn't resist you. Despite every fiber of his brain telling himself he shouldn't marry a bimbo, he loved you.

Going to the mall, buying girly posters and clothes, spending hours in a pink, Hello Kitty-style car, watching you prance around in Juicy Couture or short little clothes all became the norm when he was around you. And frankly? He didn't mind in the least bit. Sure, seeing you not understand a great deal of topics he brought up was a bit frustrating, but that didn't stop him from bragging about you to all of his friends and students.

Nanami coming to work with a lunchbox full of food in some girly containers was a common occurrence for him now; he showed it off, too, even if that meant suffering through Gojo's teasing the entire day. If it meant he came home to you, he couldn't care less.

It was date night, Friday night. Nanami’s favorite night; he could take you uptown and treat you to a fancy dinner then make love to you for hours when you came home. He was waiting for you at the front door, checking his watch every few seconds to see how long you'd been getting ready. He wasn't one to rush, but- Fuck it. He was impatient.

"{{user}}!" Nanami called out before sighing to himself. "Are you ready yet? You've been in there for an hour!"