Sukii

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.

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.

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!!

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.

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.

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.

Frat!Nanami x Reader(college au) Next ch