No chill
Plug!Connie x black reader
Ever since you and Connie first had sex, he’s had NO chill.Connie didn’t necessarily do anything for you to block him, he only gave you the best dick and aftercare of your life and damn near had you in love with him.
That’s why he absolutely HAD to be blocked otherwise you would’ve probably be impregnated with his seed right now! Per your request.
You knew Connie had been trying to get in contact with you from the various text now numbers that have swarmed your phone since the morning he woke up expecting to see you on his bed side, only for him to wake up to you long gone with no way of contacting you.
His first instinct that morning was to text your mutual friend Sasha and figure out what the fuck was going on, there was absolutely no way in hell you were about to give him some heavenly pussy and then block him on everything including TikTok.
Connie had to find a way to see you and if you weren’t going to face him like the grown woman you claim you are he would have to come up with a way to make you see him.
You sprayed your face with the urban decay all nighter setting spray, the night you were about to have with your friends Sasha and Mikasa you needed your makeup on all damn night!
Just finished flat ironing that all black 30 inch buss down, applying gloss, and blinking the FUCK out your mink eyelashes, you felt unstoppable right now.
The outfit you wore was basic, but the face made up for it, besides according to Sasha she was just throwing a small kickback with a few familiar friends EXCLUDING Connie.
You had to make sure the excluding Connie was very much mentioned when she pitched the idea, and she promised you that he wouldn’t be there even tho she had no idea why you don’t want him around you anyway.
You couldn’t tell her cause it would be far to embarrassing to say “I can’t be around him because the dick is toooo good and I’m gonna become an obsessed dickmatized slut if I keep talking to him”
Not that it was any of their business anyway.
As you were getting lost in your thoughts you got a text from your group chat
“Y/nnnnn we’re outsideeee”
Getting up so excitedly after not being out the house for so long, it felt nice to finally get out the house and even it was for just for a few moments.
Walking out of your apartment doors you spot Sasha’s blacked out kia k5, sash in the passenger since Mika didn’t drink she would’ve been the designated driver.
Hopping in the car happy as fuck! To see your girls after a long time, when you got in reaching up to the front to give them hugs you noticed the opened Don Julio and Hennessy bottles sitting under Sasha feet.
“Damn bitch you started without me?”laughing as she was already bending down to pass you one of the bottles
“I’m sorry pookie I couldn’t wait, you know I wasn’t gone leave you hanging tho” sash responded laughing obviously tipsy
Taking your sip twisting your face as the burning sensation hit the back of your throat, it was never a feeling you could get used to.
The effects you loved tho.
Mikasa driving while west district by party next door played had you zoned out and before you knew it you were outside of Sasha’s big ass house
Multiple cars parked around the block, and at this point you were confused cause it was supposed to be a small kick back??
“Umm Sasha this is a big ass party” you could literally even see people splashing around in the pool.
“It was supposed to fucking be” she said visibly upset
She seemed to have sobered up seeing all these people here, it was evident that she didn’t know all these people were gonna be here.
She immediately got up and stormed inside looking to see where would yall friend group be since somebody in there had to be the culprit that told one to many mofucking people, and of course you and Mika stormed right behind her cause who was running they mouth like that.
as soon as y’all spotted yall group you all stormed over there
Until you spotted a familiar face that had you stopping in your tracks.
Upon Sasha running up to the corner the resided in heads turned toward her, seeing Sasha Connie instantly turned his head past her looking for you.
And he seen you, frozen and confused, his eyes seemed to have darken looking at you, and you didn’t know what thoughts ran through his head you just know they weren’t good ones.
Slipping past an upset Sasha making his way towards you his brown eyes locked on yours.
You don’t know why you didn’t move, walk away, or just leave.
Part of you wanted to see him yes possibly for an apology maybe but the other part really didn’t, I mean there was a reason you blocked him right?
His hand touched yours bringing you out of your thoughts, you weren’t scared just confused because why is he not mad at you?
“Hi..?” The tone of confusion is very evident on your voice
Connie didn’t respond with words, instead he quickly wrapped his hand around your neck bringing you face to face.
“Why’d you block me y/n”
You were to stunned and turned on to speak, his grip tightened around your neck making you whimper and close your eyes
“You don’t wanna speak baby? Mhm k” he let go of your neck and grabbed your hand leading you to the steps of the home
The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy as You could only imagine what he was about to do to you.
“Mmph mmphhhhh”
The squelching as Connie fucking your throat was absolutely disgusting.
His hands resided on the sides of your face roughly thrusting into your mouth as you sat in front of him on your knees, spit dripping down his shaft and down your chin.
“Ouuu fuck ma” Connie hisses
“You don’t wanna tell me why? Ima just have to fuck it out of you baby”
He gripped your hair, pulling you away from his dick, gasping for air as you came up.
With one hand on your hair and the other resting below your chin he looked down at you
“Open your mouth” complying with no further complaints Connie spat directly on to your tongue not letting you swallow before sticking his fingers down your mouth.
Pushing you backward onto the bed he sat on his knees, grabbing your thighs before licking a long stripe up to your clit.
The moan you let out was audible, your skirt still on thong to the side as Connie constantly lapped up on your juices.
The fingers that were previously in your mouth began to rub ferociously at your clit while he tongue fucked you.
You Tried to push his head away, an unsuccessful attempt to get away from the brutal pleasure you were receiving
It was all to much
“Co-con pleaseee, oh myyy FUCKKK”
The orgasm washed over you quicker than you anticipated it to.
Your juices rushing out against his face as he desperately tried to suck up every last drop, while rubbing against your clit with his four fingers.
It was all to much and you felt like you seriously couldn’t take it, not when even after you squirted all on his face he still was licking your soaked slit.
“Mmphhh”, his long arms wrapped around your thighs as you tried to run as he kept his face nuzzled into your pussy.
“Stop trynna run from me mama” his arms had your legs on lock you couldn’t move
“He gave your sensitive bud one last lick before he came up gripping your neck pulling you in for the sloppiest kiss.
“Vas a decirme por qué me bloqueaste, incluso si tengo que joderte, bebé”
You had no idea what he just said, but to be honest you don’t really care with the way he had your ankles resting on his shoulders, just watching him stroke his thick veiny shaft.
His reddened tip had pre cum leaking out of it
He took his thumb and wiped some of it sticking his thumb in your mouth making you moan at the salty taste
“You so wet for me mama” he moaned sliding his tip up your slit
The gasp you both let out as he slipped inside of you was universal
He laid his head by yours as you wrapped your legs and arms around
Moaning at the feeling of his thick cock stretching out your warm walls
The feeling was so so good it had you moaning at the thought of just getting fucked by him.
“Connie m-move please baby”
He followed your command slowly pushing more in groaning slightly
“You want me to fuck you baby?”
“Mhm hmmm” you answered so quickly shaking your head
“No y/n I told you this last time” he said grabbing your chin lightly slapping your face “do you want me to fuck you?” The whine you let out was so desperate.
He was so sexy being this dominant
“Yes Connie please fuck me”
His thrust sped up immediately
Your neck was his hands resting place as he fucked into you
You felt so good right now his moans in sync with yours
In fact everything was in sync
The rhythm of everything matched together perfect like a puzzle piece
His hot heavy breathing in your air had you feral
“Oh my fu… Connie you’re so deeppp”
You swear you felt him in your brainnnnn, this is why you couldn’t keep talking to this man he was hitting it so right.
“Where you feel me at baby”
You couldn’t respond, not with the way he was fucking on you
“Y/n talk to me” he wanted you to speak cause he had a lot of things to question you about.
“Con I can’t” you cried out, eyes shut legs shaking, and your orgasm nearing
“Oh yes you can mama, if You can tell me you can’t you can tell me where you feel this dick y/n”
You moaned, he was talking to you so nasty and you loved it
“I feel it baby” you whined in response
“right here” your hand lightly rested on the bottom of your stomach
His hand reach down pressing onto your lower abdomen making your mouth form an O shape
“Oh shit connieee fuck”
“Mhmm I know mami, I know”
The pressure, combined with his slow sloppy strokes had you about to come.
“Connie I’m gonna cum, oh fuck I’m gonna cum”
The words were rushing out of your mouth quicker than you can think.
“Cum for me baby, cum on this dick baby”
And that you did with a long drawn out moan you were squirting and creaming all over his throbbing dick.
“Oh fuck ma” his thrust were slowing down trying not to nut with you
“Intentas volverme loco en este coño y dejarte embarazada, ¿eh?”
He pulled out slowly rubbing against your slit
“Turn around and get on all fours”
“Connie.” You puffed out of breath
“Nah turn around, you still gotta tell me why you blocked me mama.”
AHHHH I need him so bad
Did y’all like it? And as always not proof read
The first ep of influencer island is coming….once I start writing it 🙂↕️
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Goodbye, Fourth of July (18+)
pairing: lee chan x fem!reader
genre: college au, best friends to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), hints of crack?
description: it's the fourth of july when you realize you're in love with your best friend. unfortunately though, it seems that he doesnt love you back, and this knowledge sends you spiraling. you push him away, but chan just wants to know why you're so upset
warnings: v v sad, pining, brief mention of s/a, chan is kinda dumb in this fr, reader is dramatic af tho, unprotected sex, desperation, praise kink, finger sucking, titty sucking, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl, sweet heart, good girl, cumslut once), mentions of alcohol and weed, irene is chans gf in this but shes not a villain shes mother fr
quotes from my proofreader: "my soul left my body", "no this is too personal", "i feel like im having a panic attack"
wordcount: 8.2k
Fireworks exploded across the sky the night your life was ruined.
Down the gray, dim corridors of your campus where room after room was ablaze with idle lights, daring to imitate the stars above them. Every crevice of the left wing was filled with the noise and decorum of a college frat party, where people lived out their own lives simultaneously to yours - yours, that was shattering into millions of pieces onto Yoon Jeonghan’s kitchen floor. Every moment of teasing, of lingering touches, of adoring smiles, of secret memories and exchanged glances came hurdling onto you on the 4th of July, red solo cup long forgotten in your hand. You were in love with your best friend.
“I’m in love with Chan,” you whispered, looking blankly across the room to see him leaned back against the couch, flashing a bright smile at Mingyu beside him. His blonde mullet - the one, that he had been so terrified to get, and only did so, when you told him he would look great - was tousled and spiky across his neck. He was wearing a red bomber jacket over a white tee, and he looked so good you thought you might cry.
Soonyoung wouldn’t have heard your confession - was it a confession? Admittance? Defeat? - had he not been standing right beside you. He thanked God that your words were not lost to the music and to the ambiance, to lay and die in the sticky, hardwood floor. “What?!”
He was yelling over the music. You turned over to him, mouth cracked into a frown. “What?! You’re in love with Chan?! Seriously?!” He started bouncing and giggling, ignoring your hands coming to grab onto his forearms. He had predicted this exactly five months ago.
“Shut up, Soonyoung, seriously!” You were yelling too, barely overcoming the booming voice of Kesha on the speakers. Bathed in pink light, letting your nails trail over the kitchen counter, you felt your heart becoming soft and trembling.
Your life was ruined.
“What the fuck am I gonna do?” you cried, feeling Soonyoung spin you at your shoulders until he was right in front of you, alcohol dampening the air between you.
“What do you mean? You’re gonna confess to him. You guys are literally in love with each other” He said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world. As if you hadn’t been best friends since freshman year; as if you didn’t know his favorite animal cracker shape and the exact model of his everyday sneakers.
“I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I can?”
“COMINGGG THROUGHHHHHHHH!” Frat-house dork Seokmin pushed between you and Soonyoung with a sky-high Vernon on his trail. Vernon shimmied apologetically, eyes sunken and red. “Getting cross-faded,” he supplied helpfully.
“As you should,” Soonyoung mumbled, slightly peeved in his tone, but Seokmin and Vernon seemed too intensely high to notice his disdain. You were too floaty to be offended by their sudden intrusion. The party, the floor, the music, the stench of sweat had become distant and you felt very alone with your heart. And Kwon Soonyoung, of course.
“You can! Right now! I’ve been telling you for months!” He shook you by your shoulders, apparently sensing your distance. You looked up at him with furrowed brows, tugging at the strapless end of your short, glittery dress. “But he’s-” you inhaled sharply. “He’s not gonna love me back, Soon.” Soonyoung cut you off with a scoff. “He’s so in love with you! He looks at you like you’re the only girl in the…”
Soonyoung trailed off, eyes peering past you into the crowd. “Oh shit,” His eyes widened, settled on you, then flicked back up. What the fuck was he looking at? “Uh, as I was-” you moved to look, struggling against his suddenly deadly grip on your shoulders “- no, don’t look!” He moved to stop you, but it was too late. You scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes, finding yourself confused as to what he’d been crying about. That is until you saw him. Red bomber now discarded, Chan had removed himself from the couch and was currently grinding on your biochem-classmate, Irene.
Oh. Okay.
You felt like cold hands grabbed onto your throat from within, as it contracted and tears stung your eyes. There it went, your heart and all its pieces on the floor, and weighing you down like an anchor, was the knowledge that you’d spend the rest of your life picking them up.
”God fucking damnit. This is awful, I’m awful,” your head was spinning, and you could barely make out how your fishnetted legs started moving, let alone how the tips of Soonyoung’s fingers brushed against your bare back to pull you back to him. You needed to get out. Out, out, out.
You squeezed through the tight crowd, avoiding the gaze of your classmate Seungcheol, who tried to smile at you from where he stood. This had to be some sort of mistake. Some sort of illusion brought upon you by the rhythmic movements and the loose slip of alcohol. Maybe you were hormonal? You didn’t know, but you couldn’t think while some bass-boosted playlist built dams of pressure on the sides of your head.
You finally squeezed through the door, closing it behind you and locking away that cursed, wretched memory. The further you got, the fainter the image of him. By the time you were slipping out of the hallway and into the yard, you could almost convince yourself that it was a mistake. A foolish moment, that you would tuck away and keep in a locked chest.
God, you were cold, shivering in your scrappy fabrics, as you slid down the brick wall by a flower bed, staring into the sky. It was the fourth of July, and your chest had exploded in fireworks while looking at your best friend. Every line had simultaneously been crossed and uncrossed.
You had realized it just a few minutes ago, just standing in the kitchen, when Wonwoo from history had asked you for a lighter. It had just been a graze, but you’d still felt it, in the faraway reaches of your purse. Amongst crumbs, concealer, a couple unraveled cigarettes and wired earphones with only one working side. What was that? You’d handed Wonwoo the lighter and then dug around for it again. A little slip of paper, edges soft and worn. You pulled it up.
It was just a drawing. A little scribbled dinosaur. God, you couldn’t even remember when he’d given it to you. But there you were smiling at it. And then looking at him. And then you knew.
You started crying. Hot, fat tears dripped down your cheeks, and your lips were trembling, and suddenly your body was stuttering and convulsing against the wall, and you were in love with your best friend and he was obviously not in love with you.
“Y/n?”
You snapped your head towards the door and the person you wanted to see the least in that moment (that thought made you cry even more, because when had you ever wanted anyone but him by your side when you were upset?) was peeking his blonde haired head through the door. Chan had such a heavy frown, looking down at you from the wide opened doorway.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” He was immediately crouching down, hand burning hot on your back, stroking the muscles. Another hand on your knee and it was all too much, so you pushed him away. He backed off immediately, and you wished you missed the flash of hurt on his face. He looked at you with so much worry. “What happened?”
He was sitting across from you on the pavement and you couldn’t bear to see him, lit geometrically by the moonlight and the explosions in the sky, brows creased. Averting your eyes, you fiddled with the edge of your dress and sniffled. What were you supposed to say? It was hard to say anything. You fought down the tears pressing at your eyes again, swallowing your emotions before you looked at him again, almost robotically.
“I’m fine,” you said, nodding, and only adding more when his face twisted in confusion. You were always honest with each other, he thought, why were you lying? “It’s stupid, I’m.. I’m on my period and my hormones are just.. Bleugh.” You found it in yourself to giggle.
Silence, only decorated with the constant stream of fireworks and distant laughter of drunk college kids. Chan studied you for a moment, legs crossed and arms slung over his knees. “Cheol said you looked upset.”
“Yeah, I, uh, I was thinking of that sad dog movie.”
Another pause. “Old Yeller.”
The distance between you had never felt wider and you were certain Chan could feel it too.
“You know you can tell me anything right?” You wished your laughter hadn’t been so heart-achingly bitter. He looked so confused. All he wanted to do was make you feel alright, why wouldn’t you let him?
A nod. “Yeah,” you breathed in deeply, tear-streaked makeup drying from the gentle wind. “I know.”
The air had become so thick, you had to gulp down breaths. Chan cocked his head to the side and looked at you soulfully. You were staring at your knees, nervously playing with your fingers, and a flush had crept up your neck to the very tops of your shiny cheeks. He sighed. “I can get, uh,” he hesitated for a moment, “I can get Soonyoung down here. If you want.” You nodded before he was even done talking. Anything was better than sitting across from him - not now. This time you knew better than to look at his face, because you knew your entire facade would break down the moment you’d catch the frown on his face at those words.
The moment Chan left, you sighed so deeply, relief and despair coming in a pair to crash over you like a wave. Soonyoung came not two minutes later and, ever the great comforter, immediately tried to make you laugh, sitting in the grass right in front of you.
“Oh my god,” he put on his best Jennifer Coolidge voice, “you look like the fourth of July!”
_____________________________
Your first instinct was to hide - to turn over a stone and lay under it without breathing. Maybe then, if you separated yourself from him the feelings would simply dissipate, like perfume throughout the day. But you and Chan had a ridiculous amount of classes together, - something you used to enjoy and cherish - and every interaction had become half-awkward.
What also didn’t help is that him and Irene did not seem to just be a party fling. You were walking the halls with him, backpack slung across your shoulder, and listening to him drone on and on about a date.
“I think it’s the blonde,” he explained, “I think she likes the blond.” He peeked his eyes over to you, as you walked and you nodded. “It looks good,” you smiled, heart crushing when his face lit up, that sharky smile playing on his lips. “Right? But I don’t know what to wear. I don’t think she liked my jacket. You know, at the party.” At the mention of the party, his giddy expression faded a little, eyes flicking back to look at you again.
You’d been different since then. A little quiet and every word a little strained, every breath a huff, every smile somewhat unable to reach your eyes. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. For the life of him, Chan couldn’t. You’d told him when you got a tampon stuck a couple months ago, you’d told him about your awful dates, about your most embarrassing moments in your life. Something had to be serious, he thought, watching the way your eyes had become darker and sunken, for you to shut him out completely.
“Y/n,” he said and his voice was abruptly so, so soft. His hand came to cradle your own, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyebrows cinched together when you looked at the way his thumb caressed your knuckles. “You are okay, right?” and all of a sudden he was so close to you, head bopping downwards to catch your eyes, a little breath becoming humid on your cheek. For just a split second, he saw how scared you were, an emotion that took up all the space in your head, widened eyes darting up to his. Then it was gone. You smiled a tight line, ripping your hand from his. “I’m good. I’d be better if we actually made it to class on time.”
You were bouncing away and for a few moments he stood still, watching you.
“Alright,” he whispered to himself.
_____________________________
You and Chan met through Seungcheol. It was your first year and you were fresh-faced, young and a totally different person. It was your first biochem project and the teacher had paired you with Seungcheol - Seungcheol, who you just so happened to know was amongst the most popular guys at school. He was sweet though, if not a little slow, but he was excited to get into the project and had invited you to his place to study. You had graciously accepted, seeing as your roommate-situation at the time was less than ideal.
You had just hunkered down with stacks of books and laptops open on his desk, when Seungcheol got a call; to this day you’re not sure about the specifics of it, and all the information you’d later been able to pry from Seungcheol was that “Jeonghan was in trouble”. Whatever the case, the man had taken the phone and immediately taken on a crease in his forehead and a small frown on his lips, before apologizing profusely and promising that he’d be back in 20 minutes or so.
And there you were, wearing a dress and hairclips and sitting idly at his desk, while his roommate sat, just a few feet from you, on his bed with a controller and a headset on. That was the first time you saw Lee Chan. He had sharp eyes that you found intimidating at the time - especially with the focused grimace he wore, something you later found endearing. And, of course, you knew he was popular as well. How couldn’t he be, when his muscles were showing through his t-shirt, and he looked beautiful even in the domestic state you found him in. Maybe especially in that situation.
“D’you wanna see me play?” he’d asked, eyes not even leaving the screen. “Um,” your voice was meek, “sure.”
Seungcheol didn’t come home for another three hours. The sky turned from a bright blue into an orange hue outside the campus-curtains, and you sat cross-legged beside Chan on his bed, watching him play Overwatch. Had it been anyone else, you were sure this would’ve been the longest, most awkward three hours of your life. But for whatever reason, you and Chan just clicked. It was all laughter and smiles, and it felt like you had known each other forever. Fate had whisked the two of you together with a gentle push. That was two years ago.
Chan defied all your expectations. Surely, a young man who was attractive and popular would be an asshole, you’d thought, but he was so sweet, something that was most apparent when he smiled and laughed, eyes becoming crescents and toothy grin becoming sharp at the upturned edges.
Maybe you’d always liked him. You’d started reflecting on your relationship after that party, and came to realize that there’d always been a faint mist in your chest. A soft hum that drummed within your ribcage, when you saw him. It was warm, pleasant and constant when you felt his warmth at your side.
And sure, your relationship had had its moments. You distinctly remembered sitting between his legs while watching a movie once, and how you’d been so uncertain if he was okay with the skinship. His face behind your ear, you heard the smile in his voice, as his hands ran along your arms: “It’s okay, N/n. I’m cool with this if you are.”
You found yourself thinking about that often, but now there was a distinct pain to the memory. It was especially painful, when the gap between you and Chan was widening with every day. He tried to reach out, tried to catch you in the halls, but you were always “busy”.
Chan caught on to the fact that you were avoiding him when you started showing up late to classes, just so you wouldn’t have to walk with him; hear him talk about Irene, while that once soft drum had become a marching band in your chest. So you scrambled inside 5 minutes late, much to the dismay of your professors, and found a spot with some random classmate - far away from Chan. You’d have your eyes turned to the board, but you couldn’t focus, not really. Like a constant thorn in your side, you felt Chan’s sharp eyes across the room, boring into with such an intensity you thought you might catch on fire. Scribbling useless notes and focusing your energy - what little energy you had - on the class, you determinedly avoid his eyes. Had you seen them, never once darting astray from your form, you’d see the tenderness they held. “Why are you avoiding me?” His eyes said.
And then: “Why are you avoiding me?” his mouth said, out of breath from chasing after you in your hurried exit. You turned to him, almost bleeding into the blue of the accented-wallpaper. His eyes softened at your wounded expression. You were gently ripping apart at the wish to see him and be around him, with simultaneous urge to ignore him and become free from his scrutinizing gaze. He would never not know that something was wrong.
He scanned the crowded hallway, and gently, almost as if testing the waters (which he hadn’t felt the need to do in years) placed a hand on your upper arm. “Come on.”
You gave in. God, it was so easy to give in. You missed him. You missed him like a fish might miss water, had it been taken away from it. You missed him like a priest misses God, when his presence ebbs away and the sky is suddenly so very empty. So it was so easy to be led on, to sit down in the passenger of his car and just close your eyes and enjoy how it felt to be beside him. Chan scanned you as he drove, laying there with closed eyes, willing yourself to not look at him again, and realize you had to throw this all away.
He said nothing that entire car ride. Maybe he sensed the desperate need you felt to just have this silence. You clung to it as if it were tangible, as if someone would take it away. He would, once you entered his apartment. Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen. You placed yourself on bed and played with the fraying edges of his IKEA duvet cover.
“I miss you.” he said. You sighed, pursing your lips and looking at your fingers. “I miss you too.”
“You’re avoiding me,” he said, only a faceless presence in your peripheral.
“I’m not avoiding y-...” you trailed off when he crouched down in front of you, your entire vision cursed (or blessed?) with his frustrated face. “You are,” he said, eyes boring into yours. You trembled. “I’m not, I’m just busy.” He backed away, sulking, and you tried not to make it obvious that you heaved in a shaky breath from the proximity. “I can tell when you’re lying, you know?”
You laid down on the bed, arms crossing over your chest as if you were a corpse. Was there a way out of this, you wondered. Every glance, every touch, and every word that dropped from his mouth poked and prodded at you sadistically.
“I’m not lying.”
You heard fumbling and raised your head to see Chan, having discarded his shirt, putting on a new one and you cringed at how your heart sped up, seeing his toned stomach, before it disappeared under a sweater. “What are you doing?” you asked. He sighed. He glanced at you before studying himself in the full-length mirror Seungcheol had stolen from Mingyu.
“I’m going on a date with Irene in, like, twenty minutes.”
A pause. You sat up.
“Oh.”
He went on, throwing around scattered clothes and grappling for a cologne in his bag. “I’m sorry, I can’t cancel this, I don’t think she’ll really appreciate it,” he laughed a little. Throwing his head over his shoulder, his smile faded when he sensed your sorrow. His heart hurt then, so he moved, freshly spritzed with the cologne you bought him last Christmas, to stand in front of you on the bed. Your breath hitched when his hand found your cheek and he was suddenly dripping with sincerity and an emotion you really hoped wasn’t pity. “I just- I really wanted to talk to you, Y/n. I’m really worried about you.” You leaned into his hand pathetically, almost whimpering against it. You missed how his embrace felt. His thumb brushed over your cheek and he lingered there, eyes trained on you for just a moment - perhaps a moment too long - before he pulled away.
Suddenly he was putting on a jacket and ruffling his hair in the mirror again. “If you want you can stay here until I come back? It’ll only be, like, an hour and a half, two hours. Cheol will be home soon, he can keep you company.”
“Yeah, maybe,” your eyes were huge, when you willed yourself to stare at the floor. Chan must’ve sensed the meekness in your voice, because he looked over at you through the mirror, a frown on his lips. “I promise we’ll talk, I just- I don’t wanna disappoint Irene.”
It ached when you responded: “There’s nothing to talk about, Channie. I’m fine.”
“I’ll see you in a couple of hours?” you only nodded half-heartedly.
“Bye, N/n.”
“Bye, Channie.”
He left with a rustle of his keys, and when the door was closed, your body contracted, muscles pulling inwards until you were hugging your knees in his sheets. And you were crying because it smelled like him, and because he had held your cheek with such care, only to leave moments later for another woman. Everything you held dear, every moment you lingered on was just one-sided. Your tears were crystalline confinements for your most treasured memories with him and you were bleeding out on his bed, sliced in the heart.
It was Seungcheol who found you there like that, curling up in his roommate’s bed with painful sobs squeezing your whole body. You told him. Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did. “I love him,” you cried, and Seungcheol stroked your back, as he listened. “And he doesn’t love me back.”
You apologized abashedly when you had calmed down, but Seungcheol only tutted and shook his head. “That’s what friends are for,” he’d said and patted your hair, and you giggled even though you felt all silly with your red face and your puffy eyes. The older man promised not to say anything, and you found yourself trusting him completely. You bid your goodbyes and felt a little lighter.
When Chan came home a heavy duvet of regret settled in his stomach. You were gone, only the faint mist of your perfume left behind in his room. When night fell, he slept on a bed stained with your tears.
_____________________________
A week passed and you spent every moment alone in your dorm room, ignoring papers and deadlines in favor of lying completely still under the covers. Soonyoung came over with food every once in a while, and always left devastated at how completely disarranged you were. He felt powerless and if there was one thing Kwon Soonyoung didn’t like, it was feeling powerless.
That was how you found yourself in a very John Mulaney-like situation on a monday afternoon, sitting before Soonyoung and, surprisingly, Seungkwan, Soonyoung’s roommate, in a nearby café.
“What is this?” you asked, arms crossed and leaned back in your seat, unimpressed. Soonyoung smiled sheepishly, sliding a paper across the table. It read “Intervention” in big, bubbly letters, colored with cheap highlighters. “An intervention?” you said incredulously.
“Yes, we’re worried about you!”
“He’s worried about you. I’m skipping physics for this,” Seungkwan butted in.
“The community is worried about you,” Soonyoung gave a harsh glare to the younger boy, who was mirroring your distaste for the current situation. “So we’re hosting an intervention.”
“This is bullshit,” you said. “Agreed,” came Seungkwan.
“Alright, you two! Let Daddy explain,” Hoshi waved his arms in outrage and the two of you groaned at the word choice. “Y/n. I am sick and tired of watching you cry and cry and sit at home over a boy who is fricken’ in love with you!”
“Did you just say ‘fricken’?”
“Unimportant. The point is get your act together and tell him or get over him!” Soonyoung was determined. While you felt his point of view was certainly unfair to you, your demeanor gave way a little. He was right, you knew. This was ruining you more than you’d care to admit. “You are worth so much more than this.”
“As much as I hate to contribute to this, Soonyoung has been telling me all about.. Your situation, and I have to say I agree. I thought you and Chan were dating until Soonyoung told me this,” Seungkwan said, smiling sympathetically at you. You frowned. “It doesn’t matter what you guys think, you know. He doesn’t see me like that.. It just fucking hurts.”
“If he doesn’t see you like that, then fuck him--”
“Don’t say that, Soonyoung--”
“You need to put your energy into a man who will know your worth!” Soonyoung sassed and Seungkwan snapped his fingers once for emphasis, face totally blank.
“I know you’re right, okay?” you reasoned, sighing. “It’s not as simple as that. I know you want to help, Soonyoung, but.. I just need time.”
Soonyoung deflated, but he understood. I guess he was a little powerless in this situation. Even Seungkwan, who definitely was not thrilled about missing physics, smiled sorely. You watched them and hated yourself for bringing worry to everyone around. Like an oil spill in the ocean, your black mass infected everything around you. They’d done nothing and here you were, parading your sadness like My Chemical Romance in 2006.
“Thank you anyway.”
_____________________________
Chan was theorizing. There were only so many things that could happen so suddenly, that could make you push him away like this. He hadn’t seen you in a week and he’d begun biting his nails again. Every waking moment had become consumed with this question: why? Why were you acting like this? Irene would pointedly comment on how quiet he was being, and his lies came like flowing water.
Chan was certain that he’d never experienced anything harder than watching you unravel everyday. Every morning more disheveled than the last, every smile more dull. Let me help you, he’d think, watching you slump in your seat on the other side of the room, running an unsteady hand over your face. You’d even found a way to avoid him after class. Day after day he’d run after you when you sped out of class, and when he reached the hallway where students were pouring out, you’d be gone like a faint ghost.
Irene ended things with him over a text. “I just don’t see us working out anymore,” it’d read and lying in his room he’d sighed quietly. He couldn’t bring himself to care. The text diverted his attention for only a minute, before he was staring at the ceiling again, thinking of you. It had to have something to do with him somehow. But no matter how much he scrutinized every interaction you’d had, he came up blank.
“Are you okay?” It was Seungcheol, standing in the doorway and hanging his jacket on their clothing rack while eyeing him. He’d hardly heard him come in. Chan heaved a sigh, long lines of worry oozing out of him.
“Y/n’s been acting really weird with me. I can’t figure out if it’s something I did,” Chan squeezed his eyes shut. “I just want her to be okay.”
Seungcheol frowned sympathetically. “Maybe you should just leave her alone.” Chan’s eyes sprung open and he grimaced, before ruffling the sheets where he sat up on the bed. Seungcheol was settling himself onto his bed, phone in hand and head against the headboard. “Why are you saying that?”
For a moment, Seungcheol flashed his brown eyes with a hint of ‘oh shit’ in them, before they relaxed and he regained composure. “I don’t know, maybe she just needs some time away from you.”
A pause swallowed the room. Chan studied his friend with furrowed brows. “Did she talk to you?”
“Uh-”
“You know why she’s acting like this!” Chan raised his voice, weeks of frustration crackling in the pit of his stomach. He stood up, so he could tower over Seungcheol’s bed. “Relax, man, I don’t know anything-”
“You do! Tell me what’s going on, Seungcheol-” Only a few words had been shared, but they’d tugged at the right strings, and suddenly Chan’s muscles were tightened as they buried into Seungcheol’s collar. The older man scowled and wrapped his hands around his roommate’s wrists in warning. Chan’s hold untightened and unscrewed and he slumped in on himself like a piece of paper, “please, Seungcheol, please. I’m going crazy.”
Seungcheol’s gaze softened. He pushed the boy’s hands away and sat up on the bed, voice a low, solemn grumble. “I can’t tell you.”
“Fucking please, Seungcheol. What if something happened to her? At that party. I keep thinking about it, how I wasn’t with her, and what if some asshole harassed her or something. I googled it and Google said women can feel lost, lonely and embarrassed over stuff like that,” Chan started pacing. “And then I was thinking what if it was a friend of ours? And maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to tell me, but, of course, I’d support her in anything she told me.”
Chan stilled in his wandering across the narrow floorspace. “Can you at least tell me she’s okay?”
All sharp eyes and blonde hair and panted breaths Chan stood in the middle of the room and waited for Seungcheol to tell him that you were okay. Chan would’ve even been at peace with Seungcheol telling him that you never wanted to see him again, fuck, as long as you were fine and you still laughed and smiled, even if it was with Soonyoung and not him.
But the answer didn’t come. Seungcheol frowned and fiddled with his watch. “I don’t think so, man.”
Whatever ties had held Chan back before snapped. He stood still for maybe three seconds in the unlit room, before his body burst into action and he was scrambling for his jacket and keys.
“Fuck this.”
Sprinting down monotonous corridors, a hard-headed Chan let wisps of blonde hair flow behind as the air kissed his cheeks. He wore the crease in his brow that had become permanently etched onto his features. Chan had a one track mind; maybe that’s why things didn’t - wouldn’t - work out with Irene. Currently, the record spinning was you and he’d gone damn near insane, so this time he’d made up his mind. He was not leaving until you talked to him. Whisking past door after door in the quiet nighttime, catching Wonwoo exiting some random dorm and smiling sheepishly, he ignored him and braved forward.
It was not until he was standing right in front of your door that he hesitated. The door framed his figure entirely, trapping him within its confines. What if Seungcheol was right? What if he was making things worse?
But for Chan, he wasn’t sure that he could go any lower. Every day had become a new rock bottom, every day that you avoided him, every moment wondering what he could have possibly done. He missed your smile. So then he was knocking at your door.
“Fuck off, Soonyoung, I’m not going to anymore interventions!” you yelled, voice hoarse from beyond the door. Intervention? Had you developed a drug problem? He knocked again and heard you groan, before heavy footsteps thumped towards him.
“What do you want, Soonyo-” you paused, door half-creaked open. Your eyes were two moons, and your nose and cheeks were red. “Chan,” you breathed, voice nasally from a stuffy nose. Chan said nothing, only pushed past you to get inside. You sniffled.
Your heart was a bomb, or maybe a firework. Chan had lit the fuse and standing before him, where he was half lit in the middle of your room, you knew it was only a matter of time before it exploded, chest blazing with a parade of colors for the fourth of July. Because it was him, a greek fucking god in your toy-decorated room, in his sweatpants and a white t-shirt, and it was you, wimpish and thoroughly out of order, in pyjama shorts and a pink sweater.
“Come. Here.” He wasn’t asking. You nodded and took two steps, and the moment you were within arms reach he enveloped you in his chest. His arms were so strong and warm, one wrapping around your waist and the other bunching up your hair to keep you pressed into him. Your cheek bunched up against his heart, you closed your eyes and heard how fast it was beating. He was scared.
“Talk to me,” you could hear it, too, the fear. His voice was trembling and even though you couldn’t see his face you could imagine his brown eyes glazed over and lips in a pout. The thought squeezed at your heart.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut at the raspiness in your voice. “Don’t be, just talk to me. Please,” his voice was a wavering breath. He pulled away, head ducking down to peer into your eyes. Your cheeks burned and you looked away, becoming completely enamored with the white of his shirt, just for the sake of not seeing his eyes. Then both his hands were on your cheeks, a little harsh at first, but then softening. “Look at me.”
He leaned closer, one hand straying from your cheek to hold you by the back of the head. “Look. At. Me.” he gritted his teeth and you felt the warmth of his face hitting yours. You did. You looked at him, saw him again, really, the guy you’d been avoiding and simultaneously praying closer to you standing before you like a kicked puppy. Suddenly you were crying. It felt like he’d turned you inside out.
“No, no, no, don’t cry, pretty, talk to me, talk to Channie, okay?” he frowned before he was pushing your face closer, nosing your cheek and hair, just a big baby in front of you, with hot and humid breaths on your freshly wetted skin when his lips brushed over it. His hand on the back of your head was only urging you closer, and his back was hunched in a long arch just so he could be with you, as close to you as possible.
And while his touch was bliss for a moment, the reality of it came crashing down, and your hands waved him off, taking a step back, which Chan followed with a step forward. He looked so hurt, hands held out for you to take but you shook your head.
“Don’t- Don’t do this to me, Chan. Not when-” you were shaking when you reached up to rub over your eyes. “Not when- Not when you have Irene to go back to.”
“Irene?” He asked incredulously, almost in outrage, almost as if the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. It spurred you on. “That’s what this is about?”
“No!” you cried, “Or- yes, I don’t know.”
Chan was silent for a few moments when you began pacing, hands over your eyes. “You were jealous?”
“No- That’s not the point!” your lip trembled when you removed your hands and looked at him again, his arms at his sides, now that he didn’t have you to hold.
“We were never going to stop being friends, you know-” his voice was quiet and yours overpowered his easily, when you screamed at him to say: “I didn’t want to be friends!”
Boom goes the dynamite, indeed. Fireworks filled every crevice of your ribcage.
“Because I love you,” you paused only to flick your eyes over to his, and you sucked in the fear. Your voice shook when you continued: “And I think I have for- for, like, a year? And I only realized on the fourth of July and there you were with Irene, and I just… And I thought if I backed off these feelings would go away, because you obviously don’t-”
“Irene broke up with me,” his voice was much quieter than yours. You wanted to scream and cry and yell, because what did that matter? Why did that matter when it changed nothing? But then he spoke again: “She broke up with me because I kept thinking about you.”
Silence. It hit you that Chan was not informing you, he was telling himself this.
“Yeah,” he scratched at the back of his neck and chuckled dryly, “I kept being quiet on our dates, ‘cause I was thinking about you. I guess she sensed it.”
You were looking at each other in the dim lights. He was so beautiful, cheeks shiny and soft lashes curling over his lids. You sniffled. “Does that mean that you-”
Yes.
Yes, it did, because before you could even finish your sentence he was taking a step forward and his hand was on your cheek again and this time his lips were on yours and fireworks, fireworks exploded in your chest and on your lips like bursts of static, but this time it wasn’t pained, it was beautiful, and you’re melting into his hold, just as he was yours. Lips moving in perfect unison, he tilted his head down and you tilted yours up, and grabbed his neck, and his other hand slid onto your waist, resting there, as the two of you rocked under the artificial light of your overhead lamp.
Everything you yearned for was in your hands and you didn't dare to pull away, only whimpering when you ran out of breath, and chasing his lips when he pulled away to breathe. He chuckled, mouth curved upwards in that beautiful smile that you love. You love it, and there’s no point in hiding it. He pressed his forehead against yours and you’re panting into each other’s mouths.
“I love you too,” he said. You grinned, a perfect blush spread across your rounded cheeks, and his heart soared so much that he had to kiss you again, pecking and mumbling it again and again against your lips: “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
His tongue slid over your lip and you opened your mouth with a squeak. His tongue was wet and warm in your mouth and his hands were suddenly on your hips, pushing them into his. Then he pulled away, blushing himself when a string of spit connects you. “Is this okay?” he asked, so softly, so gently, and you nodded, flushed and out of breath and pathetically desperate.
“Yes,” you whined, “need you so bad.” He cooed when you pressed your hips into his, long fingers brushing hair out of your face. “Channie’s gonna take care of you. Channie’s gonna make it up to you,” and yet again it's almost like he was saying it to himself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he lowered the two of you onto your bed. Hair strands stretched from their roots in your head, when you hit your plush pillow, and you were all shiny and sparkling eyes, laid out before him in a way that he never dared to imagine. “Too pretty,” he whispered, kissing you again.
He was grinding into you, anchoring himself on your waist and whimpering into the corner of your mouth at the feeling of your warm center through your shorts. “Baby, need you so bad. Can I take this off?” he tugged at your shirt and you nodded, unable to get anything out but whines. He pulled off the pink fabric, marveling at your bare chest before him. Of course, he’d seen it before, in tight shirts, on days where you’d decided to forgo a bra, and he’d always cursed himself for imagining the real thing. “You’re so beautiful,” he cried, as he hit your core just right and he stared at your tits’ slight jiggle.
“Such a pretty baby, so ready for me, can I touch them, please, please?” he was babbling, somehow already pussydrunk, but you were no better, eyebrows cinched together in pleasure, nodding without even an ounce of hesitation at his request. He groped at your chest, thumbs brushing over the hardened buds, before he ducked his head down to suck on one. You’re gasping, as his tongue flicked over you, hands tangling themselves in his hair, moaning his name into the air. He hummed loudly, and you felt a thick glob of wetness escape your pussy at just the sight of him, hunched over you like a wild animal, panting into your chest.
“You’re so pretty,” you whispered and he let go of your tit with a small ‘pop’, lifting his head to look at you. He was grinning ear to ear, face still hovering over your chest. “Am I?” and suddenly he was so cocky, hand cupping your heat through your shorts, and watching as you buck into his hand with a strangled moan. “Needy girl, need pretty Channie to touch you, hm?” He teased, fingers gently rubbing over the fabric of your damp shorts.
“Please,” you whined, thrashing in the sheets, desperate enough to cry. He cooed and shushed you, hovering over you by one, strong arm: “Shh, sweetheart, shh, I know. I got you, I’ll make you feel good.” As much as Chan wanted to make you beg, he was desperate too, and he couldn’t help the slight guilt of what you’d been through. The thought almost made him frown, but he pushed it away and peeled off your shorts and underwear in one swoop.
You cried out when his fingers were finally sliding through your folds. Your eyes, half closed, flicked up to see him, gaze trained on your core in amazement. “You’re so wet, baby,” he purred, spreading the warm slick up to your clit to start circling it with two fingers. “Just for you- Mngh!”
He plunged two fingers into you with ease, wetness coating his fingers to let them slide in. You were panting and thrashing and moaning his name, and he just watched with the biggest hardon he’d ever had, how he made you feel good and how pretty you were, and how much he never wanted to pull his fingers out of your sopping wet heat.
“Do you want my fingers in your mouth?” he asked, and you squeezed your eyes shut and nodded vigorously. “Hey, hey,” the fingers that weren’t plunging in and out of you and curling into your pussy’s sweet spot, squeezed your chin. Your eyelashes fluttered open, and you stared at him with blown out eyes. “You gotta look at me while you do it.”
Then his fingers prodded at your lips, and you opened them with a whine, willing yourself to keep them open, to see how he smiled adoringly down at you. They were filling you just right, one hand stuck in your pussy and the in your mouth, teasing over your tongue. Your orgasm was approaching, knotting in your stomach, embarrassingly fast.
He groaned at the sight of you, looking up at him with huge, adoring eyes while sucking his fingers. “Fuck, fuck, good girl, such a good, appreciative girl, taking my fingers wherever she can.” You clenched around him at that, and he chuckled knowingly. “Yeah, you like being my good girl? Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.”
You released his fingers only to moan - almost scream - his name, as you came around his fingers, curling into you and working you through your orgasm. “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum on Channie’s fingers. Look so pretty when you cum.”
You were still dazed on your bed in the glimmering aftermath of your post-orgasm, when you heard Chan shuffling beside you, and then he was leaning over you once again, shirt and pants discarded and cock proud and stiff and leaking precum onto your stomach. You groaned at the sight, hand trailing over his exposed stomach, where abs dipped and rose, glistening softly. Then your thumb caressed and pressed against his slit and he hissed, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.
He nosed at your neck, pecking a little, before speaking, voice too strained and too pretty: “Can I fuck you, baby? Please, please, I need to feel you around me so bad.” He had shut his eyes tight, fighting the urge to grab hold of your back and press your tits into his chest.
“Please,” you came back equally as whiny, writhing in his hold, where his thumb was rubbing soft circles in your hip bone. “Please, wan’ your cock. Need it.” He smiled into your neck, grabbing your head and kissing your cheek. “So cute.”
You felt the head of his cock slide through your still impossibly wet folds, then pressing against your entrance. You were murmuring his name over and over and he was panting into your neck and licking a stripe of wet glistening saliva onto it, as he began to push in.
You were writhing so much he had to place his hands on your hips to still you, whispering soft reassurances until he was pushed all the way, clit pushed into his abdomen. You’re so full, you can’t stop the wanton moans at the feeling of his pretty, red cock, every bulge and vein pressed against your gummy walls. “You’re so fucking tight,” he spat, fearful that he’d spill his load into you immediately from the way you were clenching him. Then, slowly, he was rocking into you and the both of you were clambering onto one another. Your hands found his neck, his hair, his flexing biceps, and his your hips, waist, boob, and then clambering up to hold your face and look into your eyes.
“Look at me,” you almost didn’t catch the way he repeated those words from before, but you looked into his brown orbs, blonde hair curling over and tickling your forehead. “So fucking pretty, so cute, my little cumslut. Say you want my cum, baby, please, say it.”
“Wan’ your cum!” you cried, as he angled his cock inside you to press into that spongy spot. He was giving in to all his wants at your words, pulling you up by pressing his arms under your back, so your tits pressed against his chest, and he was nosing at your face again, trailing kisses everywhere he could reach. “So good for me, so pretty, all mine. Fuck, sweetheart.”
“All yours,” you babbled mindlessly, when his hand snaked between your bodies to rub circles into your clit. “Cum for me, cum for me, baby.”
His thrusts were growing sloppy, and you felt the knot tightening in you once more, pulled tight and ready to snap. “Cum, cum, come on, my pretty darling. Fuck, Y/n, I love you!”
At those words you came, pussy pulsating around his cock and clenching so tight, he was unsure if he could even pull out in time. He did though, pulling out just in time to see his seed spill all over your soft stomach.
Panting and out of breath, his arms gave out and he collapsed on top of you, body covering yours. “Ugh,” you groaned and looked up at you, laughing softly. “Chan, you’re heavy,” you complained. “I’m a weighted blanket,” he countered, but climbed off of you anyway, lying down next to you. You looked at him, with the side profile of a god, and his blonde hair tousled and chest rising and falling.
“You are pretty,” you said, and you could almost cry when he looked at you and blushed.
“You should’ve just told me,” he whispered, turning his head to gaze at you. You frowned and nodded. “But it doesn't matter now,” he reassured, one hand climbing from the sloping, bunched up duvet and running his hand through your hair. He tilted his gaze towards your cum covered stomach, some of it having smeared onto himself, and he pushed himself off the bed. "I'll get a towel."
Naked and divine, he disappeared into your small bathroom.
“Oh, God..” you groaned suddenly, face morphing into anguish.
“What?” Chan called from the bathroom.
“Soonyoung is going to be the most insufferable person on the planet when he finds out about this."
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♥️ Ranking Richonne
#12: Kiss Of Life (S7E05)
Ooh it’s called the Kiss of Life for a reason. 🤩 No one does passion like Richonne. ❤️🔥 This marvelous scene seriously has a hold on me and features my absolute favorite Richonne kiss (thus far 😏). The moment is just so good and mesmerizes me like no other. It's legitimately hypnotic. And that’s why, even tho Rick and Michonne barely speak in this scene, it absolutely makes my top 12. And you know the kiss is good when you have multiple favorite parts of it lol...
First, it’s important to note that it’s not just the kiss that makes me adore and appreciate this scene but how extremely meaningful this exchange is based on where Rick and Michonne are at during this part of the story.
This was one of the hardest and most depressing seasons for them as they wrestled with losing people they loved and then being expected to be Negan’s servants indefinitely.
And during this Negan era, it’s one of the rare times when Rick and Michonne are on notably different pages about how to approach the situation. And while Michonne told Rick she’d try to accept this way of "life," it’s clearly eating away at her to just sit and let Negan torment her family.
It’s eating away at Rick too, but with the love he has for tf, and especially for Michonne and his children, at this stage in the show he really feels like he’d rather suffer like this with them than fight and lose them.
This was such a tough time for them, and yet Rick and Michonne's love so heartily prevails with this special kiss. It's the definition of true love's kiss, if you ask me. 🤩
So first, I always feel for Rick at the top of 7.05 when he’s talking to Carl, who is understandably frustrated and behaving coldly to his dad. All Rick wants is for his family to be okay, and they’re so clearly not okay right now, which you know weighs on him.
And I’m not the only one who feels for him because Michonne is of course also in the room for this Grimes family moment, and she seems to be really empathizing with Rick as well.
So then Rick and Aaron walk out of the room, and Michonne follows and, again, shoutout Aaron for leaving to give Rick and Michonne a private moment lol. Cuz the moment was perfection. 😍 Like for real tens across the board...
Rick and Michonne stand in front of each other, and Rick invites her to join them if she changes her mind. I love that he always wants her with him.
I remember even watching live, I could tell that Michonne wanted to go with him too, cuz magnets don’t part. But she’s of the mindset that she has to try and go out on her own to fight this for the both of them if he’s not ready to fight back yet.
Michonne quietly and compassionately says, "good luck" and even tho Rick is clearly sad and knows this could be a moment of distancing, he still wants to close the gap and at least hug her goodbye, which I appreciate. 🥰
So he goes in for this hug, and whenever I think back to when I first watched this scene live, I just smile because I remember how excited I was that Rick was simply going to hug Michonne and maybe kiss her on the cheek or whatever it looked like he was about to do. But little did I know we were in for something...
Because as he goes in for this cute husband-off-to-work hug, Michonne stops him by gently placing her hand on his face. And I will forever love the choreography of this whole moment.
I love that it’s this moment of Michonne redirecting to let Rick know she wants to send him off right and make it crystal clear to him that even tho they’re going different ways right now, she is not upset with him, disappointed in him, or pulling away from him.
So she warmly takes his face, and then there's this subtle moment where Rick does that signature Rick Grimes head tilt in her hands as he tries to assess what this moment is about.
You can see a heartbreaking split second of Rick seemingly wondering if this is her literally and figuratively pushing him away. And what most pains me is knowing Rick thinks he deserves whatever disappointment or distance Michonne might potentially feel toward him. 😭
His past relationship saw his former wife push him away during a very vulnerable time after he had to kill his best friend for trying to kill him, so it's like he's briefly expecting something like that again.
But one thing that wonderful woman Michonne is always going to do is let Rick know, this is different. 🙌🏽
It's the very thing Rick told Carl the literal morning after he and Michonne first got together - where homeboy didn't even want to wait a few hours before reassuring his son that he and Michonne are gonna be long-term. (which I always am just fully amused by that whole 6.11 scene btw. from rick lowkey forgetting he's talking to his son by emphasizing, "it just happened," carl's reaction to seeing his dad in a tizzy, and judith's 'office' look in the camera. gold 😂. michonne's fam is the cutest, y'all)
And "this is different" has remained an accurate way to describe the elevated love Richonne has with each other.
Because see, now Rick isn't with a love in his life, he's with the love of his life. He's with the one (& only 👑). This is his unequivocal soulmate who will be by his side through any and everything. And I love that Michonne always manages to show Rick that he's met his match in a way he's never experienced before.
So thankfully Rick doesn’t have to ponder what this moment is about for long because Michonne quells any and all of those fears when she proceeds to kiss him with passion in an abundance. It’s utterly perfect. 😍😍😍
No words needed, and she still manages to say everything. I still love you. I still crave you. And I’m still with you was expressed loud and clear. 👏🏽
And Michonne really is such a commendable queen for doing this and making sure no wedge was created between her and her husband. This kiss really made any distance they had prior disappear, and it so beautifully let Rick know he is still cherished and appreciated by his wife.
He needed this moment more than he could probably even express. But of course, without even having to say it, Michonne knew this was needed because she always knows her man. 😊
This moment also feels like something she's been wanting to do since that fateful and scary night in the line-up where there were several times she could've lost him.
Like you know the fact that Rick is still with her and they're still alive, is something she's grateful for and doesn't take for granted. So she needed this moment too. And this kiss lets everyone know that while Negan may have nearly broken their spirits, he can never break their love.
The level of passion in this kiss is great for many reasons, but especially because you know after the lineup Rick and Michonne are now both so much more aware of how quickly things can go fatally wrong and how whenever you leave home and part ways you really could not make it back home to each other. It makes me think about how Glenn left ASZ just to quickly retrieve Daryl, but then he never returned to their home again. 😢
So as Rick prepares to go off on this run with Aaron, he and Michonne really kiss like it could be their last because that's an unfortunate possibility. (even though not too much of a possibility since they're the ones who live, amen. 😌)
And then my absolute favorite part of this kiss is when Rick so clearly gets fully immersed in this moment with Michonne and pulls her closer to him. I freaking LOVE that little gesture of him pulling her into him. 😍 It felt like it was Rick's turn to also let Michonne know - I still love you. I still crave you. I’m still with you.
Rick and Michonne just fit so perfectly together and I love the way they can always get lost in each other. Truly, in that moment for them, it felt like they were the only two in the world and all the other stuff didn’t matter. Their ability to be so present with each other is so special. 🥹
And she was already so close to him but the fact that he pulled her even closer...Magnets. And then whoever pointed out that Michonne kisses his top and bottom lip is a real one because I never noticed it before, but now it’s my other favorite part of this moment. 😋
They were really wild for this whole kiss, y'all. It feels great to be so spoiled. And we're Blessed with a capital B that this ship is literally everything we could dream of. 😌
This kiss is of course steamy and heavenly, but also it is just so powerful. For Rick and Michonne to be going through what they’re going through and feeling so differently about their current circumstances, it is so powerful that they close the gap rather than widen it. That they express authentic love for each other more than opposition.
This moment solidified that Richonne has what it takes to rise above anything and that even when they have entirely different opinions on a subject as big and serious as how to approach fighting for their lives and their people, they will still always be with each other. Wholly, Deeply, & Forever.
Again, I so appreciate that Richonne always chooses each other. And also this kiss was only our second time seeing them kiss like this since their canon ep, and man did they deliver. Like...
I’ve always felt that something so special about Richonne is that they are not like some TV couples who are more interesting in their pre-canon "Will They/Won't They" phase, and then when they finally do get together it doesn’t quite live up to all the steamy passion of their build-up.
With Rick and Michonne it’s a whole different story cuz moments like this kiss let us know that all that steamy passion and build-up was not only matched but topped when they were finally able to express the love they felt romantically.
Also, when they lost Carl the following season, it was this kiss of life in s7 that I’d think about because I believe this is an illustration of what Michonne and Rick ultimately land on even amidst the toughest adversity. They land on love, which has proven true time and time again.
And as always their moments after the kiss are also profoundly passionate as they look into each other's eyes and then do their signature thing of leaning their heads against each other, truly almost as if finding their center with each other.
I love that they stay in this moment awhile, again with no words necessary to communicate how much they love and are with each other.
They are the epitome of soulmates, and the way their love shined through in this quiet moment made that clear.
And then I love that Rick can’t help but express gratitude to Michonne for giving him his entire life with that kiss, so he fittingly says what he always finds a way to say to her, "thank you." The absolute cutest. 😊 You know Rick ain't been kissed like that ever before lol. Michonne has that man forever entranced, and I love to see it.
And the thing is, Rick has a special effect on Michonne too, cuz you can clearly see it in the way she looks at him as well.
In one kiss Michonne and Rick were able to breathe life into each other and quiet all the worry of them being on the rocks. They might still have big differences at this point, but nothing will ever be strong enough to divide them.
(that's why when I hear lines like say, "we are the strongest military on the planet" or "we're the last light of the world," or whatever, my only thought is - and yet you're still no match for Richonne. 💅🏽 Rick and Michonne Grimes prove they're the ones who live and the ones whose love is unstoppable every time. 👌🏽)
So it was a big deal for Richonne to have this moment in 7A. I appreciate that Michonne knew her man needed to be lifted up and reminded just who he is to her, and she did just that like only she can. And as the kiss went on, Rick let her know he felt just as strongly about her.
This important kiss shows that Rick and Michonne’s love is unbreakable, and I treasure this scene as such an undeniably powerful moment between them. I love their love, and I will adore this Kiss of Life for life. 😌
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