#𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✧˚ · .

[asimplearchivist]

𝓕𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓚𝓲𝓼𝓼

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐗𝐗𝐕

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ there was no possible way that you could have romantic feelings for steven. right? pairing(s) ☽ steven grant/reader-centric | constellations!verse word count ☾ 4.1k a/n ☽ ⤏ my sixth entry for the moon knight bingo hosted by @juneknight and @spacecowboyhotch over at @moonknight-events. I will eventually crosspost this to the main fic for constellations on ao3 when it will best fit the chronological progression of the chapters. this takes place post-chapter ii. ⤏ trying to resist the urge to tell myself this is repetitive. had to cut it off there or else it would’ve been way too long. ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ PREVIOUS ENTRY ⤎ ☥ ⤏ NEXT ENTRY [TBA] ☽

You’re going to give us an ulcer if you keep this up—and I, for one, do not want to have to chug that wretched pink shit for the next few weeks.

“Hush,” Steven muttered, glancing towards the window next to him to level his host with a dark glare, but he was distracted by the skewed angle of the lapel lying haphazardly across his clavicle. He frowned in concentration as he readjusted it and smoothed it back down to rights with a clammy, trembling palm. “You’re not helpin’.”

Marc’s brow was furrowed, arms folded tightly over his chest, appearing rather dour to be mirroring the pressed, brightly patterned shirt and light slacks he’d talked Steven into wearing—Marc’s canvas jacket suited the look as well as the stormy weather, although Steven’s insistence on wearing his favorite dress shoes was the one concession that the alter was unwilling to sacrifice.

Marc had argued with him for nearly ten minutes not to wear the suit coat for just a quick bite before returning to the flat, and Steven had only relented once he’d realized that you’d still be wearing your casual clothes since he was picking you up from work. He knew that you liked to dress up, too, if he made the effort to do so, and that you grew a little self-conscious if you looked ‘frumpy’ (although, in his opinion, you never looked anything short of stunning—even with dust smudged on your cheek from the shop’s prolific collection of old books, espresso splattered all across your sleeves, or ink smeared on your hands after your long days spent working and studying), so he’d sooner invest in your comfort than to preen at your expense.

…Not that he was trying to preen or anything. You just made him feel like the biggest catch this side of the Thames, for once in his life—and while he would never willingly admit it, Steven liked the idea of showing off a bit for you. His nerves and insecurities still got the best of him every now and again, but most of the time your adoring gaze and easy smiles served an invaluable salve for his fretful tendencies.

He liked to look nice for you—liked the way you’d give him that lingering once-over out of the corner of your eye like you didn’t think he’d notice it. Depending on the colors he wore, he could elicit varying intensities of a reaction; the studious side of him was fascinated with how soft shades of blue kept your gaze trained on the contrast of the collar and his neck, whereas deeper jewel tones of crimson and juniper drew your stare further up to his unkempt curls and eyes. Trim slacks and khakis caused lingering glances towards his legs and posterior, if he happened to have his back turned to you. If he took off his coat, you’d peek at the silhouettes of his arms and shoulders under the pressed cotton. If his sleeves ever happened to be rolled up, you blatantly and openly gawked at the muscles flexing in his forearms and the articulation of tendons in his hands—that flustered him more than anything else.

You weren’t shy about telling him that you found him attractive, either. Although he was still growing accustomed to your consistent sprinkling of compliments—each as sincere, as meaningful, and as thoughtful as the last—he appreciated your earnesty beyond any thanks he could express with simple words. He stood taller in your presence, didn’t stoop or hunch to make himself appear smaller; he didn’t stutter as much, and he spoke with confidence and ease even when launching into his infamous tangents and drawing skeptical glances from strangers; he even found it getting easier, over time, to flirt with you in return, learning that you grew flustered when he gave you half-lidded looks or shivered when he lowered his voice into a murmur near your ear (although he wouldn’t have noticed the subtle, subconscious changes in his behavior had Marc not remarked upon them).

He felt comfortable with you—attractive and valuable and wanted without deceit nor facetiousness—something he had never before experienced beyond his connection to Marc. To others, he was an overenthusiastic nuisance, or a negligible commodity at best, but to you he was important. You cared for him, wanted him to be happy, and never expected anything in return, save his honest companionship.

…But the boundaries for that had started to blur, hadn’t they? Ever since he and Marc had returned from Cairo, you and Steven had grown closer than ever before. With you given just short of full disclosure about his situation (although this was not for lack of faith in your reasonability, since Steven himself hadn’t been aware of all the details until relatively recently—and they would cross the bridge about telling you about their suited vigilante days when it became relevant, although he hoped it never would be), he no longer felt the urge to keep up appearances. He no longer had to fret about hiding the more cornering traits of his supposed sleeping disorder from you, since the true nature of his midnight meanderings had been discovered. He had no more secrets save those that no longer occupied his life at present, no more worries, because you saw and knew and understood most everything that encapsulated him.

That, inevitably, led to a rather blatant and ardent infatuation on his part, seeded by his initial attraction and long-standing friendship with you and germinated by your steadfastness and dedication even after their…episode—one extremely difficult to restrict, and one for which Marc had been teasing him relentlessly now that he had met you, too.

You really ought to tell her, you know, said the devil about whom he thought.

“Yeah, right,” Steven scoffed, tilting his head forward to scrutinize and pick at the layers of unruly curls parted along the side of his scalp with his fingers—they never did sit quite right, even when he made the effort to comb them while they were wet. Marc had wanted to plaster them back with gel to avoid the hassle altogether, but Steven had resolutely set his foot down—you adored their curls and Steven despised the sensation of the pomade on his scalp, so he would not stand to see Marc glue them down like he always did when he had the steering wheel. “Sure, I’d love to put myself out there to be rejected again. You know how bloody well that went the last time I had a date.”

That was my fault. Marc owned up to it, at least. But it won’t happen again.

“You don’t know that,” Steven told him, hushed and tense. “I could just…she’s said we’re mates, yeah? But she could think we’re just mates.”

The way she looks at you? Yeah, totally platonic, Marc remarked, rolling his eyes. You’re her ‘bestest friend in the whole wide world’ and she just so happens to want to climb you like a tree when you ramble about regicide in Ancient Egypt of all things.

Steven’s face prickled with heat as he glared at his host. “How would you know, huh?”

Marc tipped his head forward and raised a knowing brow. The bastard had the gall to smirk at him.

Steven scowled. He could point out how utterly insufferable his host had acted around Layla, awkward and ignorant like a teenager as far as reading her as he had been, but he wouldn’t stoop so low…for now. (As long as he didn’t continue to take the piss out of him, that is.) “Oh, Mister ‘I’ve-Been-Married-A-Grand-Total-of-Once’ is suddenly an expert on the art of interpretin’ female attraction! I’m sure you’ve just got the entire situation nailed down like a psychoanalysis, yeah?”

Give me ten minutes to let me direct the conversation and I can tell you all of her—

“No! No, thank you,” Steven blurted, dragging a hand over his eyes and nose to clasp over his mouth. If his face had grown any hotter in the handful of awkwardly silent seconds that followed that particular statement, Steven was certain that it would have been capable of spontaneous combustion. He floundered for a moment, mouth opening and shutting in search of a response, while Marc started chuckling, but he was saved by the bell, so to speak.

“Hey, darlin’!” you chirped through the doorway as it cracked open and you slipped out of the coffee shop. “I didn’t realize you were here at first, but Amy saw you in the window. You could’ve texted me, you know—I hate that you stood out here in the cold.”

“Oh, I haven’t been here long,” Steven assured you, turning to offer to take your purse. You allowed him to hold it while you shrugged on your coat and wrapped the scarf he’d recently gifted you around your neck. “Where would you like to eat tonight, love?”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d let me try my hand at something new tonight,” you started, then hesitated. “If that’s, uh, okay. I’d have to run into the store to grab some groceries, so if you’d rather wait for another night we can. I completely understand if it’s too late for that.”

And refuse your feats of culinary masterpieces? He thought bloody not. “That would be wonderful, as long as you’re not too terribly knackered to stand over the stove,” Steven said brightly. “I can help.”

Your smile was dazzling even under the unflattering whine of the fluorescent street lamp. “Thank you. I think you’ll like this one.”

“As if I’ve ever disliked anythin’ you’ve cooked for me,” he scoffed in disbelief.

“Okay, sure, but I think you’ll really like this one,” you amended, slinging your purse over your shoulder and grabbing his arm to tug him towards the bus stop. “Come on.”

The ride was filled with idle chatter about each other’s days. Steven was still adjusting to working during the day shifts after his reemployment as a tour guide at the museum, and he somewhat missed sitting with you while you closed up the coffee shop already—but it had given him the opportunity to tidy up the flat and to clean up before returning to the block to fetch you. You’d been tasked with reorganizing the used classical and poetry section, so you’d spent the better part of your day elbow-deep in dusty old books. (Steven was having a very difficult time resisting the urge to snuff the biblichor lingering on your scalp—there was nothing better than the combination of your signature perfume and books to him.) An older man had walked up on you to ask you a question and it had startled you—you’d barely stopped a whole row from toppling down on you since you’d been standing on a stepstool at the time. He’d apologized profusely, but you said that the image of you teetering on that rickety old hunk of metal was probably the funniest thing you’d pictured yourself doing in a long time.

“But you’re not hurt, right?” Steven pressed, brow furrowed.

“No, I’m good,” you answered, nudging him in the side with your elbow. “I’ve got a thick skull—you ought to know that by now, darlin’.”

The stop in the general store was, true to your word, a quick one. He recognized some of the ingredients, but he had no idea how you were going to combine them all into something undeniably delicious. By the time you both got to his flat, you were cutting up and he was laughing a bit louder than what was appropriate close to midnight.

“Here, I’ll get started,” you told him as you unloaded the sacks on the kitchen counter, “why don’t you go pick something to put on for background noise?”

“Sure thing, love,” he responded, turning to do just that. When he came back, you were in the middle of warming oil in a saucepan while dicing some vegetables. “What can I do?”

“I’d kill for some of that lemonade we made the other day if you have any left over,” you commented. “But you could help me get this chopped up. I’ll need the emulsifier. It’s just a simple soup I thought was interesting—I haven’t used sundried tomatoes before. It reminds me of a pasta sauce I’ve seen before, but this is more like a tomato soup than anything.”

“Sounds divine,” Steven told you, stooping over into the fridge to pull out the pitcher in question. He’d left enough for two more servings. “Will you want a grilled cheese?”

“No, I’m okay.” You bumped your hip into his as thanks when he set a glass within your reach, the ice clinking against the glass. “I’m kind of beat, honestly, so if I can get this down before I pass out, I’ll be lucky.”

“I washed your spare clothes if you’d like to go shower while I watch the pot,” he offered. “They’re on top of the dresser.”

“I may take you up on that offer,” you admitted. “Can you dice these tomatoes?”

It, perhaps, should have been a little worrisome how easily he fell into such a domestic routine with you. Even if Marc suspected you had feelings for him that weren’t strictly platonic, Steven wondered whether your natural exuberance was causing him to misread your behavior. But it was in the moments that you intentionally brushed against him when such contact could’ve been avoided, displaying your comfort so loudly without saying a word, that he dared to let that little flicker of hope breathe itself to life. You seemed committed to keeping some form of contact with him at all times, your hands touching his arms or sides as you orbited him like his own personal little moon. You only spoke in that low, inexplicably soothing tone.

Steven watched the pan while you retreated to the bathroom. You reemerged with damp, shiny hair and dewy, softly-scented skin, and it was even harder for him not to catch a whiff as you floated around him grabbing cutlery and bowls and napkins like you had the layout of his flat memorized. You even put the kettle on without him even having to ask, setting out a mug and a teabag for him to fix how he preferred it.

After blitzing the vegetables together and adding a bit of coconut cream to smooth it out, your dish was completed and smelled utterly divine topped with fresh basil. You both ended up settled shoulder-to-shoulder on the couch in front of the television, slurping spoonfuls and idly commenting on the film he’d chosen. It was cozy and calm and exactly what he needed after having a class of rowdy six-graders that had seemed interested in anything but what he’d had to say during their field trip for which he’d been tasked to provide a tour that morning (he should have suspected something was remiss when the teacher’s name had popped up on the itinerary and all the other guides had—quite brightly and appraisingly—suggested he take it; it was a marvel to him, really, that the school could miss the fact that she had utilized the opportunity to be paid to scroll on her phone while he was forced to wrangle the feral children supposedly under her care).

That was exactly the tale he regaled when you asked him, midway through the movie during a lull in the plot, if anything interesting had happened to him that day. You looked rightly disgruntled on his behalf, huffing that he was far too nice to tolerate that sort of negligence and that you would have set her in her place had you been there. He’d gently, if amusedly, informed you that it had somewhat worked out in the end—with no small (nor well-hidden) amount of satisfaction, he told you that his obligation to supervise them all had ended upon delivering the troop to the gift shop at the end of the tour…where Donna had been stuck on shift yet again (since so few people applied for the position due to its low wages combined with the high turnover rate as a result of her nasty behavior and poor management style…but Steven wasn’t normally one to gloat over such things; you, however, had been utterly delighted to hear it).

“At least that bitch got some of what she deserves,” you said, tipping your chin up and glaring down the end of your nose at the screen. “I hope she regrets every last negative word she said to you now that she has to pick up all the shit she dumped on you.”

“It doesn’t matter in the long run, love,” he reminded you, although his chuckle was difficult to smother. It did give him some satisfaction to see it, else he’d have been made a liar to suggest otherwise…but just a little bit. “I don’t answer to her anymore.”

“Good, or else I might’ve felt the need to cut a bitch,” you grumbled.

Steven jumped slightly as Marc’s low, huffing laugh caught him off guard. He glanced over at one of the mirrors he’d mounted on the available space of a nearby bookshelf, and his host’s moody, brooding eyes were twinkling with equal parts mirth and mischief. He didn’t say a word, as he tended to give the front a wide berth when Steven was having personal time with you, but the weight of his presence was a reassuring one. His host lifted his brows and glanced pointedly in your direction, tipping his head towards you for emphasis.

Steven cast him a dark glare. Marc had been teasing him for a week now about finally making a move in the most cliché and inane manner possible, but Steven was resolute that it was not ideal. He respected you highly and didn’t want to give you a poor experience that might smother any chances he had of winning over your good graces. Your ex had been the pushy sort, and he wanted to be anything but. It was simply unfortunate that his and Marc’s individual approaches to romance were vastly contrary.

“Let’s not add ‘murder’ to your long, impressive list of accomplishments, yeah?” Steven proposed mildly, watching you glance up at him with a smirk and glittering eyes of your own.

“Fine,” you sighed, resting your temple briefly on his shoulder. “If you insist.”

“I do,” he nodded. “Wouldn’t be very good if you wind up in prison defending somebody like me.”

“You ought to know by now that there’s not a whole lot I wouldn’t do for you, Steven,” you responded, rolling your eyes, but there was something couched in your tone that piqued his attention.

He blinked, then glanced towards the mirror again, but Marc was gone. So much for his bloody help regarding women.

“You do know that, right?” you prompted a little quieter, and when he looked over, you were gazing up at him through your lashes out of your periphery.

Steven relaxed as that familiar warm, fuzzy feeling unfurling within his chest like the blooming of a flower in the morning. “I do,” he returned softly. “And I hope you know that sentiment is mutual.”

You stared at him, then, head turning little by little until your full, beseeching gaze was fixed on him. His heart pounded raucously against his ribs as he became acutely aware of your hand slipping over to squeeze his knee gently—he was shocked you couldn’t hear it, because it was loud enough he very nearly didn’t hear your next words. “…Can I kiss you?”

He swallowed roughly, a reflexive action that caused him to jump. His hand, shaky and clammy, settled over yours, his fingers slotting alongside your own. He licked his lips, sucked in a breath that rattled in his lungs, and managed a jerky nod. “Yeah,” he croaked. “Please?”

Your free hand cupped his chin, fingertips tracing along his jawline with undeserved reverence before settling his cheek into the cradle of your palm, and he stooped slightly to save your neck as you lifted your chin to meet him halfway. He blinked, startled, as your lips—soft and smooth—chastely met the corner of his mouth. The split-second confused thought of you missing was promptly erased when you tilted your head and repeated the motion to the opposite side, lingering just a tad bit longer there.

Oh. Oh.

He clamped his eyelids shut.

The featherdown flutter of your doe-like lashes tickling the arch of his cheek as you kissed him proper, gentle and slow and tender, skyrocketed his pulse. He wondered idly, somewhere in the back of his muddled mind, if he was in any danger of having cardiac arrest at this rate. Heat flooded his face like wildfire, sweat springing up along his hairline as he reached out to touch you, too.

His trembling fingers made contact with the side of your neck, first, and to his inexplicable delight and relief he could feel your heartbeat racing alongside your throat, too. He curled his hand around your nape, thumb stroking the tender skin beneath the shell of your ear as an indescribable, high-pitched whine escaped you. He cracked an eye open to watch your expression cringe with embarrassment, but you made up for it by sliding your fingers into his curls to tug his head into a deeper angle. A gutted, broken groan bubbled out of the pit of his chest before he could stop it.

You began to litter his lips with quick, light pecks, and never before had Steven quite felt cherished. You pulled back just a hair’s breadth to catch your breath. “You have…no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“I can hazard a guess,” he mumbled, pulling you back in, “‘cause you’re in the same boat as I am.”

You let out a needy, desperate little noise that lanced down his spine. Steven Grant had never considered himself a selfish person by any stretch of the imagination, but he was quite certain at that moment that if he didn’t hear it again immediately he would die.

Oxygen became a hazy concept, but even the most ardent and devoted of adorators required it. When you broke away to suck in a lungful, Steven dared to look at you. You were dazed, eyes hazy and lips puffy, but the way you glowed in the dim lighting was like nothing he’d ever envisioned in all his studies of art. And you were staring at him as though he had hung each and every last individual star in the sky.

“I was so scared you wouldn’t feel the same,” you murmured, “but I couldn’t hold it anymore.”

“I never wanted to assume,” he added quietly. “I was fine with being mates, but I always wondered…I didn’t want to pressure you, after…I just wanted you to feel comfortable if…”

“I know,” you interrupted him mercifully, leaning back in. “I know. Thank you for being patient.”

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you,” he mumbled into your mouth, too enchanted to shut off his stream of consciousness, “but it never felt right, and I didn’t want to lose my only friend—my best friend—yet it was absolute torture not knowing—”

“I didn’t know if I could bear to make myself vulnerable to be hurt again,” you returned, shifting to kiss along his cheek, “and I had to work myself up to take the risk. You’re all I’ve got left anymore. Maybe I’m selfish to want more than what we have, but God, Steven, I want you so bad, I can hardly stand it.”

The lump in the pit of his throat nearly choked him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder, arms coiling around you and holding you tightly against his chest. “I do, too,” he breathed. “Like I need air.”

You returned the hug with a ferocity he hadn’t felt from you before. You were shaking, too, and it soothed him to know that the nerves were mutual, as well. For being very transparent people by nature, the both of you had managed a miracle of hiding your feelings from each other for so long.

“I need you to know that I can only do it if you’re all in,” you said, muffled by the material of his shirt. “My heart can’t take it otherwise.”

“You have all of me and more, poppet,” he told you, smothering his face into your scalp. “I swear to you I’ll do better than anyone else has or could. I’ll earn it, I promise. I can be worthy of you. I’ll sooner hurt myself than ever dream of hurting you.”

#fisara's codices #fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fluff #reader insert #steven grant #steven grant/reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant/you #steven grant x you #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fluff #moonknightevents

[pettydollie]

♡☆ chris sturniolo masterlist ♡.｡.:*

chris sturniolo

mini masterlists dad!au zach sang show singer!reader

thoughts [0-100 words] him dancing w u - wc: 78 do you still like me? - wc: 86 massages - wc: 44 why think when you can speak - wc: 45 trevor resting on ur stomach (preggo!reader) - wc: 39 goofies - wc: 78 doodling - wc: 66 fresh love photoshoot - wc: 93 bsf chris who hates ur bf chris running to u when he's abt to cry - wc: 84 reading to him :C - wc: 67 get away from me, baby! - wc: 84 chris' reposts (definition of "dont let them know your next move") - wc: 48 big belch - wc: 89 nick bagging chris’ girl drabbles [100-500 words] "my gf" summary: i think chris loves his gf take care - wc: 498 summary: tending to chris' wounds after a fight bruised - wc: 306 summary: you hit ur hand :( lowk inspired by that one scene in little women (2019) first date - wc: 475 summary: title - chris is just too cute you're all annoying - wc: 333 summary: clip from wednesday's (1/31) video unreal - wc: 440 summary: chris feels so unreal, you take it in as he lays next to you spit in my mouth! (vday special) - wc: 216 summary: playing 'try not to laugh at vday pickup lines with water in your mouth' boop 💋 - wc: 390 summary: chris loves betty boop so you decide to dress up as her as a little treat photography field - wc: 353 summary: making out with chris in a plains field lol giggly night - wc: 118 summary: chris makes you laugh in the middle of the night and he attempts to stifle your giggles but ultimately fails lol planning your future - wc: 292 summary: title skater!bf chris - wc: 290 summary: hanging out in an indoor parking lot how u met the triplets - wc: 210 summary: title (ft when u started liking chris) ur mad at him >:c (not really) - wc: 280 summary: you try to be mad at chris bcs u never are lol learning how to braid ur hair - wc: 161 summary: title and showing off ab it pussy - wc: 113 summary: nick and matt betting on your guys' relationship honey - wc: 349 summary: you get your wisdom teeth taken out and forget that chris is your boyfriend when he calls you 'honey' burgers - wc: 117 summary: chris makes delicious burgers thats all lol ditching chris for marylou <3 - wc: 113 summary: you were going to learn how to play fortnite but mary calls and you love her like a second mother so ofc u pick her soda?... - wc: 303 summary: shrek's three babies the triplets come into your room where you're taking a nap, asking if you wanna do the soda challenge for today's video. you dont even drink soda... feeding the ducks - wc: 306 summary: chris sturniolo is a stressed man, but he doesn't feel so when he watches you feed the duckies. kissing the tears away - wc: 112 summary: chris loving his little crybaby by kissing her tears all gone (and licking one)

oneshots [500-2k words] happy bday, cutie!! - wc: 651 summary: your friends and boyfriend surprise you c: reader on her period - wc: 654 summary: triplets are filming and ur hungry (ft a lizard mutant) crybaby - wc: 798 summary: this was such a random post anyways reader is a crybaby and gets really frustrated with bsf!chris- good girl - wc: 1.1k summary: crybaby&tutor!reader x whipped!chris bingo - wc: 522 summary: chris putting your little sister to bed boyfriend best friend - wc: 1.5k summary: your best friend chris doesn't understand boundaries, but neither do you. sometimes he feels more like a boyfriend than your actual bf. pretty please? (NSFW) - wc: 1.3k summary: you've been waiting for your boyfriend to come home all day. you're too impatient for him when he gets home.

fics ᴅᴀʏʟɪɢʜᴛ masterlist

headcanons bf headcanons singer!reader x chris gf with an oral fixation, more tall!gf short!gf long distance gf 'shy around others but comfy around him' gf

texts bf!chris

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x y/n #christopher sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #y/n #reader #masterlist #chris sturniolo masterlist #𝓬𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓸 #𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✧˚ · .

[satorudoll]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@/lov3rbody

I 𝓙𝓾𝓳𝓾𝓽𝓼𝓾 𝓚𝓪𝓲𝓼𝓮𝓷

II 𝓑𝓵𝓾𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓬𝓴

III 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓪𝔀 𝓶𝓪𝓷

IV 𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓢𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓮𝓻

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 *ೃ༄ #𝓵𝓸𝓿3𝓻𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱

[yuyinesque]

ᨓ ✮ ONE PIECE.

∞ ∞ ∞

ᨓ ✮ GENSHIN IMPACT.

∞ endurance | albedo x afab!reader; nsfw hc/drabble. ∞ dicknotic data | kabuki x male!black reader; nsfw drabble. ∞ heart of gold | buki/scara/wan; sfw brainrot. ∞

ᨓ ✮ HAIKYUU.

∞ blues and cockatoos | kenma x black!fem reader; sfw os. ∞ bra… wires!? | haikyuu x reader; sfw texts. ∞

ᨓ ✮ JUJUSTU KAISEN.

∞ cursed speech | black!inumaki; sfw brainrot. ∞ rubenesque | toji fushiguro x chubby!fem; nsfw hcs. ∞

ᨓ ✮ SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE.

∞ LEE AND LOVIE | hobie x black!fem reader; sfw drabble. ∞ ∞

ᨓ ✮ ORIGINAL CHARACTERS.

∞ maneki-neko | catboy oc profile information. ∞ ∞

ᨓ ✮ MISCELLANEOUS.

∞ womaneater | yandere!misogynist x afab!reader; nsfw hcs. ∞ ∞

yuyinesque | translate with permission & peruse without theft.

#ᖭི༏ᖫ 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 #ᖭི༏ᖫ 𝓲𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓻’𝓼 𝓷𝓪𝓿𝓲 #masterlist #mlist #anime masterlist #yandere x reader #jjk x reader #genshin impact x reader #one piece x reader #haikyuu x reader #spiderman x reader #oc x reader #oc x oc #black owned

[koishiro]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓸 𝒥𝒥𝒦 𝒻𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃𝓉 — CLOSED

— 𝐽𝑢𝑗𝑢𝑡𝑠𝑢 𝐾𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 10/10

hi! thank you so much for 500 followers!! In celebration, I’m hosting this fluff/comedy event. It’s my favourite genre, so there’s no escaping it . . .

After I receive 10 requests, I’ll be closing the event. Better request as fast as you can!!

To send in a request, choose a character and one or two prompts from the list below. Feel free to add any other details as well! (The more detailed the better <3)

Manga spoilers + au’s are welcome

Examples: “suguru geto with dialogue prompt 1”, “toji fushiguro with situation 5”, or “megumi fushiguro with dialogue 3 and situation 4 in enemy!au” (anything like that)

Please note that I might take my time writing but I will get to you as soon as I can!

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓈

megumi fushiguro

yuji itadori

gojo satoru

nanami kento

maki zenin

yuta okkotsu

toji fushiguro

nobara kugisaki

toge inumaki

suguru geto

𝒟𝒾𝒶𝓁ℴℊ𝓊ℯ 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓉𝓈

1. “Look I love you and all but you’re about as useful as a knitted condom right now”

2. “we’re not just friends and you fucking know it”

3. “This is manhandling! I’m revoking your feminist card!”

4. “I’m conscious of the fact that you’re a guy! Does this make me a weirdo?! No! You’re the one with the penis!”

5. “apparently everyone has a bet going that we’ll get together”

6. “You’re about as smooth as crunchy peanut butter”

7. “You make the sky look pretty”

8. “You wanna mess with the likes of me?! I’ve got a cracking voice, I’m practically pubescent!”

9. “you’re in love with them”

10. “You can’t tell but I’m winking at you”

11. “how much of that did you hear?”

12. “You couldn’t connect to someone even if they had a usb port!”

13. “I’m (name), I’m (age) and I sucked your dad’s dick just to get a taste of what you’re made of”

14. “You can be my daddy!” “What and leave you like your last one did?”

15. “I’ve loved you for years”

16. “I-…um, can I hold your hand?”

17. “Your cuteness is making everyone stare. Stop it”

18. “I’m bad at texting first, so I always end up hoping you will”

19. “I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater”

20. “No, mom, don’t tell them I said that about them!”

𝒮𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓉𝓈

1. enemies to lovers

2. secret admirer

3. shy x confident

4. shy x shy

5. your own personal prompt <3

𝒜𝓊 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓉𝓈

1. soulmate au

2. college au

3. bodyguard au

4. CEO/boss au

5. coffee shop au

6. doctor au

7. teacher au

© KOISHIRO 2023 do not repost/edit/copy/plagiarise/ translate my works.

#‧₊˚🖇️ #𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽! #𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒸𝒶𝓀ℯ 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝒹𝒾ℴ! 🍰🧁 #500 𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻! #𝑲𝑶𝑰’𝑺 500 𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻! #koi’s cake shop!! #˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝒋𝒖𝒋𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒖 𝒌𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒏 #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #masterlist

[klttn]

⁺˳✧༚ ˚ 𝓴𝓵𝓽𝓽𝓷’𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓻 ｡⋆୨୧˚

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑒 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ﾟ。dolly. 19. she/her. nsfw. dni dog haters.

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 & 𝑔𝓊𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈

<3 my bf. my dog. pink. hazbin hotel. being cute at the gym. sanrio. dilfs. milfs. overwatch. pokémon. music. bows and ribbons.

<\3 being called mommy. absolute wankers.

@b4by9irl for all the horniness you could imagine

@f43rie for all my agere n littleness

#mine ♡ #about me <3 #◛⑅·˚ ༘ 𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽 #⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ୨୧˚ #⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼 ୨୧˚

[chuluoyi]

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓮, 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓮 !

a little (and unexpected) valentines’ special from me to you !

genre. all fluff !! with a dash of crack

notes. so, i promised myself i won't do any valentine's special since my 1k event isn't even done yet *sobs* but this totally impulsive thing i came up within half an hour just persists, and i'm very known for impulsivity so :') if i'm going to be honest, i won't be able to finish this even after february ends, so please bear with me too 🫣

⋆𐙚 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒐 ! — gojo satoru ꒰ love entries | entry year: 2006—2009 ꒱

valentine's is around the corner and word has it that you're going on a date with geto...? no way! gojo is going to make sure that you're saying no! ever wonder how gojo finally gets you to become his? be prepared for a confession of a lifetime!

𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 — geto suguru ꒰ in the same universe as love entries ꒱

your crush seems both close and faraway at the same time. one second, you heard he's going on a date with another girl... but then he's asking you out?! oh, so this is what it feels like to have a valentine!

𝒊 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 — fushiguro megumi

your first valentine's together should be an event to remember... except that your boyfriend is stuck in a mission! but little do you know that he's doing his best not to let you down ♡

𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆 — gojo satoru ꒰ love entries | entry year: 2010—2017 ꒱

years pass, but one thing that's constant is how annoyingly your husband is in love with you. with the new school year comes a fresh batch of first years, and gojo is determined to make you look at his way—he's way better than those youngsters, and he's going to show you just that!

© CHULUOYI. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works in any platforms.

#chu’s masterlist

[gentlyweeps-world]

𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 𝓯1

max verstappen

: ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

lewis hamilton

: ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

charles leclerc

: ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

carlos sainz

: ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

lando norris

: ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

fernando alonso

: ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

lance stroll

: ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

esteban ocon

: ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

pierre gasly

: ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

alex albon

: ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

logan sargeant

: ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

yuki tsunoda

: ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

other

sarge + piastri

: ̗̀➛ loscar

: ̗̀➛ always with you

lewis + carlos

silver or red : ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

lando + logan

the “brits” : ̗̀➛ 𝓃𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

#formula one #logan sargeant #formula 1 #forumla 1 #williams f1 #williams racing #logan sargeant x reader #alex albon #lando norris #charles leclerc x reader #charles lecrelc #max verstappen x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #f1 fic #f1 wags #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #max verstappen #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader

[harryspet]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

bambi eyes In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues. (dd/lg)

yours to tame  In which the Moon Goddess cruelly picks Rafe Cameron to be your soulmate. (werewolf!au) 

drabbles

dark!rafe + noncon + mouth fingering + face f*cking

dark!gymbro!rafe + noncon

dark!rafe + noncon + doggystyle

dark!rafe + implied kidnpping + playing with rafe's hands

soft!dark!rafe + implied kidnapping + dd/lg

#dark fic #rafe cameron masterlist #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x black!reader #outer banks #outer banks smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #dark!rafe cameron #obx fic

[mistydeyes]

𝓶𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓷 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓯𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼

𝓂𝓌 𝒾𝒾 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁

💌 if you want to peek at all of my writings

S E R I E S

"your prescription is ready for pick-up" - 141 x pharmacist!reader❤️

all of my works and our pharmacist reader

a panacea - 141 meets the cure to all their ailments

141 medical file - what the pharmacist sees when looking at 141′s files, accompanies “a panacea”

medically included dream - after a heroic action lands you on an operating table, your morphine drip has you experiencing some interesting dreams

sick day visit - you prided yourself on never getting sick but the day has finally come. as you’re resting in your quarters, a certain group pays you a visit :)

there is no cure for jealousy - what happens when a new recruit gets a little to flirtatious with the 141's favorite pharmacist?

first line treatments - before the sick days, counseling, and lunches together, you were only known as the newest pharmacist on base

pharmacist hcs!

keep your weapons hot and bodies hotter (18+) - stripper!141 x fem!reader (codename: Phoenix)❤️

hunk-o-mania 141 edition - feast your eyes on Delilah's Den's newest male dancers

playboy bunny phoenix edition - an unforeseen guest complicates the mission, now you have to get ready to act as the distraction on stage

the joys of civilian life - 141 x civilian!fem!reader

opposite occupations❤️ - while on leave, the boys each meet a civilian that makes their time deployed and defending their country worth it

take a walk in my shoes - the boys are home again! unfortunately, their significant other has to work but that doesn't mean they won't spend every moment in their presence

extra! the almost military wives gc - what the gf's talk about when the 141 isn't home

"the glance is often deceptive, not the nose" - 141, los vaqueros, könig, graves, laswell x reader what fragrances i think the boys would like on a significant other

part i (141 + alejandro)

part ii (rudy, könig, graves, laswell)

dancing with the enemy - 141 x undercover!fem!reader 141 is playing with fire when you are revealed to be an undercover enemy that's out to get them

family moments - 141 x fem!reader

little moments and little voices - precious moments you spend in your home with your husband and children :)

oh, darling, don’t you ever grow up - your husband leaves this world too early and now you have to pick up the pieces with your children

secrets and pointed fingers (requested!)❤️ - simon "ghost" riley

behind locked doors - when the 141 thinks you're the mole, they make sure to extract the information in whatever way possible

hollow apologies and avoiding glances - when you return back to base, everything is far from normal

half empty glasses and unchanging perspectives - you try to run away from the trauma at the pub but with a glass in hand, simon finds you

suppressed feelings of hatred - despite the 141 being gone from your sight, you still cannot cope with the past

miss americana - 141 x reader small relationship moments between the 141 and their american significant other

kyle "gaz" garrick edition

simon “ghost” riley edition

O N E - S H O T S

eyes for the stars - 141 x reader "hey siri, what do i do if my partner has a crush on a celebrity?" uh oh, see what happens when the boys get a little jealous of your celeb crush!

odd hobbies - 141 x reader everyone has their own hobbies, yours are just unique to 141’s perspective

have a drink - platonic! 141, los vaqueros x reader (codename: Brandy) everyone needs a break sometimes and you decide to treat the 141 and los vaqueros with your bartending skills

butterfly effect❤️ - 141 x fem!reader they say "a butterfly flaps its wings in the amazonian jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of europe." what once was a silly quote now has implications as one action leads to your death.

opposite of a meet cute❤️ - 141 x civilian!reader most people have a cute story as to how they met their significant other but yours is a little more eccentric

cold coffee and sloppy notes❤️ - 141 x student!reader the 141 helps you through the nuances of student life

V I S U A L S + R A N D O M

matching tattoos - 141 x reader what matching tattoos would you and the 141 get together?

high thoughts - you enjoy your time in amsterdam a little too well and make sure everyone knows it

bachelorettes parties and weddings - 141 x fem!fiancee!reader what would your bachelorette party and wedding be with the 141?

random things in pockets and bags❤️ SERIES - what does the 141 carry on them when they’re on leave?

pt i- kyle “gaz” garrick

pt ii - simon "ghost" riley

pt iii - johnny "soap" mactavish

pt iv - john price

P R O J E C T S

you are a work of fiction - 141 x reader what literary heroes would the 141 be

in a past life - it’s said everyone reincarnates after death, what life did the mw2 characters have before their current one?

E X P L A I N S my series of explaining the various timeline's of the games and characters

simon "ghost" riley's backstory

which modern warfare game should i play first?

𝓈𝒾𝓂𝑜𝓃 "𝑔𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉" 𝓇𝒾𝓁𝑒𝓎

"your prescription is ready for pick-up" - ghost x pharmacist!reader

fake hypochondriac (sequel to “a panacea”) - ghost goes to extreme lengths to see his favorite pharmacist

tuberose and rose tinted glasses - ghost meets a perfumer in grasse, france - the capital of fragrance

simon riley’s backstory (a request) - simon’s tragic backstory with his family

r e q u e s t s 

a scarlet red dress - ghost x oc! ghost and riot share an intimate moment, all started when riot decides to dig out a red dress from her closet

ghost’s doppelgänger❤️ - 141, los vaqueros x fem!reader how does the 141 and los vaqueros react to you joining the team? their reactions are even better when you share an uncanny resemblance with ghost

an invasion of the scots❤️ - ghost x fem!reader worlds collide when you visit the base and you realize your dating the teammate of your cousin, johnny mactavish

tamer of dogs and ghost- ghost x fem!reader ghost has fallen in love with you, the army’s resident veterinarian and dog handler

a fiery love story - ghost x gn!reader simon thinks he has everything under control but it's actually you and your secret ability to control fire 

brazilian heat - ghost x fem!reader when the 141 finds themselves in brazil, you make a lasting impression on simon in a bar

a child's eye of the tiger - ghost x fem!reader simon comes home just in time to see your daughter kick ass at a jiu jitsu competition!

𝒿𝑜𝒽𝓃 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒸𝑒

"your prescription is ready for pick-up" - price x pharmacist!reader

pain-killer fueled thoughts (sequel to “a panacea”) - price landed himself in the medic tent and his pain killers are making him tell the pharmacist his feelings.

𝒿𝑜𝒽𝓃𝓃𝓎 "𝓈𝑜𝒶𝓅" 𝓂𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒶𝓋𝒾𝓈𝒽

undercover and undiscovered feelings - soap x fem!reader it's bad enough your mission puts you under the spotlight, now you have to deal with your feelings for the scotsman too?

𝓀𝓎𝓁𝑒 "𝑔𝒶𝓏" 𝑔𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒾𝒸𝓀

choose your flowers, carefully - gaz x childhood love!reader

faint whispers of flowers SERIES - as you bundled the wild array of periwinkles, daffodils, yellow tulips, marigolds, zinnias, and phlox, you couldn’t help but think how something so beautiful can also has its own language.

follow gaz and his childhood friend through life as they tell you their story with flowers.

part I - periwinkles and daffodils

part II - yellow tulips

part III - marigolds and zinnias

part IV - phlox

extra content

building blocks and alphabet letters - gaz x fem!reader (established relationship) you never would’ve thought you would be married and have a daughter with the boy who was eating toy blocks in daycare. but here you are, reassuring your toddler that going to school isn’t the end of the world.

an undercover beach episode - gaz x fem!reader (codename: genesis) you're always paired with gaz for undercover missions but this time your uniform is a pair of bathing suits

r e q u e s t s

modern day nightingale - gaz x gn!nurse!reader an injury lands gaz in your care but despite the unfortunate meeting, you find yourself in a budding relationship. however this isn’t a fairytale romance and ends when he’s discharged without a word :(

dumb and in love - gaz x gn!civ!reader kyle may be the smartest one on the field, he’s a little dense when it comes to realizing you’re in love with him

we're the widows - kyle "gaz" garrick x reader kyle's secret girlfriend has an undercover alias: the major of a secret task force of women soldiers  

𝒶𝓁𝑒𝒿𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓇𝑜 𝓋𝒶𝓇𝑔𝒶𝓈

just the way you look tonight WIP - alejandro x afab!reader everyone thought you and alejandro would be married by now but alas you still don’t have a ring on your finger. however, after attending simon’s wedding, something changes for alejandro.

𝓅𝒽𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓅 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓈

graves headcanons - phillip graves is two things 1. an asshole and 2. very american, here's some headcanons for this problematic man

r e q u e s t s

graves returns - graves x fem!reader you thought your husband was dead but now he's at your apartment after you were suppose to be off-the-grid

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓈

medication mixup - 141 x reader the medic unknowingly prescribing you a penicillin has disastrous results due to your allergy

141’s dossier❤️ - see what the dossiers laswell gets at the end of mw 2019 looks like! + template

the scene life - 141 x fem!scene!reader with your eccentric style and love for raves, you show the 141 a peek into your life

running mascara PART I and PART II❤️ - 141 x fem!reader harsh words are said and you try your best to run away from the cause. however, everyone needs to face the issue eventually and now the 141 is left to pick up the pieces. initially part of my 1k celebration but i added a sequel as it was highly requested!

horror movie protagonist - 141, könig x gn!platonic!reader a common hazing ritual is to watch a gruesome horror movie but the 141 is a little put off when you watch it with a smile on your face

vidcon but uk edition - 141 x reader what would your life be with the 141 if you were a YouTuber?

tamer of dogs and men❤️ - simon "ghost" riley x vet!reader simon finds his heart in the army's vet captain

cabin fever - simon "ghost" riley x reader after a mission goes wrong, you and ghost are left to find warmth in a snowed out cabin

science and pheromones - simon "ghost" riley x male!reader the bunsen burner isn't the only thing that's heating up when you and ghost, your body guard, are left alone in the lab

a spice girl extra - 141 x reader when you show up at the pub, the boys are surprised at your choice of attire. it's like you walked out of the 2000's or something! PT II - when you take the boys to the club

an artist’s touch - 141 x platonic!reader how does the 141 react to you being an artist in your free time?

last name: riley❤️ - 141 (except ghost) x fem!reader flirtations and chaos ensues when you arrive on base and the 141 realizes your ghost’s cousin!

the final girl trope - 141 x gn!reader you have a past you keep hidden but once it comes to the surface, you entertain the 141 with your own horror movie plot

shutting down the patriarchy❤️ - 141 x gn!fem!reader after a long day, all you want to do is unwind but when two certain sergeants get in the way, you’re sure to shut them up

migraines and forehead kisses - 141 x fem!reader the 141 is willing to do the most for you when you come down with your frequent migraines

fear of small things - 141 x platonic!reader despite being a badass soldier, you have one enemy: insects

fit for a magazine cover - 141 x fem!reader all the eyes and cameras are on you when you walk the victoria secret fashion show runway

she's a rich girl - 141 x fem!reader you love to spoil the 141 and show them the more extravagant things in life

small bundle of fluff and joy❤️ - 141 x platonic!reader the 141 meets your tiny, furry companion

teratogenic injury❤️ - 141 x platonic!fem!reader when an injury takes you out, you're surprised to hear that you can no longer have children. the 141 is more surprised when you tell them it's a blessing in disguise

hacking with a grey hat - 141 x platonic!reader the 141 is at odds when they meet one of the most infamous hackers to date

a double life - 141 x fem!reader what happens when the 141 becomes a bit more patriotic in dating their CIA secret agent significant other?

mw2 x reader - my ongoing series of pairing y'all up and writing a short lil blurb about how you met and your relationship

P R O J E C T S

#masterlist #tag list #mw2 #cod mwii

[pettydollie]

chris sturniolo x reader *zach sang* masterlist

bc i already know im gonna make a bunch of posts about these.

chris (meaning like chris being on the show by himself) our future. - wc: 156 summary: chris knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with you can't be without her - wc: 37 summary: he can't last without u for more than 2 weeks golden x golden - wc: 103 summary: chris defines your relationship as two golden retrievers and talks abt u being a little ball of energy

yn not at all, zach - wc: 53 summary: yn's asked if she thinks chris changed after gaining popularity music (singer!reader) - wc: 85 summary: singer yn is asked about chris releasing music.. she mentions how they're already in the process of making songs first kiss - wc: 124 summary: you talk about the moment you first kissed chris

nick their type of love - wc: 79 summary: nick is asked if he has a type. he just wants to be loved like you and chris love each other. that's all.

#𝓬𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓸 #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✧˚ · .

[yuyinesque]

LAND OF ICHOR | refreshments will be provided generously for you. would you prefer some ambrosial wine or sweet apple juice? the abundance is endless, angelite, so enjoy.

RECENT BESTOWAL | heart of gold — buki/scara/wan sfw brainrot.

ten commandments. seraphic alms. divine retribution. deified individuals. ichor's zealots. house of ichor.

yuyinesque | translate with permission & peruse without theft.

#₍ ˃̵͈᷄ . ˂̵͈᷅ ₎ 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮! #ᖭི༏ᖫ 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 #divider creds : iwonbin #art creds : ramb.d on ig #better in dark mode! #masterlist #navigation #oc x reader #y/n x character #black y/n #black oc #jjk x reader #spider man x reader #haikyuu x reader #one piece x reader #genshin x reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #x black plus size reader #x black male reader #x black oc #x black y/n #black owned

[koishiro]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓸 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 — 𝒥𝒥𝒦

prompt list | upcoming works | latest event post

event genre. fluff, crack??, au’s

,, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕,, Megumi fushiguro

“apparently everyone has a bet going that we’ll get together” + “I’ve loved you for years”

↳ rumours circulating around Jujutsu High cause hidden feelings to surface

#𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽! #𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒸𝒶𝓀ℯ 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝒹𝒾ℴ! 🍰🧁 #koi’s cake shop!! #500 𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻! #𝑲𝑶𝑰’𝑺 500 𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻!

[klttn]

𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝓱𝓪𝔃𝓫𝓲𝓷 𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓵

𝒶𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇

the murder of the moth man ➼ cannibal cuties headcanons

𝒽𝓊𝓈𝓀

—

𝓁𝓊𝒸𝒾𝒻𝑒𝓇

satin and silk ➼ the king and queens little secret(ary)

𝓁𝓊𝓉𝑒

—

𝓋𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑜

—

𝓋𝑜𝓍

—

read my 𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼 and send 𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼

1:11 ───|────── 3:33

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

#mine ♡ #⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ୨୧˚

[asimplearchivist]

‘ 𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓮 . ’

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ steven, unbeknownst to him, meets the love of his life at one of its lowest points. pairing(s) ☽ steven grant/reader word count ☾ 15.7k a/n ☽ [gif credit] ⤏ aka my personal love letter to one steven grant (and myself, because I want to be loved like I love just once). ⤏ i am going to be completely honest on this one, guys: this is a borderline self-insert fic that is 100% self-indulgent on my part bc i have felt like shit the last two months and want to treat myself. ⤏ i kept it as a reader-insert because a) some people (including myself) enjoy experiencing different ‘pov’s of reader-inserts, per se; b) it’s easier to be kinder to and romanticize myself when it’s ‘not me’; and c) i feel that it’s still vague/inclusive enough to be counted as a general reader-insert versus labeling it strictly as a self-insert/original character. i really only describe personality traits and the reader being petite, really (bc nothing comforts my 5’0” ass more than knowing i would actually be able to kiss the boys without craning my neck all the way back tbh). i use a few southern colloquialisms, too, just fyi. :) ⤏ typical moon knight fanfic disclaimer: I don’t claim to know very much about did beyond what I’ve gleaned from both the show, the various meta posts I’ve read on tumblr, and from other fanfics themselves, so please forgive and correct me on any glaring discrepancies/issues I may have presented here (or link me any posts that discuss more accurate representations of did, perhaps—that’d be greatly appreciated). some of the terminology/technicalities escape me. I tried my best to get their voices and characterizations just right, and I sincerely hope I succeeded bc they’re very special to me. ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ ☥ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER ☽

The first time Steven met you, it was strictly by happenstance.

He had always considered himself a man with many friends. Although his routine was relatively simple compared to other Londoners who thrived in social settings and spent all of their free time anywhere but home to mingle and chase tail, he had familiar faces he saw frequently. He committed their names to memory when they’d give them off-handedly, he made a point to speak to them in passing even if he or they were otherwise occupied, and he kept a mental list composed of all the details he was able to glean strictly from observation when they didn’t readily volunteer the information.

Perhaps it was a little silly. All lot of them had trouble remembering him, sure, but he couldn’t hold it against them—tons of people had trouble keeping track of faces and people. Sure, JB never quite got his name right even after Steven had worked at the museum for a couple of months by now, but he was a busy man monitoring the security cameras all day long and stayed distracted (with his infatuation with otters, no less—as endearing of a trait as any for someone with a secret soft side). Donna stayed in a tizzy, always worked up over something beyond her control (Steven couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be dealing with the higher-ups trying to meet goals and attempting to exceed them). He didn’t really dislike them for it, even if it had grown rather grating as of late. (Even if it would only take them both a moment to look at his conveniently given and placed nametag.)

Crowley didn’t talk much, all part of the gig, so Steven didn’t hold their one-sided conversations against him, either. The gentleman with the broom cart (whose name Steven never had managed to catch, as gruff as he was) seemed only to ever respond with grunts. The security guards, the tour guides, the usual suspects on the morning and night bus rides…Steven interacted with them all, and they had enough good graces to acknowledge it most of the time.

Over time, however, as his dreams (or perhaps more aptly named nightmares) grew more vivid and more bizarre, as he seemed to lose track of time more and more (how exactly does one manage to miss an entire weekend when one isn’t a blackout drunk?), and as Steven’s anxiety led him into taking more and more precautions to make sure his self-diagnosed sleepwalking disorder didn’t strand him on the other side of London (again), it became more readily apparent that those people with whom he took such care to converse did not seem particularly inclined to return the favor. Sure, he’d accidentally nodded off a few times leaning on the other passengers in the morning bus, ran a little late at times getting to the museum (much to Donna’s ever-increasing ire), and maybe got a little carried away with his nattering when he got invested in something he was excited to share information about, but…would it really kill someone just to respond long enough to reassure him that he wasn’t virtually invisible?

It was one such morning after he overslept, convinced he was late, and worked himself into a right and proper state trying to get to the museum on time that he realized that it was, in fact, Sunday, not Saturday. Much to his bewilderment but proven by his phone, the museum stood barren and closed, doors locked and lights off. He stood at the entrance staring at his dumbfounded expression in the glass for a good five minutes, thoughts racing as he tried to recall anything about the previous day. There was no way he slept an entire day, right? He hadn’t been staying up too late trying to manage his disorder, even if he had been running a little tired lately.

His distress was punctuated by a fat, chilly droplet landing right on his nose. The early spring weather was unseasonably cold this year, leading to an abnormally wet season (as if rain could ever be abnormal in London, but the meteorologists remained convinced), and within seconds of Steven turning and trotting down the steps the skies parted and released their torrential downpour as if just to spite him specifically. Everyone else in the immediate vicinity, if they weren’t holed up in their cars or the myriad establishments bordering the museum district, already had their umbrellas up to shield themselves from the frigid onslaught, ambling along and circumnavigating the puddles lingering from the storm the night before..

Steven shrank into his coat, tugging the collar up and over his head as best he could as he crossed the street and aimed for the first building he saw with its neon, ivory OPEN sign glowing against the gloom—on the corner directly across from the museum entrance. The door was heavy, the handle cold enough he was surprised his palm didn’t stick to it, but he managed to pry it open and tumble inside.

A few people glanced up from their tables to give him a range of skeptical to humored looks before going about their business. Steven hedged to the side of the door in case someone else came in, dripping onto the old hardwood with no small amount of regret.

It was a coffee shop. Comfortingly warm against his numb face, he basked in the scents of espresso and sweets permeating the place. His attention was caught by the bookshelves on the wall to his right, and he was entranced—all until a barista slipped out from the kitchen and addressed him with a croon. “Oh, goodness, look like the weather caught you!”

Steven almost accidentally ignored you thinking that you were talking to someone else (for so rarely did someone speak to him in a tone that wasn’t irritated or dismissive). After his cursory glance in your direction, he did a double-take, realizing you were looking right at him.

“Yeah, I—looked at the forecast wrong, methinks!” he responded sheepishly (and he had—he’d been expecting Saturday’s overcast mist, not Sunday’s shower). “I’m makin’ a right mess, aren’t I? I should probably go before I warp the stain—”

“No! No, just wait a second.” You raised a placating palm before dipping below sight behind the counter. You emerged and rounded the corner next to the display case holding a towel, walking right up to him and offering it to him with a sympathetic smile. “I can’t count the number of times I thought I could beat Mother Nature,” you joked. “It sucks that it’s been so cold on top of it. I’m surprised I haven’t gotten sick.”

Steven accepted it graciously, muttering his earnest thanks as he went about mopping up his sopping curls. Once he’d wiped all the rain he could off of him, he handed it back to you. “Hope I don’t get one, neither,” he responded. “It just wouldn’t do to catch cold in the middle of all this, would it? No.”

You chuckled a bit, eyes glittering with mirth. “Maybe it’ll help if I get you something hot to drink?”

Steven glanced at the menu hanging on the wall behind the counter, eyes rounding a little at the prices. He’d overspent on books again after payday, so he was having to be a bit more frugal this week than usual. “Oh, no, don’t go to the trouble, I’ll just call a cab and get a ride home before it gets too bad.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” you assured him, wringing the towel between your hands. You hesitated only a heartbeat before you leaned in a little closer, smile turning a bit bashful. “I’ll make it on the house, how’s that sound?”

Steven normally considered himself one to give where charity was concerned, but he had to admit that the sound of something warm on his urgently empty stomach was divine at the moment. He cleared his throat, glancing towards the other customers still wrapped up in their own little worlds. “No, I couldn’t—wouldn’t want anyone jealous that they’re not gettin’ the special treatment, you know.”

“It can be our little secret,” you offered quietly, winking conspiratorially at him.

He blinked, heat creeping up into his face. “Oh, well. If you insist, then…just this once?”

“All right.” Your smile lit up your entire face, and you headed back behind the counter to deposit the towel in an unseen hamper.

Steven followed, training his eyes on the menu—the standard fare was reasonable, with alternative options for dietary restrictions. A lot of the custom concoctions did seem lovely, and he was a tad surprised to discover that they served breakfast and lunch, also—with vegan options, most notably. “Wow, I never even knew this place existed. I must’ve been walkin’ right by it this whole time.”

“Do you work at the museum?” you inquired, folding your arms over the counter and propping your chin up in your palm.

“I do, actually,” he beamed, though it was dashed a tad with his next confession. “I want to be a tour guide one day—you know, I’ve been studyin’ up for it and all—but they’ve got me in the gift shop. For now! They said they’d move me up with a new position becomes available.” They said that they would consider him for the role, but Steven clung to his hope that they’d soon realize how bloody good he’d be at it, as hard as he’d been working for it for so long.

“You always have to start somewhere,” you replied warmly. You gestured to the shop around you. “This is just to hold me over ‘til I’m finished up.”

“Are you a transfer student?” Steven asked.

Your brow rose slightly, but your smile didn’t waver. “How observant. Most people ask me how I got lost on this side of the pond.”

“It isn’t often I see Americans anywhere but in the more touristy spots,” he agreed, “but the university is quite prestigious. You must be very academically successful if you landed a transfer scholarship like that.”

“It took a lot of work,” you admitted, “but it’s been worth it. I never thought I’d do anything like this, and I would’ve laughed at you a couple of years ago if you’d told me I’d move this far away from home. I’ve never really been the traveling type, but I’m so grateful that I’ve had the opportunity to do so.”

“What are you studyin’?” Steven inquired. An English major, perhaps—you struck him as the literary type with your articulation, despite your soft, southern drawl.

“Oh.” Your face darkened and you fiddled with the hem of your sweatshirt—dark gray, warm flannel, with a silver astronomical design embroidered into the front. “Well. I went to a university back home and got a degree in writing—” Nailed it! “—but I was notified at graduation that I qualified for this so I thought why not? It’s a bit self-indulgent, really, as I’ve always been a history nut, but I’m, um…” You reached up and scratched the nape of your neck, glancing away as though embarrassed. “...focusing on Egyptology?”

Steven’s brows shot halfway up his forehead. “No kiddin’!”

“Nope,” you confessed, a bit sheepish. “I picked up a book with pictures of King Tutankhamun’s treasures when I was three and I’ve been in love with it since. Maybe it’s a little niche, but it makes me happy—I’m taking other history classes, too, so I’ll end up with an Ancient History major with a minor in Egyptology—that’s just my main focus since I always wanted to be an Egyptologist when I was little. I don’t know that I could ever stand the heat, though, so I’m happy with writing in the comfort of my own home.”

“No, that’s great!” he raved, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m a bit of a history buff meself! The museum has a huge Egyptology exhibit coming up next month, so I’ve been brushin’ up on it all. You know, in case I get to audition.”

“Oh, yeah?” you tried, emerging from your shell just a bit. “Do you have a favorite period?”

“New Kingdom, definitely,” he said immediately. His heart was thrumming, and he was trying (in vain) to contain at least the majority of his enthusiasm. “There’s just so much material to go through. All the texts recovered from Deir el-Medina fascinate me to no end!”

“Yeah, Paneb was a right bastard,” you joked. “He had the whole town stirred up all the time. But we’re not going to talk about Ea-Nasir.”

“Oh, yeah—imagine keepin’ all your hate mail for posterity,” he returned, strumming his fingers against the inside of his sleeves. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m an Old Kingdom gal,” you said with a chuckle. “Pepi II’s letter about the pygmy won me over. Not to mention all the drama with Teti’s assassination. The workmen’s village at Giza? Oh, how could I pick one thing?”

Finally! Finally, it felt like Steven was talking to someone that spoke his language!

“It’s really hard to, isn’t it?” His stomach was starting to grumble. He cleared his throat, tamping down his anticipation just enough to concentrate on the matter at hand. He glanced up at the menu again, a little remiss with some of the unfamiliar choices—most of those displayed were coffee, but he’d been trying to curb himself off of it in favor of cutting out caffeine altogether for a better sleep schedule. “I, um…sorry, got a little sidetracked there. What would you recommend that’s decaf?”

“Oh, I love chai,” you told him. “Most of the teas we carry are decaf, though we do have decaf coffee, too. We’ve got all the usuals like chamomile, mint, Earl Grey…” You tilted your head slightly. “I’ve been avoiding caffeine since I was a teenager—it makes me antsy.”

“How do you normally take your chai?” he queried, curious.

“As an iced latte,” you said. “Cold foam, cinnamon, whole milk. I like it warm, too, especially this time of year, but there’s something about it iced that I can’t seem to part from—maybe that’s the southern upbringing in me.” You gestured to the equipment behind you. “Would you like to try it?”

“Yeah, sure! But with oat milk, please?”

“You’ve got it, darlin’,” you beamed, and set to work immediately. “I usually drink a small since it’s a bit sweet, that okay?”

“Certainly.”

Never would Steven have thought that he’d find such a deeply kindred soul a stone’s throw away from his workplace he’d never even noticed before today. He had to confess that he was charmed by you almost instantly. It had been a while since he’d met someone so engaging and open—not to mention generous and drop-dead gorgeous to boot! Ironic, really, that the foreigner was treating him more kindly than his native kinsmen. What did the Americans say about southern hospitality?

“Thank you so much,” he said when you returned with the cup and set it in front of him. “It looks great!”

“Go ahead and try it,” you suggested, “and if you don’t like it, I’ll replace it for you with something else.”

Steven had absolutely no intention of telling you to your face that he disliked your favorite beverage, even if he did decide it wasn’t to his taste—much less make you go out of your way to make him another free drink. But as he sipped the heady, sweet mixture the spices melted over his tongue. Despite being served cold, the flavors warmed his mouth and settled cozily into his belly.

“Oh,” he suspired, licking the foam from his lips, “that’s lovely. You’ve won a convert.”

Your smile was nearly blinding with delight. “I’m glad! It’s not for everyone, certainly, but those who do like it always seem to love it. No in between, I guess.”

Steven resisted the urge to suck the entire thing down, folding it between his hands instead as he committed more details of your appearance to memory. Your black apron was a bit big for your frame, dwarfing you a bit, but your sweatshirt did, too—your jeans were well-fitted but not snug. You were wearing very little makeup, just a touch around the eyes, but it emphasized your lashes like a fawn’s. While comfortable, if a bit plain, your ensemble made you seem like the epitome of homey.

“How long have you lived in London?” he asked after another delightful sip.

“Since the start of spring semester,” you said. “It was a big adjustment to show up at the tail end of winter, but I think I’ve gotten the hang of it now for the most part. I still get lost occasionally, but that’s why Google Maps was invented. I’d be up a creek without a paddle without it.” You leaned against the counter again, bracing yourself on the stained surface and gazing up at him as if there existed no other person in the world. “I live right next to the campus, but I work here to get away even though my scholarships carry most of my bills and fees. Ironic, though, ‘cause I don’t exactly consider myself a socialite.”

“You’ve fooled me,” he said with a chuckle. “Bit odd bein’ an ambivert, yeah?”

“I really only talk a lot when I get excited or when I’m with people I’m comfortable being around,” you confessed shyly. “I’ve been told I talk too much about stuff nobody really cares about, so I try not to bother anyone.”

“Now who on earth would have gone and told you that?” he pressed, heart aching all the while. How many times had he been told the very same thing, sometimes with less polite wording?

“Oh, not exactly like that,” you rectified in a hurry, “it’s just…you can tell, you know? When someone isn’t really paying attention to anything you’re saying. I usually get interrupted anyway, so sometimes I find it easier just to keep quiet.” Your skin darkened again, and cleared your throat as you dipped your face to conceal it with a hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I went into all that. See? Rambling too much—words got away from me.”

It was like looking into a mirror—so much so that Steven almost felt a bit of deja-vu.

“No, don’t be sorry,” he said softly. “I understand completely—really, I do. Better than you might think.”

You raised your gaze back up to him, and he understood at once why the philosophers and poets both waxed so romantic on the concept of windows to the soul. He could see your tenderness, your diffidence, your sincerity all there in your jewel-like eyes.

“People talkin’ over you all the time,” he continued with a low murmur, looking down at the cup when the intensity of your stare grew too much—just like looking directly into the sun, “actin’ like you’re invisible or somethin’. Gets frustratin’, yeah? Couldn’t even bother to act like you’re there, could they? No. Seems like too much to ask.”

“Yeah,” you said somberly, but when Steven dared a glance up at you, your expression was one of complete understanding. Never before had he felt so seen. “It doesn’t help when you’re really not a people person to begin with.”

And now that Steven considered it more deeply, he realized that you were right—why did he prefer to stay home rather than go out? Keeping company with a goldfish certainly wasn’t an extrovert’s definition of a good time. Hell, the only reason he really went out of his way to engage with those on the fringes of his daily routine was because he felt it was rude not to because of constant exposure, not because he was itching to have the conversations themselves. He worried constantly that he’d overshare or annoy people, when most wouldn’t even think of it.

He let out a soft laugh, pressing a palm across his forehead.

You quirked a brow, your expression perking up just a bit at the sound. “What?”

“I just realized I’m not really a people person, either,” he said, shaking his head. “Thought all this time everyone else was just awkward at social interaction.”

“Oh,” you chuckled, and there was that ephemeral sparkle of mirth back in your eyes. “Well. Better late than never, right?”

“Right.” He paused, then set the drink on the counter to fish around in his pocket for his wallet. “Here, since you’ve been an absolute angel—”

“Oh, no, please,” you said, waving your palms at him in an attempt to dissuade him, “it was my pleasure. Finding someone else as big of a nerd about Ancient Egypt was tip enough, thank you. You’ve made my whole day.”

And even though his morning thus far had been an utter disaster, Steven believed that you had made his entire day, too.

“Well, all right.” He pointed a finger at you with a wry, toothy grin. “But next time you won’t be able to talk me out of it.”

“Next time?” you echoed, and the unadulterated hope in your eyes made his heart clench.

“Yeah,” he said, “where else will I be able to order the ambrosia of the gods? And nerd out about ancient civilizations? Not all baristas carry a double-edged sword like you do.”

You bit your lip, rolled the hem of your sleeve between your fingertips, and looked down and away. “Oh, stop it. It’s really just a hobby.” You gave him another cheeky smile. “But, if it would make a difference to you, since you seem the type…” You leaned in across the counter, and Steven found himself copying the action as though you had magnetized him. “...there’s a bookstore upstairs, too.”

Oh, bloody Nora, as if you weren’t already perfect enough.

Read the rest of the chapter here! :)

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