anon asked:
“ May I request a smut pretty pleasee. maybe one where the reader and ukai are roommates and there’s a lot of sexual tension between them? then one day reader isn’t wearing a bra and he notices she has nipple piercings and just b o o m b o n e r and ummm take it from there however you’d like if you write it 😄💞💗💞💗💞💕💝 “
who: keishin ukai x f!reader
genre: smut (with plot!)
wc: 5k+
warnings/tags: nsfw content, blowjob, deepthroating, nipple piercings, very slight pain play, roommates au, cum eating
a/n: the way i fell in love with this idea?? tysm anon omg
“God, fuck, yes, just like that!” You moan as Ukai pounds into you with abandon, hips snapping to a metronome going too fast for you to keep track of. You’re practically drooling over the kitchen counter, which he has you bent over. He slaps your ass, grunting something akin to “coming,” then pulling out abruptly to flip you around. You automatically sink to your knees, mouth open and tongue out, a blank canvas for his cum to paint.
“You look so, so, good like that [name],” is the last thing you hear before your eyes slip shut and you feel the cool spray—
Was that laughter? What the hell?
You peel open your eyes only to flinch back once more, met with the unwelcomed spray of a water bottle.
“Ukai, you fucking piece of shit—!”
He isn’t listening to you, though, caught up in his own loud, unabashed laughter. “You—You looked so fucking stupid, [name]!” He manages between the quakings of his chest.
Your mind immediately goes to the dream, still fresh in your mind. You blanch, opening your mouth only for nothing to come out.
Thankfully, Ukai is still doubled over in hysterics, hopefully not noticing the heating of your cheeks. You hug your duvet to your chest despite being clad in your pajamas—a t-shirt and shorts—which your roommate has seen you in plenty of times before.
“You’re laughing as if you don’t snore like a fucking train every night,” you scoff, trying to pull off an air of annoyance. Either it works or Ukai is fortunately oblivious, because he finally straightens, taunting you with a feinted squeeze of the bottle trigger, which you yelp back at.
“Get out of my room, dickwad!” You shout after his already retreating—and cackling—figure. You grin to yourself as the pillow you chuck hits its target, the back of his stupid mop of hair. (Which you had imagined running your hands through, which you had imagined pulling as he fucked you senseless, which you had daydreamed—)
You really needed a cold shower… or three.
You’ve managed to pull yourself together after a brisk shower and a lecture to yourself in the mirror, walking into the shared kitchen space as if you hadn’t just had a wet dream about the very man standing at the stove.
“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he says, voice carrying across the dining table and to your ears. The hiss and sizzle—and smell—of bacon immediately catch your attention. You ignore his greeting, walking right up to him to peek over his shoulder at the stove.
“Hm, I guess this makes up for that shit you pulled,” you hum, gesturing offhandedly to the pink strips of fatty meat that crackle atop the griddle.
Ukai scoffs. “Who said this was for you? Make your own breakfast, dude,” he says with just enough sarcasm for you to roll your eyes at.
“Oi, oi, get back,” He interrupts, shoving you back with one of his arms. One of his chiseled limbs easily pushes you back against the island in the middle of the kitchen; it takes every fiber of willpower within you not to fall into another fantasy about his arms pinning yours against the wall—
“—burnt by the oil, dumbass!” You blink to bring yourself back to reality, the latter half of his reprimand reaching your ears.
“Whatever, old man,” you say, thankful your voice doesn’t shake as you saunter away. So what if you swing your hips just a tiny bit? It wasn’t like he was looking, right?
“F-For the last time, [name], we’re the same age!” He calls after you. Back still turned to him, you smile, only humming as if you hadn’t heard him. You didn’t miss that stutter—your smile only widens as you bend over, flipping your hair so you can gather it into a ponytail with the band on your wrist (stolen from Ukai himself, of course).
The kitchen is silent for a minute, save for the quiet sizz of the bacon, which is probably burnt by now. You take your time standing back upright, practically feeling the burning gaze glued to your ass.
You turn back to him, placing one hand on the wall in mock instability.
“Geez, I need to start taking my iron supplements again,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose, feigning dizziness.
Maybe if Ukai hadn’t been so distracted by the curve of your butt, he would have seen right through your glaringly transparent excuse. But the pink dusted across his nose tells you that there’s no chance he’s going to snark back now after the little show you put on for him.
You relish in your smugness for a second longer, then make your way back to your room to get ready for work, making sure to take the… scenic route.
Thank god Ukai’s car isn’t in the driveway when you pull in, because you’re sure you would have scraped it with yours, one of your hands on the steering wheel and the other holding the phone up to your mouth. Your car parks slightly on his side of the driveway, but you don’t have the patience nor the will to adjust your car right now. You hastily throw the car into park to free up your steering hand, rubbing it down your face.
“No, listen,” you sigh for the umpteenth time. “We need the poster prints shipped to the Miyagi locations, and the banner prints shipped to—” You bite back a groan of frustration as the client cuts you off yet again. In a burst of anger that you’ll probably regret later, you practically stab the screen of your phone to end the call. Powering it off, you toss the offending device into the passenger seat. You grip the top of the steering wheel with both hands, letting your forehead rest against the backs of your knuckles.
After a much-needed pause and some frustrated screaming—the kind saved for your car and your car only—you take one last deep sigh, collecting your phone and bag and head inside.
The empty apartment is both a reassuring and slightly disappointing sight. Disappointing in the respect that you really wouldn’t mind some company—specifically, blond and hot as fuck company named Ukai—right now, but the fact that you’ll get to have at least a few hours free from your intrusive thoughts about having sex your flatmate is reassuring.
Your bag finds its home someplace beside the door and your shoes meet a similar fate, tossed somewhere amongst the mess of you and Ukai’s belongings. You could have organized the messy shoe rack long ago, but that would mean one less opportunity to bend over in front of Ukai—under the guise of looking for that one pair of shoes, of course.
You’ve sunken into the couch cushions within seconds, tensing then relaxing your entire body in order to relieve some of the tension. It doesn’t quite do the trick, though, but you know what will. With a reach around your back and a few odd maneuvers you’d mastered with practice, the band around your chest releases its tension and your bra straps slip out of either sleeve. One final tug and—ah, that’s more like it. You toss the garment away, settling into your newfound comfort with a content smile.
You really pitied people who didn’t wear bras; they’d never experience the extraordinary feeling that was taking one off after a long and hard day. Stretching your arms over your head, you yawn, the day’s strain beginning to take its toll on you.
Before you know it, your head is meeting the couch cushions and your eyes slip shut as your body gladly succumbs to sleep.
You’re awoken by a weight on your chest and a loud sigh, a yelp escaping your lips on instinct. An equally surprised squawk comes from the heaviness trying to settle on top of your body—and you realize that said weight is actually one Ukai Keishin.
“[Name], holy shit, I didn’t see you there,” he mutters, shoving your legs aside as he speaks to make room for himself on the couch. You grumble in annoyance, still too groggy to form a retort but irritated nonetheless.
You rub your eyes, noticing that the windows have gone dark and that the living room is just as lacking in illumination. The lights are still off, meaning Ukai probably just got home. Still, you didn’t like being sat on in the middle of a nap.
“The fuck were you doing sitting in the dark, Ukai?” You ask, pulling your body up into a sitting position to squint at him. You have to blink a few times for the sleepy fog to clear your head, so maybe the glances down to your chest are imagined.
“The fuck are you doing napping on the couch, [name]?” He retorts, rolling his eyes. He puts his feet up onto the coffee table and reaches for the remote, turning on the TV.
“I pay half of the bills, so I can nap on this couch if I want, thanks. And I should be able to do so without being sat on,” you grumble, getting up to turn on the lights.
He only scoffs, ignoring you. You hear the shuffling of his body against the couch as you turn to walk over to the wall—that fucker was taking your spot, wasn’t he?
Your eyes adjust to the lights within a matter of seconds, allowing you to narrow your glare on Ukai as you turn back to him.
“Oi, I was there first!” You call, moving to stand in front of his view of the evening news. He pointedly trains his gaze on the screen, pretending to not hear you.
“Hm, what was that, [name]?”
“Did you hear about that celebrity that went—”
“Ukai, I actually had a shitty day, so could you just haul ass already?” You place your hands on your hips, lips pursed. You know you’re probably overreacting a bit, but your frustration from work had to be taken out somewhere. You would end up apologizing anyway, as the two of you always did when your childish banter went too far. Ukai would snark back with something just as stupid, and things would be fine.
So that’s what you expect to happen—something along the lines of “Sure, sure, whatever,” or “‘Kay, if ya say so.” What you don’t expect is for his face to blanch then flush a deep red when he looks up at you, mouth opening for a sarcastic one-liner only for nothing to come out.
You furrow your brows, surprised. “…Ukai? Hey, you good?”