#reread some of her old threads and i was like bitch you really are useless! love you bitch! let's see if you still are!

[littleandroidwrites]

a lydia ball paragraph of the self

sometimes you ask your littlefamily to send you memes and then you ignore the memes they send you and you write about something irrelevant instead and that? is the least valid thing you can do. thank you

Lydia liked dating Zeke, because Zeke did whatever he wanted and sometimes whatever someone else wanted too, like the first night Lydia had met his band and someone had ended up suggesting they steal all of the stop signs on the block and he had said, I’m down.

They hadn’t ended up doing that. Their manager had come out of his room and briefly had the chance to open his mouth before they were all booing him.

It wasn’t the concept of causing mayhem in traffic that got Lydia going, not at all, but the idea of being adventurous? Lydia used to think that she was adventurous. But it turned out that “adventurous” to the type of person who’d ended up engaged to the guy she started dating in middle school was actually more like rotating one of five activities that were pre-existing in a very safe, very sheltered routine. Every once in a while she’d wake up early on a Sunday morning and say, let’s go feed the ducks in a way that made her feel very wistful and spontaneous. And Dmitri had always said yes and looked at her like she was very wistful and spontaneous.

The thing was though that he was a fucking theatre major and he ended their relationship in a letter after over a decade together, probably because she had never been adventurous a day in her life. Or because she didn’t know how to cook or because she didn’t have a real job or because she refused to clean the shower or the oven but never actually admitted it because she just always swept up and did the dishes first so that it seemed like it was Dmitri who wasn’t pulling his weight. It really could have been lots of things. None of which Lydia would have thought about before the letter, of course, but these sorts of events tended to make you reflect.

They also tended to mean that you couldn’t afford your exposed brick loft apartment anymore because you’re only a painter and your fiancé had been covering most of the costs for the last few years if you were being honest with yourself. 

Her parents had tried to insist she move back in. Lydia knew it wasn’t out of obligation – even though her parents were definitely good people who did good things entirely out of obligation – but because they adored her and loved her and missed her when she was away for more than three days. And it was very tempting to go from being babied by Dmitri back to being babied by her parents and continue this never-ending being babied cycle, but it was occurring to Lydia truly for the first time that at some point someone was going to drop the baby ball and she was just going to be a hopeless adult in her mid-twenties incapable of taking care of herself. 

So she’d gone room hunting. Surrounded by boxes sitting on her very new very millennial futon (which she’d told everyone was a millennial decision but was actually the outcome of trying to move the old bed base for ten whole minutes before crying because she couldn’t lift it by herself and Dmitri had picked it out anyway and she didn’t even have the number of a moving truck and how was she supposed to know how much that would cost did people haggle she’d probably pay more than the moving guy asked for just because she’d want him to like her even if he never saw her again was that pathological she hadn’t been to a counsellor in a couple months her parents would pay but there was nothing more narcissistic than paying someone to hear you talk about wanting to be liked but she didn’t want to put that on her friends you know in case they stopped liking her god was she a narcissist), she had very maturely sorted price lowest to highest. Her favourite result was one crafted in a missed connections style.

f4whatever i have a room. you need one you don’t like having loud parties late at night. i have lots of wine to share when i’m stressed i cook. you eat it and tell me it’s good you can be a liar as long as it’s the nice kind. 2 bed 1 bath. you will not mind that i have fifteen bottles of lotion i don’t use i will pretend to be your scorned girlfriend if you have someone over you don’t like i’m desperate and you must be too

So she lived with a girl called Eve now. Eve hadn’t mentioned in her ad that if Lydia didn’t leave her bed for three days she'd bring her pastries at the end of the day, but she did it anyway and that was the kind of discretionary effort Lydia imagined everyone would want in a roommate. Eve did mention once that her sister was a psychologist once though, which she had followed with so she legally has to listen to me complain. It reminded Lydia of when you’d go out with a friend who couldn’t afford to eat anything so you’d pretend to be full halfway through your fries and say something like it did not occur to me until this moment but these will go to waste if you do not eat them right now!

One afternoon when Eve had texted to say that she’d be home late (which was nice, having someone who made you privy to their schedule, that was maybe one of the things Lydia missed the most, when she’d pretend to be put upon at 8pm at a paint and sip and say to her friends oh I have to let Dmitri know I’ll be home late and she’d roll her eyes like she didn’t do it just to get the 8pm-9pm me misses 8pm-9pm you text back), Lydia had decided it might be nice to cook for Eve for a change. She’d started off with a pinterest search for good dinners easy but had quickly been overwhelmed by the sheer number also there were all these advertisements in between the dishes for active wear and exercise programmes which felt exploitative. So she’d decided to open up her grandma’s special recipes box. 

Lydia really could not stress how little interest she had in cooking. But the first time she’d ever seen this little tin box with cursive recipe cards organised in alphabetical order, she had wanted it. Her grandmother died when she was only three, so she didn’t actually have any memories or her or her cooking or cooking with her or even her wrinkly old face outside of photos she’d seen but she treated this box very much like it held sentimental value. There was something sentimental about its lack of sentimentality.  

Anyway at random she’d picked a casserole and spent way too much on ingredients and when she got halfway through the recipe she realised it took four hours in total which was really a lot of time for one dish but it was too late and she was hungry and she wanted to impress Eve. So after she put the dish in the oven she cleaned the kitchen, which she had made a mess of, and actually the casserole was ready five minutes after Eve walked through the door which was perfect. 

Except that it was not perfect because the casserole was bad. 

“Grandma would be so disappointed,” Lydia lamented, balancing a cucumber on her fork and inspecting it, forlorn. The whole thing tasted overwhelmingly of too-tangy tomato paste and had taken on the sad watery quality of the cucumber. She felt this must be a metaphor for something. Four hours of her life plus however many hours of preparation and anticipation just to be left with a disappointing show of two fruits that really should have been vegetables. 

“Or,” Eve had said, her phone pressed to her ear, “Maybe this is exactly what she used to make, and she just didn’t have taste buds. No shame in — Hi, can I please place an order?”

-

It had taken a little to get to like Eraserhead’s music. At the first gig she went to she was surprised to find they sounded like that, but she figured if she was dating the bassist of a band she should really like his band. So Lydia had started by listening to chaos-adjacent music that she did like, like Friday I’m In Love by The Cure, and then she’d listened to a little more of The Cure, and really from there it was just a modest sidestep to learn to like music from people like The Clash and after a few more hops and jumps you basically fell into Eraserhead’s music. When Zeke had asked her at the next gig what she’d thought, Lydia had said I like that it’s music you kind of have to work for? It’s like real art, and after a second Zeke had nodded like he agreed but privately Lydia kind of thought he didn’t agree. 

That was the thing that she enjoyed about a relationship that was just a little over twelve days old instead of a little over twelve years old, though. Nobody really expected her to dig deeper and ask Zeke if he was just agreeing with her because he didn’t agree and that was a harder conversation. Nobody really expected either of them to owe each other anything and so all she’d done was finish her drink and kiss him.

#i DID write though #DID I LIE ABOUT THAT??? #ch: lydia #self para #reread some of her old threads and i was like bitch you really are useless! love you bitch! let's see if you still are!

[seokmattchuus]

Tension - Jinyoung

- Requested -

“You can’t just walk out.” The staff member scoffed, though his eyes seemed scared he would.

“I can. I will. But out of everything I just said, that’s what you got from it?” Jinyoung scoffed this time, his head turning to the door as he heard it open. “Great, that’s who you called in?” He laughed as Byounggon stepped in, slowly closing the door behind him.

“Dude, whatever happened-”

“Don’t.” He warned, closing his eyes in frustration. “Don’t give me some ‘We can talk through this’ speech because I’m honestly not in the fucking mood.”

Byounggon’s attention turned to the staff member, throwing him a ‘What the fuck did you do?’ glare.

“Maybe you should go home. Take a break.” Byounggon sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder before glaring at the staff member again. “It’d be useless if you went back to practice like this.”

“Whatever.” Jinyoung shook his head, throwing Byounggon’s hand off his shoulder and storming past him, not even bothering to say anything to anybody on his way to the car.

Your place being the only thing on his mind.

-

You on the other hand, your day probably couldn’t get any worse.

Until it did. 

Your supervisor walked up to your desk, slamming the same thick folder of the same revised contract you already wrote up.

Ten. 

Different. 

Times. 

Of course when you tried to fight your case, you were given the same old ‘Well had you done it right the first time, you wouldn’t have to redo it.’ and at this point, you were one hundred percent sure that just hearing her breathe too close to you would make you snap.

Your hopes that dealing with her bullshit for the sake of a promotion suddenly didn’t seem to matter anymore as you grabbed the folder and tried your hardest to not pick it up and slam it against your desk in a small tantrum.

Part of your anger was from yet another day of useless overtime, and the other part stemmed from how you just had to make the damn contract so long.

Your sanity was holding on by a slim thread. 

You angrily went over the contract, slightly giving up on everything as you reread it for the umpteenth time, trying to pinpoint what was so fucking wrong with it because you’re almost sure she’s just fucking with you.

And it was made clear that she was when you turned in the same damn contract and she looked it over, finally accepting it.

You swallowed whatever insults that threatened to spill out as you forced a smile before leaving her office and grabbing your things before heading straight to the elevator before she could come up with some other bullshit excuse to keep you there.

-

Your drive home was probably a little quicker than it should’ve been but having had the day you had, you figured the universe was on your side by not giving you speeding ticket.

“Fucking hell!” You nearly screamed as you were greeted with Jinyoung’s silhouette in your living room. “You could at least tell me when you’re coming over.” You sighed as you recovered from your mini heart attack.

Maybe it was your need to finally get home and sleep, but you could swear you didn’t see Jinyoung’s car parked outside.

“I did.” He spoke flatly. “Plus, you were supposed to be home hours ago.” He sighed. 

“My phone died and I left my charger at home.” You sighed, putting your bag on the couch as you walked past it, heading for your bedroom. ”And my supervisor’s a bitch, you know that.” You spoke louder for his sake, but he was quick to follow.

“I rewrote the same contract ten times. I swear she hates me.” You sighed to yourself as you threw your hair up into a messy bun, too lost in your rant to notice how he was walking up to you.

“What if I never get that promotion? What if I never-”

You were cut off with Jinyoung roughly pressing his lips to yours, sufficiently shutting you up.

Your hands dropped from your hair to grasp his shoulders in an attempt to find some kind control but it was no use as he wasn’t budging. 

It wasn’t long before you were backed into the wall, his thigh coming between your legs while his hand moved to the small of your back, pushing you against him.

“Ji-Jin, slow do-” You whispered as you pulled back but it was cut off as he started trailing kisses down your jaw, immediately attacking your sweet spots.

He didn’t bother slowing down, taking your hand that came up to grab his hair as his sign to keep going.

The thigh that was between your legs came up to push against you and you couldn’t help the small whine that you let out, Jinyoung smirking at how you flinched at the touch.

“Let me help you.” He whispered, both hands moving towards your jeans, experienced hands getting them open in no time before he pushed them down before moving his hands towards your shirt, the piece of clothing falling soon after he touched it.

“Fuck, you look so good.” He groaned, giving you no time to respond before his mouth went for your chest, his lips relentless as they marked their way down.

You would be telling him to slow down but the way his body moved down until he was on his knees had you eating your words.

There was no way you were gonna shut him down when he was this willing to eat you out.

Especially when you caught his eyes looking up at you with a glint you’d never seen before.

“I bet you taste just as good.” He whispered as his hands came up to the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them down before he pressed light kisses along your inner thighs.

“Jin, please.” You whined, your hips rolling into his face.

“If you can hold still I might just let you cum.” He smirked before finally attaching his mouth to you.

The moan you let out was more of a scream and your hand flew towards his hair while his moved to grab your hips to push you closer into him.

It was a lie.

He was going to let you cum regardless.

He needed to see you turn into a mess because of him.

He needed to know how good he was at this.

That being said, this wasn’t the usual head Jinyoung gave. This was rougher, like he was trying to ruin you, and you couldn’t even form the words to tell him to stop.

Not that you wanted him to.

You’d take rough, overwhelming head over the slow, sensual that you were used to receiving.

Some things just needed a little more passion, and this was a passion you were completely on board with.

You were pulled from your thoughts when his mouth sucked harshly on your clit, the action causing your knees to buckle slightly. 

“Fuck, J-Jin, I can’t-” You licked your lips, your hand trying to tug his face away, but it was no use.

He responded, but the only thing you got from it was vibrations against you, your legs nearly giving up fully as you felt your orgasm build. 

“O-Oh fuck-” You were cut off as he looked up at you with soft eyes, the contradiction of his eyes compared to his actions enough to bring you over the edge, your legs shaking as you watched him lap at you hungrily.

By the time he got up, you opened your mouth to ask what that was but you had no time as he turned to the bed, pulling you with him and letting you fall onto it.

The look in his eyes was enough to shut down whatever sentences you were trying to come up with.

“Maybe I should eat you out like that more often.” He smirked down at you as he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling the fabric up and over his head before working on his jeans. “You look so hot like this.”

You swallowed thickly at the words before pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he grabbed your thighs to pull you closer to him.

“I just wanna ruin you.” He licked his lips as he ran his tip along your folds, watching how your eyes closed at the feeling, your head falling back.

“Maybe I should.” He chuckled before pushing in slowly, keeping his eyes trained on your face as he bottomed out.

“Jin, please, I can’t wait.” You whimpered as you rolled your hips against him. 

He didn’t hesitate to comply, his hips rolling slowly as his hands moved to grip your thighs.

“Fuck, you look so good like this.” He groaned, the memories of the day melting away the more he heard your whimpers.

“Faster~” You whined, slightly opening your eyes in hopes he would.

“Why?” He smirked, keeping his slow pace.

“Jin, please.” You whined. “I need it.”

“Do you really?” He raised a brow, as his hips sped up slightly. 

Your head fell back in frustration, a loud whine leaving your lips as you realized what he wanted.

“Please, Jin.” You started. “I really need you.” You swallowed thickly. “Ruin me like you wan-”

You were cut off as he pulled out only to slam back into you. The force enough to have your hand coming up to wrap over your mouth to prevent any sounds from coming out.

“Nuh-uh, baby.” He smirked, his hand coming up to grab your wrist, pinning it above your head. “Let me hear you.”

The sudden change in him had you unsure if you should be concerned or grateful.

Concerned because he was rarely this rough, and grateful because him being rough with you was a god send after the day you had.

When he finally set a pace that had you loud enough, his free hand came up to your throat, not applying too much pressure, but definitely enough to have you choking out whimpers, your free hand coming up to grab his wrist. 

“Fuck,” He scoffed lightly as he smirked down at you. “Do you like my hand on your throat?” 

The nod you gave was almost instant, and he tightened his grip slightly, reveling in how you choked out a moan.

He was quiet after that, focusing more on keeping his hips steady while he released your wrist so he could rub your clit, the choked moan plus your grip on his wrist giving him a clear sign that you were close.

“Are you gonna cum?” He smirked, ignoring the whine of protest you let out.

On any other given day, you’d happily cum for him, but you really didn’t want this to end so soon.

“Go ahead, cum for me.” He coaxed, his hand leaving your throat and leaning in to suck more hickies onto your neck. 

Your legs snapped shut around him and he only smirked as he ran his tongue over the mark he left, the small action seeming to be your downfall as your legs twitched. 

“Good girl.” He smirked as he felt your walls convulse around him and it wasn’t long before he stilled inside you, a low groan coming out before he pulled out.

It was quiet for a while, neither of you wanting to be the one to break the silence. 

It wasn’t until he pulled out that you finally spoke up. 

"So what happened to you that you came home like that?” You panted out as he fell next to you. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“My problems don’t matter now that we fucked it out.” He chuckled, rolling over and throwing an arm over your waist. 

The small sigh you let out didn’t go unnoticed and he looked over at you.

“What is it?”

You shook your head with a small smile.

“You should come over pissed off more often.”

#cix #cix imagines #cix scenarios #cix smut #bae jinyoung #bae jinyoung imagines #bae jinyoung scenarios #bae jinyoung smut #jinyoung #jinyoung imagines #jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung smut #wanna one ? #wanna one smut ? #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #mine