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ming-yu-hao · 3 years

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 2

Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader, some wonwoo x reader

Word Count: 6k

Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.

This Chapter’s Tags: cyber sex lol, angst, CHEATING, grinding, oral (female receiving and male receiving), fingering, mingyu is just sweet and it makes me sad, kinda fluff?

Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

A/N: i really self indulged on this one... man i just wanna fuck frat boy mingyu is that too much to ask... anyways PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS CHAPTER I PUT A LOT MORE TIME INTO THIS ONE so feedback would be very appreciated <3

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Sunlight peeked through your blinds the next morning, stirring you awake. You opened your eyes and snapped them shut again as the glare of the sun blinded you. Yawning, you reached for your phone and squinted at the pile of unread messages from Jisoo that had built up over the span of last night.

Jisoo: omg what u were here for like 2 seconds :(

Sent at 10:49 PM

Jisoo: i hope u feel better babe

Sent at 10:49 PM

Jisoo: wait

Sent at 10:50 PM

Jisoo: did something happen with wonwoo

Sent at 10:50 PM

Jisoo: i swear if he's mad at you for being a normal college student...

Sent at 10:50 PM

Jisoo: bitch answerrrrr :(

Sent at 10:53 PM

Jisoo: i'm staying the night somewhere i hope ur feeling okay <3 pls update me when u wake up

Sent at 12:06 AM

You laughed under your breath as you realized that it was 10 AM and Jisoo's side of the room still remained empty. From how last night was going, you could only assume that she was somewhere with Seungcheol. Classic Jisoo, you thought to yourself.

Just as you sat up in bed, your phone vibrated with another notification. You glanced down, expecting another text from Jisoo, but your eyes lit up as you saw Wonwoo's name on the screen instead.

Wonwoo: good morning :) do you wanna facetime?

Sent at 10:27 AM

Without replying, you quickly opened up your laptop and called Wonwoo. He answered after a few rings, his face filling the screen for the first time in a month.

"That was fast," He laughed. He must had just woken up because his voice always had a distinct rasp in the morning. His glasses also still rested on his nose and you could see his bare chest at the edge of the frame.

You smiled warmly. "I've missed you," you said, leaning closer to the camera.

"I missed you too," he gave you a toothless smile and ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry I kept ditching you."

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. I understand."

You stared at him for a moment, neither of you speaking; you almost didn't know what to say. After all this time, you felt like you didn't know anything that was going on in his life anymore. It was tearing at you slowly. You were watching your own boyfriend become a stranger to you.

Luckily, Wonwoo broke the silence. "What are you doing?" He asked.

You shrugged. "I just woke up. I need to shower."

He raised his eyebrows at you suggestively and chuckled. "Oh?"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes as you snickered. Wonwoo rested his arm behind his head and smirked at you.

"Can you blame me? I haven't been inside you in so long." He groaned. You felt your face burn at his bluntness. You looked down at your hands, and he must have noticed your embarrassment because he quickly asked, "Your roommate isn't there, right?"

"No," you replied, gazing back up at his face.

"Why're you so shy?" He grinned devilishly.

"I'm not," you protested. You began to toy with the bottom of the big tee shirt you were wearing.

Wonwoo sighed loudly. "I'm horny."

"I can tell." You replied with a chuckle. You slowly pulled the hem of your shirt up farther until your underwear could be seen. Wonwoo noticed this, biting his lip.

"Fuck," he breathed, "I miss your tight little pussy." Your skin heated up with each word he spoke. You watched as he removed his arm from behind his head; your mind instantly filled with images of him stroking himself. "Touch yourself for me." Wonwoo demanded.

Without a word, you leaned back against your pillows and slowly spread your legs for the camera. The wetness between your thighs was so intense at this point that your underwear was clinging to your folds.

Wonwoo let out a deep groan as he touched himself off camera. Your skin flushed even further as you watched his face contort in pleasure. "Take off your shirt," he muttered.

You obeyed, pulling the fabric over your head and leaving yourself mostly exposed. Your breasts bounced in view of the camera as you leaned forward and pulled your underwear down your legs. Wonwoo moaned, his head leaning back and exposing the veins in his neck. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum already."

You giggled and leaned back against the pillows again, this time exposing your nude body to him. You dragged your hand down to your heat and began to run your fingers through your folds. You let out a whine at the long-awaited contact. Your other hand squeezed at your breast, stimulating your sensitive nipples.

"Shit," Wonwoo hissed, "If I was there I'd be fucking you so hard. Making you moan my name for everyone to hear." You felt yourself clench at his filthy words. You bit your lip and rubbed your clit in circles.

"Mmh, shit." You moaned. "I miss you so much. Miss feeling your cock inside me." You heard Wonwoo's breathing grow heavier on his end of the line. You could tell he was going to cum soon. You pushed two fingers inside you, desperate to release.

Curling and scissoring your fingers deep inside you, intense pleasure began to take over your body. You threw your head back and whined loudly as you felt your orgasm approach. "Wonwoo," you moaned.

Wonwoo let out a choked moan at the sound of you moaning his name. "Fu- I'm cumming," he stuttered as he finally released.

You continued to pump your fingers inside of you while Wonwoo started to slow his breathing again. "Cum, baby," he said. You brought your other hand down to your clit and rubbed it in figure eights. Your legs twitched with pleasure, your walls clenching and pulsing around your fingers.

You cried out as your orgasm finally washed over you, your head falling back against the pillows behind you. You kept your eyes closed for a few seconds as you basked in the pleasure. Your heavy breathing began to calm.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Wonwoo wiping his hand with a tissue. He glanced at you and smiled. "Now that," he whistled as he laid back down against his mattress, "was unbelievably hot."

Your cheeks burned and you reached for your shirt to pull back over your head. "We should do that more often," he said.

You laughed. "Maybe."

Wonwoo sat up after a moment. "What time is it?" He asked.

You glanced at the clock. "Almost 11."

He groaned in frustration. "Fuck, I have to go. I have a group study soon."

"Oh," you replied.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly as he rose out of bed. "I'll call you Saturday, okay? I love you." You nodded silently.

"I love you too," you said right as he ended the call.

And then you were left alone, with sweat sticking to your skin and your soaked underwear balled up next to you. You shut your laptop and sat in silence for a few moments, staring out the window as you felt disappointment settle over you.

That was the first time you had seen his face in a month. Hell, that was the first full conversation you two had shared in so long. And it was over as quickly as it had begun.

Anxiety coursed through your veins. Was that all you had become to your boyfriend now? Just a number that he could call when he wanted to get off? Were you no longer someone he confided in?

You shook yourself out of your worried thoughts. Finally, you stood and walked over to the bathroom, your legs still a little weak beneath you, and turned the shower water on.

You stared at yourself in the mirror while you waited for the water to heat up. Your mind flashed with images of last night—of Mingyu staring down at you, his lips nearly brushing against yours, and the sound of you moaning his name.

You had told yourself that it had only affected you because you missed Wonwoo. Then how were you still left feeling unsatisfied after what just happened between you two?

Things were not the same as they once were, you noted as you stepped under the stream of hot water.

When you walked into your digital media class on Tuesday morning, you were hyperaware of each little movement you made. You kept your gaze fixated on the ground and carefully trotted up the stairs until you reached the row you always sat in. Glancing up, you saw Mingyu through the corner of your eye, his attention captured by his phone.

The sound of you setting your bag down was enough to pull him away from his device and look over at you. You sat down and stared forward, refusing to make eye contact with him. Your face started to burn in embarrassment; you didn’t know how you were going to make it through this class.

“Hey, I’m sorry about Saturday,” he paused, “I was drinking and I didn’t know what I was doing.” He said, breaking the silence. You forced yourself to finally look at him. He was back in his usual state: clean, pushed back hair and muscles concealed by his hoodie. You could see genuine remorse in the shine of his eyes and in the slight pout of his lip.

You shook your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.” You reassured him. His troubled expression seemed to lighten up a bit at your words. He gave you a small smile and nodded his head.

“Good. Otherwise this class would’ve been a lot more awkward.” He chuckled and returned his attention to his phone.

You observed him for a minute, noticing the way he chewed on his bottom lip in concentration. Your body flushed again as you thought about his lips: how close they were to yours, the words they whispered to you, how you imagined they would feel against you skin. You tore your gaze away from Mingyu, your heart beating a little faster than before.

You needed to get a grip. There was no way you were going to make it through the rest of this semester if you spent every class getting flustered while reminiscing your half-asleep-wet-dream-fantasy of Mingyu.

Sighing and choosing to ignore the pressing thoughts in the back of your mind, you pulled out your laptop and buried yourself in your notes until the professor strolled into the room and began the lecture.

You managed to successfully ignore Mingyu’s presence for most of the class, despite him sitting only a few feet to your side. You were only reminded of his existence again when your professor announced: “We will be working on a project for the next week. Everybody needs a partner.”

You and Mingyu glanced at each other, as the two of you normally collaborated on assignments in class. He nodded and gave you a thumbs up before you returned your attention to the professor.

“You will write two articles on events or people in the community. For the first, one of you will write and the other will be responsible for photography. For the second, you switch.” He explained briefly.

The lecture came to an end a few minutes later, and the room instantly started buzzing with conversation as students stood up and scrambled to find partners. You turned to Mingyu and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“I guess I should get your number so we can talk about the project?” Mingyu suggested, pulling out his phone.

“Uh... yeah, okay,” You replied awkwardly as you typed your number into his phone. You cursed yourself internally for letting this happen. This class used to be fun: you and Mingyu casually talked and exchanged answers and cracked jokes with each other and that was that. You didn’t know much about his life, and you didn’t need to. Hell, you didn’t even know he was part of a fraternity. But now that was all ruined. You couldn’t even look at him without feeling small and awkward. And all of this was to blame on some cheap alcohol and your stupid hormones.

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts as you handed Mingyu’s phone back to him. “So, do you have any ideas?” You prompted.

Mingyu’s face contorted as he thought for a moment. “Um, my frat’s doing some charity event this week,” he said. When you didn’t respond for a moment, he panicked and added, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. We can just-“

“It’s perfect.” You cut him off, snickering at his uncertainty. “Since you know more about it, you can write that one, and I can come and take pictures.” Relief flooded his features and he let out a breath. “When is it?” You asked.

“Thursday.”

“I’ll see you there, then,” you smiled.

The next day passed quickly and before you knew it, the evening of the fundraiser had arrived. You and Mingyu had texted casually the past couple of days; he just gave you details on the fundraiser and tried to come up with an article idea for you.

You strolled through campus on that Thursday afternoon, wrapping your denim jacket around your torso a little tighter as a chilled breeze blew through the air. The brisk atmosphere of late autumn was finally starting to settle in. You quickened your pace, wanting to reach the university quad before you froze.

As you neared the quad, you could hear distant chatter and laughter. You rounded the corner and took in the view of the surprisingly large crowd that gathered near the booth the SVT frat had set up. They were having a raffle for a voucher for free textbooks. Whoever came up with the idea was genius; you couldn’t think of a better way to get broke college students to participate in something.

You walked up to the booth, camera bag in hand, and immediately recognized the boy sitting behind it. It was Seokmin. His eyes lit up as he saw your familiar face. “Hey! Y/N, right?” He greeted you. You told him yes and smiled before greeting him back.

“Do you know where Mingyu is?” You asked, scanning over your shoulder for the tall boy.

Seokmin squinted as he stood up and looked around the quad. “Uh, he was somewhere around here earlier.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “He’s probably off being an idiot.” You laughed and fiddled with the camera in your hands.

Just as you were about to ask if you could take a picture, someone shook your shoulders from behind. “Y/N! What are you doing here?” Jisoo bounced in front of you, Seungcheol by her side.

“Jisoo? I didn’t realize you were a member of the frat now?” You joked before holding up the camera. “I have to take pictures for a class project.” You explained.

Seungcheol wrapped his arm around Jisoo’s waist and said, “You can take a picture of us.” She agreed excitedly, already posing and smiling before you even pulled out the camera.

You stepped back and looked through the lens, making sure that the booth was visible in the background. “Okay, say cheese!” You said as you snapped the picture.

A pair of hands then poked you in your sides, causing you to yelp loudly and nearly drop the camera. You whipped your head around and saw Mingyu’s taunting face smirking down at you. “Hey, Y/N.”

“God, you scared me! You’re lucky I didn’t drop the camera.” You cried, playfully smacking him in the arm.

Mingyu held his hands up next to his face in defense. “Woah, sorry. My bad.” He chuckled. Jisoo and Seungcheol approached you two, butting in on your conversation.

“You know Mingyu?” Seungcheol asked, glancing between you two and raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, we’re partners for a project.” Mingyu explained briefly while checking over his shoulder. He turned to you. “Let’s go take these pictures fast, yeah? It’s kinda cold.” Before you could even respond, he linked his arm with yours and walked you away from the booth and into the small crowd of students.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up at him. “We got out of there fast.” You noted.

Mingyu sighed. “Yeah, sorry. Cheol’s just weird about certain stuff.”

You were even more confused now. “What do you mean?”

“He just like- he tries to set me up with people all the time and I don’t want him the get the wrong idea of us.” He dismissed quickly before saying: “Why don’t you get some pictures of the people standing around here? Just take a few. We don’t need that many.”

“Oh... okay.” You responded hesitantly. You lifted the camera up again and snapped a couple more pictures of students conversing and walking up to the booth to buy raffle tickets. Mingyu stood next to you with his arms crossed over his chest, impatiently tapping his foot. He flashed you a relieved smile when you turned to him.

“All done?”

“We should be.” You replied while placing the camera back in the bag.

“Okay, we can go back to the house and work on the article together,” he said, “there’s gonna be some people from here hanging around there later but they shouldn’t be too loud.”

You agreed and began walking with him towards the SVT frat house. The sun was beginning to set now, and the air nipped at your exposed skin as the temperature continued to drop. You stared down at your shoes while you walked, your mind still fixating on Mingyu’s strange behavior.

Finally, you mustered up the courage to ask: “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s eyes met with yours. Confusion overtook his features in response to your question. “Yeah?” He chuckled.

“Sorry,” you spoke, “you were just acting weird earlier.”

Mingyu sighed and stared ahead silently for a moment. “I don’t know,” he started, “I guess I just still feel bad about last weekend.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you revisited the memory once again.

“Sorry for bringing it up again. I know we should probably just move on already cause it wasn’t that big of a deal. I just... feel like I overstepped. So... I’m sorry.” He rambled.

You looked up at him again. “You don’t have to feel bad. I’m not mad at you.” You exhaled. “But you’re right... we should just move on.”

Mingyu gave you a small nod before changing the subject. “Did you figure out an article idea yet?”

You shook your head. “No, but it’ll be fine. There’s so much that goes on around campus.”

Your conversation slowly died out, but thankfully you arrived at the SVT frat shortly after. Mingyu opened the front door and allowed you to step through before walking in behind you and shutting it. The house was warm; you shivered as your skin adjusted to the change in temperature. You slipped your shoes off and stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to guide you through the house.

Mingyu led you to the dining room, crying out as he rounded the corner. “Seriously, Seungkwan?” He huffed.

A boy sat at the head of the table, textbooks sprawled across the surface. A few other people sat at the table with notebooks and laptops in front of them, watching Mingyu with confused expressions on their faces.

The boy—Seungkwan—stood up from his chair with his jaw dropped. “What do you mean ‘seriously, Seungkwan’?” He mocked Mingyu’s deep voice. “You know I have group study every Thursday!” He cried.

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He responded.

Seungkwan sat back down and calmly resumed his studies as if nothing had happened. You assumed that this must be typical behavior between the two. Staring at Mingyu with wide eyes, he turned to you.

“Is it fine if we go work on it in my room?” He asked, his voice lowered.

You felt blood rush through your ears. You swallowed. “Yeah,” you exhaled.

Mingyu led you up the stairs and down the hall. When he opened the door to his room, you were surprised by how clean it was. Everything was organized neatly and the room smelled fresh.

You heard the door click shut behind you, and your heart started beating faster.

“We can just sit on the floor,” Mingyu spoke. His deep voice startled you a bit. You walked further into the room and sat down with your legs crossed, resting your back against his bed frame as you set the camera down next to you. Mingyu sat down, his knee only a few inches away from yours.

Reaching behind his head for the laptop sitting on his bed, he pulled it into his lap and opened up the article.

“I’m not completely done yet.” He smiled sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s fine. You’re farther than I am.” You reassured him while you took the camera out of the bag again.

He laughed, “That’s true.” You placed the camera in his hands. “Alright, let me just get these pictures pulled up on here.”

You nodded and looked down as you played with your hands. You began to wonder what Wonwoo would think if he knew that you were in some other guy’s room right now.

You frowned and pulled your phone out of your pocket. You opened up your messages and went to send a text to Wonwoo when you realized that the message you had sent him last night was still unread. A dark, heavy feeling settled over your chest. Why did he act as if you didn’t exist anymore? Why would he suggest doing long distance when he couldn’t even commit to it?

You shut your phone off and set it on the floor next to you, staring forward. You exhaled, trying to stop the tightness growing in your throat.

Mingyu was leaned over his computer, his lips pursed in concentration. The definition of his triceps was visible through his sweatshirt. “These pictures actually didn’t turn out too horrible.” He said after a few moments of silence.

You laughed and playfully hit his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He brought his gaze to meet yours, a teasing smile on his lips. “No, they’re actually good.”

“Thanks,” you squeaked, the intensity of his gaze making you nervous. You felt blood rush through your veins. You broke eye contact, glancing down at his nose, and then at his lips that were parted slightly. You quickly looked up to his eyes again, but now they held a knowing look in them. He knew exactly what thoughts were going through your mind.

You inched closer to him, your breath getting caught in your throat as you noticed him bringing his face closer to yours. Your heart raced as you fluttered your eyes shut. His lips brushed against yours and you leaned closer, but then you felt him pull away.

“Do you really have a boyfriend?” He asked.

You sighed, opening your eyes slowly and looking into his concerned ones again. You pressed your lips into a line and looked down shamefully.

“I do,” you admitted. That tight feeling in your throat began to come back. Mingyu was silent. “I’m sorry.”

As you spoke your voice cracked and tears began to spill from your eyes. You felt Mingyu’s warm, soft skin caress your cheeks, holding your face in his hands. You looked up at him with teary eyes.

“Hey. Shhh, don’t cry.” He whispered. His brows were furrowed in concern as he ran his thumb over your cheek. “You can talk to me about it. I’ll listen.”

God, how you hated that he knew exactly what to do and what to say. You hated that he was giving you everything you had craved the past two months without even realizing it. You hated how he made it so easy to confide in him when you had a boyfriend that was supposed to be there for you instead—a boyfriend that was becoming a stranger to you.

You closed your eyes, causing more tears to fall down your face. “I’m sorry,” you said again, your voice a broken whisper.

You inhaled a shaky breath. “We’re long distance. But he barely talks to me anymore.” You explained. You brought your hand up to hold the wrist that was still caressing your face. “I just feel so alone. It feels like he’s given up on me.”

Mingyu was silent. The only audible sound in the room was your uneven breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, “you deserve better than that.”

You felt your heart flutter in your chest at his sweet words.

“What do you want?” He questioned.

You opened your eyes. You were no longer crying, but your face was still wet with tears. Mingyu was staring at you with that same concerned look: eyebrows furrowed, eyes wide and conflicted, lips slightly parted.

“I just want someone to care.” You muttered.

He brought his face closer to yours again. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and his eyes were half shut as he whispered: “I can take care of you.”

Your breath hitched.

“Do you want that?” He asked.

“Yes.”

Mingyu finally brought his lips to yours, kissing you hard and passionately. He left slow, open-mouthed kisses against your lips. The hand on your face gently squeezed, puckering out your lips as he continued to kiss them.

You brought your hands up to his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks as he pulled you into his lap. Your hips rested on top of his, straddling him, and you felt his tongue dart out against your lips. You parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth and deepen the kiss.

You ground your core into his lap, feeling his length begin to harden beneath the fabric of his jeans. He groaned into your mouth as you continued to move your hips back and forth.

This is all that you had wanted: someone to care for you, to touch you, to pay attention to you and make you feel wanted.

Mingyu brought both of his hands down to your hips, pushing you down against him as he lifted his hips up towards you. “Let me make you feel good,” he muttered against your lips.

You exhaled shakily, feeling the growing wetness between your legs. “Okay,” you whispered.

He placed his hands on your ass, roughly squeezing the soft flesh between his hands. You circled your hips again, letting out a quiet moan as his hard cock brushed against your clothed clit.

He pulled his lips away from yours. “Stand up,” he said quickly. You obeyed, peeled yourself off of him, and stood expectantly as he stood up from the floor himself. You could see the outline of his cock in his jeans as he rose. He towered over you now, making you feel small beneath him. He pushed your jacket off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and his fingers played with the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” He whispered into your ear. You nodded silently and he pressed a soft kiss beneath your ear. He lifted the fabric up, pulling it over your head and exposing your body to him. His hands brushed against your waist, making goosebumps form on your skin. “Lay down,” he demanded.

You sat down at the edge of his mattress and laid on your back, bunching your legs up at the edge of the bed. He leaned over your body, caging you in by resting both of his forearms on either side of you, and placed another kiss to your lips. Just as he began to kiss down to your neck, he pressed his hardness against your center. You let out a whimper at the contact.

He nibbled and sucked at the soft skin of your neck, causing your entire body to tingle. You leaned your head back, exposing more of your neck to him, and your eyes rolled back into your head at the pleasure.

“Mingyu,” you whimpered. He pressed his clothed length against you again.

“Fuck,” he hissed. He placed more open-mouthed kisses against your neck as he ran one of his hands down your stomach. He brought his hand up again and squeezed your breast through your bra.

He pulled away from your neck, looking down hungrily at your chest. You noticed this and complied to his wishes by arching your back against the bed. He brought his hands behind you, unhooking your bra before pulling it off of you slowly. He exhaled as he stared at your bare chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. You felt heat rush to your face at the compliment. Before you could say anything, he brought his mouth down to your breast, sucking and flicking his tongue against your hardened nipple. You gasped. At this point you were so turned on you were sure that your arousal had already soaked through your leggings. He squeezed your other breast with his hand, and you arched your back again as you moaned.

Mingyu pushed himself up, staring into your eyes with his lust-filled ones. He kept eye contact with you as he pulled away, nearing your core. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your leggings. He looked to you for approval, and you nodded your head rapidly.

He tugged your pants down quickly and slid them off your legs, leaving you in only your underwear. He could see the wet spot on the fabric; he brought his fingers to the cloth and pressed it against your clit. Your legs twitched and you gasped quietly.

Mingyu chuckled. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He licked his lips, and you could see the pride in his gaze as he slipped his fingers beneath your underwear and pulled them down your legs.

He brought his face close to your center, smirking before finally bringing his tongue to you and licking a strip up to your clit.

You let out a choked moan and your legs shut naturally, but Mingyu placed both of his hands on your knees and spread you open for him again. He placed a soft kiss on your clit before sucking on it harshly. Your hips jerked up and you cried out.

He looked up at your from between your thighs, an alarmed look on his face. “You have to be quiet, baby. There’s people downstairs.” He went back to sucking on your clit right after.

You pressed your lips together, trying to contain your moans, and they came out as heavy pants and muffled whimpers instead.

Mingyu brought his fingers to your core, teasing your entrance. He flicked his tongue against your clit as he pushed a finger into you and curled it deep inside you. You arched your back and cried out, “Fuck!”

As the pleasure continued to grow, you brought your hands down to his hair again, tugging each time he pumped and curled his finger in you. He moaned against your core, the vibrations making your eyes roll back into your head.

He pushed in another finger, scissoring them deep inside you. You could hear the filthy sounds of his fingers pumping into your wetness.

“M-Mingyu,” you moaned. “I’m gonna cum.”

He smirked against your core before resuming his ministrations of his tongue against your clit. He pumped his fingers into you faster and curled them with each thrust.

The pressure in your lower stomach was growing fast. Your legs began to shake as the pleasure built, and when Mingyu pushed his fingers deep into your core, you felt the knot snap.

You threw your head back as intense pleasure washed over your entire body. Your legs convulsed and you couldn’t hold back a particularly loud moan. Mingyu continued to pump his fingers into you slowly as you rode out your orgasm.

When the pleasure subsided, he pulled his fingers out of you, keeping eye contact with you as he placed them in his mouth and sucked them clean. The sight was so dirty that you whimpered softly. He leaned over you again, kissing you one last time, allowing you to taste yourself.

He rolled over, laying next to you on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. “How was that?” He asked.

“Good,” you breathed, “really fucking good.”

He chuckled under his breath. “I’m glad I could help.”

You sat up, glancing at the obvious boner that still strained against his jeans. “What about you?” You prompted.

“I’m fine. It’ll go away.” He dismissed, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Just lay down with me.”

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment before palming him through his jeans. “But I wanna make you feel good. It’s only fair.”

He hissed at the contact, his hips jerking up a bit. “Shit,” he muttered, removing his arm and placing it behind his head.

He watched you with half-lidded eyes as you fumbled with the button of his pants. You pulled them down, reaching your hand into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It was big. Really big. You were honestly worried if you were going to be able to fit it in your mouth. You stared at it for a moment, wide-eyed.

Mingyu looked down at you and giggled. “Well? Do something.”

You pumped your hand up his shaft, swiping over the tip and collecting the pre-cum that was leaking out. You pumped him a few times before situating yourself between his legs and bringing your lips down to his tip.

You rubbed your lips against his leaking head of his cock before pressing a soft kiss to it. Finally, you wrapped your mouth around him and sucked on the head. He groaned and lightly jerked his hips up, forcing more of his cock into your mouth. You glanced up at him while you continued to suck, pushing more of him into your mouth.

He stared back at you with his mouth hung open. “Fuck. ‘M so hard.” He moaned before leaning his head back against the mattress. “I’m not gonna last long.”

You swirled your tongue around him while he was in your mouth. Then you pushed your head down further, taking him deep into your throat. You struggled to inhale through your nose, almost choking on his dick.

You pulled yourself off him, catching your breath, and continued to pump his length. You brought your head back and sucked him into your mouth, using your hand to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

Mingyu was panting and jerking his hips up each time you swirled your tongue around his tip. You looked up and saw his head thrown back, the veins in his neck prominent as he clenched his teeth. He hit the back of your throat and you moaned against him, the vibrations causing him to gasp.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m cumming.” He cried. You kept him in your mouth as the strings of hot liquid met your tongue.

You kept sucking on his length until you swallowed around him. You pulled yourself off his cock with a pop and stuck out your tongue to show him that you swallowed everything.

He pushed his softening cock back into his boxers and motioned for you to come up next to him. “Let’s lay down.”

You laid down on his chest and he pulled a blanket up to cover your nude body. You closed your eyes and listened to the softness of his breathing and the faint beat of his heart beneath his ribs.

“Shouldn’t we work on the project?” You asked after a few moments.

“No, it’s fine. Let’s just rest for a minute.” He said, running a hand gently down your back. You leaned into his soft touch.

The two of you laid in a comfortable silence, just basking in the calmness and in each other’s warm presence.

“Mingyu?” You broke the silence, looking up at him.

“Hm?” He hummed, meeting your eyes.

“Thank you.”

#mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen smut #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo smut #mingyu #seventeen angst #seventeen #kpop smut #wonwoo imagines

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jjaybank · 4 years

Text

Insomnia

[Not my gif, lmk if it’s yours x]

Pairing: JJ x Reader Requested: by @pixelated-pogues ‘ hiii lovely, it’s so fun that you’re opening for requests. i love your writing! could you do 6 & 27 together? ‘ 6. “No one’s going to hurt you.” 27. “Please stay with me.” Warnings: Mentions of abuse, Sad JJ :( Word count: 1001 A/N: Thank you SO MUCH for requesting!!! I'm so sorry this got really sad?? Summary: In his hour of need JJ always turns to you, and it’s lucky you can’t sleep.

You couldn’t sleep. You had tossed and turned for hours, played calming music, whale sounds, and even tried some of those soothing audio books, but nothing could get you to drift off. You sat up in bed suddenly, giving in to your insomnia and switching on your lamp. Maybe if you read for a bit or watched a movie, it would help you doze. You had this overbearing sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. Like your body was telling you that you had to stay awake. You quietly padded your way to the kitchen and made yourself a mug of peppermint tea, your mum always said that was good for helping you sleep. When you returned to your room there was a boy on your windowsill. You froze for a moment, staring in shock at the ghostly figure slumped against the glass. Crashing back to reality, you slam the mug down bedside table, sloshing half of the scalding contents over your bed side table. You launch yourself across the room and fumble with the window latch for a couple of seconds before you are able to push the window up and pull the boy into your arms. JJ shivered against you and you all but dragged him inside. It’s been raining and he is soaked through and dripping all over the floorboards. JJ always came to you for help. You didn’t judge. You never cried. You just held him and told him it was going to be okay. And that was what he needed right now. ‘JJ,’ you say, trying to get him to look at you. You grab his face in your hands and turn his head up from where he’s been staring at the floor. You gasp, your heart dropping into your stomach, and clap your hand over your mouth. His face is so swollen that one of his eyes is almost completely shut. His mouth is bloody and bruised. There are blue and purple bruises blossoming over his jaw, and now that you look properly you can see one on his collarbone too. Your eyes sting, but you refuse to cry. That’s not why JJ is here. ‘Oh, JJ,’ you whisper, holding his head against your chest, ‘No one’s going to hurt you.’ He nestles his face further into you and you wish you could let him stay like that forever, but you have to get him cleaned up. He holds your hand tightly as you walk him to your en-suite. You sat with him on the bathroom floor, tangling your legs together so that you can properly reach his face. It looks even worse in the fluorescent lighting. You tend to his bruises and scrapes, and silently curse the man who takes out his fury and resentment on this boy. A boy who only ever wants to do the right thing – though maybe not always in the best way. But there’s a good heart beneath all this battered skin. You wished you could keep him safe and tucked away so that he could never be hurt again. He scrunches up his nose in a grimace when you press a warm washcloth against his jaw, wiping away the blood that had begun to dry there. ‘I’m sorry!’ You exclaim, wincing apologetically. ‘I was going to wait’ he says suddenly, and it’s the first thing he’s said since he fell through your window. You look at him questioningly. ‘I was sat out on the curb,’ he says, gesturing outside, ‘I was going to wait ‘til morning, but I saw your light go on.’ Your heart breaks at the thought of JJ sitting out in the rain all night, waiting for you to wake up so as not to be a nuisance. You place a soothing hand over his and squeeze it gently. ‘You can always wake me up, whatever time of night.’ And it’s a promise. And he knows it too. ‘JJ’ you say again, ‘do you want to talk about what happened’ He shakes his head firmly, and that’s okay, because all that matters to you is that he’s here and he’s safe for now.

You care so deeply about JJ, in a way you don’t need to about your other friends quite so much. The number of times you’ve scraped this boy off the road and patched him up – God, you don’t even want to count. JJ is squeezing your hand back now, and there’s a soft smile playing on his face despite his busted lip. You can’t deny the warmth in these moments you share, you just wish they were under better circumstances. You go to stand and JJ frowns, pulling your hand towards him. ‘I need to get ice for that eye of yours’ you explain, gesturing at the mash of bruising which you hope is concealing an undamaged eyeball. . ‘No, no, no,’ he whines, hanging onto your hand, ‘Please stay with me.’ You consider your options. ‘Okay, but only if we get you changed out of those clothes and into something warm.’ He attempts a wink, but due to only having one functioning eye it doesn’t really have the same effect. ~ Once he’s changed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt that definitely already belonged to him, you settle him down beneath the covers. ‘What’s this?’ JJ asks, holding up your discarded mug and sniffing it suspiciously. ‘It’s peppermint tea, but don’t drink that it’s-‘ you can’t finish before he downs the cold tea and you wrinkle your nose. ‘Mmm, that’s good!’ He smiles, looking at you a little brighter. You shake your head and laugh quietly, as the boy settles down against you, and you take up your usual role of stroking his hair until he drifts off. You hold him close tonight, finally allowing silent tears to spill over your cheeks. He snores softly against the crook of your neck, a fistful of your shirt in his hand. The rain falls heavily against your windowpane, and you shake in sobs over the thought of JJ sitting out there, waiting until morning for you to wake. You press a kiss into his hair, holding your face there for a moment and finding comfort in his warmth, his smell, the steady beat of his heart against your arm. And you thank the gods for your insomnia.

--------------------------------

[My requests are open x]

#jj maybank request #jj maybank imagine #jj Maybank fan fiction #jj Maybank Drabble #jj Maybank x reader #outer banks #obx #outer banks writing #obx writers

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billhaderlovebot · 5 years

Text

beep beep (4) - richie tozier

some sexy stuff, swearing, angst, the usual. i don't know how many more parts there are going to be but if 5 is the last one then prepare for a Big Boy™

@ceruleanrainblues @the-star-above-you @a-second-hand-sorrow @shockwavee

----

the divorce was messy. timothy took pretty much everything on the grounds that you had run off with another man (which you thought was pretty fair) and he also had slandered your name in front of your whole family in court, which was actually quite petty of him. richie almost murdered him, that day, and had to keep his hand in yours so that he wouldn't get up and break timothy's nose again right in front of his big-shot lawyer.

your family, it was safe to say, did not approve of richie, because timothy was always such a nice boy, and you've made a terrible mistake, dear. the only one who ever did like richie was your grandmother, and she was long gone, bless her cotton socks.

so, yeah, you'd run off with richie.

yeah, you'd escaped from an unhappy marriage in which you never felt loved to be with someone who looked at you like you hung the fucking moon.

okay, granted, you did sleep with richie that night, which wasn't entirely moral, considering you were married to another man, but, yknow, timothy hadn't gone anywhere near you in months and months, and richie was just so good at the sex thing.

also, you loved him. so much.

leaving you with barely enough money to pay your hospital bills sucked. you weren't even sure how timothy was able to do that legally.

but it was alright. you took your stuff and moved into richie's penthouse apartment in malibu almost as soon as you'd been discharged from the hospital. he had made enough money over the first half of his trash-mouth tour to support the both of you for the time being, and he cancelled the reno dates, and all the dates for the foreseeable, because all he wanted to do was be around you and the rest of the losers.

your books and mugs and weird stuff that you'd hoarded over the years slowly spread themselves around richie's apartment, and it made him so happy because it was so utterly domestic.

whenever he saw your shoes in the hallway or your toothbrush in the weird ceramic holder with a bee on it that bev had bought him, he grinned like a stupid, lovestruck idiot, because he was a stupid, lovestruck idiot.

eddie came over a lot, regularly crashing in the spare bedroom because he, too was going through a divorce, and myra kaspbrak was quite a bit more intimidating than timothy. so, that became eddie's room while he was looking for his own apartment.

and you were so fucking happy.

the piece of string that had been serving as your engagement ring after richie proposing on a whim was a constant reminder of how loved you were, and you tied a matching one around his finger, because you didn't feel it was fair that he got to do the whole cute proposal thing.

it had been six months since derry. since the sewers, since defeating IT for the final time. since reuniting with your soulmate. you were sure that life couldn't get better.

eventually, you'd gotten an actual ring.

richie had given it to you on a whim, as usual, opening the little ring box in your direction while you were both surrounded by chinese food, the fourth consecutive episode of snapped playing in the background.

you had choked on your wok-fried garlic and soy broccoli, and he'd thumped your back so you wouldn't almost die, again, which hurt your recovering shoulder, and then he had panicked, and you were crying and laughing and choking all at the same time.

point is, he had given you a ring.

it was a thin, gold band with three little diamonds set into the middle, and you had immediately fallen in love with it.

you hadn't, however, wanted to take off the piece of string, so you wore it on the same finger as the proper engagement ring. richie was relieved because he also hadn't wanted to take the string off.

that night, after some really really great celebration sex, (albeit a little careful, as you sometimes got sharp pains up and down your ribs if you exerted yourself too much) richie bared his soul to you.

he told you everything.

and he cried, and he trembled because he was so scared of ending things with you before they had even begun.

it was the first time he had ever said it out loud.

"i'm bisexual."

and he had let out a breath, then. a breath that he had been holding in for almost three decades.

"oh, richie." and you held him to you without a second thought.

you had always known, somehow.

you'd known, for the same reason one knows the sun has risen. because you had eyes.

you'd seen how richie had always gravitated towards eddie, always grabbing onto him in moments of distress, the soft looks richie would give him when he didn't have time to put up his walls. you knew, and you loved him all the same. of course you did.

you didn't tell him, however, that you had known.

because this moment was so important. the moment where he finally had control over his life and his identity and he was spilling his heart out to you. you would not take that away from him.

this was his time. his moment. his life.

he told you about eddie, and the arcade, and the kissing bridge, and how he'd always, always pushed it down but now it was only the two of you, and if he was to marry you, he wanted everything out in the open.

and god damn you if you let him keep hating himself.

"richie, thankyou for telling me. im so happy that you... that you felt you could talk about it. and to me."

"so... you're not..."

"angry? no. honey, this is who you are. what kind of partner would i be if i didn't love you for who you are? you're perfect, richie."

he cried again, and you let him, because he fucking needed it.

----

richie's nightmares were bad.

really, really fucking bad.

he didn't have them as much as beverly said she had, because, while he had been caught in the deadlights, It was dead and couldn't push into his mind any further. he often couldn't remember what they were about, only that he woke up so scared he would cry. the deadlight-induced terrors came and went, but they always caught both of you off guard.

when it first happened, you were more than a little bit confused, because richie was not a restless sleeper.

you woke to quiet whimpers coming from the man sleeping beside you as he writhed under the bedlinen.

in your sleep-addled haze, it took you a minute to understand what was happening, wiping the sleep from your eyes and adjusting to the darkness.

what, moments ago, was little more than disturbed whimpers, was now loud, heart-fucking-wrenching sobs, the only sound in the otherwise silent apartment.

his body shook next to yours and you were beginning to panic, reaching for him.

"richie? baby, wake up." you shook him lightly, noting the sweat practically dripping from him, and his face, scrunched in fear. he whined lowly, jerking in the bed, but he did not wake. you hadn't been faced with such a situation before, especially not with him, so this was touch and go.

this had never happened before and you were absolutely shitting bricks.

you shook him again, and he jolted awake, crying out as he sat up with a start.

"richie?"

his eyes snapped open, searching wildly around the room for something that wasn't there.

the only light came from the moon and city lights outside your house. sobs of pain overtook him, great, heaving breaths, and then the man you were in love with was crying his fucking eyes out in front of you; fisting his hands in his sweat-soaked hair as his whole body shuddered.

they were tremors he had no control over, the aftershocks of the nightmare taking control of him.

it broke your heart. your face softened as you reached for him again.

god, he held on to you so tight that you almost started crying yourself.

"eddie..." he choked. "ben didn't warn him in time. and i-i-i couldn't... fuck-"

"eddie is at home." you murmured, pressing your lips to his sweat-slick forehead "a ten minute drive. he just moved in. we can go up to see him tomorrow, if you want."

"It's... It's in my head." richie sobbed. the front of your shirt was soaked through with tears. "It's still in my head."

"It's dead, richie."

"so why can i still feel it?"

and you didn't know what to tell him.

---

your first fight, needless to say, sucked.

you didn't even remember what you were fighting about, only that you screamed at each other a lot, and there were tears, and it ended with richie, head in his hands, asking you to leave him alone for a minute in a voice so uncharacteristically calm that it scared you. and so you left for the bedroom, shutting the door, your head swimming and chest burning from the sobs you'd been caging in there.

you knew, realistically, that this was just one fight, and you'd be back to normal within the hour, but this was the first fight you'd had since you were kids, and god only knows how hot headed you'd gotten in the 27 years since then. both of you.

and you hated yourself for letting it get this far and making him not want to be around you.

it was times like this, when richie's nightmares were at their worst and you woke up every night like fucking clockwork to make sure he was real and still there and still breathing, and eddie came round constantly because he couldn't stand being alone in a new place, it was times like this that you needed to be close. so while it was just a dumb fight, you allowed yourself to cry.

richie clicked open the door about half an hour later, shuffling into the room. his eyes were red and he was probably shaking a little bit, you thought.

"im sorry." his voice came out small, and you sat up from the bed immediately.

"no, im sorry, rich. i was overreacting and it was fucking stupid and we need to just-"

and richie all but staggered forwards, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you, hard. you gasped, and he used the opportunity to gain access to the inside of your mouth. cheeky bastard.

you both had been crying for a while, so the kiss was rather wet, but you overlooked it on account of the fact that his hand was not-so-discreetly sliding up your shirt and fumbling at your bra clasp. as suave as he liked to think he was, his bra skills needed work. he eventually did it, and seemed more than a little bit proud of himself, muttering a triumphant: "fuck yeah."

you tugged richie's bottom lip between your teeth and he fucking groaned. and that noise coming from his mouth was so fucking hot that your knees almost buckled.

you made a mental note to do the sex thing really really well tonight, because the sex thing was definitely happening and it had been a bad night for the both of you and you fucking needed him, right the fuck now.

it wasn't long before you ended up underneath him, and he was pressing open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, and you were breathing hard and you honestly thought that if he didn't get the fuck on with it you'd probably die right there.

"rich- ahh- richie?"

"yes, baby?"

god, how the fuck was he so smug all the time?

"i think you should- fuck, oh my god- probably get on with things right the the fuck now, or i'll have to... i'll-" you curled your fingers into his hair, your nails scratching across his scalp.

"or?" he hummed, continuing his ministrations everywhere except where you wanted them.

"i'll have to, mmmh, hurt you, actually." you whispered, breathless. you were unable to form a solid argument, what with richie fucking tozier being so sexy and all, teasing the shit out of you.

"you will?" richie put a hand on each of your legs and spread them further apart, his lips relentless, sucking and biting your sensitive flesh. this man was going to fucking kill you, god.

"yeah, yeah, i'll- ahh- bite your fucking face off, or something-"

and then he was between your thighs, right fucking there, so he never did find out what that something actually was, because whatever came out of your mouth after that wasn't decipherable.

---

"we shouldn't fight." richie murmured, as if he was afraid of being too loud in case he broke the moment.

you traced gentle patterns on his chest with your fingertips.

"i know." you said, equally as cautious.

"but i don't even remember what we were fighting about, and we just had several rounds of the apology." he laughed quietly, kissing your bare shoulder.

smirking at the hickeys on your collarbone, he pressed a kiss there, too, admiring his handiwork.

"i love you, fuck face." you yawned, your eyes fluttering shut.

"yeah, and i love you, dickweed."

richie stared fondly at the piece of string around his ring finger. you would be alright. after all, your wedding was coming up.

he had no nightmares that night.

#it richie #adult richie #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #beep beep richie #losers club x reader #losers club #it 2019 #it chapter 2

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ixeliema · 5 years

Text

Okay this is going to be pretty personal and potentially triggering so I'm leaving that here at the top. I'm going to be discussing depression and self harm here and I will tag accordingly. I will not be specific or speak of it in detail because a lot of people read posts like these at their lowest points and it does nothing but hurt already very troubled people to read.

These bubbles are covering an injury I inflicted upon myself at work today after my manager called me in to a meeting with him to speak about the amount of missed days of work I'd taken in the last two-three weeks.

How it happened doesn't matter. The only context you need for it is that I missed four days due to a contagious illness and one day due to a stomach bug that had me physically unable to leave the bathroom. I work long hours and in my store's home department. I work hard and never do things 80% or lower at work and it's exhausting at times.

Well...yesterday I had a panic attack that lasted for almost four hours and knew I couldn't work in this state. I had been curling into a ball, screaming, sobbing, (tw) pulling my hair.

I called in and my manager told me we'd need to talk about my missed days. Fine. I accept that. Today I dreaded the inevitable call back and when it happened he told me that two of my customers had filed complaints on me within two days last week.

One I will admit is justified. He was talking about gun issues and complaining that retail stores should sell guns, meanwhile I am from a college that was shot up and I am fucking terrified of guns. I don't mind not selling them. Especially in light of El Paso recently.

The other was a lady who noticed I was sweaty and tired after having to manually enter her discounts for about 25 apparel items because her digital coupon wasn't ringing right and it was a system issue. I had an injury between my fingers at the time and all the typing to fix the prices was pulling apart my scab and I had begun to bleed through my bandage. At the end of the transaction, she made eye contact with me and asked "I'm sorry...are you IRRITATED with me?" I don't remember exactly what I said but I said something like "no ma'am I'm bleeding". Well apparently 'no' means I'm still a bitch who needed reported to her manager.

The first...fine. I was out of line there. I shouldn't have let him goad me on. But the second pisses me off. Not happy because three strikes on my record is cause for termination due to disregard for customer satisfaction. This sucks a lot. But then my manager talks about my missed days and why they happened. I mentioned my sicknesses and cited a literal rule (if you are contagious or having issues with bodily fluids don't come in" at him. Yesterday I told him my situation. I was unable to breathe. See. Anything. I cited my mental illness and told him it was very bad yesterday. He kind of brushed me off. (Which in itself fucking infuriates me bc mental health isn't a goddamn joke!)

Then he told me to evaluate myself and whether or not this job is right for me. I also have a physical injury and I require a brace. Even with it sometimes I have sore days and pain that I can't control due to walking about four to five miles a day at work. It sucks but with the brace I can survive. I need this job to live after all, and I don't mind the coworkers or the job itself. It just sucks when I'm working 48 hours in a row with a lot of mental and physical barriers to my success.

He told me to my face that if I didn't feel I was capable of doing the job to quit. And then he told me he needed someone "more reliable" for the position because of the business' needs.

I kind of broke at that point. And I blacked out into a relapse of my self harm after the meeting was through. I pride myself on two things: my sense of humor even in dark times (comes with the territory of mental illness), and the fact that I strive to be reliable. My manager telling me to my face that I wasn't reliable broke me.

See I would be more understanding if he hadn't just told me that five of my six missed days were perfectly acceptable. But after he learned of the last one amd why he kind of shifted gears. And I hated it very much.

He's worked for x corporation nearly 20 years and no one will question his authority. He works hard and is pretty good with his workers. Honestly he's a little sexist and clearly doesn't think mental illnesses are a big deal, but he's good at what he does. So hearing an authority figure (the type of person I've learned to fear because I'm never good enough) tells me I'm not one of the qualities I fucking FIGHT for...I broke.

But this story isn't why I wanted to post it. Yeah I could rant about the rude manager and the customers and that dumb "customer is always right" mentality (which they could prove wrong if they just looked up the security footage for the rude lady!)

No I'm here because when I got home from working 2-11...bordering tears and panic all day and sweatier than anyone living in Arizona right now...I hopped in the bath for a soak and to give myself time to heal from the long arduous day.

My mind has been full of intrusive thoughts about my worth and how I broke my streak of being clean from self harm and how that makes me a coward. That kind of joyous stuff.

I sat up to get my phone to text my friend and saw that my knee (where my injury is) was covered in bubbles.

I don't know why...but that means a lot to me right now. Like...I'm taking care of myself after probably the worst day I've had since my dad died. I'm taking time to heal. I'm trying to pick up the pieces of my soul after a long and painful day. And it felt like for a moment, the universe understood that looking at my wound hurt me as much as the wound itself hurt. It wanted me to not dwell on it.

Obviously this isn't a magic "I'm no longer depressed" moment but for me, seeing the bubbles...a sign (at least to me) of trying to take care of myself masking the pain of my depression and anxiety.

Today has been a very tough day for me with a lot of manic episodes and a lot of depressive ones, and though I can wear the face that I'm okay...it cracked a lot today and I let my ugly side seep out. And seeing the bubbles covering my wound I deadass cried about it, y'all.

This tells me that even on your worst days, taking care of yourself and trying to find time to recover can help you to heal. And I wanted to post this because I think this story might help someone. Even just one person. Maybe even just myself someday when out of the blue I check my (very small) tag for original posts.

The TLDR of this is that this occurence kind of showed me that taking care of yourself...even in tiny, seemingly insignificant ways, can really help you to not dwell on pain as much.

And before someone hijacks this and says this won't apply to everyone...I know. But I hope someone sees this image of bubbles on a goddamn kneecap and thinks to themselves that they ought to take better care of themselves after a bad day. After a relapse. After feeling so defeated you considered suicide. Consider healing. Consider trying to help yourself, even just in one small way.

That's about all I have to say other than "fuck I work the next three days and I'm not stoked to go fake a smile as a cashier for 27 more hours even if I'm being paid"

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droo216 · 7 years

Note

Hey, sorry, this is kind of a weird question, but you're the only person I can think of to come with this to. I've also been a big time fan of Peter Pan ever since I was a kid, but I'm about to graduate high school this Saturday. So I just wanted to ask - from one Pan fan to another... how did you deal with growing up?

Okay first of all, please accept my apology for this delayed response. I’m so sorry that it has taken me so long to reply, but growing up has been hard, so it’s a major reflection to talk about.

Second of all, congratulations! I hope the end of your time in high school went smoothly and that you’re excited about whatever may come next!

As for your question.

Dang, I’ve started to tear up already and I haven’t even started typing.

I’ve said before that the reader is meant to identify with Wendy’s role in the story - ultimately, she realizes that growing up is important and a natural part of life, and she allows herself to be excited about her potential for her future. But I get where Peter is coming from too. The future is scary. Psychological studies have shown that most people are optimistic about the future - we tend to believe things will get better rather than worse. We think the future holds a better job, a happier home, a full family, and so on. But I think many of us are left with the question: what if it doesn’t get better?

In high school, I was a pretty quiet person. I got straight As, I was a model student. I shown most brightly in choir and definitely in theatre. I went through many different ideas of what I wanted to do - author, actor, elementary teacher, even a dentist at one point. But I was the theatre kid. I loved theatre, I’ve done it consistently since I was seven years old, I’ve done dozens and dozens of shows. It was, in a way, the path of least resistance.

In college, as is often the case, others were lit more brightly than I was. It wasn’t a shock, I expected to receive smaller roles and understudies in my first year, but other freshmen were playing John Proctor and Abigail in The Crucible while I was sitting quietly in the back as Ezekiel Cheever, who has maybe ten lines in the whole show. I got my share of leading roles as my time progressed and I was cast every semester - but I just wasn’t ever the gem of the department. My friends were.

I went to school thirty minutes away from my hometown. It was just far enough to get away while still having that safety net. Around my sophomore year, a friend of mine did the Disney College Program and I started getting it in my head that I wanted to go work at Disney too. I’m sure my closely-guarded secret crush on him was related to this, but I also love Disney and it seemed like a natural step. Again, the path of least resistance. I’ve always had a connection to Florida anyway because I was born here, and I also needed the distance from my hometown that Orlando provided to allow me to - pardon the horrible cliche - “find myself.” Let’s say, I needed to… figure some things out.

I’ve learned the most about myself and life in general in my time down here in Florida. I still have a hard time thinking of myself as an adult. I’ve lived with many different roommates, with both positive and negative results. I’ve taken on a lot more responsibility financially, but my dad still covers my phone bill and we all share my sister’s Netflix account. I now live in a house - a real house! - but we rent it from a guy in the Netherlands and it takes a total of five roommates to cover the rent and we have almost zero furniture in the shared spaces because we all came from apartments where the other people owned the couches and tables and chairs.

There’s a lot of yucky things about growing up. Bills are the worst part. I hate cleaning dishes. I don’t mind putting the laundry in but taking it out and folding and hanging everything is a drag. I made spaghetti for the first time a month ago and my first ever grilled cheese two weeks ago. I always put off vacuuming as long as possible. Maintenance for my car is beyond annoying.

But responsibility means freedom. Growing up ties you down in many ways but it releases you in others. Don’t want to make the bed? You don’t have to. As long as you’re happy with an unmade bed, you’re allowed to do that. (I love having a made bed, which is probably shocking to absolutely no one.) Want to eat ice cream for dinner? You can. It’s not great for you, but sometimes you just need some ice cream and now there’s no one to tell you no. And the sucky parts of growing up often yield positive results. That grilled cheese I made? I NAILED it on the first shot, it turns out I make a FANTASTIC grilled cheese, and now I think I’m a gourmet chef every time I butter up a couple pieces of toast and put some Kraft slices between them. Keeping up with the car is rough, especially because I don’t know a thing about cars - but I have a car. I can go wherever I want, whenever I want. I often don’t. But if I wanted to, I could. I probably don’t exercise the freedom that growing up allows as much as I could, honestly.

Growing up is always on my mind. I’m 27. I thought I’d be married by 25 but I am very single with no potential suitor in sight. My dad was my age when I was born. I still text him every time I have a question about student loans or any money thing, really. I feel like I should know all this stuff by now, but every day I learn a little bit more and get a little closer to total responsibility. I hate that I’m this age and can’t afford my own place or even a couch for the place I do have. It’s like the lovely lady says in Finding Neverland about the crocodile’s role in the play. Time is chasing all of us.

The roughest part has been this year. Receiving a Stage III C colon cancer diagnosis at the age of 27 was surreal. When the doctor said the word “cancer,” I had a Hermione Granger response. I was very matter-of-fact, very clinical. When I told a friend that night and said the word “cancer” out loud with my own lips, I broke down in tears. I’m a fully grown man with a job and a house and a beard and I felt like a child inside. I was terrified. I still am. It’s not done, and it’s never going to be. This is something I’ll have to keep checking in on for the rest of my life.

This is a pattern I have begun to notice about being a grown up. Things don’t go away. You fix the car and something else breaks. You empty the dishwasher and fill it right back up. You go to the doctor and find out a diagnosis and now you have to monitor that continuously. You come out to your close friends, you finally come out to your family, you think it’s done, I’m out, I’m free - but you just escape from a tiny cage and found out that that cage was inside another one that is only marginally bigger than the first, and every time you meet someone new, you have to come out again and again and who knows how they’re going to react. I know there’s another Neverland-related simile here but I can’t think of what it is.

I still think grown-up me is someone that exists in the future, not in the present. I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up. It’s changing all the time. For now, I have enough battles to get through, the job is the least of my concerns. And when I think about my future, if someone were to ask me what I want in the coming years, the job doesn’t even come to mind. I think about my relationships and what I want those to look like. That’s not the case for everyone, but it’s something important I’ve realized about myself.

Here’s a thought: Peter Pan loves being a child because he thinks it brings him freedom. But Wendy sees how trapped Peter is, physically and mentally and emotionally, and realizes that she must return to the responsibilities that await her in adulthood in order to grow and earn that ability to make your own choices. That’s what growing up is. Making your own choices.

I honestly don’t know if I’ve answered your question. I have to tell you though, you’re not alone in this feeling. I’m probably almost a decade older than you and I feel the same way. Growing up is an awfully big adventure. It’s daunting. But if we don’t keep moving forward, we will trap ourselves even further.

I hope this helps, and I hope you’re doing well. I’d love to hear from you about how you’re feeling as we hit halfway through your first summer post-graduation. If I remember right, it doesn’t entirely feel like everything is changing yet because the first summer just feels like part of the school cycle that you’re used to. Autumn is when it feels like the next stage has begun.

I think that’s all I have to say for now. I poured more of my heart out than I expected to. I’m sending faith and trust your way - I’m sure we both need them right now.

#drew answers #anonymous #about me #long post

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