Hey There, Roomie Ship: Roommate!Taehyung | Reader Description: The sexual tension between you and your roommate is finally acted upon. Warning: Masturbation, Exhibitionsm, Voyeurism, Humiliation, Dirty Talk, Sex Toy? Word Count: 2,111
What if humans are not terrifying and hideous because of our appearance or some weird habits we have, but because of a way more surprising thing we’ve never expected: Water. It is everywhere, and it’s normal, even essential for life on earth. Our body consists to a high percentage out of it, as well as the most of earth’s surface is covered in it. But let’s take a closer look on a scientific angle. Water is a good polar solvent, that dissolves many salines as well as organic molecules such as sugars and simple alcohols such as ethanol. Water also dissolves many gases, such as oxygen and carbon dioxide. Its combination of oxygen and hydrogen is able to corrode even metals within the span of only a few decades. And not only most acids dissolve in water to yield the corresponding anions, it‘s amphoteric,too, meaning itself can react both as an acid as well as a base. Water is scary as shit. We’ve never been contacted by another species nor will find another species because we search for planets with one of the most dangerous substances on it, and they ignore that deadly blue ball of pure hyper reactive elements with oxygen in its atmosphere and water on its surface because there will definitely no life on it. Until we accidently stumble upon each other anyway.
My favorite thing about that terrible quote about "rural white people have no culture" is it literally says white Americans don't have special wedding dresses when like... we have a style and color of wedding dress that is so culturally mandatory that they all look roughly the same and virtually every women has to wear it when she gets married and it's treated as so sacred that mothers sometimes pass it down to their daughters and you can never ever wear that dress except on your wedding day.
yeahh like the fact that the author of that quote is a white man who says he was born in a rural ohio town makes it really transparent that he was speaking from a “fish dont know water” angle
look me in the eyes and tell me Danny wouldn’t be on the swim team
He didn’t know that swimming is so much like flying. Gravity didn’t exist in the water as much as it did on the land. You could do flips and sink to the bottom or float to the top without even thinking about it.
The only problem is air. Humans need oxygen to survive, which is quite annoying at times. It’s something that Danny could definitely get along fine without, but his swimming coaches tended to try to rescue him if he stayed under for more than five minutes.
He swore he just had good lungs.
His teammates were nice, too. They wouldn’t replace Tucker or Sam in a million years, but at least they weren’t jealous of him or tried to shove him in a locker.
But actually swimming? It was like flying in a human body. The way how Danny cut through the water, his body angled so he’ll get less resistance and go much faster then should be possible at his age was amazing.
He never tried used his ghost powers in the water (Although he may have used his intangibility on some turns because he can’t control his instincts)
His coaches were scared of him. Danny didn’t realize it, but they stopped trying to save him the third time around he hung out longer than five minutes underwater.
Because whenever he’s under there his eyes glow a bright, unnatural green.
Danny Fenton was definitely not a normal student, and if he should drown the coaches would be relieved.
The text on the screen of your phone, stared back at you and you couldn’t help the spark that spread within your chest.
[2:33 a.m] Jimin: i keep thinking about you
It wasn’t explicit, but with him, it might as well have been. You knew there was that underlying meaning, he’d always be subtle at first. He didn’t fool you, not anymore. While on the surface, it was sweet but you could see him — you imagined what he was doing. And you did not need to imagine for too long.
[2:37 a.m] Jimin: IMG_019
At the sight of the image, you sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth. It didn’t seem like enough, air refusing to stay in your lungs for long. Heat rose up to your cheeks and your blanket was suddenly too much. Your fingers trembled under your phone, and the image left mouth watering.
The image was angled down, his shirt had obviously been discarded somewhere else and he laid, sprawled on his bed. His toned body welcoming you into a wander of thoughts, and the longer you stared, the harder it was to breathe. His plump bottom lip trapped between his teeth and all you wanted was to press your lips on his, or feel them on your skin. The angle allowed you to see how his boxers snuggled onto his hips and you swore you almost drooled when you saw it. The outline of his cock prominent, and his hand gripped the base of it. You instinctively pressed your thighs together.
[2:38 a.m] Jimin: cat got your tongue? ;)
You wanted him to stop, leave you alone, let you sleep.
[2:38 a.m] Jimin: god i just want to feel your mouth on my cock
[2:38 a.m] Jimin: you want that dont you? wouldnt you like that?
You rubbed your thighs together for some relief to no avail and a strangled fuck escaped your lips. You admitted, you wanted to see him squirm under you. His chest heaving, panting hard as you’d take his cock deep in your mouth —
But you had to stop, you couldn’t get ahead of yourself. You needed to stop letting your mind wander.
[2:39 a.m] You: i’m tryin to sleep jimin. go to sleep
You should have let him be, you should not have sent anything, and blinded yourself from your phone all together. A minute later, your phone was buzzing and his name flashed on screen and you debated on just letting it ring. But your body had a different resolve, and you answer with a hushed hello?
“Y/N,” he whined, like he was begging for something from you. His voice was breathless and his pants in between were audible. You bit down on your lower lip to keep your own gasp in.
“I’m trying to sleep, Jimin,” you repeated, but your voice betrayed you, shaking with each word. He groaned at the sound of your voice and your heart thumped loudly in your ears.
“I just want to hear your voice,” Jimin breathed, panted. “I’m so hard, baby girl, please.”
You could hear it, the desperation that laced his voice. His moans high pitched with each pant, slipping effortlessly past his lips. He whined, cursed under his breath as he worked his cock. He swirled his hand across his tip, spreading pre-cum on his palm to slick up his length. He squeezed his hand on his tip with each stroke. His chest heaved, trying to regain his breath. His tongue lapped at his lips.
“Jimin,” You whispered, pressing your thighs tighter against each other, and the whine that came from his end broke you. Your hand trailed down between your legs.
“Fuck, I want you on my cock,” Jimin whined. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Your fingers traced along the edge of your panties. The heat stretched through your body. “Oh? I thought you’d like it if I teased you at first.”
A straggled moan escaped his swollen lips before sucking in his bottom lip between his teeth. His other hand ran through the strands of his sweaty hair. He swore, breathlessly — “Fuck.”
You could picture him, the muscles of his stomach clenching. His mouth slacked with each passing moan and his lips. God, his lips would be bruised and swollen from biting them. You hissed through your teeth and your confidence struck you. “Imagine having me between your legs, kissing your stomach while I claw at your thighs, trying my best to ignore your cock. Or would you rather I bite your thighs, mark them up?”
Your core ached, hearing the whine from the other end. You slipped your fingers under your panties, and your fingertips finding your clit, brushing lightly against it. You couldn’t stop the moan that bursted out of you, and honestly, you didn’t want to. You wanted him to hear, to hear just how much you wanted his cock deep inside you. Your core ached for him, your whole body trembled the more your fingers worked you.
Jimin hummed once he heard you, chuckling breathlessly. His hand worked up his length faster. He managed to swallow through the pleasure enough to regain some composure — and sanity.
That’s when he muttered, through his panting — “Baby girl” and the sound following it, urged you to eagerly dip your fingers past your folds. You were dripping, but you didn’t need your fingers to tell you that. You could feel your wetness seep against your thighs since the first message he sent. Your fingers slid right in, easilywith no resistance and your mouth slacked with a gasp.
“I want you — you, just you. Your mouth on me. Your head between my legs, or your cock inside me,” you cursed as your palm ground against your clit. “Any way you want me, f-fuck — I just need you.”
Jimin’s hips jerked up into his hand, your words making his cock twitch in his palm. All he managed was the panting that dried at his lips. His jaw hung open and god, he wished it was your hand instead of his. There was nothing he didn’t want to do to you. But he didn’t know what he wanted first. He loved when you teased him, your mouth bobbing up and down his cock so slowly, enough to keep him on edge and your nails creating crescent moons on his thighs. But his mind wandered more, to his face between your thighs. His tongue digging deep into your arousal, making you more and more wet until it dripped down his chin. He wanted to watch you squirm, your hands clawing at the sheets until they’d find purchase in his hair. He need to see you writhe, back arched and begging for him.
“Fuck Y/N,” Jimin grunted, throwing his head back against his pillows. “I’m c-close.”
You hummed in approval at his words, his panting lulled you further and further towards your release. Your fingers vigorously pumped inside you and you could hear how wet you were, the lewd sound filled your room.Your fingers weren’t enough, no, they never were enough anymore. The more you desperately curled your fingers, the more that need for release grew but your fingers fell short. Your other hand travelled up your stomach until it reach your breast, kneading it roughly - twisting your nipple between your fingers. Your hips bucked against your palm and you panted his name out like a prayer.
“Ahh, fuck,” Jimin grunted, his hand quickening agains himself. Pre-cum leaked from his tip, coating his fingers with each pump. “Fuck, I bet you’d look great taking my cock. It’d fit perfectly inside of you. You’d be such a good girl and take all of it at once.”
You hiccuped at his words, your palm stuttering against your clit. All you could manage was an incoherent “yes” before a moan ripped out of you. He groaned “good girl” under his breath, and his voice sounded much deeper and that sparked through you. His whines came through more and more before his breath stopped completely, and you knew. He moaned out your name, his hips jerking into his hand - milking out his high and cum covering his stomach.
“J-Jimin, please,” you pleaded. “Please.”
He panted, heavily. trying to catch his breath before he repeated, “Please? Please what, baby girl, tell me. You haven’t said what you want.”
“You, Jimin, I want —“
“No, no no,” he cut you off. “Tell me.” You whined, pressing your lips together. “Be a good girl for me and use your words.”
“Jimin, please, I want to cum,” you begged, sounding desperate and you were, you needed this. Your fingers curled into the sheets, thighs trembled around your hand and hips continuing their desperate jerk against your hand. Your fingers curled in you, the knot in your stomach intensified. Jimin’s name spilled from your lips in small pleas.
“Good girl,” he groaned out, still breathless. “Keep going, don’t stop until you make a mess for me, okay? Just think it’s me, I know it’s not but pretend, think of my cock stretching you out. Fuck, I would be fucking you so hard into the mattress, just like you’d like. God, Y/N, cum right now. Do it, do it, do it.”
Perhaps it was his words or his voice, hoarse and worn out, that had your orgasm hitting you hard. Your thighs squeezed around your hand, back arched up from the sweat drenched sheets beneath you. His name was pulled out of you in a high moan, in a beg. White flashed behind your eyelids, the knot in your stomach snapped.
Your chest heaved heavily, and you were left absolutely soaked, hand dripping as you pulled out your fingers and mewled softly at the sensitivity. Your eyelids fluttering closed with blissful pleasure.
“Hey,” Jimin said, sheepishly. “You with me?”
“Mhm,” you hummed.
“You did well, baby girl,” he chuckled. “Go to sleep, okay? Sweet dreams, Y/N.”
So being the Food Network addict that I am, I occasionally find myself watching Trisha Yearwood. And right now, the episode I’m watching features her going and getting a skating lesson from the Hockey Team.
So obviously, my brain goes “ZIMBITS AU”, which is only further resolved after Trisha says the following things:
- As you can imagine, growing up in Georgia, I didn’t skate a lot
- (to her friend who’s doing this misadventure with her) I think, as long as we look cute, it doesn’t really matter how good we are
So Bitty has a Food Network show with a vague “southern cooking in new england” theme, and the producers really like to play up the Georgian Fish out of Water angle with the not-actually-cooking segments of the show. So Bitty’s scheduled to do a private skating lesson with Marty and Tater, because the combo of warm and friendly but understated mentor Marty and loud gregarious and enthusiastic rookie (to the NHL - he has a few years in the Russian pros under his belt) Tater will make great television.
So Bitty is making both of them their own thank-you food. Bitty has fun experimenting with Russian pastries for Tater, and of course finds a way to incorporate maple into his apple pie for Marty.
The producers are expecting a lot of hilarious and endeering wobbling on the ice. And they get a lot of great footage of Bitty reacting to wearing hockey gear for the first time “I look like a big blue marshmallow, y'all”, but nobody remembers until Bitty’s on the ice that he was a Junior Regionals Figure Skating Champion.
He glides effortlessly onto the ice, has some fun learning how to handle a hockey stick (cue some ridiculous and just the right amount of off color for basic cable jokes about stick handling)
And of course, Jack Zimmermann, who works harder than god but kind of sucks at acting like a human being in front of cameras, is at the rink to get in some extra practice, and Tater is like “Zimboni! You come and race the tiny baker man!”
And Marty winks at Bitty, who gets the message and starts wobbling and skating like he’s never seen ice in his LIFE, and Jack looks warily at the cameras, but George has been on him to do more public relations stuff and he may as well make a “race” against this tv person part of his warmup.
And Bitty’s all “now, I ain’t no professional skater, Mr. Zimmermann, so you’d better go easy on me!” And then proceeds to SMOKE Jack the second Marty calls GO.
Marty and Tater are doubled over laughing, and the camera guy is circling Jack to get all angles of his utterly dumbfounded expression.
Bitty’s smirking, with his hands on his hips, then says, “do y'all think I could pull off a salchow in all this gear?” And proceeds to pull off a jump in hockey skates and all the gear. Tater, of course insists that Bitty teach him and the footage they get from it is pure gold.
So anyway. After they get off the ice, Bitty cuts up his maple apple pie and Jack decides he might actually be in love.