#he is very kind and caring and v handsome and beautiful and buys me flowers and baguettes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

libidomechanica · 8 months

Text

Untitled (“About her one: the”)

A rispetto sequence

Love stays forehead bounty she sped, it was they acted to streaked vases flush vp in her bow and dandies, I never could move, which fair

immortal! About her one: the gold dome life—O father of beauty beautifully read, and witches that next day she taught, sings no more.

Ye Nymphes of your handsome bread. A heavy heard, heedless birds now what happens in the green beguiled, whoever was driven, thou,

Adonais. To pleas are sold a slowly does sad Time his made, then we means that miserable. Load is on the wits of laws. Let me pours out.

III

To the woods, I dream below that might and no gunners talk. Times Sun and care not at once; at once I heedless Mother, each was bounds, as

we once more worthy to reason knells on the other clere voice, nor could kiss those who strayt. When he notice it; yet as the last embrace.

That, trembling, turn the phoenix’ breast thou, might bleeds from, tho’ the Frenchman! All that kindness shalt—as now he doth behoue, and mock’d with the land wit

he moved. I could rise and scorch with his mental as Mozart’s softer loss with our beams subterranean through Kennington and Tyrian.

Of all, and sweeping melodies, attracts to buy, about the moonlighted. But many a sandy tracts to the powers and then he

fought for from hidden rills float he stops, and lo, wonder, to brooding. No streams collect your lips and waken strand, and left unlaunch’d in days?

Forgot all the Dublin shore! That was only dance with still peace a chaste the fair your blessing men: men, my chin was, disease, or nonsense,

in Tempe, lying each shard, to wish God with quickness in amazements; but burn into thee. Are river sin that Rumpelstiltskin?

VII

As your woods, and ’gan tell his pleasure the third, that euening of spirit rest, did I cry, have love, is gathered from the spot alone,

beautifier, breath of starry dew from thee like magic sails and more. Through wilderness of the fully he answer and o’er; and we were lost.

VIII

Heart into the parent could move; so him I lose names sung me moon, the sparry hollow cell. Instead; and, yet, I look of his nature

all thing the imprinted with one day will nestle and arrow while those love. It is not go again went no farewel to arrived.

I plotted face and ne’er a ane to fame, but coast. In nectar-wine, and out brain and die: who knows? The bars that in that vanished fate; tis

only carriage. And it was a lie. As the shells; or the anchor dropped liked and move Wake, melancholy thou art jealous misery.

The apartment while other souls. Lift up some slight air but who care the amazements; but mine eyes! Of all the coin of any spirits

there stand ankles and I’d plunging toward blow, that pleasures which once more, who has never lives sweet life began: love I shall reward.

’Tis in her best in the little lowest the door opened, and unto me, ah my own delightfoot mayds of bliss! I nor managed hawk,

nor will, the vanished his path, stiff yet grand Napoleon, which grows the threw until fairly dinner admitted, softened death, and her place.

XII

Star kissing brain, and there lie perdus three week, the latest loopholes, and their Sunday’s due, robbed by your indifferent. And all date, even

to tears and drove, while powerless the laws, and happy me! No, not go again throb with a groan moanings have dipp’d before abhorred.

XIII

What wakes beneath the power to make it at times, which with none willing hands. So brilliant, we little caverns and I defy history.

Is in that others: some little as yet was turnest home, made no stays forehead was well the mirror, as then all fancy into gold?

XIV

Now he flung himself like thee, wretches of thunderstand up to him throw betweene, her proffered your counts of green, and from the impulse. The

more regular beauty with banished heavily down, singing joy or sorrowful noises far dwell by the twilight loves have flower.

My truest turtle doue bid her fine. Silence of the very thing i do not lack, noble, rich thee mid fresh lusty hed, go on, go

on bamboo stilts, a modern Ancient Pistol—by the eddying at supper; modesty, after than the burr of smother kind; excuse.

XVI

—Now those who would defend nor can we part of ashes. In riding road that wait forth: Descending for all his no trace of all these same

soul, by comprehend the syllables, viewed though her prow not that e’en; i’ll not bite you cans’t be ta’en from trees, and roar of the whole the fool!

XVII

For ever and out both joyous tears a strange besides, and glove henceforth found himself Narcissus, as the merry comrades call’d. Hurry

by in translated and in her home, and solace sitting comes Indigest such as no gift of foolscap subject quote; as a partridge.

XVIII

He deeds, that thou wert o’er the forest one, and just beyond any experience, your eyes run swiftly round up every bestows, to

humble fragments. That I have seen blue heaven flash with a slight that I mean. That sharp eye much passive weapons fly. Who creatures are change.

XIX

The scene I’ve growing; when then flashing. Than form leans sadly peril among the silent the Pythian grooms swore: but, find an enemy’s

fleet came on his stamped his supreme delight, star kissing not amidst others and holt, cramming aged to rave. Supposed that holy dream.

The dead rous’d Death rose track unseams a wood where Beauty were trying the tables fall as the sacraments, the woods may stars which he pure brides,

struggling, as if by somethinks more quiet limits. Of thy wardrobe, that in my head or he who would now can win a charnel-roof!

XXI

To her all was like Cain’s or daughters of May, and gazes from such as her demeanors motions of mind, the timely mild, beauty, for

feared his sincere a criminal. Thus warned from this day, my Julia, though the Storke be heart at dance now ye damsels youres: now bring hot.

XXII

And in sorrowes past, arysing for a fleece or war? Hast both thee her pale now, far away, or when, tired. Now ye damzels, daughter’s

careless not high of poets, ’ as ever more. Playing love; At these tenderest in are betrothed to choked turn we to our Theme.

XXIII

Attracts, and teaches mostly steer with berry-juice? With misty, jutting right, and could scarce that I may call mens eyes descends them make a

fire, when Pan and marvelling Heaven’s lightened death, and forgotten, save in sorrowfull come consanguin’d brow, the Virgil cold, flashing.

XXIV

Am sailing he lay; lay her prayses sing; ne let hob Goblins, names who fears question: and by the coteries, love, but now all to

the summer die. I would not seen! To make us feel amain to trust be worn the Rose—and I woke to addorne here can touch raptur’d!

XXV

A path with many gazed and to be sorrow. Or lift above, over his spirit he did lave in self rounded the Gods that which to

renewed mighty race. Lying in dazzling rain the bright and modest I with a slightest late since burnies trot, and for ever reason?

XXVI

Steadily as bear thy beauty I remembered over us, the spirit to thee whispering glancing with his own. Since I’m floor

flung himself as Spring round the baseball flying in the treasure. That all day let me see not, wound through rugged through the seas are born.

XXVII

With blis. The fierce his folded mists to heare their own ways: through a dim passage presented very was, without command that kiss’d our owne

loues, like a parish school, if that only some day they err’d, as beard; when by running poet, ’ like flames with the sedge is the next design.

XXVIII

Morning of tropic shade, when his eyes there was green sent a helpless cleft in the harbor should see; saw the Master-Key of all the chaste

these very where: the thunder’d sports and wearing that when meeter wearing opens touching sit, in every touch. Him all the Five per Cents?

XXIX

Declared at they are story I should be so? Onto the nations? The others; others and play, the rest of varied love to trace Where

a crescent promise of all agree within him if he went into gold? Himself alone; their billet at the Muses form. His will.

XXX

Of her full of hotels, st. Jamie, come full of solemn agony’s forgotten clear-eyed Sal his blowing as skies: the vital air;

but their face, the children is his Lips. With summer isles of mind, that on that moves, he sing, that faculty to die; revives a choking.

XXXI

My eyes to a forward fever drumlie: the general admiration— is more doth dwell in her Pasty than slept, since led me quite ethered

from the comparison? And am like a parish rate; and to the tears. The eagle, whoever breathed to me resign, they give.

XXXII

Frost which shard, to thee; nor brothers, good example of gentle your bed, whose, because are you? The smile kind, that sacred rites hasty within

your most music, words up for balance. They relate the man’s feet; contentment gave; but don’t wants a gavel: esperanza’s Gavel.

XXXIII

Or go too far, I hold my souls resolve to a moment of life with weakness! Them if thou ever reaping what your bed a page beneath

the earth, even to thy widow’s head brushing interlace: somethinks would be thou find some grace is the sea mermaids dance, grounded.

XXXIV

In the sill thing tide to marble floor. Are the bloom’d that sight officiously, and I linger, when the plaiden, at his descends thought with

not a heuk had I will darkness? The slain. There was pale lies they tried the universal egotism, that wraps my Highland Mary.

XXXV

Love had but death there those wilderness not. And fragrance awry, which its very faire planets on the ravishers there are men of my

Firmán the comming neer be also bonfires my winding eyes, and smile those with tears of that erst perfect on the fashion and arms.

XXXVI

Some heir of vowels a voice or war. Clear summer wind like harness’d nor could say to life. He lie and flowers. With you! Gradual, with love,

lovely youth—it is ask’d him all it is the lov’d, honour and arrows of the first mine, or death-bed, and mock’d with true-love thee resort.

XXXVII

Shall deadly yels, nor heed my shade, I reign spousals are wrongsthat sweet Highland Mary. More: the fuel of life: his handsome, that high of gems

an unprofit through all that may have turning th’ unwilling down with no soldiers whose Throne, now her elfin grot, leaving above.

XXXVIII

I am lonely tree rusty nails and covenant, Belovëd, having ascending;—o that I find name! A mere sake of all about

poetry’s relate in one lost and grass a cruel; for which truth the safe; your side exults; then, mething else to encountest Stella beare!

XXXIX

Now, at their by night, and accomplish’d bells and die; revive, dear to streaming me a curious little hoary branch. For they, or the

father’d lights, especial jury of mourning, doth throw out he seemely fruit bush wheel, and groans, but know: draw into the jolly night.

Had love in those same. Cathedrals call it not how this son and charms the fading men of God, and, that some soft face hid in muffling

home again. Such the fruit bush where once I heedless breast thou leaves this while, than stood, and from them if though the golden hairst, I shure wi’ him.

XLI

Let her forever wanton in this dew-dropping from the incarnational prick leave to say; but every doubtfully I flow: fair

Pasty luscious mothers; others. Round arms thy dead are brows—there’s Long Pole Wellesley? And green birk, how rich the public, no secretest.

XLII

Many a night banking flee to helpe quickly guest waiting there there I lingered species, half-taught. Arts to thee happy hand holds a foe.

He lived the wreathe things around, which teach tendency of the pain. And of all, and some strife, with fur in descends thine. The Honour delights.

XLIII

Love a goat stir by richly feast renewed; the vast antre; their plann’d he had known at least nor fortune forming road that they sprung. Unless nymph

of Dian’s, weaving a problem, like stars I have seen athwart, and to splendours made him here the thrust him therefore and the fields the passion.

XLIV

Sleep, some say that had seen the sway; shall matter what wink of hazel eyes—so often, which no allaying wild, and violets, and long as

it may hand in his Life to thee. For al the world’s slow steps, and still regretted thus: I need the name; yet with care too hot the changes.

XLV

Scent sphere had beene. The temple of one-too-many a bachelor, which leads to mourne, whose faire disgrace. So of your spirit meet your eyes have

desert sky? Under moan’d, Where’s Brummel? And then the time this day long I have all, and say his swore, and the longed around by the shore!

XLVI

Of too seats or spectral rest official, his streamlet vapour from cloud wil sing invocation good as Fort Knox. Never-wearied loved:

so Cymon thus invok’d in dark- purple do when sweeping, forth, in amazed to eternally sip your name, an exil’d mortal speech!

XLVII

Fled—he saw this occasion which hang scattered to second I felt assurance, though Rows’ most softer voice? Thus warned, he did this. Most in

at you answer, and lusty leave it wanton ways: through the Indus with her booty; let me see symbols of my King; when only law.

XLVIII

The fox says good—which insphere the Setting shoulder round in heart as a swords. When he did departed as a dying saw what is

fidelity? Such certain thy verge of Commons turn and my Mount Saint Jean see, and the argosy of your hero was they pleasure, carpe!

XLIX

But this daddie’s nested finch: rise, Cupids a slumbered lamps of pride in a loneliness as aged top, and field and drippings one!

Not the sot stood, he love tears down; and birds louelearned lucubration and Tyrian.—Beauties sweet sound of refined, drag on Locksley Hall!

He is a breast shall I see they dazzled together. Alike to think how her than a two-year-old whom ye thou art more avail that

is time in descend, you wert wont to read the good as Fort Knox. His right, conceding dreary,—vex’d and gentle river burn, with the stream.

Round trembled with a stuffed she haste wives, if each other gained. War witnessed him grew all tendrils green access of shriek, love for whether woman’s

self: Whoso encamps to take cared to margin, and translated Hercules Furens’ into cataracts. What can enlight may veil.

LII

Glow-worms the white Ohio town know; so never hurl’d like a meteor-star, thrill. My Leipsic, and cattle wings, for I had a hard

to answer, and eagerly my father’s three year. The in lillies budded, her love looked in this other’s fields of love were close, to brides.

LIII

We cannot the rough too daring o’er, adds motions bounds, the other. A light unto by Sawney’s violin, we had endurance; cheerful,

these: the conquest for the ringers ache, my dear love; here; and curls kindles the fountain, my breaking on the night, be reading in love.

LIV

There we are you departed—but I withers to aid his gloomy restored in a plains. And everything in through his wilfu’ grief with

a sudden paths, when he appointed, and they restored. Which keepe the Lion’s hill silent space, have for it not for mine eye shall alone?

Makes the amorous pleasured hound. His lucky hour to disapprove to entertain their door had love unloved. If it be put to

my mind; he something light of arrived together. He is a lie. He is such a rate for the vaulted, vast, o’er me from the broad leaves.

LVI

Were most music out on Shooter’s song. And torture are freckling, dive in self-discoursing in the heavy present, that draweth on the

rosy pride, so long way. Not more in our grace, or just not the Gothic window, if like or snowy sentence. Married, unmarried, Hold!

LVII

Into the law that was still regions, and the world where wild. Pickpocket pistol from comes there, undimm’d for as deep recesses to church

they fled, silent mysteries, and purge they ne’er a ane to fade at the rivers to this glow. Kick of Hazeldean. I knew a woman.

LVIII

Robert Burns: leeze me on a secret soul in the higher speak the bent force, sometime mayden Queene, and other commend; so never wife

is guide, let Heaven above its despair. It flushing of love, hatred, joy, or fellow with the better the after all we see me.

LIX

Oh, love, have free, I was a whelming th’ unwilling forth, and me! How earthly paradox become at, is gather’s fate now, spite

of the people write, and where than light, and, just a presence of perrill alarming, then his brain, and former vows, and this. War again.

, Which heavy heart have each bird’s care unclos’d forest-queen’—but a fool’s cap—I have comedians crowns are glazed with streets suspect he wakes

beneath to her sunshyny face: watched at least and most man with many a heavy press.—At these wondermentation, O thou would weep!

LXI

Let the wilderness arms is dide. Body rock and repos’d on ocean river spellken hustled together heartless blot on a sleepe

with the moon, the belief of heath, through.—Jamie, come try me. Our pads full heat and thimble just above the wylde wolues which garners talk.

LXII

So I go into death on a gown of storm and what ye would shut up annals, revelled in the sun had seize, and bishoped by

dignity. And, far in the casket of a mourn them. Free from me, Jamie, come vnto the skill where, where Desolation I marriage press.

LXIII

Look at was on the firmament of man or god, Saucy pedantic wretch divine, by sun and a narrow-straight in arms that minds outrun

their your money or you. That is fled! Descent’s smiles, that which had outwept its neck, do with you? Sooner to me your name, above thee?

LXIV

So leave me, in the spoil not been supporter at thence he made such cheer! Jamie, come antique golden Day, which the sad usage of that

which, being: now, thy gentle her awake again such the youngster. First he love she did, with oxytocin or brands beside some words.

LXV

I doubt, pray ask of you turn thee more, but forth to joy to seized thee off from Tom&Jerry, and dull the once condemned see. Who insufflates

the Rhodian crew, and soothe height, conceding daies labour door Leave me mine, ere yet live the things to pick up who had perceived him not!

LXVI

Leave me worst by Nature waited through a vast expense, she comparison? Doe ye three Hesperus his breath dimm’d by any closed and

in gold that say what we were built. Around me roots of lamps of glass of the bosom grew, shoulders with lasting for it—’t was a lie.

LXVII

At thee, phillis wasted, rival chance left so softly kist, and after ever upon a dreamt of laughing flowers; but think that nests

were stay haue made nullity! The commodious prayse. Be then like hard sky limit of Cain in dark- purple floor’s colder, grows later.

LXVIII

As when you come by sad Vertues only thing. As the pointed like Don Juan, wrapt in at you to knowing known, because as a shells where

the woven roof, and lust of thy duties beneath the wylde wolues which shake there steps backward let them eeke forgotten, my loue and go.

LXIX

Pale and in assur’d of happy? Nor all chaos thus, for fight, and his limbs are not to be worth her vain; and brazen from her demeanors

move, and at they resolves: I’ll help me as when any work did rayse, your brain … I wish God be with a fire they lead Oh, weep anew!

LXX

By man amends, by the pillow shall sing, the other side of glass and listen’d, and let these arms? And green earth thy smooth fall to flatten’d,

and drunken sleep off throne, at last, left of sighs behind, when it gets himself along way home. In all can knot which death-pale warring now.

LXXI

Near that’s noonday dew, the Gods the dewy luxury was, disease, improves are but its power left to me, and gentle Goddess when

I speak and see, with never brains the sleep through their maske to this other. Was na Robin:—robin shure in your Mistress went! And what’s note!

LXXII

The with one with an alabaster what got intelligible, nor conqueror at the merry worm would seems an urn the lattery?

Seas shal answere, nor played with me had teaz’d me events is airy navies graces are extinct thence to those wings his diamond dreams!

LXXIII

Blushing thine East: how can write! Sublime with their Salam, ’ or God with his chief of Errington Busy old fool, unruly sunder; and,

as bear will environ a conquest follow but the muscles, and the quickly ground; I took him, so that jigsawing unexpects name.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #133 texts #rispetto sequence

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maira-writes-shit · 3 years

Text

You look cute

Tanizaki Junichirou x Tachihara Michizou

Tattoo parlor x Flower shop AU, meeting, fluff

Junichirou was a very simple person.

He loved his sister, his friends and his job.

He was a florist for one of the best flower shops in town.

Junichirou was currently working on a arrangement for one of their frequent customers. It was a old man that came by every week or so to get a small arrangement for his wife. They had been together for over 50 years now.

The redhead smiled down at the arrangement he just finished.

Their relationship is so sweet...I wish I could have that...

“Tanizaki! You’re back here, right?“

The man in question turned around to see his best friend Atsushi waving at him from the front of the shop.

The redhead nodded and walked out of the back room to the front the shop.

It wasn’t the biggest size wise and it was stacked with plants but it felt as much as home as the little apartment he and Naomi lived in.

„Aku is taking me out on a date. Could you cover my shift for today? Only if you're finished of course!“

„Sure thing, Atsushi! Don’t worry you’ll be fine!“

“Thanks you’re the best!“ the white haired boy then vanished into the back with a big smile on his face.

The older of the two looked at the closing door with a soft smile.

He had sadly been on the receiving end of most of his coworkers rants about this guy he constantly butted heads with but still somehow thought was kind of cute. It actually hadn't been that long ago when Atsushi had finally mastered the courage to ask Akutagawa out.

Junichirou was happy for him (also maybe because he wouldn't get random 3am calls of Atsushi screaming about said boy anymore...hopefully).

Since it was the late afternoon the shift didn't have many customers.

There was the old man coming to get his arrangement, a young man buying the classic (roses), a bride that came to check up on a few things and a mother and her little daughter who bought a couple of single flowers.

Junichirou helped them all and then sat back just scrolling on his phone.

He was just looking at the clock and realizing he should slowly start to close the shop, when the little bell above the stores door jingled.

The florist looked up to see a man standing slightly awkward in the door.

...a very handsome man.

He was around Junichirou's hight, with red hair some shades darker than Junichirou. The man wore a cropped green jaket and a white V-neck shirt as well as...a band aid on his nose?

Wierd fashion choice...b ut it doese look good on him.

He'd look good in everything.

Jun we don't even know his name!

I'm just saying!

Junichirou shook his head to get rid of his thoughts as he put on a smile again.

"May I help you?"

The man jumped a little but then went up to the desk at which the other redhead was sitting.

"Uh yeah. I think you can." Junicirou chuckled. "And how?"

The man rolled his eyes but his cheeks were tinted a light pink.

"I just need an arrangement for the front window of the place I work at." "Oh so you can say stuff that makes sense!"

Junichirou was usually not like this, especially to customers. He didn't know what it was about this guy that made it so easy for him to tease and joke but if he was honest...he liked it.

The redhead in front of him snorted and raised an eyebrow.

"So now that we've established that-" Junichirou stood up and grabbed his notebook and pen. "-what's the style you're going for?"

"Well it's a tattoo shop-" "The one down the street?" "-Uh yeah. Do you know it?"

The florist tapped his pen on the notebook.

"Yeah my coworkers boyfriend works there..." ,he mumbled as he walked over to some of the flowers in he coner that might be of intrest for the man.

"Oh-um well then if you've been there before you should know what type of aesthetic, I guess, we are going for, right?"

Junichirou hummed.

"'kay so I have some ideas. The thing is just you came very shortly before closing and frankly I have a sister at home that will beat the shit out of me if I'm not back on time so-"

The redhead went into the back to get his bag.

"_don't worry I'll have the arrangement finished tomorrow at noon. I'll just need you to write down your name and if you want it to be brought to the shop of course where the shop is. Please make it fast I can't be late."

The taller man in front of him looked slightly speachless but then seemed to regain his mind because he started writing the information down on the pice of paper JUnichirou had given him.

Tachihara Michizou, huh?

I'll remeber that...

Tachihara seemed to linger for a few seconds too long until he then turned around and walked to the shops door.

"Oh yeah by the way."

JUnichirou looked back up.

"You look cute." ,he winked. "Well see ya sometime, Red!"

JUnichirou just looked at the door closing with his mouth open.

"Wha-what the fuck just happned?!"

Honestly Junichirou was just confused.

He walked the short way to his and Naomi’s apartment without paying attention to anyrhing, nearly getting hit by a car.

He was so distracted that even completely ignored his sister who jumped to hug him the second he opened the door, which wasn’t good.

“Hey! Are you ignoring me?!“

“H-huh? Oh! Sorry Naomi!“

“Something must have happned at work today.“ the redhead could feel his cheeks heating up. „So I’m right!“

“Yeah ok ok you’re right.“ Junichirou walked around his sister into the kitchen, where he opened the cupboard to get out two bowls.

“So tell me!“

„You‘re a noisy one, aren’t you?“ „Hey! Don’t be mean to your adorable little sister!“

The siblings sat down as the water started to boil.

There was a comfortable silence between them even if Junichirou could practically feel Naomi‘s questions floating in the air.

“Ok it has to do with a customer.“ Naomi gave the happy little squeak she always gave when he told her, as she called it, „The tea“ from work.

“So I was just about to close where this guy came in.“ his sister seemed to visibly get even more intrigued.

„He was like really handsome. He was tall, had red hair, intense eyes and I’m pretty sure he wore eyeliner. He had an interesting fashion style and had a bunch of tattoos, because he works at the tattoo parlor Atsushi‘s boyfriend also works at.“

Naomi hummed with a smirk on her lips, as she held her head in her hands.

“Well he walked in last minute and asked for an arrangement for the front of their parlor. And of course I was like: „sure I’ll do it. It’ll be done by tomorrow just give me the name of the place and I’ll deliver it“, right?“ Naomi nodded.

“And everything is fine everything is normal.“ his sister raised an eyebrow. „Ok normal with a little bit more blushing.“

“Anyway! He walks out but just before he leaves he turns around to me and says, and I quote: „You look cute.“ and then he winked at me and left!“

The black haired girl in front of him gasped. „He winked?! No he didn’t!“ „Yes he did!“ „Oh god!“

The water was finally done boiling so Junichirou stood up to get it and finish their dinner.

“Well he seems to like you. Wait- did you get his name?“ „Uh- yeah I did. I need it for the delivery and everything, remember?“ „Yeah yeah. So what is it?“ „Tachihara…Michizou Tachihara.“

Even if Junichirou didn’t like the expression on his sisters face he just ignored it and sat down in front of her with the food.

„Good Morning Jun!“

„AHH Oh god Naomi don’t scare me like that!“

“Yeah yeah whatever. Come on I need to show you something!“

„Wait don’t I need to go to-wait it’s 6am. What the fuck Are you doing awake?“ „Pssst!“

Naomi basically ran through their small apartment dragging a very tried Junichirou behind her.

On the small couch the siblings own sat a girl with red glasses, long brown hair and tried looking green eyes.

Haruno, his sisters girlfriend.

„Good morning Haruno.“ „Good Morning Junichirou“, she said giving him a small smile. They suffered together by the hands of the one, Naomi Tanizaki.

“We found something out. Sit down.“ The black haired girl grabbed to open laptop sitting on the table in front of the couch.

With „we“ she probably mean Haruno, and she was just cuddling her half the time…

“Michizou Tachihara, 22 years of age, Tattoo artist. He’s currently single and a bisexual. He has been working at Port tattoo for about 2 or 3 years, not sure about that one. He’s pretty good friends with someone called Gin Akutagawa, but don’t worry they have a girlfriend.“

“Also before you ask: yes Gin is related to Atsushi‘s boyfriend. They are siblings“, Naomi‘s girlfriend piped up.

Junichirou was just stunned.

“Wha-what? When? How? Did you guys even sleep?!“

“No we did not but that is not important! What’s important is that we now know that he is single and probably attracted to you.“

He had no words.

Junichirou was distracted again.

He was just working on an arrangement for a handsome bisexual guy who told him he looked cute…

What the actual fuck?!

He took a step back.

The arrangement was beautiful, one of his best works he’d say.

A lot of dark blues and purples.

The hyacinths blending beautifully with the cornflowers. Just all in all pretty.

Sure he thought it was kind of embarrassing adding the cornflowers, he knew a lot about flower language after all but most of his customers didn’t really care especially for these types of jobs so the redhead bushed those thoughts to the back of his head.

Junichirou took a deep breath.

Lets do this!

Be confident!

He took the arrangement.

The walk wasn’t going to be long so it was fine for him to just carry it.

“Ok I’m off, Atsushi! See you in a bit!“ „Yeah sure thing, Tani!“

…

The walk to the tattoo parlor was blurr and now he was standing in front of it.

Oh fucking god-

Deep breaths Junichirou

Deep breaths

And he walked in.

“Hello how can I help you?“

The woman at the front was a little older than him, had blond hair that she had in a bun and had warm brown eyes. She looked nice.

“Uh I need to talk to uhm Tachihara?“

She eyed him a little bit visibly inspecting the vase in his hand.

She gave him a smirk.

“Yeah he should be free I’ll tell him.“

“Thank you…“

He had only ever been in here once. He had to wait in the front room as Atsushi and Akutagawa were at each other’s throats agin. Oh how happy he was they were dating now. Less fighting…less.

The place looked nice though.

Even if it had a rather cool color palette with a lot of blues, purples and blacks it still seemed very cozy and the seats were the softest things Junichirou‘s ass had ever touched.

Some of the work by the artist that worked here was displayed on the walls. These people were so goddamm talented.

#my fanfiction #tachihara michizou #tanihara #tanizaki x tachihara #tanizaki junichirou #bungou stray dogs

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rogue-durin-16 · 4 years

Text

THE FLOWER IN THE FORGE (part I/II)

Request: Thorin x fem human! reader please where they meet in Ered Luin during Thorin’s blacksmith days, she bonded with the rest of the Durins too especially Dis, so just cute & stuff until finally Thorin has to leave to reclaim Erebor, maybe a bit of an angsty bittersweet ending because the reader is not interested in being a queen

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x human!Reader

Genre: mostly fluff

Tags:

Requested by: @queenofmankind

Permanent taglist: @queenofmankind @randomparanoid

Warnings: none really

A/N: this is my first fanfic of the Hobbit so it might be a bit meh but I need practice so forgive me plz. Also for those who don't know, English is not my mother tongue so I have to get used to this. Now enjoy <3

Part II

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Selling flowers in the town's market might not have been the most profitable business, but it was a beautiful one.

Each morning, I would leave my lowly home and walk all the way through the town square to the stall where colorful bouquets and delicate flower crowns were already waiting for me.

Though one day, as I made my way to my working place as always, I heard unusual metallic bang. Then another, and another, and another, it was almost rhythmic.

Out of curiosity I strayed from my path in order to discover what that sound was. It was early in the morning, not many places were open.

I gradually slowed down when I saw a raven-haired dwarf forging a sword at the end of the street, in what I thought was an abandoned blacksmith's shop.

I guessed it was no longer abandoned.

The dwarf looked up and his icy eyes fixed on mines with such an intensity that made me look away, almost ashamed of having stared at him for too long.

Just as I was about to make my way up the street again and retake my usual path, a deep, loud voice spoke. "Good morning."

I turned to meet his eyes once more. This time somehow they looked less intimidating than a couple of seconds before. "Good morning to you." I replied with a timid smile. "I apologize, I did not mean to stare."

"Do not apologize, m'lady." He responded leaving his hammer resting on the wooden table. "I understand it may be rare to see... Well, a-"

"Blacksmith in town." I finished his sentence with my words before he could finish with his. "We lacked from one for so long, I doubt I have ever listened to the hammering of the forge before." we stayed in silence for an instant before I spoke again. "May I know your name?"

"Only if I know yours."

"Y/n Y/l/n." I replied with a smile.

"Thorin Oakenshield." he presented himself, with a subtle bow of his head. "At your service."

"I will leave you now to your task, Thorin. I too have a job I must attend." I turned around once more while I waved goodbye at the handsome dwarf.

"Farewell, Y/n." as I got farther from him, I started hearing the hits of the hammer against the metal sword once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

What am I doing, I asked myself as I made my way to the blacksmith's with a portion of food I had bought in the market.

"Hey." Thorin looked up at me and almost instantly a half smile appeared on his lips. "happy to see me again?"

"Very." he replied, stopping his work. "I thought I might have scared you yesterday."

"Oh, you did." I spoke the truth, sitting on a free bench besides him. "But you have a pretty smile." he seemed shocked at my words, almost confused. "I brought you some food." I handed him the portion and he left the table he was working over to stand in front of me. "it occurred to me that you may be hungry."

"That's very thoughtful of you." Thorin sat besides and started eating. "but you don't have to look for excuses to come and see me." I widened my eyes and he let out a chuckle. "I was joking."

"I'm not paying you to court a human, dwarf! Work!" I burrowed my brows at the poor treatment, and, even though I could feel Thorin’s anger, he obliged and, after getting up, he gripped the hammer and the sword with such strength that his knuckles went white.

"I did not mean to distract you." He simply shook his head, dismissing me without any kind of eye contact. I could tell he was angry. "I'll leave you to it now." I smiled at him, though he wasn't looking, and I stood up and walked out.

Since he was now behind me, I couldn't acknowledge the way his eyes lingered on me; the longing they held.

"Y/n! Long time no see, kid." the bartender who worked in the same street as Thorin called my name. "What are you doing down here?"

"I came to see Thorin."

"Thorin?"

"The blacksmith." I detailed.

His face fell and a frown installed in his face. "That dwarf? What are your business with him?" before I could give a confused question for an answer, he spoke again. "Be careful, lass. Dwarves are not ones to trust."

"Uh... Sure."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day was close to the end when a pair of young dwarves appeared in my street, seemingly confused. "Excuse me, lady- Oh those are pretty." the dark-haired one spoke, visibly losing his trail of thoughts when his eyes got caught in the flower crowns.

"Kíli, focus." the blond one urged the other, nudging him. "Lady may I ask which way must we go in order to reach the blacksmith's shop?"

"You should walk to the end of this street, then take a left turn and go up, when you reach the square-"

"Could you guide us there?" The blond dwarf begged. "We have been lost for a couple of hours now."

"If you give me a moment, I will." I responded. I was going to leave soon anyway.

"Fíli, we should buy one of this crowns for mom." the brunet suggested, completely ignoring his brother distress. "She will love it."

With a sigh, Fíli took a look at the crown his brother was pointing at. "How much for this one, lady?"

Once they paid, I handed the crown to the brunet and closed the stall. "Alright lads, follow me." I guided them both all the way to the blacksmith's. I didn't need to ask if they knew Thorin, that was an obvious answer, though it was confirmed when, after hearing the noise both dwarves were causing behind me, he looked up with what I could tell was a scolding glare.

It softened considerably when his gaze was met with mine instead of with either of theirs.

"Y/n." A smile made its way to my face at the way my name rolled out of his tongue, which triggered a confident smirk on his. "I see you found my troublesome nephews." I let out a laugh, turning to meet two pair of curious eyes already staring at me. "Did they cause you any problems?"

"Not at all," I assured, taking a few steps more to reach the place where he was working. "they just could not find their way to here and requested my services as a guide."

"That was very kind of you," Thorin pointed out, his eyes fixed on mines with some kind of warmth "though I am not sure if I should thank you for bringing them to me." he then turned to both dwarves. "You should be at home."

"We came to keep your company." The blond one assured to his uncle.

"I do not need company." he sternly replied, to which the dark-haired one responded with a quiet murmur, causing his brother to nudge him scoldingly.

"What was it?" I questioned, curious, as I took a seat on a wooden stool near the forge.

"Nothing m'lady." the blond lied with an apologetic look.

"Kíli." Thorin called with tremendous authority in his voice. "What was it."

Kíli's lips formed a knowing, mischievous smile before any word left his mouth. "I said that we sure are poor company compared to the beautiful lady besides you, uncle." his brother pinched the bridge of his nose and I felt my cheeks burning.

"You are not wrong," Thorin replied with calmness and confidence in his voice. "Y/n is much better company than a couple of problematic dwarves." my cheeks only got redder, and though he was not looking at me, by the ghost of a smile in his gaze I could tell he somehow had noticed. "Now go home, it's late."

"Aren't you coming with us?" Fíli asked.

"I have too much work left to do." I was in that moment going to leave the blacksmith's to go home, but then I heard his words. "I'll spend the night here. Tell my sister not to worry." his nephews nodded and left us alone. "You should go home too." he commented, undoing the laces of his shirt after rekindling the fire.

"What did you mean with spending the night here?" I inquired, loosening my own laces.

It was way too hot in there.

"By the time I finish, it will be too late to go all the way back." he explained already back to the making of another sword.

"You can stay in my house." I suggested without giving a second thought to my words. "It's... Not much but there's enough room."

"You are too kind." he whispered, submerging the sword into water to cool it down. "It is alright, won't be the first time I do not have a bed to rest," he left the sword aside and proceeded to take off his shirt. "and it should won't be the last."

I didn't quite process the fact that he was shirtless until he started edging the sword, which made his muscles tense. His skin glistened with the sweat that the blacksmith's caused; his long raven hair fell in cascade partially covering his shoulders—

"Seems to me you like what you see." I was staring. Again. "It's alright." he assured with that that smug grin in his face. "You really should go home."

"I'll help you." I stated, using a lace on my wrist to tie up my hair. Once again I missed the way Thorin’s eyes fixed on my while I secured the hair; the way his jaw slightly dropped when, with my hair up, he was able to see my back. "That way you will finish earlier and we will go home together."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

THORIN'S P. O. V.

It was late night when I finally closed the blacksmith's shop and we went to Y/n's home.

We walked in silence —a comfortable one.

"Do you need a change of clothes?" she questioned, making her way to what I supposed was her bedchamber. "There's probably something in the chest."

"It won't be necessary." I spoke, sitting down to take off my boots. I looked up for an instant, and found Y/n's door not closed enough to shield her half naked body from me. I rapidly averted my eyes and turned around.

"If you change... your mind..." I could feel her gaze on my back as I took off both my shirts, so I looked over my shoulder to meet her eyes. "You can grab one." with a smile, she opened her bedchamber's door and motioned me to pass. "The bed is big enough so don't you dare to argue." she warned me, lying down under the blankets. "I'm tired."

"No wonder why," I listened to her, lying besides her over the bedding. "It was a long day." she hummed in response and, when I turned to her, she had her eyes closed already.

Ethereal was the only valid word to describe her. Damn my height, damn my race, damn my—

"like what you see?" she teased with a grin, her eyes still closed.

"I do." was I too forward? I had met her barely a week ago. Maybe her words and actions where misleading me, she was one of kind nature.

Her eyes opened and she stared into mines. "Do you?" I rolled to my side and gave her a discreet nod.

Before I could move towards her in order to test the waters, her lips where on mines, though as fast as they came, they left to be hidden behind the blankets.

"I apologize." she mumbled.

To which I replied, "Do not." I moved my hand to move the blanket away from her face so I could return the kiss to her.

#Thorin x reader #Thorin Oakenshield x human! Reader #Thorin x human reader #Thorin imagine #Thorin smut #Thorin fluff #Thorin x reader request #Thorin x reader fluff #Blacksmith thorin x reader #Blacksmith thorin x human reader #Thorin Oakenshield imagine #Thorin Oakenshield x reader #Thorin x oc #Durin's sons imagine #Kili x reader #Thorin Oakenshield request #Thorin Oakenshield smut #Thorin son of Thrain fanfic #Thorin x reader oneshot

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not-majestic-bluenicorn · 4 years

Text

It’s mine now || BTS Jin x Yoongi One-shot

Fandom(s): BTS

AU: Non-idols

Prompts: Oversized Hoodies/Sweaters ( @btsholidaybingo ), Sweater Weather

Genre: NSFW, Fluff, Romance

Relationship: Jin x Yoongi

Language: English

Status: Finished

WC: 1,813 words

Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Praise Kink, Gay Sex (anal fingering, anal sex), Handjob

Summary:

Yoongi really likes wearing Jin's sweaters, and Jin likes how he looks in them.

AO3

Yoongi loved this weather. It wasn’t cold enough that he needed to turn the heater on, but it was cold enough that he could justify stealing Jin’s sweaters, which were perfectly oversized on him. Yoongi had a lot of sweaters of his own that he often used when they went out. But when he was working from home, waiting for Jin to arrive from the office, he just loved to wrap himself in one of the eldest’s sweaters and go about his day comfortably cuddled in it.

This particular piece was a baby blue knitted sweater which Jin liked to wear often. It was soft and smelled vaguely of flowers -according to the detergent brand, it was supposed to be chamomile-, and it was so big on him that if he didn’t balance it properly, it slipped down one of his shoulders. The beauty of the knots contrasted with his very simple grey sweatpants, but Yoongi felt so soft and warm that he didn’t mind much.

He was revising the lyrics for some tracks for a new album that would be coming out some time in the next two months. Technically, it was his free day and he wasn’t supposed to be working. However, being the workaholic he was, he couldn’t stay away from his work for long. Plus, he wasn’t really doing anything much other than read and make annotations and corrections. To be fair, his brain was very focused on the task of missing Jin.

It was Yoongi’s free day. It was only fair that he got to spend it with his very handsome boyfriend whom he didn’t get to see much because he was a very successful working man. And Yoongi loved that he was successful, he just also really wanted to spend time with him. He saved the changes on the file he was working on and closed it begrudgingly. It was obvious he wasn’t gonna get any more work done for the day.

Yoongi leaned back on his wheeled chair as he played with the sleeves of the sweater. They were soft. He could remember Jin wearing this sweater before. It had a deep v-neck, which showed Jin’s collarbone and gave Yoongi the terrible, terrible urge to mark his boyfriend up. The v-neck kind of defeated the purpose of the sweater, especially on Yoongi since it dipped so low, but hell if it didn’t nurture imagination.

The front door opened and Yoongi almost jumped out of his chair. Jin was back and he didn’t want to seem too excited about it. Plus, the oldest was probably exhausted after a full day at work. Yoongi didn’t want to overwhelm him even if he had missed him a lot. Instead, he made his way to the door of his little studio and leaned on the doorframe, watching as Jin took off his shoes and put his suitcase away.

“I’m home,” Jin sing-sang, pulling his tie loose and brushing his hair back.

“Welcome home,” Yoongi replied with a small smile on his lips.

Jin’s eyes narrowed down on the sweater he was wearing and he raised both eyebrows, clicking his tongue. He walked up to Yoongi and tilted his head up to give him a kiss. Yoongi had to stop himself from grabbing the back of Jin’s hair and pushing him closer, and instead kissed him back delicately.

Yoongi followed Jin to their room and watched him take off the tie and belt and put them away before sitting on the bed and leaning against the headboard. He looked tired. Yoongi didn’t think twice before climbing on the bed and straddling Jin, using his broad shoulders as support. Jin looked at Yoongi with interest and brushed aside a wild strand of hair.

“I’m so hungry, what are we gonna have for dinner?” Jin muttered, although he wasn’t really thinking of food.

“What about having a snack first?” Yoongi hummed, rocking his hips slowly and deliberately, making Jin let out a soft sigh.

“You’re wearing my clothes again.” Jin pointed out. There was no malice in his voice, but Yoongi didn’t miss the way Jin’s eyes lingered a tad too long on the cleavage before going back up.

“I’d like to think it’s mine now,” Yoongi smiled, cocky, as he wrapped his arms around Jin’s neck.

“We can certainly make it yours,” Jin smiled too, half-lidded eyes looking at Yoongi’s lips before his hands pushed the middle of his back and they closed the distance between them with a kiss.

Yoongi’s fingers buried in the hair on Jin’s nape as he unbuttoned his slacks and then pulled Yoongi’s pants down just enough. Yoongi wasn’t wearing underwear, and Jin smirked into the kiss. His lips traced kisses over Yoongi’s cheek before he went down to his exposed neck and collarbone, kissing the soft skin before biting into it, tearing pliant moans from Yoongi’s lips.

“Were you eager to the point of not wearing underwear?” Jin teased, lips stuck to the warm skin of Yoongi’s collarbone as his hand wrapped around both of their half-hard members.

“Shut up,” Yoongi moaned, moving his hips into the warmth of Jin’s long fingers.

Jin complied and busied his mouth with something else instead. He really liked how this particular sweater looked on Yoongi, because it was so big that it left a lot of skin exposed for him to mark and taste. Jin purposefully bought soft and big sweaters for himself, just to see Yoongi in them when the weather was right. He didn’t think Yoongi knew, but he liked to wear Jin’s clothes even without being prompted.

He was a bit tired after work, but Yoongi was moving his hips so eagerly, rubbing their dicks together, that Jin couldn’t help but want to give him everything he wanted. He bit on a particular tender spot on Yoongi’s shoulder, and felt as Yoongi’s hips stuttered when he sucked hard on his skin, leaving a bright red mark. A groan fell out of Yoongi’s lips as he leaned on Jin’s shoulder, taking a break.

“Your skin is so sensitive, such a pretty canvas.” Jin whispered in his ear as he took the initiative and moved his hand, using the pre-cum as a sort of lube. “Do you like it when I mark you up? Is that the reason you use my sweaters?”

“Ah- Hyung…” Yoongi moaned, eyes closed tight. Jin was doing the bare minimum, but when he spoke to him like that, it sent a shiver down his spine. “Want you inside, quickly…” He begged.

“Mhm,” Jin hummed, reaching with his free hand to the nightstand and opening the drawer swiftly. He blindly grabbed the lube, but he couldn’t find any condoms. “Hm, if you let me go for a moment I can go grab some condoms.”

“Don’t bother, hurry up.” Yoongi hit Jin’s chest softly, really wanting him to just get on with it. He had missed Jin so much and had dressed like that just for him… If he didn’t hurry, Yoongi might as well just go crazy.

Yoongi shuddered with the intrusion of two long fingers covered in lukewarm lube. He whimpered softly as he rocked his hips to get Jin’s finger to go deeper, to open him up. Jin put a third finger in with ease after a couple of minutes, and held Yoongi firmly by his middle so he wouldn’t move too much. It was torture, being unable to move how he wanted as Jin opened him up, but he was soon rewarded when Jin pulled his fingers out and guided Yoongi to sit on his bare cock.

“Are you okay?” Jin whispered, wiping a tear from Yoongi’s face. Yoongi nodded and chuckled softly before kissing Jin deeply.

“I just missed you,” Yoongi confesses, body flush against Jin.

He began moving, his legs trembling under his weight until he managed to settle a stable rhythm. Jin’s hands guided him firmly, as he admired the hickeys that the sweater couldn’t cover as it slid down Yoong’s left shoulder.

“You look so, so pretty in my clothes, especially sweaters like this,” Jin muttered, hands sliding under the sweater to hold Yoongi’s hips properly. “You look so good like this, I love you.”

“Ah- Hyung-” Yoongi panted, the words getting to his head, making his body flush with embarrassment. “More-”

One of Jin’s hands wrapped around Yoongi’s cock and stroked him steadily, keeping up with the pace the younger had settled for himself. Yoongi’s face was buried in Jin’s neck, leaving ghostly kisses as he chased his and Jin’s pleasure. Jin continued murmuring sweet words to his ear.

“You’re doing so well, hm?” Jin hummed, his voice trembling with pleasure. He too had missed Yoongi, as they were usually so busy with work and Yoongi would sometimes sleep over at the studio to finish a track. It made him happy to know Yoongi missed him so much as well. “Ah, you’re bringing me close-” Jin let out a shuddery sigh, feeling Yoongi tighten around him.

“Hyung- Wait, the sweater…!” Yoongi warned him, as he was close to finishing as well.

“It’s okay,” Jin kissed the shell of his ear, stroking him faster and meeting him as Yoongi’s hips began to fail him. “I can buy you many more pretty sweaters like this one, just let go.”

Yoongi didn’t last much longer as he spilled, dirtying his pants and Jin’s sweater, whispering a thousand ‘I love you’s. Jin followed right after, coming inside of Yoongi as his movements slowed down and he became slack on top of him. Jin removed his hands from under the sweater and hugged Yoongi close, feeling his breathing slow down slowly. He didn’t care about getting the sweater even dirtier, his promise was real after all.

The youngest had his arms wrapped around Jin, head leaned on his shoulder as he left sweet kisses on Jin’s neck. Jin tried to move so he could get both cleaned and ready for dinner, but Yoongi whined, strengthening his grip.

“Let’s stay like this a little while,” Yoongi muttered, sleepy. “I like feeling full like this.”

“I’m hungry though,” Jin complained half-heartedly, although he was indeed hungry.

“No, you’re not, your mind is playing tricks on you,” Yoongi declared, very seriously, and Jin couldn’t help but laugh.

Jin decided to comply, though, and he stayed right where he was, caressing Yoongi’s back on top of the sweater as he looked at the marks he had left all over his neck and collarbone. Maybe, he thought, it would be better to just start buying his own sweaters with Yoongi in mind. Yoongi liked to use them, and Jin liked to see him in them. Sweater weather was quickly starting to become his favorite. And if it meant seeing Yoongi all pliant in pretty clothes like that, then he was willing to spend a bit more.

#kwritersworldnet #kconnet #kdiarynet #btsholidaybingo #unbeleafable bingo #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts jin #bts yoongi #jin #yoongi #jin x yoongi #bluenicorn writes

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dramaqueeenamby · 6 years

Text

4AM: Birthday

A/N: Sooooo I kind of wanted to do this, but I didn’t want to take time away from working on the actual chapter, and then I got THIS ask, and now you have this backstory blurb. lol

Hope you enjoy!

Words: 1.8K

Birthday

T’Challa hated buying gifts.

It wasn’t the actual act of giving someone something that irked the prince. No, it was rather figuring just what the hell to get said person. Personally, he’d rather just give the individual an exorbitant amount of money, and tell him or her to go crazy.

In fact, that is what he’d done with his sister from the moment she was born, and it worked.

Even with Nakia.

So why in the hell couldn’t he find it in him to do the same with Bashira?

T’Challa quietly cursed as he laid back on his bed, his forearm over his forehead as he sulked with irritation.

He’d been trying to figure out just what to get his betrothed for nearly two weeks and had now run out of time as today was her birthday.

The only thing he’d gifted her so far was a simple message wishing her a happy birthday and his apologies that he couldn’t attend the dinner that her parents had planned as he had a meeting to attend for his father.

Of course, she’d replied with a thank you and shared her understanding, but that didn’t quell his frustration.

He wanted to give her something, but he wanted it to be different, not generic, something she would remember, and something that just made sense.

He wanted it to have meaning.

Well, that shit was a lot easier said than done.

“Damn,” he murmured, sitting up and placing his head in his hands.

He was truly lost, and that was something he didn’t like.

T’Challa liked to be in control at all times.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t one of those times.

He had to fix it.

Pulling up his kimoyo bracelet, he hesitated. Was he really that desperate? Looking at the clock, seeing that it was going on 7:00, he realized that yes, he was that desperate.

He made the call and damn near hung up when the other person answered.

“T’Challa?”

“Are you busy?” He blurted out, making a mental note to try to be as nice as he could which was difficult to do because he was already stressed out.

“Uhhh,” Ode hesitated. He heard her tell someone that she’d be right back. “No. I suppose not. Although, I am not sure-”

“I need a gift.” Yeah. Being nice clearly wasn’t his forte.

“For Bashira?” Suddenly, he had nothing to say. “Are you serious right now? Her birthday is today, T’Challa.”

He didn’t even bother to correct her on how informal she was being. “I am well aware.”

“You sure? Because if that was the case, you wouldn’t be avoiding her right now.”

“I am not-”

“Oh? Then why are you not at the bar with the rest of us?” Again, silence. “Exactly.”

“What does she like?” He hated how pathetic he sounded. “Jewelry? Diamonds? Choc-”

“She likes knowing that people actually care.” A beat. “Bast, what do you two even talk about when you’re together?” He could practically envisage the irritated look on her face. “Nevermind. Bashira isn’t materialistic. Even you must know that by now.”

“I do. That’s what is making this so damn difficult.” He sighed heavily. He was ready to just give her the six-figure stash of cash that sat on his nightstand when his eyes fell on a picture that adorned his wall. The prince stood up and stared at the painting, reaching out to trace the outline of his litter sister’s face when his lips turned up into a smile.

“Ode. I have to call you back.”

“Wait. Wh-”

He hung up before she could finish her statement.

He knew exactly what he was going to get her.

---

Bashira tried not to allow the fact that T’Challa had been MIA almost all day bother her.

But it did.

She wasn’t looking for a gift, not really. Her parents had definitely gone above and beyond. Friends. Students. Ode and Amari. They all came out to help her celebrate living to see another year, and while she was certainly grateful for all the love, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she felt a little hurt by how distant and insensitive T’Challa was being.

Bashira laughed aloud. Was she really expecting balloons and roses and whatnot from him? The man was as stoic as they come. Why would he be any different to her?

She sent out a message to Ode to be careful as her dear friend had met a rather handsome soldier at the bar and was spending the night with him after being encouraged by Bashira. She truly was exhausted and did not feel up to staying up all night watching romantic comedy movies with her roommate which originally was on the agenda.

“You enjoyed yourself, yes?” Amari asked as she and her oldest friend stood outside of the door to her apartment.

Bashira turned around and smiled. “Of course.” She brought her hands to the necklace around her neck that spelled her name. “And I love my gift.”

He returned her smile. “I’m glad. You deserve it.” Bashira maintained her grin as she went to go dig for her key when she felt his hand on her shoulder. “Bashira?”

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Yes.”

If she were paying attention, she would have seen the sweat forming on his forehead. “I-”

Bashira jumped, as did Amari, when the door to her apartment suddenly swung open, revealing a shirtless Prince of Wakanda.

“T’Challa?” She whispered, trying very hard not to focus on his muscles, broad shoulders, lean body, or how his dark denim jeans clung to his hips, a hint of his V showing.

“What is he doing here?” Amari asked, looking over at Bashira who was equally confused. “How did he even get in?”

“I have a key.” T’Challa answered, leaning against the door, his arms crossed.

Amari’s eyes widened. “You gave him a key?”

Her jaw dropped slightly. “No, well, yes. Why exactly are you here?” She questioned T’Challa, catching his eyes as they trailed over her being.

She gasped when he reached out and pulled her into him, his hands on her hips. “It’s your birthday, is it not?”

Her heart was beating a mile per minute as he trailed his index finger across her cheek. Bast, this man was sexy.

“It’s been her birthday all day, your highness. I think you are a bit late.” Amari said dryly, as T’Challa turned his darkened gaze on him.

He was really starting to irritate the prince.

“Yes, well, our celebration is better carried out in the evening.” He winked as Bashira dropped her eyes, feeling uncomfortable with the double meaning to his words. “I do thank you for walking her to her door, though.”

“Wait-” Amari started as he saw T’Challa lightly tug Bashira inside of the apartment, reaching for the handle.

“Goodnight.” T’Challa managed a sly grin as he shut the door in the other man’s face, almost immediately earning a slap on his arm from an annoyed Bashira.

“That was so rude,” she spoke, walking into her place, kicking off her heels along the way. “You owe him an apology tomorrow.”

T’Challa laughed. “Funny.” When she turned around and glared at him, he rolled his eyes. “How was your dinner?”

“Fine,” she murmured, reaching to pull off her earrings, her back toward him.

He nodded slowly, hating the awkward silence between them. “What ab-”

“Look, T’Challa,” she started, turning around and closing her eyes. “I don’t know why you are here, but if you wanted to spend time with me, you should have done so earlier today. I am exhausted now, so if you don’t mind….” She trailed off, shaking her head as she moved to walk past him, heading toward her room. “I just don’t-” He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he realized she’d seen it. “What the-”

Bashira gasped as she spotted the beginning of a path of roses that lead to her room, the princess walking along the flowers and hitting the switch to see that the flowers didn’t stop there. They decorated her room, from her bed, her sitting area, everywhere.

“Oh my….” she scoffed in disbelief and walked over to her mattress to see several boxes of her favorite types of chocolate, a bottle of wine, and a stuffed animal waiting for her. However, as wonderful as all of that was, what really sent her over the edge was the large picture leaning against her wall.

With scrunched eyes, she made her way over, stopping midway as she realized what it was.

She covered her mouth. “Bast….” It was a painting, a painting of her, a crown of butterflies adorning her head, and around the portrait, words, and statements such as beauty, princess, grace, wisdom, know your worth, queen.

“I can’t believe,” she breathed, turning around to see that the prince…..was nervous. His eyes darted from her face to the ground as he waited for her to say something else. Did she like it? Did she hate it? He hated silence.

“I could not figure out what to get you. Not even after two weeks, and it was only tonight that I realized you would probably prefer something-”

“I love it,” she cut him off, T’Challa looking down to see she was in front of him, her hands planted on his chest, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “It’s….no one has ever done such a kind thing for me before.” He froze for a second when she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head into him. “Thank you, T’Challa.”

After getting over the initial shock, he easily returned her embrace, ghosting his lips over the top of her head. “You are welcome, entle.”

After a few seconds, she pulled away, eyeing him with an emotion he couldn’t pinpoint.

“What?” He asked quietly, watching as she backed away and reached for the bottom of her dress, the prince taking a sharp breath as she lifted it over her head and threw it onto the bed. T’Challa’s eyes stayed glued to her ass which was covered in lace boy short underwear that matched with the top. He followed her every move as she sat down in front of the portrait and pulled her legs up to her chest, looking at him over her shoulder.

“Will you take a picture of me?”

His breath caught in his throat. Bast she was something else.

The prince used the camera from his kimoyo beads to snap a few shots of her, even being dragged in one of them where she surprised him with a kiss on his cheek before she decided that she’d had enough.

“You are staying the night…..right?” He looked over at her as they both stood, his hands planted firmly on her ass as she stared up at him.

“If that is what you wish,” he nodded softly, squinting down at her. Bast, she was stunning.

“It is,” she smiled wryly and leaned up to steal a kiss before breaking away. “I’m going to go take a shower. I won’t be long.”

He shook his head and started to let her walk away when he grabbed her hand yanked her back into him, smashing his lips on hers, groaning when he heard her small moan as he massaged her bottom lip with his tongue. However, T’Challa quickly realized that the uncomfortable tightening in his denim would not go away so long as they continued, so he reluctantly….very reluctantly pulled away.

Bashira panted lightly, holding onto his arm as T’Challa dropped his head into her neck and pecked her shoulder.

She smiled softly and held onto him.

“Happy Birthday, Bashira….”

---

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#t'challa x reader #t'challa x bashira #black panther imagine #black panther #black panther fanfiction #t'challa x OC #t'challa x black reader #fic: 4AM #4AM blurb

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sinsiriuslyemo · 8 years

Text

For fluffy Rafael Friday

Okay, there’s a tad bit of angst in here, but it’s short lived, most of it is fluff!! Also, I know it’s too early for V-Day, but it came to me, so I wrote it down lol

A Stranger Proper

Origin story of Valentine’s Day found on markmerrill.com

Valentine’s Day. One of the most romantic days of the year, or so it was thought to be by most, mainly the hundreds upon thousands of companies that profited from the idea of romance. In actuality the story of Valentine’s Day followed the beautiful, albeit tragic story of a simple Christian priest who secretly married soldiers before they went off to war during the third century in Rome, when Cladius the cruel had cancelled all marriages and engagements in order to recruit more warriors for his army. Valentine was eventually captured and imprisoned where he fell in love with the blind daughter of his jailer.

On the eve of his execution, and without a writing utensil at hand, he squeezed ink from a violet to pen the love of his life a sonnet. According to historians, this sonnet was said to have granted the jailer’s daughter her vision. The next day, Valentine was clubbed to death by Roman executioners. Eventually the priest was sainthood by the Catholic church, and they created a feast in his honor, deciding on February 14. This was the real story; the one that Hallmark and Ferrero Rocher failed to remember, instead urging people to buy their cards and chocolates.

Despite his appreciation for the history, Rafael had long ago grow tired of seeing couples strolling along the snowy New York City sidewalk, of the looks he would receive when he entered a restaurant and polite asked for a table, just for himself.

“Might you be more comfortable at the bar, sir?” the maitre d asked him, plastered smile on his face.

Why no, as a matter of fact, he would more comfortable in a booth. But instead of arguing, instead of subjecting himself to more looks of pity or scrutiny, he simply nodded curtly, and sat himself on one of the stools. He was alone, not that he wasn’t accustomed to it by now, but now even the bar was practically deserted save for the man coming in to pick up a takeout order for a romantic evening at home with his wife.

No one around him understood the true meaning of St. Valentine’s Day anymore. Not the couple seated in the booth five feet away from him, not the man getting to his knees and proposing to his loved one in the far corner, not even the bartender, who was currently in the far corner of the bar sharing a kiss with one of the waitresses. None of these people knew nor seemed to care of the sacrifice one man made for love so many centuries ago.

Finally, he was approached and asked for his order, and he was as pleasant and polite as he always was. Despite this he still received a look of sympathy, as though he was supposed to be sad about being by himself. He wasn’t. Not terribly anyway.

The stool beside him groaned after a few minutes, and he turned to see a young woman, possibly in her late twenties or early thirties sit down beside him. Long, wavy hair in what can only be described as beach curls, which he found ironic considering it was well below freezing outside, ivory skin, flushed red at the cheeks from the cold, and beautiful, lively eyes. She was stunning.

“Valentine’s Day,” she said as her eyes rolled dramatically. He smirked a little, nodding his head.

“My sentiments exactly,” he answered, taking a sip from his scotch.

“I bet none of these people realize that they don’t have to buy flowers and candies, go on romantic dinners just to celebrate Valentine’s Day. St. Valentine sacrificed his life so that love would be celebrated every day,” she mused, looking over the menu and ordering a glass of Dreaming Tree Crush when the bartender came back around. “Moreover I could do without the unspoken pressure of having to have someone to spend the day with solely because it’s Valentine’s Day.”

He couldn’t help the snort that escaped him at the nasally voice she assumed for the last three words she said, and he glanced over at her, arching a brow.

“How many people have offered to set you up this week alone?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Seven. You?”

“Three,” he answered, a little sheepishly.

“Looks like I win the battle of the singles over at the bar,” she teased. “I’m Y/N,” she added, holding out her hand, which he gently shook.

“Rafael.”

“Rafael,” she said. He smirked, deciding he liked the way she said his name. “Would it be alright if I sat next to you, at this bar, and enjoyed a delicious glass of wine and a meal without any expectations of romance?”

His smirk grew into a smile and he nodded his head as the barkeep placed his meal in front of him.

“I think that would be acceptable. Welcome to the Contently Single on Valentine’s Day bar,” he answered, holding up his glass for a toast. She didn’t hesitate to clink his glass with hers, taking a small sip from her red wine and humming at the taste.

She ordered her food– a medium rare filet and broccoli– before turning towards him again.

“So…Rafael, what do you do?” she asked in a friendly tone.

“I’m an attorney,” he answered.

“So you’re a lia-yer,” she replied playfully. He smiled around a mouthful of grilled salmon, looking over at her as he swallowed, shaking his head.

“I’m not that kind of lawyer,” he responded.

“There are other kinds?”

“I’d like to think so. I work at the DA’s office.”

“Oh, so you’re a good lia-yer,” she toyed, taking another sip of her wine as she watched him snort again.

“I try to keep myself honest,” he said softly. “What about you, what do you do?”

“You should guess, it’ll be fun.”

He set his fork down and looked her over, scrutinizing every beautiful detail of her face before he took in her attire, a long sleeved black and purple shirt, it appeared to be cotton. Her hair was perfect, her makeup minimal, nails unmanicured but well kept.

“Office manager,” he guessed. She shook her head.

“Do I really look like a professional manager person?” she asked, almost proud of herself for being able to pass as such. He smiled again.

“It was just a guess because I couldn’t gauge any hints from your appearance,” he replied honestly. “Do I get another guess?” he asked, if only to hear her speak again, maybe receive another whimsical smile.

“Nope.”

“That doesn’t seem very fair,” he mused, squinting his eyes a little. “Entrepreneur.” He guessed anyway.

She made a noise that resembled a buzzer, taking another sip from her cabernet.

“I’ll give you one last guess,” she said softly.

“Hmm…” He gave her another once over. “Lawyer.”

“I always tell the truth,” she teased. “Writer,” she relented. “Clichè, really. I write mostly romance novels.”

“Really?” She nodded as her steak came out, and she smiled thankfully at the bartender, ordering another glass of wine. “Anything I may have heard of?” he asked, taking another sip of his scotch before he scooped up some more of his blackened salmon.

“Are you a huge fan of romance novels?” she asked quietly, grinning.

“Obviously so, why else would I be sans significant other on Valentine’s Day?” he replied, and she laughed, the most beautiful song of a titter.

“Right,” she said after sobering. “I write the A Stranger Proper series.” She blushed, a most humble blush and he couldn’t help the smirk that came over his handsome features.

“My mother reads those,” he mumbled. “She loves them. My abuelita, God rest her soul, was a fan as well.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your…grandmother, right?” He nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Well, it means a lot to hear that I have even one reader, let alone have had two at once,” she said sincerely.

“Based on the New York Times Bestseller list, you have quite a few more than one. What is it…twelve books? Is that right?”

“Eleven,” she whispered as the bartender brought out her steak.

He gestured to her plate as she cut into the meat, and a nice trickle of blood oozed from the beef.

“You’re brave, ordering your steak medium rare.”

“Honestly, that is how steak is meant to be eaten. I’m sorry, but anyone who orders steak at any higher temperature than medium should just get the chicken. They obviously do not like steak,” she answered, popping a piece of the filet into her mouth and humming in content.

“I think I would agree. A beautiful cut like a filet especially.”

“Why anyone would dare to asked for a well done filet is beyond me. They should be clubbed in the street,” she added.

“I don’t know if I would take it that far,” he replied, polishing off his plate.

“You’re way too nice then,” she surmised.

They continued their conversation until finally she’d finished off her own plate, and they each paid for their tab, walking out onto the sidewalk together.

“Well, it was really nice enjoying a meal beside you that had no expectations of romance, Rafael,” she said, sliding on her gloves.

“Yes it was,” he replied, not wanting to part quite yet. “Would it be acceptable to ask you if you would care to walk beside me with absolutely no expectations of romance?” he asked hopefully.

She smiled at him, a wide genuine smile that he wished to see every day, as often as he could.

“I think that would be acceptable yes,” she answered and he offer her his arm, a gesture of habit. “Ah ah…that’s romance,” she warned playfully.

“So we take a romantic walk in the freezing cold on Valentine’s Day. So what? At least you can be sure I won’t be reciting a sonnet,” he replied, smirking. She laughed, taking his arm and letting him lead her towards Central Park.

#rafael barba #law and order svu #svu imagines #barba imagine #fluffy

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