Sukii

jjk~twenty~F~blk✊🏽

[sukiicoree]

Me and my friend beefing right now over this…WHO IS THE BETTER TOY?! Woody or buzz??

Who’s better?

Woody

Buzz

Voting ended onJun 1

[sukiicoree]

Hair down Nanami gon make me act up😩!! They really took away my husband too soon!

[touyxa]

"i watch jjk for the plot"

the plot:

[sadisticslut666]

Eiffel Tower w/ Higuruma and Nanami and no, we’re not talking about Paris

cw: explicit threesome, creampie, i felt horny pleez don’t judge me:3

Definition: The Eiffel Tower is classic threesome geometry: you on all fours (hands and knees), one pounding you from behind, the other kneeling/standing in front getting deepthroated.

The restaurant in Ginza is the kind of place Hiromi picks when he’s trying and, mostly failing, to pretend he’s not exhausted from another 14-hour day. You’re halfway through dessert, laughing at the way he’s dramatically narrating the latest courtroom disaster like it’s a true-crime podcast, when you feel someone stop at your table.

You look up. Nanami Kento. Blond hair still perfectly parted, suit still immaculate even at 10 p.m. Your stomach drops. Hiromi glances up too, then does a visible double-take. His tired eyes widen behind his glasses. “Kento?” “Hiromi?” Nanami’s voice is surprised. “I didn’t know you were in Ginza tonight.”

Hiromi stands immediately—old habit from college days, apparently and claps Nanami on the shoulder “It’s been—what, six years? Seven? Sit, sit. You remember—” He gestures to you, beaming like he’s just won the lottery.

Your mouth opens. Nothing comes out. Your goddamn ex-boyfriend who Hiromi had no idea you’d dated. Nanami’s gaze slides to you. Politely nodding, “Of course.”

“Well,” he says, clapping his hands once, “this is fantastic. Small world. Kento, you’re not busy, right? Come back to our place. Catch up properly.” You stare at him like he’s lost his mind. Nanami hesitates then nods once. “If it’s no trouble.” Hiromi reassures him, already signaling for the check. “Anything to catch up with an old friend, right? No trouble at all.”

You’re going to fkning murder him.

Arriving home, the apartment door clicks shut behind the three of you. Hiromi immediately heads for the kitchen, shedding his jacket over the back of a chair, “Whiskey orrr whiskey?” he calls without turning around. You drop your bag on the entry table with more force than necessary. Nanami stays near the door for a second longer than he needs to, loosening his tie with the same deliberate calm he used to use when he was about to end a long day by ending things with you.

“Whiskey’s fine,” Nanami says. Hiromi pours three glasses without asking if anyone wants ice. He hands one to Nanami first then you. You all sit. You take the couch. Nanami takes the armchair across from you. Hiromi perches on the arm of the couch next to you, close enough that his thigh presses against your shoulder.

“So.” He swirls the glass lazily. “Kento. Still doing the corporate bullshit. “Or did you finally tell them to fuck off like we talked about senior year?” Nanami smiles, “Still employed. Still billing hours. You?”

“Still losing cases I should win and winning ones I shouldn’t.” Hiromi shrugs. “Same shit. You remember that class I had to retake four damn times?” “Oh—yeah,” he says, motioning toward you with a small lift of his chin. “You were in it. Same section. Same professor. You used to finish the hypotheticals before Ikeda even finished reading the facts. I sat behind you every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Ikeda’s class. The one with the curved grading and the weekly hypotheticals that made half the section cry.” Hiromi clarifies. Nanami nods once. “That one.” Hiromi’s gaze snaps to you disbelieving, “You were in Ikeda’s morning section?”

You swallow. “Yeah.” staring into your whiskey like it might grow a mouth and save you.

Nanami continues, “We dated for a little over a year. Then I graduated early. Corporate offer came in. Timing didn’t work.” ‘GODFCKN DAMNIT KENTO why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut.’

Hiromi goes still. The room is so quiet you can hear the refrigerator hum. Hiromi takes a sip slowly. “You dated,” he repeats. Hiromi looks at you then sets his glass down with a soft clink. “So,” he says casually, “you two have history.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Hiromi—”

Hiromi lets out a short, incredulous laugh that has no humor in it. “I was in the afternoon section. Same professor. Same material. Same fucking hell. And you—” He points at you, then at Nanami, then back at you. “—were in the same goddamn classroom as him. Every Tuesday and Thursday. For a whole semester.” You open your mouth. Nothing helpful comes out. Nanami exhales through his nose—the same sound Hiromi makes. It’s uncanny. Hiromi’s eyes flick to you. “And then you met me.”

You glare. “You’re making this weird.” “I’m making it honest.” He leans back, arms crossed. “I mean, come on. My old college friend—who I haven’t seen in years—happens to be your ex. And neither of you thought to mention it until we’re all three sitting here.”

Nanami looks at you. “I thought you would have told him.” “I thought it was ancient history,” you mutter. Hiromi snorts. “Ancient history, sure. So, which one of us fucks you better?” Kento chokes on his drink, as you shoot your boyfriend a glare, “What has gotten into you?!”

“What’s gotten into me?” he echoes, “I don’t know—maybe the fact that my girlfriend’s ex is sitting in my living room, drinking my whiskey, and apparently sat behind her in the same goddamn Contracts class I used to come home and bitch about every single week. Maybe it’s the part where neither of you thought that was worth mentioning. Ever. Or maybe—” he tilts his head, eyes flicking between you and Nanami, “—it’s the part where I’m sitting here realizing the guy who used to steal my ramen and proofread my briefs is the same guy who used to fuck my girlfriend.”

Nanami sets his glass down carefully. “Hiromi,” he says gently, “That’s enough.” Hiromi’s laugh is bitter, “Is it? Because I’m just getting started.”

You stand up so fast the couch creaks. “Hiromi, stop.” He looks up at you angrily, “I’m not mad at you,” he says, “I am mad that you lied. For pulling this shit tonight. I’m mad that I invited him here like an idiot because I was happy to see an old friend. And I’m mad that—” He gestures vaguely at the three of you. “—this is happening. All of it.”

Nanami stands slowly. “I can go.” Hiromi’s head snaps toward him. “Sit the fuck down, Kento.”

Nanami doesn’t sit. He just stays standing, hands loose at his sides, waiting. Hiromi exhales, “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “That was out of line. The question. All of it.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t know how to process this without sounding like a jealous asshole.”

You soften despite yourself. “You’re not an asshole. You’re just… processing. Loudly.” He huffs a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. That tracks.”

Nanami goes to turn and leave, “I didn’t come here to cause problems,” he says. “And I’m not here to compete. If you want me to leave, I will. No hard feelings.” Hiromi studies him for a long beat. Then he looks at you again. “I don’t want either of you to leave.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his already wrecked hair. “You’re really gonna say that right now.”

You shrug, helpless. “It’s the truth.” He looks between you and Nanami like he’s weighing between jealousy, curiosity, maybe both and then his mouth curves into a smirk. “Alright then,” he says, sliding off the arm of the couch, settling properly beside you, one arm draping behind your shoulders, fingers brushing the nape of your neck as his eyes stay locked on Nanami.

“You still think about her?” Hiromi asks bluntly. Kento takes a sip before answering. “I don’t lie to myself about the past,” he says evenly. “Yes. Sometimes.”

Hiromi’s thumb strokes once against you, “And you?” He turns to you, voice dropping. “You still think about him?”

“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “Not like before. But… yeah.” Hiromi nods once, like that’s the permission he needed. He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Then go ahead and fuck him.” Your cough turns into a startled laugh. “Go on, baby. I know you want to.” He urges you again. You hesitate before softly saying, “Ken… come here.”

Hiromi shifts, pulling you back against his chest so you’re half in his lap, legs parting instinctively as Nanami sinks to one knee between them. Kento’s hands settle on your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up inch by inch while Hiromi mouths along the side of your neck, “Look at her,” Hiromi murmurs against your skin, “Isn’t she so pretty.”

Nanami’s thumbs trace slow circles higher, higher, until they brush the damp lace between your legs. You arch without meaning to, a soft moan slipping out. Hiromi hums approvingly, one hand sliding down to cup your breast through the dress, thumb flicking over the nipple until it pebbles.

Kento hooks his hand through your wet panties, shoving them aside. The first swipe of his tongue is slow, like he’s relearning every inch. You gasp, hips jerking, but Hiromi bands an arm around your waist, holding you still. “Easy, baby,” he soothes, even as his other hand works the zipper of your dress down. “Let him taste what he’s been missing.”

Nanami groans against you, his tongue circles your clit once, twice, then dips lower, lapping at your pussy. Hiromi’s already hard against your ass through his slacks. His arm tightens around you, holding you open, “Tell him how much you missed this,” Hiromi whispers, “Tell him, baby. He’s listening.”

You start trembling and whimpering, “I—I missed your mouth, Ken. The way you… fuck, the way you always knew exactly—” Nanami doesn’t let you finish—just doubles down, sucking gently on your clit until your thighs tremble. Hiromi finally gets your dress off your shoulders, baring your breasts to the cool air of the apartment. He rolls one nipple between his fingers, pinching just hard enough to make you whine.

“Look at him,” Hiromi orders, “Look at how much he wants this.” You do. Nanami’s eyes are half-lidded and focused, blond hair falling forward as he works you over with devastating patience. When he slides two fingers inside making you whimper, back bowing. Hiromi laughs softly, “There it is. That sound I love.”

He shifts behind you, freeing himself from his pants with one hand while the other keeps you pinned. His cock presses hot and heavy against your lower back as he strokes himself lazily, watching Nanami devour you. “Think you can take both of us?” Hiromi asks, lips at your ear. “Like we talked about that one night. Remember my pretty girl?” Your brain short-circuits. “Yes—fuck, yes.” Nanami pulls back just enough to speak, lips shiny. “Hell yes.”

Hiromi nods in agreenment, before pressing a kiss beneath your ear. “You heard him, sweetheart. He’s in.”

Nanami rises smoothly to his feet, shedding his jacket, The metallic clink is obscenely loud in the quiet room. Hiromi helps you turn, maneuvering you until you’re facing the back of the couch, knees sinking into the cushions, ass presented. “Hands here,” Hiromi murmurs, guiding your palms to the backrest. “Keep them there unless one of us says otherwise.” You nod, breath hitching.

He walks around behind you, slapping your ass as Kento appears in front of you. “Hi, pretty girl.” He tips your chin up with two fingers. “Open.” You do, tongue flat, and he slides in slow—filling your mouth inch by inch until your lips stretch around him. The weight of him on your tongue makes you moan around the shaft; he exhales sharply through his nose, hand sliding into your hair to guide the rhythm.

Behind you, Hiromi lines up, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave prints, the other spreading you open. He pushes in with one long, steady thrust, your back arching with a muffled cry vibrating around Kento's cock.

“Fuck,” Higuruma rasps, “So tight after all that arguing earlier. You were waiting for this, weren’t you?” You can’t answer—mouth full—but you push back against him, clenching deliberately. He groans, hips snapping forward harder, setting a brutal pace that rocks you onto Nanami’s length.

His control slips a fraction. Hiromi’s thrusts drive you forward forcing more of Nanami’s cock past your lips until the head bumps the back of your throat. You gag softly, eyes watering, swirling your tongue under the ridge just the way you remember he liked. The two of them find rhythm without speaking: one pulls out as the other pushes in, seesawing you between them until your whole body is shaking.

“Goddamn,” Hiromi growls, fingers digging deeper into your hips as he watches the way your throat works around Nanami. “Look at that. Taking him like you never forgot how.” He begins thrusting deeper, balls slapping against you with every snap. You whine around Nanami’s cock—drool slipping down your chin—as Higuruma angles just right. Kento tightens his grip in your hair, fucking your mouth while Higuruma rails you. Nanami pulls out just enough to let you gasp, strings of spit connecting your lips to his tip. “Words,” he says calmly. “Tell us how it feels, baby.”

You manage a whimpered, “F-fuck—full—don’t stop—” Higuruma’s rhythm stutters at your voice. They sync up—Higuruma slamming deep from behind, Nanami sliding back into your mouth. The position holds: you bridged between them, body rocking with every thrust, throat and cunt stuffed. Nanami’s thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that slipped free when you took him especially deep. “Still so good at this. Always were.”

Hiromi laughs possessively, “Yeah? Tell me something I don’t know, Kento.”

Nanami’s eyes flick to Hiromi over the top of your head, “She used to come untouched just from sucking me off,” he says, “First time it happened she cried—thought something was wrong with her. Took me half an hour of coaxing to get her to admit how close she was.”

Hiromi’s thrusts turned punishing, that comment clearly hit a nerve. “Is that right?” Hiromi rasps, one hand sliding up your spine to fist lightly in your hair, tilting your head back so Nanami can sink even deeper. “You never told me that, baby. Keeping secrets from me now?”

You can’t answer—mouth too full, throat working frantically—but your body does: a fresh gush of wetness before you come first shaking hard, muffled screams around Kento as your walls flutter and clamp down on Hiromi as his pace turns erratic. “Fuck—fuck, that’s it—squeeze me just like that—”

Nanami pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop, hand stroking himself fast, eyes locked on your wrecked expression. “Where do you want it?” he asks, voice strained. You don’t even have to think. “On me,” you rasp, voice hoarse. “Both of you.”

Hiromi swears viciously as he pulls out at the last second, flips you onto your back so fast the room spins, then straddles your hips. They stroke themselves in tandem—Hiromi’s hand flying over his cock, Nanami’s slower but no less desperate—until they both come.

Hiromi comes first, hot stripes painting your stomach, your breasts, one pulse landing across your nipple. Nanami follows seconds later, spilling over your chest, your collarbone, a few drops catching your chin when you tilt your head back for him. Hiromi exhales roughly, dropping down beside you, pulling you half into his lap before reaches for the throw blanket on the back of the couch and drapes it gently over your lower half.

Hiromi snorts softly. “Ever the gentleman even when he’s fucked my girlfriend. Classic Kento.” Nanami’s mouth quirks—just the tiniest hint of a smile. “Someone has to be.”

You laugh, weak and shaky, head lolling against Hiromi’s shoulder. “You two are ridiculous.”

Nanami disappears into the hallway without a word, returning a minute later with a damp washcloth and a glass of water. Classic fuckin’ Kento, what a sweetie. He hands you the glass first. You take it with trembling fingers, sip slowly, grateful for the cool slide down your raw throat. Then he kneels again between your spread thighs and gently wipes the mess from your stomach, your breasts, your collarbones with slow careful strokes.

Hiromi watches the whole thing with half-lidded eyes, one arm still slung around your shoulders. “You always this sweet after you come on someone else’s girl, Kento?” Nanami doesn’t look up from his task. “Only when she asks nicely.”

You choke on a laugh that turns into a soft groan when the cloth brushes a particularly sensitive spot. “Stop. Both of you.” Hiromi smirks, reaches over to take the washcloth from Kento’s hand, and finishes the job himself dragging the damp fabric across your nipple until it pebbles again under the attention.

You look back up at Kento, about to ask him not to leave before Hiromi beats you to it. “You should stay,” he says, “Since it’s already so late y’know.”

Kento looks up, eyes flicking from Hiromi to you. You reach out before you can overthink it, fingers curling loosely around Nanami’s wrist. “Please,” you add softly. “Stay.” He brushes your hair to the side of your face, “Alright, of course. I’ll stay.”

Hiromi smirks lazily, already reaching for the half-empty whiskey glasses on the table. “Good. Because we’re not done catching up.” You bury your face in Hiromi’s neck to hide your blushing.

Whatta small world, indeed.

a/n: several pussy pleasure breaks were taken during the writing of this and I j wanted to share that ALSO credits to @owwllly for this masterpiece of art they drew

[ef-1]

Israel is bombing Iranian civilians and gleefully put out press release calling it a 'pre-emptive' attack while Iran has been negotiating for weeks. 'Pre-emptive' strikes don't exist in International law. International law doesn't exist either it seems. What exists is Israel, a made up terrorist limb of the cancerous American state and it feeds the capitalist appetite for blood and oil.

[thatsallitchief]

The twins! There’s nerdjo 🤭and then there’s fratjo too ig, I was really excited when i saw nerdjo trending so I grabbed the opportunity to draw him hehe

[ma0chi77]

wipp

[gojosbf]

Toji "the black sheep of zenin clan" Fushiguro

[sukiicoree]

Not Impressed, unfortunately|| Afterparty

Frat!Nanami x Reader (college au) CH.7 previous ch / Next ch

[SUM]~Nanami Kento is a rich, polished frat boy who’s never had to change for anyone—until y/n. A focused pre-med student with no patience for entitlement, she wants nothing to do with his money, status, or reputation. When Nanami realizes charm and wealth won’t win her over, he’s forced to confront who he is without them. As their worlds collide, both begin to discover sides of themselves they never expected—learning that growth, ambition, and love don’t always come from where you’re told to look.

[A/N]~ Sorry for the delay, but it's here now! I've been so busy with life and preparing for this damn "snow storm," apparently, so you guys stay warm and enjoy!

It’s been a long week. Classes are already starting to kick my ass, and we’re just getting back into classes. I already had pages due for my chem class. And an essay due in history. Although, on a lighter note, things with Kento are starting to get more…interesting.

It wasn't dramatic or anything, but ever since we met up at the beach, we started hanging out with each other more often. It was unnoticeable at first, but slowly he started bleeding into my daily routine. Studying turned into getting late-night ramen at the local 7/11, which turned into long walks back to the dorm that we didn't rush to end.

Some nights he was at my place, sitting at my desk with his glasses pushed up his nose, quietly correcting my flashcards when I got cocky about answers I only half knew. Other nights, I was laid up on his bed, legs kicked up in the air behind me as I did homework. He worked through practice problems at his desk, while a bit of music played in the back. The room was calm in a way that felt intimate, very settled.

We didn’t call it anything.

But we both knew.

There was an ease to it—comfort without complacency, attraction without pressure. He never rushed me. I never pulled away. Somewhere in between, we found a rhythm that felt intentional. Like choosing each other over and over without needing to announce it.

Even our friends started to notice Kento and me hanging out more often, and some of his frat brothers even knew me by name when I came around the frat house. Gojo always teased us when I walked up the stairs with him towards his room, as if he were some proud father or something. Kento hates it; I think it's funny. And of course Shoko knew about it, I mean, who else can I go to for advice?

So when the first big frat party of the semester at Kappa Theta Nu rolled around, it didn’t feel strange to go together.

By the time Shoko and I showed up fashionably late, the party was already in full swing. Gunna blasting on the speakers, fraternity girls dancing around with bottles in their hands, Frat boys flipping eachother upside down to do a keg. It was a mess, of course. Right in the center of it all was Gojo. He smiled big and walked over to us, shirt thrown over his shoulder with a beer in his hand. He looked sweaty but buzzed.

"Glad you babes showed up, was hoping to run into y'all two." Shoko and I laughed at Gojo and started talking before he mentioned Kento. "Oh your lover boy is over there in the kitchen, most likely waiting for you to show up," he chuckled. I rolled my eyes, but made my way over in that direction.

I stepped inside, scanning the room out of habit.

And then I saw him.

Kento stood near the kitchen, a backward cap pulled low, bare chest catching the light, khaki shorts sitting dangerously low on his hips. The sight of him like that—relaxed, confident, completely at home—hit me harder than I expected. Of course, there were some girls around him talking to him. I noticed he never pays them any mind. I didn't mind since, for one, he wasn't my boyfriend, but I also noticed how he wouldn't pay them any mind anyway, and that, for one, made me feel a flip in my stomach.

I guess I didn't catch how popular he was. Everyone calls him by his last name like that's some kind of power move. People greeted him easily. Slapped his shoulder. Laughed at whatever he said. Girls glanced his way openly, eyes lingering without shame. This wasn’t the quiet, early-morning Kento or the focused study partner I knew, but I liked this side just as much.

I guess he must've felt me in the room; his attention locked onto mine like a switch had been flipped, his expression softening immediately. The noise, the people, the room—none of it seemed to matter anymore. He crossed the space without hesitation, stopping just close enough that I smelt his aluring cologne.

“Took you long enough,” he said, voice low, teasing.

I smiled, rolling my eyes playfully. “What you missed me?”

His eyes dragged over me slowly, deliberately. “You have no idea.”

___

We didn’t stick to one place.

We danced, bodies brushing more than necessary, his hand resting comfortably at my waist like it had always belonged there. One of the frat guys came around passing out shots, Kento and I had a competition trying to see who can tap out first. -I did- laughter came easier tonight small inside jokes passed between us like we always knew each other. I was having a lot of fun with him.

People noticed.

Shoko caught my eye from across the room and raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. Geto leaned toward Gojo, murmuring something that made Gojo grin like he’d just confirmed a theory.

No one said anything.

They didn’t need to.

Kento stayed close. Too close to be accidental. His focus never wavered, even when someone tried to pull him into conversation. He always found his way back to me, fingers brushing my waist, leaning down to speak directly into my ear with that low sly tone so I could hear him over the music.

Eventually, we ended up tucked into a quieter corner of the house, half-shadowed and forgotten. The music still pulsing through the house.

I eyed the empty cups littered near his feet, then looked back up at him. “How many shots have you had now?” I asked, raising a brow. “Because I’m pretty sure you passed ‘functional’ like ten minutes ago.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, swaying just enough to give himself away. “Funny,” he said, eyes flicking to the cup in my hand. “You’re keeping up better than I expected.”

“I have a reputation to uphold,” I shot back, though the warmth buzzing through me said I was lying just a little.

We were both tipsy. Not gone—just loose enough that the space between us felt smaller than it should’ve been. His gaze lingered, dropping to my mouth before lifting again, like he was checking himself.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

It took me a second to realize what he meant.

He leaned in slowly, deliberately—close enough that I could feel his breath, close enough that I could pull away if I wanted to. He didn’t rush it. Didn’t trap me there.

He gave me the choice.

I didn’t move.

Then he kissed me.

His hands were on me, firm and grounding, pulling me closer like he’d been waiting for permission. When he kissed me it was with intention, slow and deep enough to make my breath hitch.

For a moment, the party disappeared completely.

“Come here,” he murmured, already guiding me away.

The bathroom was empty.

The door shut behind us, cutting the music down to a distant, muffled thrum. The silence felt loud somehow; charged. He didn’t hesitate this time. His mouth found mine again, the kiss sloppier now, less careful, all heat and impatience. Our teeth bumped. We laughed softly into it. Someone tugged at fabric. My fingers curling into his shirt, his hand tightening at my waist like he needed the grounding.

His kisses trailed lower, messier, lips brushing my jaw and my neck, lingering just long enough to make my head tilt back before he came back up to my mouth. My hands slid over his shoulders, gripping, pulling him closer without thinking.

At some point, he lifted me onto the counter, the movement easy despite the haze. His hands settled on my hips—firm, anchoring—thumbs pressing in like he wanted more than he was allowing himself. I could feel the restraint in it, the way his grip flexed and loosened like he was reminding himself where he was.

For a second, it almost tipped too far, his mouth hot against my skin, my fingers tugging at his shirt again, both of us breathing harder than we should have been.

And then he slowed.

The kisses softened, turning deliberate again, unhurried. His forehead rested briefly against mine, breath warm, grounding us both before he kissed me once more. Deep, slow, controlled.

Still messy. Still wanting.

But careful.

Still Kento.

Then the door opened.

I barely registered it at first, too caught up in the way Kento’s forehead rested against mine, the way his thumb brushed absently at my hip like he was grounding himself. Then a low chuckle cut through the haze.

“Well,” Geto said mildly.

My eyes flew open.

He stood there, leaning against the doorframe like he’d walked into a mildly interesting scene instead of catching us half-dressed and flushed in a frat bathroom. His eyes flicked between us, taking in the situation in one lazy glance. The corner of his mouth lifted.

“Don’t let me stop you,” he added, smirking.

“Oh my god,” I groaned and buried my head in Kento shoulder, face burning.

Nanami exhaled through his nose, clearly annoyed but not flustered. He straightened immediately, hands dropping from my waist like a switch had flipped.

“Get out,” he said flatly.

Geto laughed, already backing away. “Relax. I didn’t see anything.” He paused just long enough to add, “Well. I saw enough.” Then he closed the door behind him like nothing had happened.

Silence.

We stared at each other for half a second before I laughed, covering my face. “That was mortifying.”

Nanami shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “He’s never going to shut up about this.”

“Absolutely not.”

We took the hint. Straightened our clothes. Took a breath. When we stepped back into the party, it felt different. Not awkward. Just… charged. Like we’d crossed something we couldn’t uncross.

We stayed close for the rest of the night. Not hiding, not making a show of it either. Sitting together. Talking. Sharing water between drinks. His hand rested on my thigh when we found a couch, thumb tracing slow circles like he forgot anyone else existed.

The party was starting to wind down after another hour or two, they rounded up most of the extra people and kicked them out, making most of the freshmen’s clean up the place. I was sitting on the couch and noise started to blur together. My head felt heavy, limbs loose, that specific kind of drunk where everything felt warm and slow.

“I don’t think I should walk back to my dorm,” I admitted quietly.

Kento glanced down at me, immediately assessing. “You shouldn’t.”

I blinked and rubbed my nose bridge. “I should call a uber.”

“You’re not Ubering alone like this,” he said, already shaking his head. “Just… stay with me tonight.”

I hesitated for half a second. Then nodded. “Um…okay.”

His room was quiet compared to the rest of the house, lights low, sheets clean, everything neat in a way that felt very him. He handed me one of his shirts to sleep in and turned his back while I changed without me even asking.

We didn’t talk much after that. The night had drained us in the best way.

I lay beside him, facing away at first, unsure. Then I felt his arm slide around my waist, slow and careful, pulling me back against his chest.

“You okay?” he murmured.

“Yeah,” I whispered with a soft yawn.

He relaxed behind me, his chin resting lightly near my shoulder, breath even and warm. One hand stayed at my waist, fingers loosely curled like he trusted me not to disappear.

I drifted off like that. Safe. Held. No expectations pressing in.

Sometime in the night, I woke just enough to realize he’d pulled me closer, forehead pressed into my hair like it belonged there.

And for the first time, the thought didn’t scare me.

It felt right.

[A/N]~ next chapter definitely gonna be spicy!! I've been dying for it! Hopefully it's not cringy because writing smut is not my strong suit! But I won't half-ass anything, so I promise it'll be grand...hopefully. Until next time!

[sukiicoree]

Guys sorry for being MIA. I’ve recently just got into school so it’s been a bit challenging catching up with that and yk writing this, also I scrapped chapter 7 because I just hated it once I finished it, and I didn’t wanna give yall shit! SOOOO this week it’ll be out! Promise 🤭

[sukiicoree]

Not Impressed, unfortunately|| Low Tide

Frat!Nanami x Reader (college au) CH.6 previous ch / Next ch

[SUM]~Nanami Kento is a rich, polished frat boy who’s never had to change for anyone—until y/n. A focused pre-med student with no patience for entitlement, she wants nothing to do with his money, status, or reputation. When Nanami realizes charm and wealth won’t win her over, he’s forced to confront who he is without them. As their worlds collide, both begin to discover sides of themselves they never expected—learning that growth, ambition, and love don’t always come from where you’re told to look.

[A/N]~ working on chapter 7 as we speak, so be on the lookout for that soon. Anyway, enjoy. I didn't have much to say here.

Spring break was officially over, unfortunately. I was back in my dorm, half-unpacked, clothes spilling from an open duffel that I had yet to put up and away. The room smelled faintly like detergent and dust—familiar, comforting in a way only places you return to can be. Break always did that to me. Gave me just enough distance to remember who I was outside of school, then dropped me right back into it before I could miss it too much.

I folded a shirt absently and shoved it into a drawer that was already too full. Pre-med didn’t leave a lot of room for nostalgia. Between lectures, labs, exams, and the constant pressure to stay ahead, most days felt like I was sprinting toward something I couldn’t quite see yet. I loved it—I did—but loving something didn’t mean it didn’t take everything from you.

But ever since I went back home for break, seeing the beach was the one place I love, which really helped me remember who I was. The ocean had always been the one thing that gave something back.

Growing up, weekends meant early mornings and sandy shoes, gloves that never fit right, and trash bags heavier than they looked. It wasn’t a punishment. It wasn’t even framed as volunteering most of the time. It was just something you did when you lived near the water and cared enough to keep it clean. The shoreline felt permanent then. Endless. Like it would always be there waiting.

Before I got to college, I had joined a local cleanup group during the summer after high school. For a while, I was consistent. The summer was the active season, so I was there pretty much every weekend. Saturdays on the shore, sunburned and tired in the best way. Somewhere along the line, I started missing more weekends than I made. After starting college, most of my life outside of school faded. Not because I stopped caring—because I ran out of time. Exams bled into each other. Deadlines stacked. Sleep became optional.

Standing in my dorm now, I felt that familiar tug of guilt settle in my chest.

This Saturday, I decided, I’d go back. No excuses. No pushing it off for another weekend. Just me, the ocean, and the quiet satisfaction of doing something that felt right. Felt like home.

Spring break itself had been good—better than I expected. Home-cooked meals. Old friends. Long conversations that didn’t revolve around grades or career paths. Shoko had stayed exactly the same, flooding the group chat with voice notes, questionable girls she met at concerts, and FaceTime calls that made me laugh harder than I should’ve. Some things, at least, were consistent.

There was one little detail I didn't mention, though, not even to Shoko.

Kento.

We hadn’t talked constantly over break. No big gestures. No dramatic confessions. Just texts here and there—checking in, sharing small things about our home life, slipping into each other’s days without announcing it. I caught myself thinking about him more than I meant to. Wondering what he was doing. Replaying the way his voice sounded when he laughed, low and unexpected.

I wasn’t as guarded as I’d been before. Not fully open—but closer. Enough to surprise myself.

When I mentioned the beach cleanup to him, it was casual. Almost an afterthought. I didn’t expect him to care, let alone show up. Guys like him didn’t usually wake up early on a Saturday to pick trash out of sand.

He agreed without hesitation.

And for reasons I couldn’t fully explain yet, I kept that noted.

___

Before spring break, there was our group project for history class.

Weeks of late nights, shared documents, quiet tension, and an unspoken understanding that neither of us ever named. We turned it in together—double-checking citations, skimming through calculations one last time like the grade depended on willpower alone. When the results came back, we passed. Comfortably.

I remember the way he looked at me then—relieved, understated. Like success was something to acknowledge, not celebrate loudly.

“I owe you ice cream,” he’d said, with a playful smirk as we walked through campus. He said it so casually, like we hadn’t just survived academic hell. “Not a date. Just… congratulations.”

I laughed, surprised by how easily I agreed.

We ended up at a small place off campus. Nothing flashy. Soft lighting, chipped tables, the kind of place that smelled like sugar and warmth the second you walked in. It was supposed to be quick.

It wasn’t.

We talked longer than either of us planned to. About classes. About routines. About things that didn’t matter and things that did. Somewhere between spoonfuls and laughter, I learned he loved baked goods almost as much as I did. That he had strong opinions about croissants. That he preferred quiet cafés to bars. That there was a softness to him, people didn’t give him credit for. Or at least I didn't.

I didn’t think much of it at the time.

Then spring break came, and we went our separate ways—back home, back to familiar faces and old habits. I expected the distance to do what it usually did.

Instead of letting things just be how they were, I decided to take the risk and text him first.

That surprised me. It surprised him more.

One message turned into another. Then another. Nothing heavy. Nothing forced. Just easy conversation that slipped into my day like it belonged there. I caught myself smiling at my phone. He caught himself checking his more often than he’d admit.

By the time the break ended, something had shifted—quietly, neither of us noticed, even if we did, we didn't speak on it.

Back in the present, standing on the shoreline with gloves in my hands and the breeze tangling my hair, I almost forgot I’d mentioned the cleanup to him at all. It had been said casually, offhand, like so many other things.

So when I spotted him, I was surprised. He was standing there in his frat hoodie and some khaki shorts, a trash bag slung over his shoulder, and an expression unreadable but posture unmistakably his. I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

This guy really showed up.

The morning air was cool, the kind that crept under my hoodie and kissed my skin without asking permission. The ocean stretched out in front of us—gray-blue and restless, waves rolling in with a steady patience that always calmed me. I slipped on a pair of gloves, the familiar snap of latex grounding me in the moment.

I’d done this more times than I could count.

The group was small today. A handful of familiar faces, a few new ones. Quiet greetings, nods, the sound of trash bags being shaken open. No music. No announcements. Just people who really cared about our Planet.

And of course him.

Nanami stood a few feet away from me, already working. His sleeves were rolled up past his forearms, and I had to physically stop myself from staring. This was for a good cause, got dammit.

Veins traced along his arms, subtle but prominent as his muscles flexed with each movement—strong hands gripping the trash bag, fingers careful as he lifted debris from the sand. There was something unfairly attractive about it. About the quiet focus. About the way his body moved with intention rather than show.

I looked away quickly, pretending to adjust my gloves, heat creeping up my neck. Girl, get a grip.

For a split second, a stupid thought crossed my mind.

That maybe this was temporary. That tomorrow, he’d slide right back into the version of himself everyone expected him to be. That this—him, here—would be chalked up to curiosity.

I hated that the thought even crossed my mind.

We worked side by side for a while, the quiet between us easy. At one point, my bag tore, and before I could say anything, he was already holding his open for me—no comment, no pause. Like he’d just noticed.

He didn’t look out of place here. If anything, he looked… right. Grounded. Like this was exactly where he was supposed to be. And the fact that he’d shown up at all—early, no complaints, sleeves rolled like he planned to work—made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t want to examine too closely.

I told myself not to read into it.

But God, it was hard not to

I didn’t even remember telling him the details—just a passing comment in a text, something like I’m helping with a beach cleanup this weekend. No invitation. No pressure.

And yet.

“Hey,” I said, walking over, trying to sound casual.

He glanced up, expression softening just a little. “Morning.”

I watched him pick up a shard of glass, holding it up briefly before dropping it into the bag. “I'm surprised you came...you know you didn't have to come though, right?” I said.

“I wanted to,” he replied simply.

No explanation. No joke. Just honesty.

“So this must mean alot too you yea?” he said eventually, not looking at me. Still picking up more trash.

I nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been doing this since I was younger. With my family at first. Then with a group back home.” I hesitated, then added, “College just… got in the way.”

He hummed softly, thoughtful. “You came back to it.”

“Yeah, you're right.”

That earned me a small smile. Not the frat-house smirk. Something quieter. Something real.

At one point, someone from the group thanked him for coming out. Nanami responded politely, waved it off like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just spent his Saturday morning picking trash out of sand instead of sleeping in or partying.

I caught myself watching him more than I should have.

And somewhere between tying off another bag and wiping sweat from his brow, I realized something had changed. Not dramatically. Not all at once.

Just enough.

Later that night, I was sprawled on Shoko’s bed, shoes kicked off, recounting the entire thing while she sat cross-legged across from me, arms folded, a knowing look already forming.

“So,” she said slowly. “Let me get this straight.”

Here we go.

“You casually mention a beach cleanup. He shows up. Voluntarily. Picks up trash. Spends hours with you. Doesn’t complain. Doesn’t make it about himself.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Don’t.”

She leaned forward, eyes lit with victory. “I told you.”

“You told me nothing,” I muttered.

“I told you he was different,” she shot back. “But nooo, you were like he’s just a frat guy, Shoko.” She said, mocking my voice thowing a pillow at me.

I peeked at her through my fingers. trying not to laugh “I didn’t say it like that!”

“You absolutely did!”

I sighed, rolling onto my back. “i dont know why he even came....”

“But he did.”

That was the problem.

I stared up at the ceiling, heart doing that annoying thing again. “I think I might ion know...like him.”

Shoko grinned. “Finally. about time.”

I turned my head to look at her, rolling my eyes. “Don’t make this weird.”

“Oh, it’s already weird,” she said with a teasing chuckle. “You’re doomed. In the best way.”

I hated that maybe she was right.

[A/N]~ ok, so this took me a bit longer than expected, things have been a pain in the ass at work, and I think I'm coming down with something. 😵‍💫 but yea...Hope you enjoyed.

[sukiicoree]

Not Impressed, unfortunately||Kento

Frat!Nanami x Reader (college au) CH.5 previous ch / Next ch

[SUM]~Nanami Kento is a rich, polished frat boy who’s never had to change for anyone—until y/n. A focused pre-med student with no patience for entitlement, she wants nothing to do with his money, status, or reputation. When Nanami realizes charm and wealth won’t win her over, he’s forced to confront who he is without them. As their worlds collide, both begin to discover sides of themselves they never expected—learning that growth, ambition, and love don’t always come from where you’re told to look.

[A/N]~ Had to rush this a bit for you guys, ever since I came back from break ive been feeling so drained from work. UGH! but I'm coolin, thanks for the love!!

Nanami woke before the house did.

It wasn’t unusual. He preferred it that way—before the noise, before the chaos, before Gojo’s voice echoed down the hallways like a warning siren. The frat house was quiet at six in the morning, sunlight barely creeping through the tall windows, illuminating the mess everyone else pretended not to notice.

Red solo cups littered the tables from the last party. Empty kegs lined the hallway walls. And don’t get him started on the overflowing trash they’d decided to leave for the freshmen.

He followed his usual morning routine before heading to his room to lace up his running shoes. He liked to clear his mind before the day started. At this hour, most of the house was still asleep—passed out with someone or sprawled wherever they’d landed. Sleeping in felt unproductive.

Running helped him think. Not about feelings—he didn’t indulge in those—but about order. Control. Discipline. Things he understood.

By the time he returned, sweat clinging to his skin, the house had already begun to wake.

“Morning, Nanami!” one of the freshmen called out—wide-eyed, pink-haired, gawking like he’d just spotted a celebrity. Nanami didn’t know him well, but he was always cordial.

Nanami nodded once. Polite. Distant. “Yuji.”

In the kitchen, Gojo sat on the counter, sunglasses on indoors, already loud.

“Damn, Nanami actually runs for fun,” Gojo laughed. “We made protein shakes in your honor. Couldn’t let the most disciplined guy in the house come back to nothing.”

Nanami reached for a mug. “No thanks. You’re blocking the coffee,” he said with an exasperated sigh.

Gojo grinned but moved anyway. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

That was Kappa Theta Nu.

People saw chaos. Parties. Girls. Noise. And yes—there was plenty of that. But beneath it all was structure. Networking. Influence.

And they thrived on it.

___

Nanami was aware of his reputation.

He wasn’t naive enough to think otherwise.

You didn’t live in a frat house—especially this one—without acquiring one. Kappa Theta Nu had a certain image on campus: loud parties, open doors, pretty girls rotating in and out like background noise. Gojo leaned into it. Encouraged it. Marketed it.

Nanami existed within it.

People assumed things.

They always did.

He heard it in passing comments and half-whispered jokes, in the way eyes lingered a second too long. He heard it in the way girls spoke to him—expectant, playful, already halfway convinced they knew how the night would end. Sometimes, it bothered him how easy they thought he was, how quickly they threw themselves at him.

He rarely corrected them.

It wasn’t worth the effort.

In the frat house, rumors moved faster than alcohol. Someone slept with someone. Someone ghosted someone. Someone messed with someone else’s girl. By morning, the story was already distorted beyond recognition.

Nanami stayed out of most of it.

Not because he thought he was above it—but because he didn’t enjoy mess. Emotional or otherwise.

He didn’t sleep around recklessly. He didn’t collect bodies for the sake of numbers or chase validation in warm beds and half-remembered names. But he didn’t pretend to be innocent either.

He knew how to read a woman long before his hands ever touched her—how her breath changed when she was interested, how her posture softened when she felt safe, the subtle tension that begged to be unraveled. Nanami paid attention. He always had.

In bed, he was deliberate. Unrushed. A gentleman who understood that pleasure was something cultivated, not taken. He made women feel seen, wanted, steady beneath his touch. And when the moment called for it—when trust had been earned—he knew exactly how to let that control slip.

That balance was what separated him from the rest of the house. Discipline. Intention. Knowing when to hold back—and when not to.

Gojo introduced him to girls—not maliciously, not cruelly. Just casually. Like tossing a drink into someone’s hand and expecting them to take it. Most of the time, Nanami declined. Sometimes, he didn’t.

And when he did, people noticed. They noticed because Nanami didn’t chase. He didn’t brag. He didn’t linger.

People talked anyway. Ask anyone, and they’d swear he was sleeping with half the campus.

Like the blonde girl at the party—he hadn’t thought much of it at the time. A few weeks. Easy conversations. No depth. No expectations. When it ended, he let it. She hadn’t.

That wasn’t his fault, but he understood how it looked from the outside. Another frat guy. Another girl left confused. Another story whispered through group chats and snap stories.

He accepted that.

What bothered him was knowing she probably accepted it, too.

Y/N

Nanami had clocked it almost immediately—the narrowed eyes, the careful distance, the way she spoke like she was already prepared to be disappointed. Like she didn’t quite believe anything that came out of his mouth.

She’d categorized him.

Frat boy. Player. Temporary.

A hoe, if she was being honest with herself.

The thought didn’t offend him.

But it lingered.

He noticed it when she deflected compliments. When she bristled at flirtation. When she looked almost relieved to find proof that her assumptions were correct—like it spared her the trouble of hoping.

Nanami didn’t rush to disprove it.

Not because he couldn’t—but because forcing the issue felt wrong. She deserved space to come to her own conclusions, even if they painted him unfairly. Even if they placed him in a box he’d grown used to inhabiting.

Later that night, alone in his room while music thundered through the house below, Nanami stared at the ceiling and exhaled slowly.

He knew what people thought of him. The frat. The reputation. The assumptions.

Those had never bothered him before.

What unsettled him—what lingered far longer than it should have—was how much he cared whether she believed them too.

He wasn’t interested in convincing her of anything. Didn’t want to perform or plead or strip himself bare just to be understood.

But he hoped, quietly, that in time she’d see him as he was—measured, intentional, nothing like the careless version she seemed so determined to expect.

___

He hadn’t planned the kiss.

That was the part that bothered him most.

Nanami wasn’t impulsive by nature. Every decision he made was weighed, measured, filed away under consequence and intent. He didn’t touch people casually. Didn’t blur lines without reason.

But standing there with her—close enough to notice the hitch in her breathing—something shifted. Her eyes met his, wide and searching, and for a brief moment he saw it: the hesitation, the hope, the unspoken permission. As if she were waiting for him to decide first.

And for once, he went with his gut.

The kiss hadn’t been reckless. It had been quiet. Intentional. A risk taken not out of desire alone, but out of clarity. He wanted her to understand—without words—that he wasn’t playing at anything.

He hadn’t pushed. Hadn’t lingered longer than he should have. Just enough to leave the choice in her hands.

Nanami knew she was still on the fence. He could feel it in the way she pulled back, the way she guarded herself even as she leaned in.

And that was fine. He wasn’t in a hurry. If she needed time to decide what he was to her, he could give it.

What mattered was that the kiss had been honest.

Somewhere in that quiet moment, he realized he saw her differently now—more clearly. Not just as someone intriguing, but as someone he wanted to understand beyond first impressions. He wouldn’t let her know yet. He didn’t need to.

But he’d be paying attention.

Not a move. Not a conquest.

Just proof—quiet, deliberate—that he was willing to step forward first.

[A/N]~ oh em gee I'm glad I could get this out soon, this took me a min to come up with because I didn't really know how to loop it in, I had the idea but yk not the product. But I did it, and I think it came out well. But you guys are the judge of that. So let me know lol. Thank you, guys, so much for all the love for the series. I really appreciate it!

[sukiicoree]

Not Impressed, unfortunately || Thin Ice

Frat!Nanami x Reader (college au) CH.4 previous ch / next ch

[SUM]~Nanami Kento is a rich, polished frat boy who’s never had to change for anyone—until y/n. A focused pre-med student with no patience for entitlement, she wants nothing to do with his money, status, or reputation. When Nanami realizes charm and wealth won’t win her over, he’s forced to confront who he is without them. As their worlds collide, both begin to discover sides of themselves they never expected—learning that growth, ambition, and love don’t always come from where you’re told to look.

[A/N]~ nothing significant to say today. wanted to get this out before work... mainly because I get very busy during this time...and since this is just for fun i'm trying to put out alot so you guys won't be left for dead lol. But seriously i'll try to be consistent, promise!!

Time had passed.

Not enough for anything to really change—but enough for things to feel… different.

By now, it wasn’t even a question. Kento sat next to me in history every lecture, like it had become an unspoken agreement. He didn’t crowd me, didn’t lean too close, didn’t try too hard. If anything, he watched me carefully, like he was testing the temperature of the ice before stepping out too far.

I didn’t give him much. Neutral tone. Short answers. Guarded, but polite. I wasn’t cold—I just wasn’t letting him in. And I made sure it didn’t show.

He noticed.

The professor cleared his throat at the front of the lecture hall. “Alright, everyone. For your final exam, we’ll be doing a group project.”

A collective groan filled the room.

“You’ll be working in pairs,” the professor continued, unfazed. “Choose any college-level historical event. Research, analysis, presentation. I’ll post the rubric online.”

Chatter erupted immediately—students scrambling to lock down partners before the serious ones were taken.

I felt Kento shift beside me.

Slowly. Carefully. Like he didn’t want to spook me.

He leaned in just enough for only me to hear. “You want to be partners?”

I glanced at him. He wasn’t smirking. Wasn’t cocky. Just calm. Serious.

I considered it for half a second. Mostly because nearly everyone else had already paired up, and I didn’t feel like scrambling. I shrugged.

“Yeah,” I said. “Sure.”

The way his shoulders relaxed told me I’d made the right call.

___

A few hours later, I found myself standing in front of the Kappa Theta Nu frat house.

It was bigger than I expected—clean, modern, almost… intimidating. I’d heard Gojo was the president, and considering his last name was plastered on half the buildings around campus, it made sense. He wasn’t exactly subtle about his money.

I knocked.

Nanami answered the door wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweats, hair pushed back like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times. He looked relaxed. Comfortable.

“Glad you made it,” he said easily. “We had the freshmen clean up earlier. Gave them something to do.”

I hummed in response—not a huge fan of frats or hazing, but the place looked genuinely put together.

Inside, the house smelled faintly like coffee and cologne instead of stale beer. A few guys lounged around—some playing video games, others arguing loudly about sports.

It felt lived-in. Loud, but not chaotic.

“Nanami!”

Gojo appeared out of nowhere, grinning like he’d been waiting for this moment. “Ohhh, you brought her here already? Moving fast, huh?” He wiggled his brows with a shit-eating grin.

“We’re studying,” Nanami replied flatly.

“Uh-huh,” Gojo said, eyeing me dramatically. “Sure you are.”

I raised a brow. “Does he always do this?”

“Yes,” Nanami said. “Unfortunately.”

Gojo laughed. “Have fun, you two. Try not to be too loud—we still have freshmen downstairs, and I don’t want them traumatized.”

Then he disappeared as fast as he’d arrived.

“He’s insufferable,” Nanami muttered.

I smiled despite myself. “He seems fun.”

His room was… not what I expected.

Clean. Organized. A desk neatly arranged, books stacked properly, notes color-coded and labeled. A bookshelf lined with history, economics, and philosophy texts. Photos of him and the other frat members littered the wall—keg stands, stupid grins, frat letters proudly displayed.

I paused.

“…I didn’t know you liked to read.”

“Most people don’t,” he said, amused.

That tracked.

Studying with him was easy. Too easy.

Nanami was focused, sharp—already thinking ahead about structure and arguments. He spoke with clarity and confidence, like he genuinely cared about doing things well.

This wasn’t a persona.

This was him.

After a while, he leaned back slightly. “About the party.”

I shook my head. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said gently. “I handled it. With her. I just wanted you to know.”

I shrugged, tucking a curl behind my ear. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I don’t like leaving things unclear.”

I nodded and went back to the project. I didn't know what to say, but that mattered more than I expected.

Sometime later, when I stood to leave, he walked me downstairs to the front door, and we passed some of the other guys. It was pretty late at that point, so the house was quiet, honestly, seeing this place not in party mode felt weird...felt too real for my liking.

“Thanks for coming,” he said as he leaned on the doorway. “I think our project’s going to be good,” he said with an awkward boyish nod. he seemed...nervous, maybe?

“Yeah,” I replied. “Thanks for inviting me. I… enjoyed your company.” I smiled softly as I stood on the porch in front of him. I held my jacket in my hand tightly as I looked up at him, swaying slightly. something I do when I get nervous...didn't know why I felt butterflies in my stomach right now, but I did.

He smiled softly. “Me too.”

We lingered—too close. Too quiet. Too awkward.

Then he leaned in—not rushed, not demanding—giving me time to pull away.

I didn’t.

His hand cupped my cheek, rough but warm, and he kissed me. Soft. Gentle. Careful. When we pulled back, neither of us spoke.

“I’ll see you in class,” I murmured, trying to catch my breath as I turned walking down the stairs towards the dorm. "Yeah. See ya," he said, voice low and controlled, betraying his rapidly beating heart from the kiss. I felt his eyes on me as I walked off. I licked my bottom lip, still tasting his lips on mine. Fuck im in too deep now.

Outside, the cool air hit my face, and I finally breathed.

I couldn’t believe we’d kissed. I mean, Jesus Christ, how did I let myself get this wrapped up...betraying myself, I smiled a bit thinking about his soft lips on mine. I haven't kissed anyone in a while, so that was really...nice.

___

Back in my dorm, I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.

My room was soft and familiar—plants lining the windowsill, posters on the wall, a few anime figurines on my desk. Comfort.

I groaned, rolling onto my side and hugging my stuffed elephant. Been with me since I came to this school. If anybody knew the real me, it was him.

“You know he kissed me, right?” I muttered. “And yeah… I liked it.” I said quietly, like the damn thing can actually hear and comment.

My phone buzzed.

Shoko.

“We kissed,” I blurted before she could ask how it went.

Silence.

“You WHAT?”

I groaned. “Don’t yell.”

“You hate frat boys.”

“I know! I know. But I mean... he's really not like your typical frat boy, ya know? He's smart, attentive, and a really nice guy.” I said with a sigh. I couldn't believe I was defending him. I sounded like I was trying to convince myself more than her.

"I'm in too deep, huh?" I said in a defeated tone as I rolled over on my side.

She sighed. “You know I'll never lead you wrong, but ion know, maybe he is a good guy who just happens to be in a frat. I mean its not impossible. And from what I heard from Geto and Gojo, he's actually a good guy. You know, whatever decision you make ill be behind you one hundred percent.”

"Yeah, you're right...I shouldn't think too deeply on it i mean it's just a small little kiss...who cares." I said with a sigh.

After a pause, she said, “youre right, you shouldn't think too deeply on it, but! it's not just any kiss... You might have a bit of a crush.” She said with a small chuckle.

I rolled my eyes and let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Maybe...but I can't do crushes not until I pass med school, you know that," I said with an eye roll.

"look all I'm just saying is don't rule him out before you really get to know him...ok? Now go to bed, we have a study date tomorrow neither of us can miss." She said with a bit of a yawn. I agreed, telling her goodnight before hanging up.

As I drifted off, one thought stayed with me:

I wasn’t in love.

I wasn’t obsessed.

But I was curious. extremely curious.

And that was dangerous enough.

[A/N]~ still not much to say, but stay tuned! its definitely gonna get spicy soon. I'm definitely nervous about writing that...never wrote smut before, so we'll see how that goes lol. GOODNIGHT AMERICA <3

[sukiicoree]

Not impressed, Unfortunately ||Loose Ends

Frat!Nanami x Reader (college au) Ch.3 previous ch

[SUM]~Nanami Kento is a rich, polished frat boy who’s never had to change for anyone—until y/n. A focused pre-med student with no patience for entitlement, she wants nothing to do with his money, status, or reputation. When Nanami realizes charm and wealth won’t win her over, he’s forced to confront who he is without them. As their worlds collide, both begin to discover sides of themselves they never expected—learning that growth, ambition, and love don’t always come from where you’re told to look.

[A/N]~ Decided to write another chapter, you guys have been interacting with it and showing love, so I felt inspired. This one is longer than the other two, so let me know what you guys think! enjoy!!

As the test was passed back, I held my breath a little. All I needed to pass was an 85. I’d been studying my ass off all week—anything less and I was going to crash.

An 89. A damn 89. I thought a 90 at least. I barely passed. An 89 wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t good enough. Not for the hours I’d spent studying. Not for how much pressure I put on myself. I let out a heavy sigh, folding it up and shoving it in my bag. This wasn’t the end of my suffering anyway. I still had a study session with Shoko later this week, so I needed to focus on that.

The hallway felt too bright. Too loud. I exhaled slowly, trying to shake it off.

“Hey.”

I looked up—and of course, it was him.

"Hey," I said dryly. He seemed to immediately clock my energy. Kento leaned against the wall across the hall, backpack slung over one shoulder, expression softening the second he took me in. He didn’t smile this time.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Fine.”

He didn’t call me out on the lie. Instead, he nodded toward the door I’d just come out of.

“Exam?”

“Yeah. Got an 89,” I said as we walked out of the building through the campus grounds. His brow furrowed.

“That’s good.”

I shrugged and rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I mean, it is… but I don’t know… I’ve been studying all week, missing out on parties to be in the lab… and it’s just…" I sighed. "Annoying..."

He studied me for a second, then straightened. “Come study with me later. Coffee, quiet place. No pressure.”

The offer caught me off guard. Not flirty. Not smug. Just… genuine.

“I’m good,” I said after a moment. “Really.”

He accepted it without pushing—but then added, “Alright. Then at least come to a party tonight,” he said with a smirk, looking down at me.

“Kappa Theta Nu is having a bash tonight, and I’d love to have you grace us with your appearance.” He chuckled.

I blinked. “A party?”

“You look wound up,” he said plainly. “Might help you loosen up.”

I almost laughed. “You think that’s what I need?”

“I know it is,” he replied, lips twitching. “No expectations. Just… fun.”

I hesitated—then shook my head. “I’ll think about it.”

He smiled, satisfied. “That’s all I ask.”

I rolled my eyes as we stood near the dorms. "Well, I’ll see you around, Kento..." I said as I turned to walk off.

He called after me with a small smile. "You know, you’re the only person who calls me that, right…"

"That means anything?" I said with a raised brow, my voice a bit sassy.

He chuckled before turning away. "More than you think, princess."

I turned and let out a small smirk, heading inside… that guy was something else.

___

I shouldn’t have gone.

And yet—there I was.

Music thumped through the frat house, bass vibrating through the floors. Bodies packed wall to wall, red cups everywhere, laughter spilling into every room. Shoko grabbed my hand the second we walked in.

“THIS,” she shouted over the music, “is exactly what you needed.” She laughed as our bodies moved deeper into the crowd.

I let myself relax—just a little. Dancing, laughing, letting the noise drown out my thoughts. Someone handed me a drink. Then another.

For a moment, I forgot about grades. About pressure.

And then I saw him.

Nanami stood near the kitchen, shirtless, hair slightly damp, skin warm under the low lights. His chest was broad and solid, muscles flexing subtly with every move—defined pecs, a faint trail of sweat catching along his collarbone. A drink hung loosely in one hand, his posture relaxed, confident in that dangerous, effortless way. Definitely drunk. Maybe high. Fuckboy energy in full effect—and it was distracting how good he looked like this.

What I didn’t realize was that he’d already seen me.

From across the room, his attention had locked onto me the moment I started laughing, head thrown back, lights catching the curve of my face like I belonged there. For a second, everything else blurred—the music, the voices, the chaos. I looked unreal to him. Like a goddess dropped into his party by accident. Unbothered. Untouchable.

And for the first time that night, Nanami forgot how to look away.

Before I could say anything, a tall man with long dark hair and an amused smile appeared beside us, eyes flicking to Shoko first.

“Shoko?” he asked, clearly surprised.

She looked up, squinting for half a second before groaning. “Oh my god. Please don’t tell me you’re here too.”

“Geto, and of course I’m here, I’m part of the frat, duh,” he said easily, like they’d met a dozen times before. “Relax. Didn’t know you rolled with Kappa Theta Nu now.”

“I don’t,” Shoko replied flatly, then nodded toward me. “I’m just here with her.”

Geto’s gaze shifted to me, interest sharpening. Before he could say anything, a burst of laughter cut through the noise as a white-haired guy leaned over his shoulder.

“Wait—this her?” he said, grinning. “No way.”

I blinked. “Her…?”

Geto’s smile widened. “You must be f/n.”

My stomach flipped. “How do you know my name?”

“Because,” Geto said calmly, “Nanami hasn’t shut up about you all week.”

The white-haired guy snorted. “Which is insane, by the way. He never does that.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but all I could think was—he talked about me?

Nanami finally noticed us. His gaze locked onto mine—and everything else seemed to fade. He crossed the room slowly, red solo cup in hand, eyes dark, smile lazy. “You came.”

I swallowed. “You invited me.”

He leaned in just enough for me to smell alcohol and cologne. “Glad you said yes.”

For the first time, surrounded by noise and heat and him—I wondered if maybe I wasn’t as uninterested as I thought I was.

A slow smile tugged at his lips. “Come on.”

Before I could ask where, he was already guiding me through the crowd, a hand hovering at my lower back—not quite touching, but close enough to feel. I looked behind me to see if Shoko was ok with me leaving, but she just smiled. She wanted me to have fun anyway; she always talks about how I need a boyfriend, even though I don’t have time for that.

"She'll be fine. Gojo and Geto keep her company," he said with a smirk. We slipped through the back door and into the backyard, where the music was muffled and the air was cooler.

The pool glowed an electric blue, light rippling across the water and casting soft reflections against the walls. A few people lingered nearby with drinks in hand, but it was quieter back here—removed from the chaos inside. More private.

Nanami leaned against the railing, posture relaxed, eyes steady on me. “Better,” he said. “Hard to talk in there.”

I tilted my head, crossing my arms loosely. “You always steal people away from parties like this?”

A small smile curved his lips. “Only when they have my attention.”

That earned a look from me—one he didn’t miss. I took a step closer, just enough to feel the heat from him.

“Funny,” I said lightly. “Heard you’ve been talking about me.”

His brow lifted, amused. “Have I?”

“Apparently enough for your friends to recognize my name,” I continued, eyes searching his. “So now I’m curious.”

I shrugged, pretending I wasn’t. “What is it about me that’s got you so interested, Nanami?”

He leaned a little closer, enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him. “What is it about you?” he echoed, smirking. “Honestly…you’re not like anyone else I’ve met. Sharp. Unpredictable. Makes me actually pay attention instead of just skimming through the crowd.”

I blinked at him, caught off guard by how… sincere he sounded. My stomach did that stupid little flip.

Just then, the girl I didn’t know spotted us. Her heels clicked sharply across the patio as she cut through the remaining distance. “Kento!” she called, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Didn’t know you were busy.”

A cute blonde approached us with soft curls bouncing around her shoulders; she wore a tight black dress that hugged her body. Bright blue eyes seemed a little too calculating, and a mischievous smile hinted at trouble. She tilted her head when she saw us standing together.

Gojo had practically handed her to him as a way to get him to loosen up a couple of months ago, but it was clear he didn’t take her seriously. And she didn’t like that when he ghosted her. She's a pretty girl, but not his type. Now she was a little jealous that someone else had his attention.

Nanami straightened, shoulders back, still smirking but cool as ever. “Hey,” he said casually, holding up a hand like she wasn’t really bothering him.

Her eyes narrowed as she glanced at me, a little jealousy flashing across her features. “Oh…I see you have company…is this your cousin or something?” she asked, a raised brow obviously trying to be funny.

Nanami’s gaze flicked to her, sharp but calm. “No,” he said evenly, voice low. “She’s…not anyone you need to worry about.”

She laughed nervously, leaning closer. “Well, aren’t you going to introduce us properly?”

“I think you’re good,” he said, tilting his head slightly, eyes on me now. “I’d rather not entertain this.”

I took the cue. Rolling my eyes just slightly, I turned on my heel and walked back toward the house, leaving the two of them behind. Nanami didn’t stop me; he didn’t need to. I didn’t know who she was, but I could tell immediately… history.

I made my way back inside, past clusters of people dancing and drinking. Shoko was leaning against the wall near the stairs, casually smoking, and Geto was beside her, arms crossed, watching the crowd with his usual calm amusement. I slid into the space next to them, exhaling quietly.

I didn’t let it show, but I was annoyed—mostly at myself. Why did he get under my skin like that? Why did his words, that damn smirk, even bother me? I didn’t like it.

For the rest of the party, I stuck with my group. Laughed with Shoko, joked with Geto, even danced to a few songs with Gojo. Drank just enough to feel loose. And avoided Kento.

When I finally decided to leave, the house was even louder than before. I was halfway down the front steps when I heard my name.

“Wait.”

Nanami caught up to me, breath slightly uneven, expression serious now—like the drunk, careless frat persona had finally slipped.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

I shrugged, trying to make my annoyance casual. “It’s fine. It’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything,” I said, hoping that would shut him down.

He stepped closer, blocking my path just enough to make me pause. “It’s not,” he said firmly. “I didn’t bring you out there for that.”

I crossed my arms, voice sharp, eyes narrowing. “And why did you bring me, huh? So you can fuck me, and I end up like that girl? Seems like you do that a lot.”

His brow lifted, and for a second, I could see the flash of irritation cross his face. “Oh, so now I’m a hoe?” he said, low, calm, but with a teasing edge. “Listen, don’t misjudge me. That’s not who I am. I brought you because you’re interesting. Not because I want to hurt you.”

I blinked, taken aback. He wasn’t defensive—not really. Just annoyed that I had assumed the worst. And honestly…it made me feel even more off balance.

I crossed my arms tighter, glaring at him. “So…you bring me out here just to show off how good you are at handling some girl? Or were you hoping I’d be impressed?” I said, voice low, teasing, a little sharp.

Nanami’s eyes narrowed—not angry, just…calculated. “You’re really trying to start something, huh?” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t. I’m not the fussing type. Especially not for people I…take an interest in.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the honesty wrapped in that calm, infuriating tone. He had this way of shutting me down without ever raising his voice, and somehow it made me more aware of him than ever.

I let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Goodnight,” he said, nodding once, decisive. I started walking away.

He stayed on the frat porch, leaning lightly against the railing, watching me disappear down the steps. The music thumped behind us, but here, in this quiet moment, it felt like we were the only thing that existed in the world.

A few minutes later, Shoko emerged from the house, still buzzing from the party. “So…that happened,” she said, smirking as she fell into step beside me.

“Yeah,” I muttered, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “Let’s get back to the dorm before I start overthinking everything he just said.”

We walked in comfortable silence, the cool night air brushing against our faces. I stole a glance back toward the frat house once, then quickly forward again, trying to shove down the heat in my chest.

Shoko smirked. “So…he was being extra, huh? Careful—you might start liking that.”

Even after leaving, part of me knew tonight hadn’t ended—it had just…shifted. And somehow, I wasn’t entirely sure I hated it.

[A/N]~ Got this one out faster than I expected. I've been home on break, so I have time on my hands, unfortunately i do go back to work tomorrow, so the updates mostly like wont be this quick, but I'll try to get them out as fast as I can. Not sure how long this story will be, but I'm looking forward to it. If you guys have any notes or things you'd like to see in the near future, please comment! You guys are showing so much love, and I really appreciate it!

[sukiicoree]

Not Impressed, Unfortunately || Office Hours

Frat!Nanami x Reader (college au) CH.2 previous ch / Next chapter

[SUM]~Nanami Kento is a rich, polished frat boy who’s never had to change for anyone—until y/n. A focused pre-med student with no patience for entitlement, she wants nothing to do with his money, status, or reputation. When Nanami realizes charm and wealth won’t win her over, he’s forced to confront who he is without them. As their worlds collide, both begin to discover sides of themselves they never expected—learning that growth, ambition, and love don’t always come from where you’re told to look.

[A/N]~ another chapter, you guys were really fucking with the first one, and I had a lot of fun writing. More ideas have been buzzing in my head, so I decided to write another today. Mind you there pretty short, but of course, in the near future, it'll be longer when I finally get this writing thing down pack. But now! enjoy, I hope this one came out good lolz.

I didn’t think I’d see him again so soon.

The library was quiet in that way only mid-afternoon could be—low murmurs, keyboards clicking, the smell of burnt coffee lingering in the air. Shoko and I had claimed a corner table, our chemistry notes spread out between us like we were preparing for war. We’d been there for hours, and I was fucking losing it.

My hair was pulled up into a messy bun, hoodie halfway over my head as I tried to focus. Across from me, Shoko was working too, occasionally glancing up just to distract herself from the misery.

“I’m telling you,” she said, chewing on her pen, “this exam is going to be brutal.” “I know,” I groaned, rubbing my temples. “If I fail, I’m switching majors. Or countries.”

“That dramatic already?” she teased—then paused, her eyes flicking over my shoulder. “Isn’t that Ken? Kento, I mean. Kinda surprised seeing him here.” I followed her gaze, brow raising before I could stop myself.

It was him.

He looked… different. More studious. Glasses perched on his nose, a button-up with the sleeves rolled up, veins faintly visible as he reached for a textbook. No loud frat energy. No smug grin. Just quiet focus.

“Yeah, it is,” I said slowly. “We have history together. I think he was flirting with me.” I shrugged. “But I don’t know. He’s not really my… type.”

Unfortunately, before Shoko could respond, he noticed us. A small smirk crossed his face as he walked past—one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well, look who we have here,” he said, stopping at our table. “Mrs. History.” His voice was low, amused. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.” “Well, it is a public space,” I replied flatly. “What—are you actually here to do work?”

Shoko, clearly sensing the vibe, stood up almost immediately. “I’m gonna grab us some coffee,” she said quickly. “Be right back.”

Traitor.

When I looked back, Kento had already pulled out the chair across from me, sitting like he owned the place. Legs spread casually, eyes flicking over me in a way that made heat creep up my neck. “Chem?” he asked, nodding at my notes.

I hesitated. “…Yeah.” “Rough class,” he said. “Office hours saved me last semester.” That caught my attention. I looked up at him. “You actually go to office hours?”

He chuckled, shrugging slightly. “Contrary to popular belief, I do take school seriously.”

I studied him then. This version—calm, focused, almost… soft—didn’t match the guy who’d leaned into my space with cheap one-liners just days ago.

“You don’t really act like it,” I muttered, glancing back at my notes. He tilted his head. “And you don’t really act like someone who’d write me off so easily.”

Touché.

We sat in silence for a moment. Not awkward—just charged. Then he stood, sliding a small scrap of paper across the table toward me.

“My number,” he said simply. “In case you ever need help. With chem. Or… history.” I stared at it, then back up at him. “This you being persistent?” A small smile tugged at his lips. “This is me being patient.”

For the first time, I didn’t roll my eyes.

He walked off just as Shoko returned with coffee. “So,” she said, setting the cups down. “Are you two a thing or something? Thought you didn’t go for frat guys.”

“Absolutely not,” I replied quickly, grabbing my cup. “He’s not my type. Imagine.” Still, I folded the paper and slipped it into my bag.

“Besides,” I added, flipping through my flashcards, “I’ve got bigger things to worry about. Chapter five, section AB. If one glucose molecule is converted to pyruvate in the muscle and then converted back to glucose in the liver, what’s the net number of NTPs consumed?”

Shoko groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “Four… right?” “Correct,” I smiled. “Okay, that’s enough studying for today. Let’s not overdo it and forget everything before tomorrow.” She agreed, and we packed up soon after.

——

Walking back to my dorm, my mind wandered—against my will.

Kento. The glasses. The patience. The way he hadn’t pushed, hadn’t lingered longer than necessary. I stopped for a moment, digging into my bag. The paper was still there.

I stared at the number for a second longer than I should have before folding it back up.

Maybe—maybe—some things were worth taking the time for.

[A/N]~ like I said before, this is a slow burn, so it’ll be a minute before things get spicy?? The heat would be there, but they ain’t doing allat fucking before some real plot happens, ok? so yea let me know what you guys think, if I should continue this series or not!! I preciate the love from the last one, so I wanted to get this out ASAP!! Thank you again, you guys are superstars!

[sukiicoree]

Not impressed, unfortunately|| The Lecture

Frat!Nanami x Reader(college au) Next ch

[SUM]~ Nanami Kento is a rich, polished frat boy who’s never had to change for anyone—until y/n. A focused pre-med student with no patience for entitlement, she wants nothing to do with his money, status, or reputation. When Nanami realizes charm and wealth won’t win her over, he’s forced to confront who he is without them. As their worlds collide, both begin to discover sides of themselves they never expected—learning that growth, ambition, and love don’t always come from where you’re told to look.

[A/N]~ Ok still kinda new to this whole Tumblr world/ fanfic writing. I mainly wrote this to help me be more descriptive when writing and make my writing more in-depth. I know what I'm looking for in fics, but I guess I can't put it on paper...so here it is. Hopefully you enjoy...let me know what y'all think. Don't be rude Im not nice :)

The lecture hall buzzed with low chatter as students filed in, clutching notebooks and coffee cups. I slid into my usual seat by the window, hoping for a quiet morning of note-taking. Last night had been hell—staying up all night cramming for this ridiculously hard chemistry test. Hopefully, in a couple of years, all this school stuff will pay off. I let out a low sigh as I pulled out my notebook, ready for the professor to start.

Then, out of nowhere, a tall blonde guy plopped down right next to me. I glanced over and immediately recognized him. That hotshot Kento—I’d seen him around a few times, at parties or walking through campus. He looked like he had better things to do than be here. Typical frat guy. Grade-A asshole vibes.

I could feel his eyes on me, sizing me up—or maybe scouting his next target. Either way, I kept to myself. Every now and then, I caught a whiff of his cologne. Mahogany and beer. Heavy, intoxicating…annoyingly distracting.

Once the professor finally arrived, it seemed like his cue to talk to me. I felt a light tap on my shoulder from a pencil. I glanced at him, raising a brow with a “why are you talking to me?” expression.

“Yes…?” I said cautiously.

He grinned, leaning in just enough to not distract the class. “Hey…don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. What’s your name, gorgeous?”

I cringed at the pet name but decided to entertain his antics for now. “F/n,” I replied, still guarded.

He smirked and nodded. “F/n…pretty name. I’m Kento…Kento Nanami. I don’t suppose a beauty like you is single…am I right?”

He was bold. Very bold, with that stupid confident grin. Most people would’ve melted—or at least blushed. I, however, rolled my eyes and kept my focus on my notebook. “That’s cool and all, but I’m not interested,” I said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

He blinked, clearly thrown. Most girls didn’t turn him down. He raised a brow and let out a low chuckle. “Well then, F/n… I’ll respect that. Didn’t peg you as the snappy type, but nothing wrong with that. I like a challenge.” He returned to his work, though his eyes kept finding mine.

The lecture droned on, but he found every excuse to lean closer—offering to lend a pen, pretending he needed help with a note, or cracking quiet jokes only I could hear. Every attempt was subtle, clever, teasing—but I met each one with a mix of eye rolls, smirks, or polite refusal.

By the end of class, he looked over at me and shook his head. “I’ll make you laugh eventually. I’m persistent when I see something I like.”

Before I could reply with anything witty, he was up and leaving. I packed up slowly, a small sigh escaping me. This was going to be one long ass semester.

➽──────────────❥

[A/N]~ left off on a cliff hanger, mainly because I was thinking of making this a series, I kept this short to test the waters, plus it's 2am, and I'm tired lol. So if you guys have any ideas I can add or things to make it better, LMK!! im open to constructive criticism. Hope you guys enjoyed :)

[bee2124]

What my phone sees as I watch y/n do something mortifyingly embarrassing as shit and not being able to do anything about it