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another-lost-mc · 8 months ago

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Shower Thoughts: Their bathing habits, with and without you.

Featuring: The Demon Brothers x gn!Reader

NSFW // Content: Domestic fluff and non-explicit smut. Sharing a bath/shower together; sexual and non-sexual touching; mentions of teasing, semi-public sex (showering together in the RAD locker room), penetration (Reader receiving).

A/N: Shaking off the rust. I blame the new Nightmare cards by the way. I wanted to write this for the OCs and figured I should show some of the others some love too. Like always, my fav bias is showing. (Most of Asmo's section is based on things that occur in the bath scene of Desperation.)

LUCIFER

Showering is part of his morning routine - he wants to look and feel his best, his pride won't settle for anything less. (Plus, it helps wake him up for mornings when coffee alone won't do the trick.)

Baths are a rare luxury for him. Ideally, he'll have the house (and your company) all to himself so he can soak in the fragrant bubbles without worrying about what his brothers are getting up to.

(The fact that they're not home and loose in the Devildom is just as worrying, please try to distract him.)

He's not against the idea of shower sex, but it can be cramped and awkward. He would rather tease you with gentle, lingering touches that leave you both a little hot and desperate before leading you to bed where he can enjoy you properly. He's surprisingly unconcerned about getting his bedsheets wet when it means having you naked and willing underneath him as soon as possible.

MAMMON

Mammon usually showers at night. He'd rather have the extra time to sleep in the mornings before class. If he has to work or has a photoshoot, he's definitely showering before bed - he and his bedding are a mess from sticky, gel-caked hair and the eye makeup he didn't remove properly if he doesn't.

He doesn't usually take baths - too boring, too slow - but if you like taking baths...well.

Whether he's in the shower with you or the tub with you, he's open for anything and everything you might want to do. Even an innocent suggestion for a romantic shower or bath together turns dirty quickly when his eyes and hands start to roam across so much exposed, wet skin.

LEVIATHAN

For a self-proclaimed otaku, his showering habits aren't that bad.

Sure, maybe before you came along, he spent less time worrying about his grooming and personal hygiene and more time worrying about his idols' stream schedules and pre-sale ticket dates for the various movies or concerts he wanted to see.

However, you're here now and you're important to him, so whether he wants to admit it or not, that changes things. If he wants you to hang out in his room for hours at a time gaming or binge-watching anime, both him and his room need to be in guest-ready shape.

He showers more often when he's been cooped in his room on the sofa or in his fashionable-but-not-functional gaming chair that makes his back sweat. Even a quick cool-off rinse in the shower is enough to leave him looking and feeling refreshed which is perfect - he hopes he can convince you to cuddle with him in his tub after.

Maybe it's his natural affinity for water, but he enjoys showering or bathing equally. It's tricky when most tubs aren't big enough for him to spread out with his tail out too, but thankfully they're big enough for you to fit in the tub with him which is just as good - better, even!

He's shy with you in the shower or tub. He prefers to stand behind you so he's not tempted to stare at your chest (or lower). No one touches him as gently or with more care as you do. And the way you run your hands along the scales of his tail or his neck...he's going to try and hide his twitching erection from you and hope you don't say anything if you notice it. He can't help how good you make him feel, but he's not always confident enough to return the favour.

If you want him to touch you, you'll probably have to explicitly ask him to - and wouldn't you know it, your hands resting on his while you guide them to move over your body is one of many acts of intimacy he ends up craving from you.

SATAN

He showers in the morning. He's one of the few student council members that wears his uniform properly and I think he wants the rest of him to look and smell good too.

He enjoys a nice bath once in a while. Maybe not as much as Asmo, but they're a semi-regular part of his routine. He can load up the bath tray with a book, even a cup of coffee or snack if he's feeling peckish that night; time passes in a blue as he soaks away some of the stress that burdens him. If you join him for a bath, he'd love to read to you or simply hold you against his chest while music streams from his D.D.D. nearby.

Showers are useful if he's in a rush, or maybe he just wants to rinse off the day's grime (especially if he was at the club or in a fight). Or perhaps he's not in a rush after all, judging by the way he ushers you into the bathroom with him and tugs at your clothing so you can join him under the warm spray.

Whether he simply wants to melt under your fingers as you work suds into his hair and across his body, or if your naked body so close to his is too much temptation to ignore, know that you're probably the only one who gets to see him - all of him - exposed this way.

ASMODEUS

It's no secret that the Avatar of Lust adores his private bathroom, with its high ceiling and numerous cupboards full of fluffy towels and bottles full of the most expensive haircare and body wash and massage oils that Grimm can buy.

His luxurious tub - if you can call it that, considering it's bigger than any hot tub you've ever been in before - is full of fragrant, crystal-clear water that Asmo adds scented oils and skin-softening potions to. No matter how long you bathe together, the water remains clean and warm (there's a handy spell for that).

Asmo loves the intimacy of pampering you and having you do the same for him. It's almost magical, the way he massages you with slow, rhythmic strokes as he washes you with beauty products he personally selects. He considers your preferences above his own so that everything he brings into the bath is scented with your favourite fragrant notes. If you share his bed that night, he can smell you on his pillow and sheets long after you've parted ways.

Naturally, once he's spent his time spoiling you with his tender touches and whispered affection, he's desperate to have your hands on him next.

Bathing doesn't always have to lead to more than soft, teasing touches. He's not against the idea - it wouldn't be the first time his fingers teased between your legs while he nuzzled the back of your neck and nipped at your ear - but this sort of comfort is like divinity to him. It's a sort of worship he offers you that he's offered no one else before, and no matter how much the outside world demands your attention (or his), this is one rare opportunity where you can truly be alone together.

BEELZEBUB

Beel's shower routine is fairly simple. 1. Shower after Fangol practice or games. 2. Shower after eating at a buffet-style restaurant. 3. Shower before bed if nothing else applies.

Of course, Beel learns that there's a certain charm to showering with you too. He used to complain the communal shower he shares with his siblings is a bit too cramped for his liking, and with you it's even worse, but that's simply a convenient excuse to press himself against you while he hardens against your back, or he cages you against the wall while his arms block everything else from view.

(The open showers in the locker room at the Fangol pitch are fun in their own way when post-victory showers with Beel turn frisky from giddy excitement and too much adrenaline to burn.)

Showering is simply a part of his routine, but like most things he does, Beel thinks they're more enjoyable when he can entice you to join him.

BELPHEGOR

Belphie's not necessarily lazy - he just prefers to spend his time and energy doing things that are important to him. It's not his fault if that very short list can be summarized as sleeping and spending time with you.

Sleeping is most comfortable when he's clean from the day's sweat and smells - the last thing he wants to do is ruin the attic's cozy little nest by crawling into bed smelling like anyone else but him and you. That means if he's going to shower before bed, he's dragging you with him if you haven't had one already.

Belphie might not be lazy, but that doesn't mean he won't use every trick in the book to convince you to touch him and pamper him as much as possible. He whines that he's too sleepy to fiddle with all the buttons of his RAD blazer, and he smirks like a satisfied cat while you huff at his ridiculousness and help undress him anyway.

(He knows you indulge him because you like it too - did you think he wouldn't notice the way your eyes roam his bare chest or the way your fingers twitch excitedly when you reach for his belt?)

Shower or bath sex is a bit messy and not as relaxing as he would like - the tiles are hard and cool against your back, it's hard to prep you properly in the tub as water sloshes against the sides and spills over the floor. It's inconvenient and not the sexiest experience in his opinion.

However. The shower is an excellent place to tease you with an innocent pout on his lips and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Lips trail lazily along whatever bare, wet skin they can reach while greedy fingers prepare you for something bigger once you're finally in bed together, moving together lazily in the sheets and putting off cleaning the mess until morning.

(And even if Belphie gets a little carried away in the shower as he stretches you with his fingers or his mouth, or possibly his cock if he's that riled up, the clean-up has never been easier.)

Read more: Obey Me! Masterlist

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twice-inamillion · 7 months ago

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Yoo Sisters

Smut (Sister bonding, blow job, deep penetration, threesome, creampie)

Chapter 234

Words: 2900

(After Seungyeon walks in on Jeongyeon's ride on OC, she decides to tease her. With her tsundere person, it results in some real fun.)

The next day you wake up and see Jeongyeon on top of you with your cock in her hand and aligned it to her entrance. To your surprise, she seems different from usual, even happy, you might suggest.

Obviously, you wouldn’t say no to some morning sex and just let Jeongyeon do her thing. She slowly inserts the tip and waits a few seconds before dropping her whole weight onto your cock.

“Fuck, so good,” and she begins to ride you in a hard but steady manner. She places her head on your shoulder, letting you hear her heavy breathing.

You close your eyes and whisper in Jeongyeon’s ear all the things you did last night. The more you say, the tighter her walls clench on your cock, and the more sure she gets into a good rhythm.

Unbeknownst to you, someone was making their way back home after being away for a few days. She unlocks the door and can’t think of anything but take a nice shower and take a nap after a busy week. She notices that her house is off but can’t find what it is. She then looks down and sees a pair of shoes she’s never seen before and her younger sister’s shoes next to it.

Seungyeon walks around to see a blanket and some clothes on the couch. She has a vague idea of what occurred and smiles. Seungyeon slowly makes her way to her room and hears moaning coming out from the other side of the door. She takes out her phone and quietly turns the handle, and sees her sister in the nude on top of some.

“Click. Click”

Suddenly, Jeongyeon turns around and sees her sister standing at the entrance with her phone and flash on.

“Unnie!”

“Surprise!”

Jeongyeon rapidly tries to cover herself and gets off of you, “It’s not what it looks like Unnie!”

”I think it does. You’re leaking from your thighs.” Jeongyeon turns around and sees the mess she made on her sister’s bed. Embarrassed, she tries to cover herself with the pillows before Seungyeon teases her and says, “I’ll let the two of you finish, haha.”

The three of you eat silently at the kitchen table, avoiding any type of conversation on what just happened an hour ago. You try to break the silence by asking Jeongyeon to pass the salt, but instead she ignores you. Seungyeon looks up and smiles, “Here you go. Don't be mean to him, Jeongyeon. You need to take care of your man.”

Jeongyeon lifts her head up and shouts, “He's not my man!”

“Well, I wouldn't know what to call, maybe fuck buddies?”

Not wanting to hear her sister's teasing she finishes up her plate and heads to the sink, “I'm done eating. I'll clean everything up.”

“I'm done too.”

“Just drop it in the sink, I'll take care of everything.”

“Okay. Oh, by the way, Seungyeon, can I use your shower?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

“Thanks.”

Seungyeon sits on the couch, watching some television while Jeongyeon washes the dishes and cleans the kitchen. She is surprised that her sister finally lost her virginity. The only thing is that she isn't reacting the way she expected too, like being embarrassed or shy. She knows about her tsundere personality but assumed that she would show some actual emotions. She then hears the water from the shower turn on and gets an idea to tease her.

Seungyeon gets up and quietly makes her way to her room. She sees the bathroom door slightly open. “Should I do it? I haven't seen a cock in a while.” She only thinks about it briefly before making her mind, “Sisters are meant to share their toys, right?”

She quietly tosses her clothes into the hamper and sees your silhouette on the other side. Slowly, she slides the frosted glass door and notices your length. With a slight smirk, she bites her lip and places her foot inside.

Your eyes are closed as you wash your hair, and you feel a sudden breeze, but you make nothing of it. Out of nowhere, you feel a pair of hands stroking your cock and say, “Fuck, that feels nice. Acting all tough in front of your sister, huh? I knew you couldn't resist for another round, haha.”

There was no reply, but you didn't need any as those pairs of hands continued to stroke your cock. Now, hard, you feel the pair of lips kissing your tip.

Knowing what's about to happen you unconsciously search for her head and place your hand behind it. Slowly but surely, you move her head closer to your pelvis, making her take your cock in her mouth.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so warm. Take me in a bit more; I want to feel the back of your throat.”

You feel her mouth take more of your length as you scrape the inside of her palate. Surprised by how willing she is compared to before, you just enjoy it.

Jeongyeon is done with washing the dishes and turns around and sees the couch empty. She finds it weird since just a few minutes ago, her sister was watching television, and now she is nowhere to be found.

“Where is she?” as she looks at the other room and the patio. It isn't when she comes back and sees a faint amount of steam come out from the door is when she gets a bad feeling.

Jeongyeon walks to the room and sees the bathroom door slightly open, but steam is coming out. She walks closer and hears slurping sounds, which immediately triggers her.

Jeongyeon rushes and opens the door wide open just to see her older sister on her knees going down on you. “Unnie!”

Seungyeon hears her name and turns, giving a slight smirk as she releases your cock.

You hear a loud pop and feel the release of your cock. Not yet satisfied, you open your eyes and see Seungyeon down on her knees, turning her head to the side. You turn your head and see a full-blown, angry Jeongyeon standing by the door.

Your mind is all over the place as you try to understand the situation. You assumed it was Jeongyeon who was sucking you off instead of her sister and try to explain the situation, but then see Jeongyeon begin to undress.

“Unnie! Get away, I'm using him.”

“I couldn't help myself. I wanted to see what he had since you kept talking about him and how you liked him.”

Jeongyeon turns red, “Eww! I don't like him!”

With a smile on her face, she replies, “Then you wouldn't mind me getting a taste,” as she grabs hold of your cock again.

Jeongyeon watches as her sister rubs her cunt and takes your cock back into her mouth. She doesn't want to reveal her feelings, but watching her sister and you together make her do something unexpected.

You see Jeongyeon walk into the shower and get on her knees, pushing Seungyeon to the side. She grabs your cock and takes it aggressively into her mouth.

You groan from the rough and sloppy head you're getting from Jeongyeon. “Fuck, slow down. You're scraping my shaft against your teeth.”

She then looks up at you and slows down, relaxing her mouth. Her sister doesn't just stay there; she positions herself better to lick your balls.

As time passes, the two of them get in sync, allowing you to enjoy the sight of watching both sisters going down on you.

You decide to be a bit daring and grab Jeongyeon’s hand, signaling her to stand up. You turn her over and place both hands against the shower wall. To your surprise, she's very responsive and doesn't complain about your commands. From behind, you glide your hand against her pucker hole, then her cunt, getting it ready for what's to come.

Jeongyeon gets a bit anxious and closes her eyes as she feels your body against hers.

You quickly align your member against her cunt and press your tip inside, causing Jeongyeon to moan. Out of nowhere, Jeongyeon groans loudly as she feels her whole body getting stretched by your massive cock.

“Fuck! Slow down.”

You grab her hair and say, “Why? I want your sister to hear you moan,” and increase the pace of your thrusting.

Seungyeon watches as her sister gets railed in the shower and lowers her right hand to rub her clit. The image of watching the two of you having sex in front of her turns her on.

“How do you like having your sister watch as I fuck you?”

“No, unnie, turn around.”

Instead, she turns to see Seungyeon playing with herself, rubbing her clit rapidly.

“See, your sister likes what she sees.”

You continue to pound her for what feels like forever. “Fuck, I feel like cuming.”

“Don't, don't you dare.”

“Seungyeon, where do you think I should come? Outside or inside of Jeongyeon?”

Seungyeon bites her lips and teases her sister one last time, “If she doesn't want it, then maybe I'll have a taste.”

You decide to play along and pull out your cock from Jeongyeon. Seungyeon grabs your hand, leading you out of the shower and into her bedroom.

She lays on the bed and spreads her legs wide open, “You like what you see? I haven't had a taste in a while; I'd love to see what you can do,” as she pulls you in closer to her.

You stare at her leaking cunt as you grab your own cock, teasing her by aligning it to her entrance.

Suddenly, Jeongyeon yells, “Fine! You can come inside of me; just leave my sister out of it.” She makes her way towards the bed and lays down on it, exposing her cunt just like her sister.

“Damn, both Yoo Sisters. Both of you have nice-looking cunts.”

Seungyeon replies, “Thanks, I like your cock too.”

“Unnie! Don't say that!”

“Why? I'm just telling the truth; he's big, much bigger than the ones I've had.” She turns to Jeongyeon and says, “You wouldn't mind sharing him a bit, would you?”

“No!”

“Don't be mean, Jeongyeon. Remember that ?”

”No, unnie, he’s mi…”

Jeongyeon is not able to finish her sentence as Seungyeon grabs your waist and pulls you, penetrating herself with your cock. Seungyeon groans out loudly, feeling your length stretch out her cunt, “Oh fuck! You’re huge!”

You’re surprised by her sudden action and can’t believe you’re inside Jeongyeon’s sister, but you can’t complain. You want to tease Jegoneyon a bit more, and if it means getting down and dirty with Seungyeon, then you’re up for it.

“Come on, pretty boy. Show me what you got. I want to see what the fuss is about.”

Jeongyeon mumbles something, but nothing comes out her mouth as she sees you begin to thrust.

“Fuck, so deep. Don't be scared; you can go a bit rougher.”

You increase the intensity of your thrusting and insert your cock into her depths. It doesn't take long for her Seungyeon to adjust to your length. Her walls clench onto your cock as it moves inside of her, like an internal massage. You can tell that she has experience in these types of things, “Your pussy is tight.”

“Of course, I enjoy milking my fair share of cock” and winks at you.

Minutes pass, and you can't help but enjoy Seungyeon's pussy; you turn around and see a shocked Jeonggeon, frozen at the sight of you having sex with her sister.

“Fuck, I'm going to cum soon.”

Seungyeon lifts her head and says, “You're more than welcome to cum inside me.”

“You sure?”

“I'd be a waste to do it anywhere else.”

Seungyeon turns and grins at Jeongyeon, teasing her.

“Wait!”

You turn around and say, “What?” Jeongyeon grabs your arm and says, “Please, not my sister.” You can see the struggle in her face as she tries to say something but musters up the energy and says, “Come inside instead.”

“Stop, you're not serious.”

Jeongyeon gets on all fours and uses both hands to spread her cheeks. You see her leaking cunt, understanding how serious she actually is.

With her face towards the bed, Seungyeon looks up at you and pushes you away, signaling to take her sister instead.

You place your hand on her back and align your cock towards her entrance. In one go, you shove your whole length inside Jeongyeon, making her scream out loud.

“Ohh fuck!”

With your hands around her thighs, you pick up Jeongyeon and place her into a reverse stand-and-carry position.

“Wait, what are you doing? Put me down.”

“I think she to see your expression as you get fucked. Isn't that right, Seungyeon?”

“Yeah, I want to see Jeongyeon turn into a dirty mess.”

You lift Jeongyeon’s body and begin to thrust rapidly, churning her sloppy insides. Jeongyeon covers her face, trying to avoid her sister looking at her.

Seungyeon, on the other hand, masturbates to the scene of a large and thick cock, messing up her younger sister.

“Don't cover your face; let your sister get a good view. Show her how much of a slut you are for this cock.”

“No! Unnie, don't look!”

There's no response; only the sound of flesh beating against each other is heard from the room.

You walk towards the large mirror on the other side of the room and stand in front of it. “Look at the mirror, see yourself getting fucked.”

Jeongyeon turns her head and looks in the mirror; what she sees makes her body tighten. “See, you do like it. So much for that strong personality, only to turn a mess when you get some cock.”

You move your hand towards her cunt and rub her clit in between your fingers. Jeongyeon moans loudly, “Ahh, I'm about to cum!”

“What's that? I didn't catch what you said,” inserting your fingers in her already tight cunt and swollen clit.

“Ima, c-cum.”

“You know where it's going in, right?”

Jeongyeon bites her lip, not wanting the words to slip out of her mouth.

You tease her once more, rubbing her clit rapidly until the last second.

“Ahh, I'm c-cuming…” and release your fingers as well as pull out your cock, denying Jeongyeon of her orgasm.

She then whines, “N.no, I was about to cum.”

Suddenly your cock aligns with her entrance, and you drop her body, penetrating her in one go. “I'm the one that’s going to cum first,” as you burst inside of her in one go. Jeongyeon screams and tightens her body, making her spasm.

“Fuck! I can't hold it!

Seungyeon watches her younger sister pee herself as she gets pumped full of cum. Jeongyeon spasms uncontrollably while being held in your arms. You try to pull out your cock, but her cunt clenches onto your thick rob, not wanting to let go.

“Fuck, you got real tight. Your pussy is so addicted to my cock that it doesn't want to let go, haha.”

There's no response; you only see a passed-out Jeongyeon through the mirror.

A loud pop is heard as you pull out your cock, causing a large amount of cum to ooze out of her gaping hole.

“Haha, Jeongyeon is such a mess. You really did a number on her. She's always putting up a serious front, but in reality, she's like everyone else.”

Jeongyeon wakes up and turns to see Seungyeon riding on your cock. She can't see to remember what happened but feels a sense of hotness coming from her lower body. She grazes her hand and sees a large amount of cum running from her thighs.

“Fuck, I'm jealous of Jihyo. She has a really good husband.”

“I can say the same thing; Jeongyeon has a really good sister.”

“This sister wants you to cum on her face. How about it?”

“I'd love to.”

With Jeongyeon still lying down, she sees Seungyeon on her knees. She watches as you grab your cock and stroke it in front of her sister's face.

Seungyeon knows that Jeongyeon is awake and decides to tease her once more, “I know you want to feel his cum on your face. Let's show him how close we are as sisters.”

Seungyeon stands up and grabs Jeongyeon’s hand, leading her towards the carpet. They both get on their knees and watch as you stroke your cock in front of them.

You can’t help but grin at the sight of both sisters right next to each other, waiting for you to cum on their faces. “Fuck, I’m going to cum!”

Jeongyeon watches as her sister sticks out her tongue, looks directly into your eyes, and does the same.

”Take my cum” as you paint their faces completely white.

You see as they swallow the large amount cum pooled on their tongue and ask, “Open wide; I want to make sure you swallowed every ounce.”

”Ahhh,” sticking their tongues out and their faces dripping your thick load.

#twice smut #kpop smut #male reader #twice #jeongyeon smut #twice jeongyeon #yoo jeongyeon #jeongyeon #seungyeon #kpop reader #kpop male reader #kpop idol smut #kpop x reader #girl idol smut #reader x idol #idol x reader #TM smut

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itsquakey · 16 days ago

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After a long while of reuploading posts and not really being online a whole lot I finally can kinda come forward with a few things and new art-think of this as kind of a reboot after a pretty long "break".

First of all, thanks for 3,500 followers! Originally this new art was for 3,000 (nearing 3,500) followers, but while I was working on it I zoomed past 3,500. So thank you all for your support and art for 4,000 followers will happen if I reach such a goal in the future.

I wanted to compile all my follower celebration art together for this-and the newest art is based off my heavy usage of pencil brushes for my current college semester (So no, this style won't come back unless I want to use it as color/shading for my actual style which has evolved a tad but stayed the same overall).

And now that that's over an explanation for all the hectic stuff that has happened and why this blog did what it did below since I feel an explanation is owed, as well as what will occur in the future:

I believe around the very start of 2024, the whole AI fiasco happened within Tumblr, which was also in-between the realization that my childhood was not normal and instead something I don't wish upon anyone plus me finally getting a schizoaffecitve disorder diagnosis. So all these things kinda coming together was the nail in the coffin and I overreacted by scrubbing my tumblr of everything, originally not wanting to repost and instead move stuff to other more safer sites. But instead I chose to use AI poisoning materials to bring my art back at the unfortunate price of the art quality. If I was in a better headspace I would have left the art as it was and maybe just took an extended break. So I apologize for all the wait and craziness.

Now I'm aware there's still a lot of old art that has not been reposted, and they will not be or they are being saved for reposting next year for specific dates. If there is art that has not been reposted you would like to have reposted, please leave an ask in my askbox and I will respond to the ask with the art in question.

What will be in store for the future? I have about a year and a half of college left, meaning this account has a year and a half of being the main focus of me account-wise. There are many projects that need finished, including Birth of a Wish, Revenge of Pike Knight, and multiple other comics that are wips sitting in my procreate app. These comics will be worked on over the time left, as well as a second (for fun) AU in the process of being made and whatever else fanart I wish to make, Kirby or otherwise. These piece will NOT be posted on a real schedule, I will upload them when they are ready. This blog is and was for fun and so I will not force myself to crunch. The only part of it I will have a schedule for is commissions for obvious reasons.

While I will try and interact with the fandom, I do not have the time I used to. I however am still friendly to approach for conversation, advice, and to ask me to be involved in art collabs like the anniversary art collab I was in this year.

That being said, I will also dabble in original concepts in my other blog, including ocs that were seen before like Malifer (now renamed as Nobody) and a comic series in the process of slowly being produced.

That is all for now, see ya!

Itsquakey/Chickenhoops.

#kirby #my art #nextgenerationau #marx kirby #old #old art #king dedede #magolor #gooey kirby #bandana waddle dee #pike knight #castella(oc)#cog and sprocket #meta knight #clawrolinexleongar

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kumkaniudaku · 2 months ago

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At Last: Part Two

Summary: Mr. and Mrs. Richmond make their union official.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: None

Part One

Under two Spanish moss trees, the two that towered highest above the rest like gods watching over their creations, Patrice and Terrence were due to share vows and declarations of love with a small crowd of family looking on as witnesses in less than twelve hours.

Her mother referred to the quick turnaround between engagement and nuptials as a “small miracle” as she and her elder sister meticulously planned details that even Patrice had overlooked in the haze of the evening.

Truthfully, after all the fuzzy feelings and congratulatory bubbly had worn off, she was left with a gaping pit of confusion deep within her belly. Terry had promised one year to prepare for a life together. That amounted to 365 days to learn, grow, and get ready for eternity. A calendar year to decide if the eagerness of fresh love could bloom into something everlasting. Three hours ago, she didn’t need any more convincing. Now, having 365 days cut nearly in half with a wedding occurring on the other side of the sunrise had suddenly become suffocating.

They hadn’t taken a traditional road, one paved with tangible milestones on the journey to name changes and legal titles. There was no high school sweethearts storyline to follow. They hadn’t awkwardly fumbled over kisses after a first date or met each other’s parents at a Sunday evening dinner. Terry never officially asked to be her boyfriend and she never really treated him as a man to date on the way to some serendipitous revelation that he was, indeed, the one. In her mind, they’d always existed as lovers, time moving in a flat circle back to him as the only man at the altar when she envisioned jumping the broom with a new last name.

But, even with all roads leading back to Terrence James Richmond, the cotton sheets beneath her tired body provided no refuge. She was restless in the dead of night, head pounding with uncertainty and throat raw with questions. She kicked at the thick duvet for some relief from the stifling heat in the bedroom of the tiny guest cottage she and Imani were forced to share for the night.

Because, even if she and Terry didn’t adhere to tradition, the women of her family held strong.

Next to her, Imani grumbled into her pillow before flipping the bedside lamp on with a huff.

“Damn, Petey, what now? You must wanna look like Frankenstein at the altar tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t get comfortable.”

“What I gotta do? My arms ain’t big as his but I can be the big spoon. Turn over.”

Imani jokingly cuddled up to Patrice, pretending to be Terry as she spoke to her in a dramatically deep voice. “I love you, girl. You the only woman in the world, girl. Kiss me a hundred times so I don’t melt away, girl!”

Patrice couldn’t hold back her laughter at her cousin’s silly imitation of a man she’d only just met in person but managed to get his mannerisms down to a science. She was good like that. Always able to break the ice and calm Patrice with a joke, even through troublesome storms.

Turning in Imani’s arms, Patrice faced her cousin to feel less alone in the world. Imani adjusted her bonnet and looked back with a faint smile.

“Tell me what’s wrong. You nervous?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Anxious?”

“Not that one either.”

“Worried.”

Patrice nodded and chewed her bottom lip before answering. “That’s the one.”

“Spill. You already got me awake. Might as well make it interesting.”

“I wish I could but, I don’t know what exactly I’m worried about,” she started, shifting to her back to search for answers on the vaulted ceiling. She found nothing. “You think this is all moving too fast? It’s only been a few months. We said we’d wait a year at least.”

“A year? Three months? Who’s countin’. Those rules are made up.”

“Yeah, but what about the courting? The whirlwind romance? Being held close while you dance in an empty jazz club tasting champagne on his lips while Etta James plays in the background? What about all that?”

Imani watched her cousin jump from the bed, waltzing in circles with her head thrown back, treating the empty space between the bedframe and dresser like a palace ballroom. An amused smile tugged at her lips as she sat up to get a better view.

“Girl,” she exclaimed, laughing and shaking her head to Patrice’s dismay. “None of that shit is real! You watched the Brandy Cinderella one too many times during the pandemic.”

“Only four times. Five. Six if you count the time we watched it on FaceTime.”

“That’s why it’s rotting your brain now. How many times you been in love?”

“Once,” Patrice answered, her mind drifting to Terry and what he might be doing all alone in that room upstairs.

“It’s been three times for me. And guess what?” she questioned, not expecting an answer. “None of them had a formula. Love is illogical, girl. There are no steps or rules or movie scripts to guide you through this shit! It’s about the willingness to give yourself over to something incomprehensible in hopes that you found your person for as long as you can hold on to them.”

Imani’s rant floated around the room until it began to burrow itself deep into Patrice’s ears in hopes of reaching her brain. She stood there, taking every word in, eyes intently focused on her wise older cousin, knowing she was right yet having a hard time turning that insight into something she could fathom for herself.

She’d always had a plan that she followed to the letter. She thrived in logical next steps and absolutes. The black and white kept her organized. Routine was her center. But love with Terry? That was different. That was whimsical. That was girlish pining and a botched kiss when they pretended to be a couple for one night during senior prom. It was time away wondering what their bond had become amid infrequent communication and eventual radio silence. Their love was reuniting as adults and running so fast into dizzying passion that she hadn’t time to wrap her mind around what had happened over the last seven months. Their love was intense and scary, beautifully abstract with no rhyme or reason. Nonsensical even. But it worked.

Scooting to the edge of the bed and standing to her feet, Imani mimicked a chivalrous prince, pulling Patrice into a silly little waltz around the room. “Create your own fairytale, P. Everything doesn’t have to make sense.”

“You think he misses me?” Patrice asked, her voice so tiny and meek that it almost surprised Imani. “Think he’s thinking about me like I’m thinking about him right now?”

“Only one way to find out.”

A mischievous smile spread across Imani’s face as she dashed for her phone. Patrice chased after her, calling for her to stop what she was doing at such a late hour.

Ordinarily, Terry would be asleep. He was never one to stay up too far beyond the early hours of the night, often dragging Patrice away from a good book to force her to sleep beside him.

Peaceful slumber, however, had been elusive all night. The moon was too bright. The room? Too hot. He could complain about the bed being a hair too soft or the floorboards creaking too loud whenever someone would sneak down the hallway for a late snack, but all of those would be a deflection from the true issue - he missed Patrice.

Just as his longing was reaching a tipping point, his phone buzzed against the solid oak nightstand. He had half a mind to ignore the sound. It was likely his mother confirming details yet again or one of his twin sisters finally responding to the engagement video, he thought to himself as he lay on his back staring at the constant revolution of the ceiling fan.

Then another buzz came accompanied by several more to let him know this was a phone call and only people with emergencies call at that hour.

He answered without looking at the screen to verify the caller.

“Hello?” He answered, slightly annoyed by the interruption.

“Terry put some clothes on and come to the cottage. We got an emergency.”

“A what?”

“Boy, just come on! Skip the third step from the bottom and go out of the side door by the kitchen.”

Terry wished that sneaking around his fiancée’s family home was among the silliest things he’d done in the middle of the night for a woman.

He carefully slipped into a hoodie and sneakers before tiptoeing his way down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out of that side door like Imani instructed. The moonlight provided the only guidance down the cobbled pathway leading to a tiny shack at the edge of the property with a little light flipped on in the bedroom.

Imani watched through the peephole with Patrice hot on her heels, peering over her shoulder as if she could see too.

Moanie shrugged her away with a harsh whisper. “Girl, get off my ass. He’s coming!”

Patrice backed away with her hands up in surrender. The wait for his eventual appearance felt like forever. She fiddled with the hem of her nightgown, wondering if he would care that this was all a half-baked scheme to circumnavigate their forced separation.

Terry ambled up the dirt path with his normal scowl and fists pushed into his pockets to shield his hands from the wind chill. Imani timed his arrival perfectly, swinging the door open before he created a disturbance by knocking.

“Everything good?” He asked, one eyebrow hiked high as Imani pulled him into the cottage by his arm.

She stepped back and gestured toward Patrice who stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“I just wanna sleep,” she sighed. “Take her, go in that room, and do whatever y’all do until the morning. Then you gotta dip because I’m not getting in trouble for y’all. My mama will still hit me.”

Terry’s eyes drifted from Imani to Patrice, catching how she looked nervous under his gaze. He smiled and extended his hand for her to take.

“C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”

His voice, honied and soothing to her soul, gave Patrice her first rush of comfort in what felt like forever. She placed her palm in his and trailed behind him as he led the way.

Imani called behind them. “Please, don’t have sex on the bed. I gotta sleep here until Tuesday and I don’t really need that image in my head.”

“Can’t make any promises but, thank you. I’ll make sure you get the bouquet.”

“Hard pass. Give it to Moon’s desperate ass. I like to let my fairytales unfold organically.”

She winked at her cousin just before Terry could close the bedroom door to block them from the outside world.

Wrapped in the midnight hour, they’d finally found peace.

Patrice watched from the bed as Terry stepped out of his shoes and pulled off his hoodie to expose bare skin to the night air. He slowly crawled in beside her, brushing his fingers against her midsection to guide her against the mattress the way he liked. He pulled her close to his chest to rest his nose in the crook of her neck for a deep inhale of her unique scent. She sighed and pressed even closer, at ease once eyelashes painted butterfly kisses where his warm breath fanned against her skin.

“How’d we get like this,” he laughed once they were settled. “Can’t even fall asleep without each other.”

“I still think you put a spell on me in that bathroom. I loved sleeping alone before then.”

“Had to pull out all the stops for you, baby.”

“I’m just that fine, huh?”

He chuckled and closed his eyes, already feeling slumber's clutches coming for him in the darkness. His grip around her waist tightened. She trailed her fingers up and down his forearm with her focus on the soft rustle of the linen curtains against the window. Her mind quieted. The room fell silent save for steady, deep breathing and the crickets making music outside.

“You wanna know something?”

Terry blinked himself awake to answer. “What?”

“They call me Petey because I had a big crush on Tobey Maguire as Spider-Man one summer,” Patrice admitted in the darkness. “I figure if you’re gonna be my husband by this time tomorrow, you should know.”

No answer. Only the smack of his lips pulling away from the skin behind her ear in another kiss. He knew not to interrupt her fleeting moment of vulnerability with the silly joke on the tip of his tongue. So, he joined her confessional.

“I used to think Roxanne from A Goofy Movie was fine.”

“The animated dog?”

Terry scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know being attracted to a human spider was better.”

Their shared laughter reverberated off the walls, uncorking the bottled-up pressure to be present as perfect beings to the world. Terry felt Patrice’s ribcage expand and contract in his embrace as she took a deep breath to release pent-up nerves, silently thanking God that he was the one allowed to mold himself into the curves and contours of her body every night.

“I want to know more about you.” she requested, sounding like a child asking for a bedtime story. “Tell me something else.”

So he did. With no hesitation, he told her secrets that seemed so daunting to share until she was the one listening. Anxieties about the future fell from his lips freely, receiving no judgment on the other side. He told her about his fear of clowns and felt his first dose of validation when she agreed that expressionless mimes shouldn’t be around children. The backstory of the small scar on his upper lip was followed by a giggly recollection of the time she put her brother in the dryer to see how long he could spin without getting sick which made him laugh until his abdomen ached. Together they shared uncomfortable memories that introduced intense insecurities, weird theories about the existence of intergalactic forms, and wondered if LeBron James was secretly an android. An elementary game of 21 Questions created a crash course in the entire history of one another.

They lay there together in a pitch-black room drunk off the jagged, imperfect pieces of each other until their eyes burned with exhaustion and sleep was no longer an option.

The last thing Terry whispered into Patrice’s ear was a promise to never stop learning about her, to never stop being curious about her likes, dislikes, hopes, and dreams as long as they both lived. She could barely mumble out a worthwhile response but hoped that her gentle hum served as an oath to do the same.

By morning, he was gone. Out into the breeze by first light, leaving only his scent on Imani’s pillow and the fleeting memory of his fingers making a home between Patrice’s legs with whispered praise on his lips as evidence that his presence wasn’t an apparition in the witching hour. Patrice couldn’t resist burying her face into the sheets, squealing and kicking her feet beneath the duvet in elation.

She was getting married.

“Y’all are so cute,” Imani swooned, leaning against the bedroom doorframe as she watched her cousin hold a pillow close to her chest like an actress in a romantic drama. “We gotta get you ready, sis! It’s your wedding day!”

People whisked around all morning like busy worker bees, each one darting off to a new place around the estate to fulfill a purpose. Some balanced stacks of white chairs under their arms like magicians to turn a portion of the backyard into a wedding venue. Others hustled through the kitchen’s service door with mounds of ingredients for what could only described as a feast fit for royalty. Women giggled on their way out of the backdoor to meet Patrice and her small entourage to prepare her for a day she’d planned as a girl, but never saw coming together in a dizzying whirlwind such as this.

In the cottage, women laughed and sipped tea in porcelain cups to go with their fancy hors d'oeuvres on fancier china. The soothing purr from an antique sewing machine placed careful stitches in a beautifully plain satin gown gifted by Imani and Rosalyn to ensure that the garment was made to Patrice’s exact proportions. She was a princess for the day, the world bending to her every whim.

Terry wasn’t so lucky. The bedroom was still too hot and growing even hotter with each unwanted guest moving in and out with more questions than he thought he needed to answer. He wanted a moment to write out heartfelt vows with pen and paper but found himself so frustrated with the whole production that he slammed his writing utensil against the writing desk in the corner and cursed at the wall.

Another visitor tsk’d behind him. “Boy, you better not let Mama hear you talkin’ like that.”

”She’d pull that ear clean off the side of your head!”

Equally raspy voices made Terry sigh with relief before he stood to his feet. As two almost identical copies of their mother, Zorah and Zanah were Terry’s first loves. He remembered the day they entered into the world. So precious and honey brown with striking chocolate eyes that could make him bend to their will without a word. He watched them mature through the world like their hired security, never letting harm come to a single hair on their head. He wiped tears, kissed scrapes, and played with dolls like a third parent. When they went their separate ways to grow into adults with individual hopes and dreams, he cried in secret like he’d been the one to birth them.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d hugged his baby sisters but he knew he’d never needed their embrace quite like he needed it in that moment. They hugged him back, two sets of arms wrapping him up in a quiet group hug until he’d had his fill.

“How is this supposed to be the happiest day of your life and you’re in here cussin’ and breathing all heavy,” Zorah, the oldest of the pair, asked as she cleared her brother’s face of invisible debris.

She’d always acted as his surrogate mother despite being six years his junior. The everpresent pillar of stability, she left home as soon as she could to explore the other side of the country at UCLA in hopes of studying the ins and outs of music performance. Tall and athletic with long dark locs, her voice became her calling card, but her big brother knew her as a young lady that was once too afraid to sing in the children’s choir at church.

“You know how Terry is. He think he Obama. All serious for no reason sometimes.”

“That’s not true.”

“You’re right,” she conceded. “You never gon’ be fine as Obama.”

Zanah was the hell raiser. Loud and full of energy with an afro big enough to block the sun, she lived to tease her older brother. A zest for bold flavors that could bring even the worst enemies together for a good meal sent her in search of the best culinary school their parents could afford. If you could dream it, she could make it appear in the kitchen with little effort. Terry admired her for her gift, but couldn’t stand her poking and prodding at his expense.

He kissed his teeth and broke free from their short-lived period of civility. “Treece and the girls are out back. She’ll be happy to see y’all. Zo, get the rings from Daddy as soon as you can. You know how he gets.”

The twins rolled their eyes at each other while watching Terry pout on his way back to the writing desk for another crack at his speech. Zorah was the first to move with Zanah bringing up the rear.

She stood over his shoulder to take stock of what he’d managed to write in his time alone. Half sentences and scribbled words scratched through several times over littered the page as if a madman had gotten ahold of his journal. Something about how much he cherished her but with far too much Shakespearean language to be sincere made Zanah giggle behind him.

She sat on the edge of the desk, pretending to judge his work. “Are you writing your vows or the sequel to Romeo and Juliette?”

“Zanah, please. Pick with me after all of this is done. I can’t deal with the stress right now.”

An invisible weight seemed to push Terry into a defeated hunch, forcing his head into his hands as he angrily rubbed at his eyes. His stress tick was back and more ferocious than ever. Zorah flanked his other side and gave her twin a look of concern before looking back at him.

“Wanna pretend we’re Patrice to practice?”

He sighed. “No, not really.”

“Don’t be like that. We won’t tell and you gotta get a move on these vows. It’s a win-win.”

Terry sat back in his chair to mull over their proposition. A practice run couldn’t hurt. At worst, he’d rid himself of the useless mass of words clogging his brain.

“Fuck,” he conceded, pushing back from the desk with a loud scrape across the wooden floor. “Look, be nice. If I say something stupid or too mushy just let me finish, alright?”

“It wouldn’t be nothing we ain’t heard you writing poems about before,” Zanah laughed along with Zorah.

Terry showed her both of his middle fingers with a smirk as he walked to the center of the room. His days as an amateur poet were a well-kept secret that only his family was forced to witness. One day, when he and Patrice were old and grey, he’d reveal a shoebox full of terrible musings in her honor.

Taking a needed inhale through his nose and long exhale through his mouth, Terry prepared to ramble through his feelings.

“When I try to imagine my life without you, my mind goes blank. It’s kinda like when you get an error message on a computer or something. No images, no search results, nothing. Empty.” Terry began to pace, finding inspiration in the back-and-forth motion.

Zorah pressed for more. “Why?”

“I’m not supposed to imagine life without you, Patrice. I don’t want to experience another birthday or Christmas, Earth Day, Juneteenth, shit anything if you’re not there. I prayed for you.” Terry didn’t anticipate getting choked up until the sensation brought with it a lump in his throat. All of the instances he’s asked God for guidance in matters of the heart came rushing back to his remembrance with only one answer at every turn. “Trying to imagine an existence without you feels like I’m telling God that bringing you back to me wasn’t enough.”

His eyes flashed up to his sisters, finding them in the throws of emotion right along with him.

“Keeping going. Bring it home,” Zanah encouraged. “Give her the fireworks, loverboy!”

Terry laughed through misty vision. “I’m excited to spend the rest of our days together. Tonight, I’m promising you a lifetime of my protection, my devotion, and my desire to show up every single day to make our time together worth the wait. Thank you for choosing me, baby. Let me work on making sure you never regret that decision.”

A slow clap took over the room, first from two sets of hands that Terry expected, making his shoulder slump from relief.

“Shit, now I gotta remember all that.”

“Don’t worry, we recorded,” Zorah assured.

But there was still applause. He whipped his head around to investigate the extra spectators and found his parents beaming from the room’s threshold.

Diedra spoke up first as she made a beeline for her son. “Oh my God, oh my God! This is really happening. My baby is about to be somebody’s husband.” She claimed his face with her hands, distributing doting kisses on both of his cheeks. “Beautiful vows. Remind me of your father’s.”

“Not nearly as eloquent,” Marvin laughed, joining the conversation. “Matter of fact, I don’t think I got past the to have and to hold portion without stuttering. The pastor had to move us along because I was so tongue-tied.”

“Yeah, but the feeling is the same. Your heart’s in the right place.”

“Not right now,” Terry laughed before kissing her forehead. “My heart is in my ass, Mama. Stomach too.”

The Richmond family laughed harmonious laughs, providing the first bit of ease Terry had felt all morning.

Marvin reached out to grab his boy’s shoulder for a small squeeze. In all his wildest dreams, he couldn’t have imagined a better man than Terrence had become. All the rearing, the man-to-man talks, the tough love, and every stern redirection had become another foundational brick in not only a worthwhile man but a spectacular human.

He looked around the room at his girls and wife, trying to hide the overwhelming rush of emotion tightening his chest. “Can you ladies give us a moment?”

Zanah released a dramatic sigh.

“Oh, here we go. They about to cry a river in here. Come on, y’all. Patrice says they’re opening another bottle of champagne and you know I don’t like to miss hearing a cork pop.”

“You honestly need to talk to somebody about that.”

“We talk all the time, Zo!”

Time winding down turned advice into a hot commodity, transcending social groups as the sunset drew closer. Everyone had an opinion, an unsolicited tidbit on how to navigate the peaks and valleys of marriage. A hodgepodge of dos and don’ts thrown out like casual information whether Patrice wanted it or not.

Don’t go to bed angry. Have sex every night. Make sure there’s a separate account for personal emergencies. Keep the kids out of your bed. Some were helpful, others mostly nothing but projections and special circumstances veiled as some sage secret that Patrice and Terry should offer special thanks for receiving.

Nerves were turning into embers of annoyance. By late afternoon, they’d both requested for rooms to be emptied and questions to cease. They’d had enough. No more information. No more guidance. Anything left to learn was up to the test of time, not a bunch of people who meant well, but would ultimately return to their own lives with no say so in what went on between the newlyweds.

Reprieve came when the white chairs were in perfect rows on either side of a flower-lined aisle, ties were neatly draped underneath starched button-up collars, and dresses were pressed to perfection. The sun had begun to dive behind the clouds, leaving the sky full of pink and orange hues. A half-moon hung high in the sky as if it were invited to witness a show made especially for the cosmos. Guests took their seats without care given to which side belonged to the groom or bride. They were all family now. A beautiful mix of lineages and temperaments bonded for as long as Patrice and Terry saw fit.

At the altar, Sybil stood under two Spanish moss trees towering high above the rest, her gray hair pulled up into an ornate headwrap that matched her dress. She smiled up at both trees as if saying hello to living, breathing beings before asking stragglers to take their seats.

From the kitchen’s sliding door, Terry bounced on his toes, waiting on his cue to step into the early autumn chill. A tailored suit hugged him close, finally fulfilling its duty to carry him down a path lined with his love's favorite flowers to forever bond himself to the woman handpicked for his unwavering fidelity.

This was the moment. Fate had willed it so. He wouldn’t turn back for any reason. Destiny had come knocking and he welcomed her in with open arms.

Dreamy chords from a baby grand piano served as the soundtrack to his final walk as a single man. Measured steps carried him forward, his chest puffed with pride and his shoulders rolled back in the type of relaxed confidence only afforded to people who had no doubt that they were on the exact path they’d been ordained to traverse.

Candles and soft, white light from paper lanterns hanging nearby provided romantic theatrics to accompany his every step. Voices whispered, some calling his name, others leaving comments as he passed. In his periphery, he caught a glimpse of his family. DeeDee’s eyes welled with happy tears as Marvin rubbed her back for comfort. His sisters, both beside themselves with excitement, flashed Terry a look at the wedding bands as a final check-in on their whereabouts.

At the altar, Junior waited for his arrival as his best man. Terry had requested his presence during a surprisingly heartfelt conversation where Junior had all but lifted his brother-in-law off of his feet to show his appreciation.

“I love my sister, man.” He repeated over and over under the spell of brunch liquor. “I’m happy it’s you, T. I’m happy it’s you for my sister, man.”

Junior tapped his right hand over his chest and nodded at Terry, jumping right back into the masculine display of affection that had escaped him when no one else was around.

Patrice watched it all unfold as she carefully made her way into the kitchen at the tail end of a secret mission to hide her from her husband. Imani trailed her with a bouquet of blue hydrangeas in one hand and the train of her dress in the other. If not for her heels clacking against the black and white tile on the floor, Patrice was sure that her cousin could hear her heart thudding against her sternum.

“Alright, girl, this is where I leave you,” Imani spoke, a small smile forming as she took another look at Patrice. She tucked a stray curl back into place and presented her with the flowers. “You look beautiful, P. Stunning. My friend is all grown up. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you, Imani. For everything. Let’s not allow too much time to pass before we see each other again, okay?”

“Of course. I’ll be back for Christmas. But, don’t focus on me. You gotta get down the aisle, Mrs. Richmond.”

Patrice sighed and grinned at the mention of her new last name. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Believe it, baby! It’s time.”

A final hug connected the two before Imani was out of the door and comically announcing the bride’s arrival before taking her place as maid of honor.

She stood behind that glass door, beaming as all in the area stood in anticipation of her entrance.

You fix your makeup just so

Guess you don’t know that you’re beautiful

Try on every dress that you own

You were fine in my eyes a half hour ago

Terry had mentioned the song in passing once, commenting on how he heard it in a department store and found John Legend kind of corny. What he didn’t mention was that he was in the department store getting fitted for the very suit he wore as he watched Patrice walk toward him and how he took the song as a sign that he was doing exactly what God intended.

That cheesy song from a cheesier artist was the reason he was dabbing at the corners of his eyes with his knuckles to stop the incoming tears.

In a lovely satin dress with a high halter neck, Patrice was the center of attention. Imani had specifically chosen a white dress without any reverence for outdated tradition. If her girl was to be wed, she’d be in the appropriate color, no doubt. A split in the front was a personal gift to Terry, a peek at her oiled legs with each step immediately catching his attention.

Her bantu knots were unraveled, leaving behind shiny, bouncy curls that framed her face just right. Soft makeup enhanced ancestral facial features. Minimal jewelry kept the look tailored to her flare for the understated.

When she waved at Terry, he waved back with a smile so wide that it made his cheeks burn. In all of her glory, every perfect inch from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, was his to cherish.

And this evening, I won’t let the feeling die

I never wanna leave your side

Before the music could fade to make way for the ceremony, Terry had already found himself unable to hold back emotion. His fingertips were damp with tears as he assisted Patrice onto the low platform.

“Sorry,” he whispered while she pulled the handkerchief from his breast pocket and used it to clean his face. “Think they got all this in the photos?”

“I hope so. Might get a couple wallet-sized prints to carry in my purse.”

Patrice chucked as she tucked the pale blue fabric behind her bouquet’s stem and smoothed Terry’s collar. He captured her hand in his and kissed her knuckles.

Sybil cleared her throat. “We aren’t at that part yet, but I love the enthusiasm. Should we get to the good stuff?”

Patrice hoped the good stuff was captured in ultra HD on a camera somewhere. She couldn’t bring herself to care about the flowery words and intricate language. She tried her hardest to listen for her name to avoid embarrassing herself in front of everyone hoping to see something movie-like unfold in front of their eyes. But seeing the light etch beautiful reflections and shadows on Terry’s skin was all she could lend her focus to in the moment.

Luckily, she made it through her vows without stumbling, even managing a joke that garnered a communal chuckle.

“Honestly, we’re lucky this is happening now instead of at 18 like you said you wanted. I got to see Juicy J at homecoming one year and that wouldn’t have happened if I was chasing behind you in my 20s. You cute but not miss a Juicy J concert cute.”

She listened to Terry sniffle his way through heartfelt lines, occasionally wiping under his eyes to clear his vision. He gripped her hand tight and bathed her in a gaze so intense it sent a shiver down her spine.

What she was present for, however, was the grand finale.

“Do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?” Sybil asked Terry though she was already sure of his answer.

His top lip almost disappeared from being stretched so wide in his smile. “I do.”

Sure as he knew his first name, Terry affirmed his decision with two words and all of his teeth on display. Sybil looked to Patrice, finally seeing her niece as a woman and not the little girl that kept her on her toes every summer.

She took a deep breath and then laughed. “Lord, now I’m crying!” The family laughed, some using the moment to wipe away their own tears. “Okay, I’m back. Do you take this man to be your husband -”

“Yes! I do! I mean you can finish if you need to, but that’s my answer. One billion times, yes.”

There was no need. Under the twinkle of ancestors acting as stars and God showing his splendor in the marvelous brightness of the moon, man and woman became one. Mr. and Mrs. Richmond, free to jump hand in hand over a small, decorated broom to honor the folks that had come before them.

Well wishes came in abundance. Gifts big, small, and monetary spilled from a small table onto the rug beneath. Toasts became the preferred way to start a conversation. Buttons and ties had come undone from tight collars. High heels swapped for sensible shoes. Couples already squarely in the mature stages of partnership rushed to slow dance in the center of the communal area between tables. Pictures memorialized a wondrous occasion. They’d sign official paperwork another day. Tonight was for celebration.

While the party raged on, Patrice and Terry sat in the center of the table wrapped up in one another. His chin rested in the palm of her hand as he watched her lips move in time with the lyrics to a line dance song her parents led on the makeshift dancefloor. Her fingernails gently scratched at his jaw, an absentminded habit she’d picked up recently. He nudged her temple with his forehead like a cat begging for affection.

“Hmm,” she hummed, not looking in his direction. He repeated his actions to receive the attention he craved. She finally looked over and giggled. “What, baby?”

“Nothing. Just wanted you to look at me.”

Patrice pressed her nose to Terry’s before placing a soft kiss on his full bottom lip. “Let’s get away from here for a second. Follow me.”

Without question, Terry allowed Patrice to tug him along, past the throngs of dancing guests, away from music blasting out of jumbo speakers, down a shallow hill, and to a small lake shimmering in the night.

He held her steady when she stopped short to remove her heels, saying something about needing to feel the grass between her toes. She jogged the rest of the way to the lake with Terry holding her shoes and taking long strides to catch up.

She carefully lifted her dress before stepping into the water, only allowing it to cover the sides of her feet as she tilted her chin to the sky. Terry watched her with a placid grin and low eyelids.

“You having fun,” he asked as he placed her belongings on a tree stump and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Mhm. You?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear.”

He watched her for a few seconds more, admiring the way she seemed to salute every piece of nature in the vicinity.

“You know, we didn’t get a first dance.”

Patrice stopped creating ripples in the water with her toes and looked over at Terry. “Oh shit, we didn’t, huh? Wanna go back and do that? I don’t even have a song picked out. Slipped my mind, I guess.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” he answered, still smiling. “We can dance right here.”

He presented his hand for her grab, pulling her from the lake with care until she was up against his chest. They swayed to nothing for a second while Terry fiddled with his phone to find something worthy of their time. Patrice closed her eyes to listen to the breeze, more content with the wind as a soundtrack than she expected.

Soon, Etta James came rolling through his phone’s speakers.

Terry dropped one hand just above Patrice’s backside, the other wrapping around her back to lead them in a slow dance. A waltz of sorts in the blue moonlight.

Her hands snaked up to the top of his head and pulled him as close as he could be, his nose so tight against her neck she could feel the slight suction and release from every breath.

They stayed there, moving side to side under Etta James’s sweet song of found love until all distractions faded and left them in the fullness of each other.

Patrice angled her head upwards as Terry kissed along her collarbone. Then her ear. Her cheek, her nose, and, finally, her lips.

As he said I love you without words, Patrice tried to place the sweet taste of citrus and apple on his tongue. Was it dessert? Maybe her lip gloss or the fancy compote from their dinner plate?

No, none of those.

She closed her eyes tighter to taste more. There it was. The ghost of her fantasy. The secret marker of her one true love.

Champagne.

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown

#terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #aaron pierre

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cuteniarose · 28 days ago

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Each time I think I’ve finally become normal about This Fucking Family my brain comes up with shit like “Hey have you noticed how much Liba looks like young Sunat?” and now I want to throw up

#Liba inherited more of Jusamah’s face shape and complexion but other than that. look!! they’re partially identical!!!#(*practically. I ain’t rewriting all that)#I did not mean for their clothes to look so similar. and I have been meaning to redesign Liba’s #since I was drawing quickly when I came up with her and put 0 thought into it #but that just adds to the effect. I feel like #ohhh they make me sick. this entire family makes me sick #every time I think I’ve explored all there is to them and next thing you know. something like this occurs #I don’t think anything can loosen the grasp they have on me…#but anyway #fun fact #Sunat also happens to look a lot like Nazra #I would know bc when I was drawing her I decided to have some fun and made her eyes red #and genuinely. they look scarily similar. especially looking at my old Nazra sketches from 2021 #and since Nazra herself does have a more squarish face..#she and Liba probably look alike as well to a certain degree #which is always fun :D I often forget that they’re cousins since Nazra doesn’t exist in most verses #but it means so much to me that even when it wasn’t intentional they still look like family #Ultimate AU edition of Zaheer’s family when?? I need them all to interact with Naz #Nazra really won in the cousins department lmao. Liba and Abyan on one side. Mako and Bolin on the other #HC that Suiren and Midori have like.. second or third cousins in the desert somewhere #because why are they missing out on the cousin shenanigans??#there are probably a few swamp people apart from Meifeng related to them too #I should dig up my old Ming-Hua family tree and develop it a little #as if I need EVEN MORE OCS lmao #okay rant over I need a nap #Kat and Nia and their multiverse of madness

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oukabarsburgblr · 8 months ago

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drabble...

FEATURING: AITO SOUSUKE (OC), DAISUKE YUICHI (OC) x male reader

"Why the fuck did you come along if you knew you were gonna get scared?"

Sousuke hissed, jabbing his finger into Daisuke's chest who swatted his hand away. "I can go wherever I want? Your house is the furthest from all of us, why the hell would you stay back so late?" The pair were arguing, the moonlight shining through the windows of the dark hallways.

(m/n) and Haru only groaned, as they walked in front of the two. It was already night and they had came back to the academic buildings of the high school they attended. The (h/c) had misplaced his phone in his other bookbag which was in his class, he dragged Haru, his childhood best friend, to accompany him to retrieve it and Sousuke heard and tagged along but Daisuke wasn't going to leave (m/n) and Sousuke alone in a scenario where romantic moments can occur.

Although it would be challenging for the ravenette.

Haru swiped his long blonde bangs back, his bleached eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. "They're so loud. We're going to get caught by the security guards..." He complained and (m/n) whined as he shook his best friend's arm. "We're almost there. Don't leave me with these two idiots."

"How did you even forgot your phone out of all things?" "I don't play my phone all the time. Unlike you-" (m/n) heaved as his chest was smacked by Haru, catching Sousuke's attention.

"Hey! Don't touch him!" Sousuke scowled at Haru who rolled his eyes at him. Daisuke was fussing over the groaning (h/c). This was the norm for the group of third years, doing stupid shit but tonight was a highlight since they were alone during scary hours in an empty school.

Daisuke clinged to (m/n), scared out of his wits as he buried his face into the latter's shoulder, effectively dragging him in their step. "Why is your class so far away?" His hand was trembling lightly as the (h/c) rubbed his arm for comfort but the ravenette was too heavy for him.

"Sousuke, hold him." He pushed the ravenette into the redhead's hold, Daisuke gasping in betrayal as he scrunched his nose at Sousuke. "How could you??" He creened in disgust as he shoved himself away from Sousuke. (m/n) entered his class, pulling Haru as well leaving the pair to stand in the dark halls. The redhead glaring at Daisuke.

"You're a pussy, Daisuke." "Fuck you?? WHAT THE HELL-" He screeched as he instinctively jumped up and grabbed onto Sousuke, the redhead unintentionally holding him as he staggered in surprise. Daisuke had seen something flew past him and under the light it was a huge ass moth.

It wasn't really any better as he screamed while squirming in Sousuke's arms, the latter yelling at him to quiet down, opting to just drop him. Haru and (m/n) exited the class, the latter with his phone in his hand and gazed at the two unimpressed.

"Are you two dating or something..." Haru muttered as he rolled his eyes, leaving the group and (m/n) followed suit, his eyebrows scrunched and his lips frowning and pouting.

"Wait! It's not what it looks like!" Sousuke dropped the ravenette onto the floor and ran after (m/n), blabbering that he had nothing to do with the ravenette. Daisuke cussed and chased after them, not wanting to be left behind and prompted to hit Sousuke in the head resulting in more arguments as they exited the building.

They did get caught by the security guard. (m/n) was not impressed with Daisuke and Sousuke. Haru doesn't want to be friends with them anymore. Sousuke just kept blaming Daisuke and the latter kept talking about a moth??

[END SCENE]

Afterthoughts:

I feel better now. Friend group with daisuke (ravenette), Sousuke (redhead), Onaga Haru (blonde) and (m/n).

Their main story will be set in highschool. I got inspired seeing Kubz Scouts recent video haha

#oukabarsburg #aito sousuke #x male reader #male reader #daisuke yuichi #oc x male reader #oc x reader #male oc

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0cta9on · 7 months ago

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Stuck With You

length: +2k words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: My first commission!! Thank you to f_r_e_s_h for purchasing a commission, I appreciate it a lot :) If you're interested in buying a commission from me, head on over to my ko-fi page!!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

A light breeze brushes past you, relieving you of your exhaustion for a brief moment as you watch the sun set below the city of Paris from the balcony of your hotel room. The 14-hour flight from Korea was hell, but the view alone made it all worth it. It has always been part of your bucket list to visit Paris one day, it’s a shame that you won’t be able to actually experience any of it though. With the International Summit starting tomorrow, you need to be extra focused on your work as a diplomat representing your country.

A cafe sits across the street from your hotel, beckoning you with its warm and welcoming light. You watch as the people inside talk and laugh about things you can only assume, enjoying one another’s company on this chilly winter day. A nice cup of coffee sounds great right now, but you have to be ready for tomorrow. But… It’s not tomorrow yet. The night is still young, giving you a couple hours to check out the cafe and maybe even explore the city for a little bit. You did all the extra work you needed to do on the plane, so there’s no reason for you to stay in your hotel room. After the summit is over, you’ll be on a flight straight back to Korea, and when are you ever gonna have the time to come back to Paris again? Besides, you’ve been working too hard for far too long, you deserve to have a small break.

Without hesitation, you grab your coat and exit your room, beelining it straight towards the elevators as you mentally practice the little French that you learned before the trip. With a resounding ding, the elevator doors open and you walk inside, only a couple floors standing between you and the City of Light.

The elevator shifts to a stop on one of the floors, opening to reveal a girl around your age wearing a mask and a cap pulled low over her eyes. Even with the majority of her face covered, you could feel the aura of elegance and beauty surrounding her. Her outfit isn’t anything crazy on the surface - a hoodie layered with a leather jacket and a clean pair of jeans - yet something about the way she wears it is so attractive. You wouldn’t be surprised if you find out that she’s a model for Paris Fashion Week, which coincidentally occurs at the same time as the summit.

“Hello,” you greet as she steps into the elevator. She returns your greeting with a simple nod, a small gesture that makes your heart flutter. You didn’t necessarily believe in love at first sight, but you imagine this is how it would feel like.

The elevator descends in silence, save for its mechanical rumble. Due to the nature of your job, you meet a lot of important people from around the world, so your conversational skills have naturally improved over the years. However, you suddenly find yourself tongue-tied around this random girl, not even a simple “How are you?” can escape your lips. All you can do is sneak little glances at her, but now you just feel creepy. Oh well, it’s not like you’re here to meet women or anything of that sort. You just want to feel some freedom for a little bit.

Suddenly, you nearly fall to the ground as the elevator begins to jerk violently. A hauntingly loud creaking noise can be heard from outside as the elevator abruptly stops its descent. The girl trips forward into your chest, and you instinctively catch her, holding on until the elevator eventually stops swaying.

Both of you share a huge sigh of relief. Even if the elevator stopped working, at least you're not plummeting to your doom.

“T-thank you,” the girl says, her voice trembling slightly. You meet her eyes for the first time, suddenly greeted by the most beautiful shade of brown you have ever seen. They’re invigorating like the strongest shot of espresso, sweet like the creamiest hazelnut chocolate, and warming like the first cup of hot cocoa in the winter. You could spend hours, no, years just looking into her eyes, getting lost in every flicker of her irises and every flutter of her lashes.

“Um, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, s-sorry,” you stutter nervously, finally letting her go. You turn away from her, hoping she doesn’t notice the deep red in your cheeks.

She starts pushing buttons at random, but none of them seem to work, not even the one to call the firefighters. A wave of dread washes over the both of you at the realization that you have no idea how long it’ll take to get out of this metal coffin. Maybe an hour at best, maybe never at worst. With nothing else you can possibly do, you resign yourself to the ground, resting your back against the wall. This is what you get for trying to live a little - you get trapped in a box, forced to think about the consequences of your actions. All because you wanted a cup of coffee.

The girl sits across from you, tossing her hat and mask off in defeat, ruffling her silky black hair with her fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat - she is absolutely gorgeous. You swear you’ve seen her face before, maybe she’s a model for a high-fashion brand or the daughter of a rich CEO who ends up getting in the news for trivial matters. Either way, you can’t help but stare at her, slack-jawed in awe.

“Um, did you want an autograph or something?” She asks, her eyebrows raised in judgment.

You pick your jaw up off the ground, your cheeks burning red with embarrassment. “N-no, sorry, you just look really familiar. Have we met somewhere before?”

She chuckles lightly at your expression. “No, I don’t think we have. I’m Minji.” She reaches her hand out towards you in a friendly handshake, which you accept with a smile.

“I’m Eric. It’s nice to meet you, Minji.” The two of you share a laugh despite the unconventional circumstances. “Weird question, are you Korean?”

“Wah, that’s a good guess. How’d you know?” Minji tilts her head like a curious puppy, causing your heart rate to skyrocket. You can’t fathom how someone can be this cool, cute, and pretty all at the same time.

“Your name,” you explain. “I live in Korea for work, so I’ve gotten used to hearing Korean names.”

“Really? What do you do for work?”

“I work at the embassy in South Korea representing my country. I’m actually in Paris for the International Summit this week.”

“Oh wow, that’s so cool!” Minji’s eyes light up with wonder, her smile making you forget about the dire situation you’re in.

“Hehe, thanks! What about you, what do you do for work?”

“I, um…” She hesitates, lost in thought. “I’m here for Paris Fashion Week.”

“That makes sense, you’re very beautiful,” you suddenly blurt out. Your eyes grow wide with shock at your own words. “I-I mean, uh-”

“No, it’s okay. That’s very sweet.” A light pink hue graces her cheeks as she smirks at you. “So, is this your first time in Paris?”

You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that she didn’t take your compliment weirdly. “Yeah, it’s my first time. I was gonna go out and see the city for a bit since I’ll be swamped with work for the next couple of days, but now I’m… here.”

She nods in understanding. “That’s what I was doing too. It’s difficult to find a moment to myself because of my job. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a ton of fun, but sometimes I feel like a robot following orders, not really being able to live.”

The space between you falls silent in contemplation. You know that feeling all too well. You love that you’re able to help thousands of people every day by being a voice for the people who need it, but work can often get in the way of what you want to do. When was the last time you spent time with your family? Or sat down with a good book? Or went on a date? When was the last time you were able to breathe?

“If you weren’t stuck in here right now, what would you be doing?” You ask in hopes that it will lift the mood.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Probably walk around and take pictures of all the pretty lights. Maybe get some ice cream if there are any shops open.”

Your ears perk up. “Ice cream? In the winter?”

Minji puts her arms up in defense. “Before you go judging me, just try it for yourself first, alright?”

“No, I like it too!” You exclaim, surprised that you found someone that thinks like you. “I don’t like waiting until summer just to eat ice cream. It tastes better during winter anyways.”

“Oh my god!” Minji jumps up in excitement. “Finally, someone who gets it! All my friends called me weird for eating ice cream when it’s cold outside!”

Enthused by her energy, you stand up to meet her. “They just don’t understand that it doesn’t melt as quickly so you get to enjoy it for longer.”

“Right?!”

You suddenly find yourself inches away from her face, staring into her big, round eyes. The subtle heat of her breath brushes against your cheeks, warming your entire body. You would gladly spend forever stuck in this moment with her, watching the reflection of the universe in her eyes.

As the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. Minji pulls away, leaving you breathless. You quickly change the subject before the air between you gets too awkward to the point of no return.

“So… Paris Fashion Week. How’d you get involved with that?”

Much to your relief, Minji eases up, leaning against the wall as she turns to you. “I was invited by Chanel to come and watch their show, and I’ve always loved fashion so there was no way I was going to decline the invitation.”

“Oh, you’re watching the show? I assumed that you were modeling for them,” you say.

She chuckles to herself, blushing slightly. “Are you sure you didn’t break the elevator on purpose just so you could flirt with me?”

“N-no, I didn’t, I swear!” You stutter, flustered. Minji cackles like a hyena at your expression, causing you to keel over in laughter yourself from the insane sound coming out of her mouth. The sound of joyous laughter from two strangers fills the small elevator, unsure of how much time has passed or if you’re ever going to get out of there. You wonder what would’ve happened if the elevator worked normally. Would you be here talking like this? Or would the two of you go about your night without a single word shared between each other? Sure, seeing the streets of Paris would have been great, but would it have been as great as this?

Both of you find yourselves lying side by side, staring up at the bright fluorescent light, your stomachs aching from laughter. Despite it being your first meeting, you can’t help but feel like you’ve known her your whole life. Maybe it’s the same way survivors of a big tragedy bond through shared trauma or something like that.

“Do you really not know who I am?” Minji asks after a long silence. You rack your brain for any possible memories of ever seeing her, but only a faint silhouette appears in your mind.

“Sorry, I really don’t,” you answer. “Oh god, don’t tell me we’re old classmates or something. I would feel terrible if we used to be friends and I didn’t know.”

Her laugh tickles your ear like spring grass brushing against your legs. “No, it’s not like that. Honestly, it feels kinda nice that you don’t know anything about me. No expectations, no questions, no nothing. You just treat me like…. a regular human being,” she sighs.

“Now I’m kinda scared to ask who you are,” you quip, catching a smile from her. “Maybe I don’t have it as bad as you, but I can relate to you somewhat. There’s a lot of people depending on me to make the right decisions and if I miss up even a little bit, so many people get affected by it. If I get recognized in the streets, sometimes they’ll outright tell me what to do, talking about how their families would suffer because of me or outright threatening me to do what they want. It feels like I’m constantly walking on a tightrope being held by two sides that hate each other. No matter what I do, someone is always unhappy.”

Minji meets your eyes in mutual understanding. “That sounds really tough. I’m sorry, Eric.”

Such a simple gesture, yet one that you desperately needed. Talking to her feels like a massive weight is being lifted off of you. The amount of silent suffering you’ve had to endure over the years is finally being unloaded without judgment. With how many people’s lives you affect every day, you never truly realized just how lonely you feel. Thanks to Minji, you feel a little less alone.

“So, what is that you do?” You ask to lift up the mood. “I’ve been dying to know. I’m assuming you’re a celebrity of some kind?”

She smirks at you. “Have you ever heard of New Jeans?”

And then it clicks. You’ve seen her face plastered everywhere in Korea, billboards, ads, commercials, less than 24 hours ago you walked past her face in the airport right before you left. While you aren’t the biggest Kpop fan in the world, you would be lying if you said you didn’t have Hype Boy in your playlist for a solid month.

“Ah, so that’s why you looked so familiar. I’m glad you’re not a classmate I forgot about,” you joke.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we were friends in another lifetime. You’re very easy to talk to.” Minji meets your eyes, casting that warm smile that makes you feel at ease. You forget that you’re in this tiny box with no way out but patience. You forget that in less than 24 hours, you’ll be surrounded by the most important figures in the world, attending a conference that can impact billions of people across the globe. You forget about your feelings of loneliness, anxiety, and stress that you’ve been feeling recently. As you look into Minji’s eyes, all you can think about is her. Her kindness. Her radiance. Her laugh. Just her.

The elevator begins to shake around you, rumbling to life. Your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but all you feel is the gradual descent of the elevator before it lands on the first floor. You and Minji stand up, not a word exchanged between the two of you. Is this… it? Is it over? Are you just supposed to go your separate ways now?

The doors open to reveal the owner of the hotel on the other side, relief and guilt painted on his sweaty face. “I-I am terribly sorry about the elevator, are you two alright?” He asks.

As you reassure him of your safety, you notice Minji quickly slipping past, donning her mask and hat. You decline the owner’s offer of a free spa day and chase after her.

Minji is an idol. Intimidatingly gorgeous, held to an impossibly high standard that she somehow manages to exceed at every turn. Despite that, she’s also kind, humorous, and down to Earth, nothing like many of the celebrities you’ve seen on social media. Even in your brief meeting, she understood you. She wanted to understand you. You can visit Paris again sometime in the future. But Minji? You’ll never meet a person like her again.

You push through the doors, hit by the frigid winter air as a gentle dusting of snow falls upon Paris. Minji stands at a cross walk, her silhouette covered by unmistakable, and you quickly catch up to her. “H-hey, hi, um…” The words get caught in your throat as nervousness overwhelms you. Can you really do this? Would you be able to make this work with your busy schedules? Maybe, maybe not. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.

“Would you want to get a cof-”

“Yes,” Minji interrupts you, her voice lilting with enthusiasm. ��I would love to have coffee. With you.” The snowfall catches in her eyes, glimmering with hope and excitement.

All the nerves you felt moments ago completely wash away, replaced by disbelief and an indescribable happiness in your heart. Minji intertwines her fingers with yours, warming your body against the cold as the two of you cross the street towards the cafe and the rest of your lives.

#newjeans #kim minji #newjeans minji #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #minji x male oc #newjeans minji x male oc #minji x male reader #newjeans minji x male reader #fluff #minji fluff #newjeans minji fluff

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