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kentocee · 2 months

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Just Ask • Nanami x Fem!reader • (18+)

CW: smut (servicedom!nanami, needy!reader, use of good girl and petnames, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, aftercare)

Cee’s Note: Based on this post 🌝 been meaning to start writing for this man and finally gained the motivation. Hope y’all enjoy 🤭

[minors do NOT interact; explicit content ahead]

Nanami was a patient man.

He knew it was only a matter of time before you were practically begging for him to take you right then and there.

But until you say it, he remained still.

No matter how subtle you try to be when you bend slightly in front of him, exposing your thick ass covered in his favorite lace panties. No matter the bedroom eyes you give him whenever he steals a glance at you. No matter how slightly your fingertips brush against his shoulders as you walk by him.

He wouldn’t give in to your temptation.

You could say he was merely a gentleman unlike other beastly men that lacked self control. It’s clear you want him as badly as he wants you, but there’s something about those words falling from your lips that he craves to hear.

Your whiny voice pleading for him was so pleasing to him. The desperation oozing off your tongue, begging for him to give you what you wanted was all he needed.

“Please,” your voice barely above a whisper, clinging to his muscular chest, looking up at him with your perfect doe eyes.

You were so precious to him, how could he not give you whatever you desired. Hell, he would give you the world if he could.

Even if he wanted nothing more than to pound your pretty little pussy with all his might, he wanted to hear you say it.

“Please what, princess?” he said, lips hovered just above your lips, not letting them touch.

“Please fuck me, Nanami,” you whine.

As if a switch was flicked, his lips were on yours in a crushing kiss. His palm held the side of your jaw as his lips moved hungrily against yours.

The once calm and collected man was now practically tearing your silky nightgown from your body. Hands roaming all over you, he couldn’t get enough of how the soft fleshy skin felt under his touch. His lips attacked your neck, littering your skin with small bruises.

Nothing felt better than being able to have you like this. Slipping his thick finger inside your leaking cunt, he couldn’t get over how your warm walls welcomed him and gripped him so tightly..

“There you go baby,” Nanami watched the sight of your eyes rolling back as he pumped another finger inside you. A sense of pride fills him seeing just his fingers can cause such a reaction out of you.

“M-More Nanami,” your hands reached out to palm him through his slacks.

“Mm so greedy,” Nanami hummed, bringing his other hand to rub circles on your clit.

Such an insatiable little thing you were and Nanami couldn’t get enough of you. His mission was to please you and satisfy you even if it meant neglecting his own. He hissed as you rubbed him through his pants, his painful erection threatening to burst through the seems.

“Please…nghhh,” you purred, “Need your cock”

Your wish was his command and with that he removed his hand from your clit to free his thick cock and lined it to your folds. His ears perked up at the sharp gasp that fell from your lips as he sank into your tight folds.

“Atta girl,” Nanami groaned, “taking me in so well”

His thrusts were steady and slow, stretching your pretty little pussy to take him deeper until he completely bottomed out inside you.

“This what you wanted, my love?” Nanami knew the answer before it could slip from your tongue, but he needed to hear it once more.

“Fuck me harder”

Nanami could finally let go and release all his pent up urges. He slammed his hips against yours causing you to cry out in pleasure. His pace was sporadic as he pounded into you with all his might, the grip on your hips tightening by the second.

Your fingertips claw and grip his back as he continued to abuse your cunt, kissing your cervix with each thrust.

Nanami could feel himself reaching his edge but he wouldn’t dare cum until you have. He reached down, rubbing your clit in attempt to get you there faster.

Your legs start to writhe as you feel your orgasm approaching. Between Nanami’s brutal pace and your clit being stimulated, it was all too much pleasure for you.

Broken moans spill from your lips as you reached your high while Nanami cooed praises of “good girl” and “that’s it baby” as you creamed all over his cock.

“Gonna fill you up nice and full,” Nanami grunted, before completely bottoming out, filling your hole with his cum.

The dazed look in your eyes and the fucked out expression that met his as he slowly pulled out and watched his essence ooze out of you, he swore he never saw something more beautiful. He loved you wholeheartedly especially in moments like this.

Where he can take care of your every need and worship your body after the deed had been done. Getting to caress you and kiss every inch of your skin he could reach. Showing you how much he loves you and he would do it every time.

All you had to do was just ask.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami fanfic #jujustsu kaisen smut

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loki-cees-all · 6 months

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Ch. 1 - Against the Wall {Against All Odds - TVA!Loki x Female Reader Longfic}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter

Pairing : TVA!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : The first interrogation of X-5 doesn’t go as planned, and Loki needs to blow off some steam. He returns to 1977 for a drink, and discovers that not only have his actions have left you abandoned by your date to his movie premiere - but it’s also your birthday.

Thankfully, Loki knows just how to solve both of your problems.

W/c : 4.4k words

Content Warnings : Smut, p-in-v, semi-public sex, strangers to lovers, ruffled tuxedo appreciation

Author's Note : This one is dedicated to my beloved and beautiful friend @infinitystoner as part of our Glorious Birthday Bash. Our ask boxes are open, so get those questions in!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

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Loki was absolutely seething. The Hunter X-5 - Brad, or whatever he wanted to be called, was not just uncooperative in answering their questions about General Dox’s plans - he was a complete asshole about it. And even though they knew he would be, it was still impressive just how quickly he managed to rattle all three of them and completely derail the interrogation.

It was enough to make Loki afraid that he was losing his touch, that his edges had softened too much. But after the catastrophic events he’d endured over the past few months, what else could he expect?

After leaving the interrogation room with Mobius and B-15, Loki had stormed away, his eyes blazing with fury and his fists clenching until his knuckles were white. He just needed a moment to calm himself down, to regain control of his emotions.

Truthfully, what he needed was a break, to relieve some tension and come back to his problems with a clear head. If only everything would just stop trying to implode for five minutes, he might be able to do that. But the weight of everything he needed to fix was slowly crushing him to death instead.

And that asshole thought it necessary to throw the death of Frigga in his face and call him a villain - all in the same breath. The audacity, the nerve of that man to speak to him like that - when genuinely, truthfully and in every sense of the word, Loki was only trying to fix, not harm.

Loki pushed himself further down the endless corridors of the TVA, and the anger radiating through his skin alerted the unassuming TVA employees to continue minding their own business as they slinked past him. Loki’s heavy footsteps echoed off the pristine floors and elegant walls, and he foolishly thought that maybe they’d take the hint and turn around to take a different path towards their destination. But just as soon as he would find himself alone in the hallway, another one would appear, and Loki’s rage would elevate just a little bit more.

Norns, was there nowhere to even think in this place?!

Soon, Loki found himself in another alcove with another elevator, that inevitably led to another floor with even more corridors and TVA employees who were just trying to do their jobs in the face of a Temporal Loom meltdown and total destruction. It wasn’t their fault; it was the only thing they knew how to do.

There had to be an exit around here somewhere - a courtyard, or a sidewalk, or something - any place Loki could go and not be reminded of all of this. But how long would it take him to find it?

Too long. And more likely than not, a new crisis would emerge before he could even reach it.

As he paced back and forth across the granite floor, Loki’s hands alternated between raking through his hair, clenching at his sides, and resting on his hips. His mind raced uncontrollably, and his chest heaved to keep enough oxygen mixing with the blood flowing through his veins. He was starting to feel trapped, doomed, cursed.

Loki took a deep breath to steady himself, and as he closed his eyes, his thoughts shifted to the beautiful woman he’d seen earlier that evening. Her stylish dress, pale amber and loosely cinched around her waist, had been far too enchanting to be wasted on a date to a silly movie premiere. She was much too good to be on Brad’s arm for the evening, and Loki wondered if he had even bothered to learn her name…

But ultimately, it didn’t matter. Loki didn’t have the time or the space to clear his head, and he certainly didn’t have the time to waste on thoughts of a woman he’d never see again. He was just going to have to carry on, to power through the stress and brain fog and dread, like he’d always done.

Resigning himself to return from where he came, Loki shoved his hands in the pockets of his pea coat and turned on his heels to head back to Mobius and B-15 and the interrogation of Brad. But he stopped as his fingers brushed against something, and his brow furrowed as he pulled the TemPad out of his pocket.

Loki couldn’t remember how or when it got there. He turned it over in his hands carefully, running his fingertips across its smooth edges and polished wood grain as he considered his options.

With this, he could easily find a place to think, and he could return just moments after he left the interrogation room. And with the branches of the Sacred Timeline already diverging wildly out of control, no one would ever know he had left.

Loki quickly glanced over his shoulders to make sure he was alone, and he flipped the top screen of the TemPad open. The previous coordinates were still typed in, still active.

All he had to do was press a single button and walk through the Time Door. In another moment or two, he could return to the Zaniac premiere and finally have the drink he so desperately needed.

And maybe Brad’s date would be willing to share that drink with him…

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Date : June 18th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]

This was not how you thought your birthday would turn out.

Dressed to the nines, after hours in the salon chair getting your hair done and days of planning your outfit down to the perfume kissing the insides of your wrists - all so you could be abandoned by that jackass before the showing of his film even started.

What made it worse was you didn’t even want to be here tonight, with this Brad Wolfe - a man no one had ever heard of before six months ago but was suddenly basking in the spotlight of directors clamoring to hire him and starlets begging to be seen with him.

You could have been out with your friends celebrating your birthday, but your agent had insisted that this would be much better for your career; he was definitely going to be getting a very unpleasant phone call in the morning.

After Brad disappeared, you sat yourself at the bar and ordered a drink; it was less humiliating than the press seeing you alone inside the theater, which would have surely been the only headline in tomorrow morning’s paper.

You briefly thought about calling your friends to meet up at The Roxy, which had been the initial plan for the evening, but ultimately decided against it. Nothing could salvage the evening now; maybe you’d have better luck next year.

The ice from your second drink had all but melted, and after the leftover contents were consumed, you were ready to get out of there. The exciting climax of the movie would be happening soon, and once again the lobby would be swarming with press and London’s finest celebrities, not to mention Brad - who had probably found another woman to have clinging to his arm during the film. You didn’t need to see that.

As you thanked the bartender with a warm smile and placed a generous tip in his jar, your thoughts returned to the two men Brad had been talking to just before he disappeared. One of the men, the older gentleman, seemed pleased as punch to be there, but the other one - the tall, dark and devastatingly handsome one - seemed like he’d rather be literally anywhere else; it was exactly how you felt about this ridiculous event.

And God was that scowl on his face sexy; but then again, everything about him was positively delicious. His piercing green eyes had threatened to set the room ablaze as he looked around the room, and when he wasn’t scowling, he was smirking.

It was a very confident smirk, and he deserved to have it. He certainly knew how to wear a tuxedo, and you were sure he looked even better underneath it.

Just thinking about it was enough to make your heart race, and the warmth of arousal was beginning to unfurl itself in your core. It was too bad the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen had left already; perhaps you would head to The Roxy after all, to find someone to take you home tonight…

“Leaving so soon?”

Your breath faltered as you turned to see him standing next to you. He looked exquisite - casually leaned against the bar, one ankle crossed over the other, and one hand in his pocket as he raised an inquisitive eyebrow in your direction. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that he had appeared so suddenly and he was looking right at you.

“I suppose that depends on whether something exciting is about to happen here,” you replied with a shrug and met his inquisitive expression with one of your own.

The man chuckled and cleared his throat as he turned his attention to the rows of liquor displayed behind the bar. “And I suppose you wouldn’t think helping me decide on a drink would be very exciting…”

His voice was smooth as silk - polished and refined, and it made everything he wasn’t saying so much more intense. You could see his eyes in the mirror behind the bar, hungrily roaming up and down your form as he paused, and you knew he was thinking about all the things he wanted to do tonight.

And when he turned back to look at you, it was like you were the only other person in existence, like you were the only thing that mattered. “…or would you find that exciting?”

That look was sinful, intoxicating, teasing. It made you forget all about wanting to get out of there before the movie ended. It made you want to do anything to keep his attention, and so you sat back down on the barstool and crossed your legs as you leaned closer to him.

“Surely a classy man such as yourself knows what he likes to drink?” you replied, hoping he enjoyed being teased as much as he enjoyed teasing.

The man laughed again and shook his head with a charming smile on his perfectly-crafted face. If you didn’t know any better, you would have believed a God had sculpted his features with a careful and delicate hand, that only something majestic could have styled the dark curls on his head. He was perfect, and you were dying for him to ruin you.

“Well, I’ll be honest - I just wanted to know what you were drinking, so I could invite you to have another with me.”

He didn’t wait for a response, and immediately unbuttoned the jacket of his tuxedo as he sat down next to you. His long legs were splayed wide as he gazed at you, and he had the kind of thighs you wanted to sink your teeth in.

The white shirt underneath the jacket was stark white and perfectly pressed, save the ruffles running vertically from his throat to his waist. There weren’t too many men that could pull off that look with the same confidence and charm, and you found yourself wondering who he was and what he did for a living.

He had to work in the entertainment industry - fashion, maybe? Another actor? You wanted to know everything about him, from where he grew up to how many different ways he could make your toes curl.

“What a clever, classy pick-up line. I’m truly impressed,” you murmured playfully as you beckoned the bartender over.

The man narrowed his eyes, and his perfect lips curved into a teasing smirk. “I believe it worked, did it not?”

You shrugged innocently, bringing your fingertips to fondle the necklace dangling around your neck. His gaze followed your fingers with a hungry expression, and he opened his mouth to say something else when the bartender interrupted to take your order.

“Yes, me and my new friend…” you paused and tilted your head at him, a silent plea for the man to finally introduce himself.

His expression shifted briefly to uncertainty, as if he wasn’t sure that he wanted to give you his name at all, before resuming his confident demeanor as he met your gaze once more. “Loki. Pleased to meet you.”

“A pair of Slow Screws for me and my new friend, Loki,” you smiled at the bartender before returning to your new companion for the evening. “That’s quite an interesting name, Loki. Scandinavian?”

“Something like that. And you’ve got quite an interesting drink order,” he replied, leaning closer and sliding his arm along the back of your chair. “Tell me - do you usually share Slow Screws with complete strangers?”

His voice was low and husky, vibrating at all the right frequencies and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. It took all of your willpower to not mount him on the spot.

“Only when it’s my birthday, and I’ve been abandoned by my jerk of a date,” you answered, though truthfully you were glad he disappeared if it meant you got to know this man a little better.

Loki’s brow twitched and he looked away; it was an odd reaction, one you hadn’t anticipated. Did Loki know something about why Brad had left, and was he not expecting you to bring it up?

The bartender returned with your drinks, and you were grateful for something else to focus on for the moment. Freshly-squeezed orange juice and gin swirled around the tall glass as you brought it to your lips and took a not-so dainty sip.

Loki glanced over and smiled as he followed suit, then set his glass down and began tapping the bar-top with his long and surely skilled fingers. “You know I, um…was speaking with your date earlier, and I promise he didn’t ditch you. Something very important had come up, and…”

Loki glanced over at you again, his green eyes sparkling as if a thousand distant worlds were burning up inside them. He had an unparalleled mysterious aura around him, like the weight of the entire world was resting on his broad shoulders.

“If he sent you here to keep me company in his stead…” you interrupted, brushing your fingers across the back of his hand as he tapped mindlessly on the bar-top. “…then I’m glad he left.”

That seemed to be enough to make him forget about all of his earlier troubles, and a confident smile graced his features once more. “Well, I couldn’t leave a beautiful woman all alone on her birthday, now could I?”

Loki rotated his hand underneath yours, and his fingertips lightly traced along your inner wrist, sending your heart rate skyrocketing. He leaned closer to whisper against your ear. “So how does the birthday girl want to celebrate then, hmm?”

Your breath hitched, and it felt like the rest of the world stopped except for the two of you. You wanted to spend your evening dissolving into pleasure, screaming his name, breaking your bed - but this man clearly loved innuendos and teasing; it was foreplay for him, just as much as it was for you.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to try…a Slow Comfortable Screw Against The Wall,” you answered softly, knowing he would understand that you didn’t necessarily mean the drink.

Loki’s arm slipped around your chair once more, dragging his knuckles down the back of your arm. “Is that how you like it?”

Your eyes widened, and your heart thudded painfully in your chest. But it was worth it if it meant he’d do it, so you nodded as you bit your lower lip.

“Slow…and comfortable?” Loki continued, whispering softly and letting his lips brush against the cartilage of your ear.

Swallowing back a moan was the hardest thing you’d ever done. Your thighs pressed together, squeezing them against your already wet cunt and nodded again.

“What about against the wall? Do you like that too?” Loki brought his other hand up, tracing the angle of your jaw with his fingertips and turning your face closer to his.

Your lips parted as your nose brushed against his, and you silently pleaded for mercy. Your pussy was already throbbing and clenching around nothing, and if you didn’t get out of here soon, you were going to explode.

A simple yes was all you could manage, and Loki immediately took action. He pulled a few bills from his pocket and tossed them on the bar as he stood up, and you absolutely could not believe your luck - that he came back, that he wanted you, that he was going to take you exactly the way you wanted.

You quickly followed him to standing, and your knees almost buckled underneath the weight of the adrenaline and hormones carving their way through your veins. Loki placed his hand on your lower back and guided you swiftly through the crowd that had returned after the movie’s end.

And you didn’t even turn your head as you passed by reporters milling about in the lobby, wondering where the hell Brad Wolfe was.

As you stepped outside, Loki’s hand slipped from your waist to grab your hand and pull you after him. You thought he was going to lead you to a cab, but instead, he turned down the alleyway beside the theater.

“Wait - where are we going?” you giggled in anticipation as he squeezed your hand. Did he have his own vehicle parked somewhere back here?

Loki turned around and yanked you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist as he continued backing down the alleyway. “I’m giving the Birthday Girl what she asked for. Remember?” he murmured against your lips as his hands splayed wide on your hips.

You couldn’t take the wait any longer and crushed your lips against his. Loki’s groan was deep and powerful as he eagerly returned the kiss. His lips tasted like gin and lust, and his hands gripped you tightly, pulling you all the way against his body.

Your hands found the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, pulling on the material as you parted your lips around his. He eagerly slipped his tongue between them as he started to walk you backwards.

Loki towered over you, even with your heels on, and soon his lips were moving down to your neck, sucking on the delicate skin as his hands slid down to squeeze your ass. You gasped, and immediately started to unbutton his tuxedo jacket.

He hummed an approval against your neck, and his hands grasped your ass harder, making you grind your hips against his. “I thought the Birthday Girl wanted it slow and comfortable, hmm?”

“Changed my mind,” you whispered breathlessly, opening the jacket and untucking his shirt from his pants. “I need you now…”

Loki grinned as he pushed you against the wall, trapping you between the firm, cold bricks and his firm, warm body. “Ah, so you’re an impatient Birthday Girl,” he growled against your lips.

This new tone, so wild and animalistic compared to the opulent and sophisticated one he had used back at the bar, was more than enough to make you forget that you were in public, that he was a stranger, that if anyone saw this then your career would be over. But you were being driven by pure lust at this point, and nothing else mattered anymore.

Your lips met again, moving frantically against each other as your tongues and hips writhed together. It was incredible that your bodies and minds were already so in sync with each other - when you moaned against his lips, he’d groan against yours, and when you gasped, he’d exhale in a deep hum that threatened to drive you insane.

He pulled the strap of your dress down as you untied the knot of his bowtie and began to loosen the buttons of his shirt. Loki kissed his way down your neck and you arched into his touch, even as your hair snagged on the bricks behind you.

You quickly slipped your arm out of the strap, and Loki slid the top of your dress down to your waist, exposing your breasts. Your nipples hardened from arousal and the cold evening air, and Loki leaned down to take one between his lips. You moaned out loud in response, encouraging him to keep going as you spread your legs to grind against his thigh.

His tongue flicked against your stiff nipple as he sucked, and your fingers curled tightly in his hair as you hooked a leg around his waist. Your hips gyrated wildly against him, soothing your aching clit as you chased a release.

“Oh, yes. Keep going, love,” Loki groaned against your skin and shifted his hands to keep you balanced on one leg, gripping your hips tightly as he brought his face back up to yours.

He pushed his leg further between yours, watching eagerly as you continued grinding against his thigh. You gasped and moaned breathlessly, each one louder than the last as the alleyway faded away and all that remained was the stranger bringing you ethereal levels of pleasure.

“Yes, that’s it. Come for me, dear,” Loki rasped as he brought his lips over to your ear, and his teeth nipped at the cartilage as he spoke. “I’ll give you more - as many as you wish…”

You could barely hear him as blood pumped frantically through every vein and every nerve ending prepared to fire off, but it seemed as though he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were. What a blessing this was - it was your birthday, and this man only wanted to make you come.

You gasped as your orgasm washed over you, sending endorphins and molten lava through your veins. Your fingers dug into his neck and shoulders, and your leg shook and wobbled as you died and reborn anew.

Loki moaned with you as you came, his hands grabbing your hips to keep them rolling against his thigh. Your eyes rolled back into your head and unintelligible whimpers of pleasure tumbled from your lips. And just as the orgasm started to fade, his hands slipped around the back of your thighs to lift you up.

Somehow you managed to lock your arms around his neck as he held you in the air, and he hooked his forearms underneath your knees as your bare back scraped against the brick. It hurt so good, and you buried your face in his hair, breathing in his scent and savoring the way he was going to ravage you.

Loki grabbed your ass as he rolled his hips against yours, both of you moaning in unison at the skin-to-skin contact. His heavy exhales washed over your skin as he panted against your jaw, and you were still trembling from the aftershocks of the first orgasm when his cock slid inside you.

He groaned in pleasure as he pushed deeper within your soaked cunt, and your toes curled inside your shoes. You hadn’t even seen his cock yet, but you could feel just how perfect it was, how perfect he was - and you couldn’t help but squeeze as he bottomed out inside you.

“Such a tight and lovely little thing,” Loki hissed as he started to thrust, slowly at first but quickly increasing his pace. His hips rocked back and forth, and your fingers scratched at his scalp to beg him to keep going.

He held you in the air, easily supporting your entire weight as he drove himself into you over and over. It was like magic, he was like a benevolent God of Pleasure, and you would forever worship the ground he walked on as long as he continued doing this to you.

You buried your face against his shoulder to muffle your cries of pleasure as he filled you up, and his lower back arched as his thrusts became frantic. You moaned his name and he moaned yours, and his fingers gripped you tightly as yours dug into his neck.

“Yes! Come for me, darling!” Loki growled against your ear as he adjusted your hips, pulling them away from the wall. His thrusts became urgent, and this new angle allowed him to move deeper, pressing against the most sensitive flesh that other men could only dream of reaching.

You crossed the threshold again, coming even harder than you did the first time. Loki grunted like an animal as he made his final pushes inside you before following you off the edge. Your thighs shook as his hips bucked, and your muscles squeezed every ounce of pleasure out of him.

The sounds he made were sinful, and it was almost enough to keep you going. Neither of you were on Earth anymore; floating in the cosmos, higher than you’d ever been before, your hips writhing and mouths gasping for air as you came together.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, but eventually your bodies became still, and you could feel his lips pressed lazily against your jaw and his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. “You have no idea…just how much…I needed that…” he murmured breathlessly.

You could feel the gravity of his words bringing you back down to the ground, and while you didn’t know what he was referring to, you wished that you could. “I’m glad you convinced me to stay for that drink then…”

Loki chuckled to himself as he pressed his forehead against yours and carefully pulled the strap of your dress back to your shoulder. His fingertips were delicate as they traced along your collarbone, and as his eyes traveled up to meet your gaze, you could see a thousand lifetimes of sadness hiding behind them.

“Thank you…for the drink, and the birthday present. Maybe we can do this again for your birthday…” you continued with a smile, hoping to be able to see him again soon. You didn’t know if he needed the reassurance, but you wanted to give it to him anyway.

He didn’t respond at first, and you gently caressed his cheek. This evening was too magical to not let it happen again, and you prayed that he felt the same.

Loki’s expression was one of anguish as he turned his head to kiss your palm. He let out a heavy exhale, and forced himself to look at you again.

“Yes. Maybe we can…” Loki smiled as he gazed into your eyes, and your heart ached as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter

Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚

454 notes · View notes

i-care-4u · 1 year

Note

more central cee pls !

FACE TO FACE | CENTRAL CEE

PAIR: CENTRAL CEE X READER

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED | MASTERLIST

TAGGED: @playboykenz

A/N: to the two anons that asked for more central cee, i hope you enjoy this little fic i wrote!

FACE TO FACE SERIES: jack harlow | central cee

as the cameras were getting ready, oakley couldn’t help but to giggle about the fact that his girlfriend was going to interview him.

this was something you loved doing with oakley at home. coming from work, you and oakley would be having long nights together, answering and giggling about each other’s answers. this time, the public was going to watch this, and oakley felt comfortable sharing his answers to them.

you introduced yourself to everyone, “hello gq, i’m y/n l/n, and today i’ll be asking a set of questions to central cee.”

in front of you, there was a laptop, with oakley being in front of your screen. you start the call, “hi cench.”

oakley blushed, “hi y/n.”

“today we get to share to everyone what we do at home,” you show the cameras the set of cards filled with questions, “the couple’s quiz!”

☆ FIRST QUESTION - “HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF IN THREE WORDS?”

“three words,” oakley starts saying words that came in mind, “focused, candid….”

you nod, using this as a sign to keep going. “come on, one more, one more!”

oakley immediately went back to thinking mode. you lay your head down, trying not to burst into laughter. you raised your head afterwards, “you want me to help you out?”

“of course,” oakley said, with a charming smile at you.

“cee.”

“yes?”

with a straight face, you admit, “i think you’re very cute.”

“focused, candid, and cute it is.”

☆ SECOND QUESTION - “FIVE ESSENTIALS?”

for this question, the staff brought in the items, and oakley removes his chain in order to showcase it to everyone. “obviously, we have to go with this one first.”

you tried not to brag, but you let it slide since you’re his girlfriend, “picked by the best.”

oakley nods in agreement, “mhm.”

he then showcased the watch on his wrist, “another one picked by y/n, and it’s this watch.”

he then explains three other objects: headphones, crackers, and a book.

“i have two headphones - one i use for the gym and the other during my spare time,” oakley pulled a bag of crackers close to the camera, “these crackers were gifted by my mum in christmas, they’re so delicious.”

he smiled as he showed everyone a book. the book was very special to him, as it was another gift - this time it was from you to him. “this book is gifted by y/n, and i love to carry it on the road. i still remember those words, telling me it’s a reminder of love.”

“it’s like you’re carrying a piece of me, you know?”

☆ THIRD QUESTION - “WHAT’S THE MOST ROMANTIC THING YOU’VE EVER DONE?”

sarcastically, oakley answered, “i’m a hopeless romantic…”

you jokingly glared at him, “really?”

“i don’t know man, i’m transitioning, i’m changing. this is all hard for me like i’m trying to think-”

“boo hoo,” you mocked, “it was so hard for you. why don’t you just grow up?”

oakley admits, “it’s easier said than done.”

☆ FOURTH QUESTION - “WHAT’S YOUR SELF CARE ROUTINE?”

oakley repeated the question, “my self care routine?”

you looked down at the card, “yes.”

“my self care routine consists of sleeping, waking up to do my skin care, going to the studio,” oakley gets into detail, “people don’t tend add that, but music is a form of self care. it’s enjoyable and arguably, a form of therapy.”

“i can see where you’re coming from, and i agree,” you comment, “music is universal.”

☆ FIFTH QUESTION - “FAVORITE LYRIC?”

oakley shrugs, “god knows.”

“i don’t know that one.”

“do you swear on the shore?” oakley asked you.

“yeah,” you nod, “shit.”

he laughs, and you added, “crumbs.”

oakley continued laughing at your nonsense, “what?”

you lied, “i swear all the time, okay?”

oakley knew it wasn’t true at all, leaving it with a simple response. “okay,” he shook his head, “it’s not that attractive though is it?”

as a joke, you tried to impress your boyfriend, slamming your hands on the table. “okay, i don’t swear!”

☆ SIXTH QUESTION - “WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE RED CARPET LOOK FROM ME?”

oakley leaned on the chair. “ooh, this is a tough one. am i allowed to say my favorite runway look?”

“nope.”

“just red carpet.”

“yes.” you got close to the webcam, and the only thing that showed up on oakley’s screen was your eyes and forehead. “…say it!”

he picked his top five looks of yours, “as of right now, i would have to go with your mtv video music awards from 2022, the met gala look from 2022, and last year and this year’s grammys look.

“and you got to thank law roach for the styling.” you start giving him a round of applause.

☆ SEVENTH QUESTION - “WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE CELEBRITY ENCOUNTER?”

oakley recounts, “apologies y/n, but i got to tell the funny one.”

you blankly stare at him, “the one where we met drake?”

“yes,” oakley smirked. he starts telling the story behind it, “so we went to this festival, and drake decided to invite us to the after party. during the party, he was on his phone scrolling on instagram, and that’s when he showed me a picture of y/n. he was like, who is this, she’s so pretty? that’s when i answered him, saying that it was y/n, who was right there. she didn’t say anything, but rather laughed about the whole situation.”

you add, “he was definitely drunk there, and he was surprised by my appearance at the party afterwards.”

☆ EIGTH QUESTION - “WHAT’S SOMETHING ABOUT ME THAT PEOPLE DON’T KNOW?”

“i think people should pay attention to what i’m about to say,” oakley exposes your hobby, “but y/n loves gardening.”

you playfully rolled your eyes at him, believing that it’s not that big of deal as he makes. “why are you making it such a big deal? leave me and my plants out of this!”

“i find it very cute though,” oakley visualizes, “walking outside to see you watering your plants. i can name some from the top of my head.”

you crossed your arms, having a smug look. “oh really?” you scoffed.

“yeah.”

oakley starts listing names of your plants, causing you to be left with a speechless face that was soon filled with laughter.

reflecting at this question, you also found it cute that oakley remembered your not-so-secret hobby of gardening. the way he remembered the names of your plants indicated his love language.

☆ NINTH QUESTION - “WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU WERE ME FOR A DAY?”

“what would y/n do?” oakley asked himself as you listened.

as soon as he came up with the idea, he shared it in front of everyone, “if i were you for a day, i think i would head down to the studio and try to make music.”

“smart,” you recall, “i’ve always wanted to make music for a long time, but i think we’re good as a model for now.”

“new date idea,” oakley states, “make music with y/n.”

“that sounds lovely.”

☆ TENTH QUESTION - “WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE TO EVERYONE RIGHT NOW?”

“this one’s a bit cliche but my thing is live yours,” oakley said, “that’s what’s inspiring innit.”

you agree to his piece of advice, “so basically express yourself?”

“correct.”

the tenth questioned marked the end of the interview and was left with one more scene to record.

the cameras starts recording oakley, “if you want to see me ask y/n these questions face to face, go to vogue.com.”

“thank you to gq for being involved in this conversation between central cee and i. thank you for watching!” you waved to the camera. the video cues to a white screen, placing the names of the people involved.

after the interview, oakley waited for you to exit the studio. when you saw him, you gave him a tight hug. “you were amazing!”

“thank you!” oakley smiled, “you know what sounds more amazing? bringing you to the studio right now.”

“you and your bad flirting skills,” you sarcastically rolled your eyes at him, “but a studio date sounds nice right now.”

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lawsvalentine · 1 year

Text

Why Him? • Sanji x Fem!reader • (18+)

CW: smut(oral sex (m and f receiving) LOTS of praise, vaginal sex), takes place post-timeskip, established relationship (reader x sanji), slight angst(good ending don’t worry), past reader x zoro(pre-timeskip), Sanji’s a bit insecure, Zoro is a bit messy

Cee’s Note: Soooo this was originally supposed to have been posted on Sanji’s bday but things came up so better late than never right???

Happy belated birthday Sanji 😁

Tags: @downforsanji (hope you enjoy 🤍) @sanjisblackasswife (how could I not tag you in this 🫶🏽)

*MDNI*

“Tell me it isn’t true?”

His voice was hoarse and desperate. His pleading eyes strained on yours as he awaited your answer.

Please say no

Fuck, please tell me that damn mosshead was lying

But from the look on your face, he already knew the answer.

Earlier, he had gotten into it with Zoro, bickering like usual, but things got intense once your name was brought up.

Sanji enjoyed flaunting his relationship with you in Zoro’s face, reveling in the fact that you chose him to be your lover and more importantly not Zoro.

Irritated from Sanji’s constant bragging, Zoro decided to knock him down a peg. He knew you would be pissed at him, considering you both swore you wouldn’t tell anybody about that night. But Sanji was pushing him over his limit.

As soon as the words left Zoro’s mouth, Sanji’s entire body ignited in flames…literally.

He grabbed Zoro by his collar, bringing him closer, his glare as fiery as his foot.

“YOU LYING BASTARD! Take it back! Take it back, damnit!” He spat, his knee already bent, ready to attack.

Zoro’s face remained unfazed by the blonde’s outburst, instead he smirked, amused how easily he got under his skin.

“Don’t believe me-“, Zoro’s eyebrow raised, before turning his head in your direction where you were currently helping Nami pick tangerines from her tangerine tree. “-Go and ask her yourself” he challenged before shoving Sanji off him.

Sanji gritted his teeth, the cigarette hanging from his lips snapping in half. Zoro snorted before turning on his heels in the direction of the crow’s nest, leaving sanji seething in his spot.

Damn him

He felt a pit in his stomach as he gazed at you from the bottom of the deck. His feet started to move before his mind, taking long strides towards you.

You felt a tap on your shoulder causing you to turn away from the tangerine tree and be faced with your lover. The smile you had fell once you saw how serious his face was.

“Y/N, we need to talk”

Sanji felt like his entire world was turned upside down. He saw sex with you as something so special and sacred to him. You allowed him to love and see all of you. To touch and feel your most private places. Allowed him to cherish and worship your body, making you feel all of him as you both made love. He felt honored to be the one you trust to go that far with.

But the thought of Zoro with you like that made him actually sick to his stomach.

Fuck

FUCK

“Sanji…”

No answer.

Sanji’s head remained down, his imagination running wild as thoughts of you and zoro consumed his mind, slowly driving him crazy.

“Sanji, look at me”, you said, bringing both your palms on each side of his cheeks lifting his face to look at you.

“This happened way before you and I even started dating”, you reassured, caressing his cheeks.”two years to be exact. I didn’t cheat on you.”

“I know, it’s not that” he said, eyes looking everywhere else but yours.

“Then what is it?” You sighed. You didn’t know why this mattered so much to him. You loved him, not Zoro. So what does a one night stand from two years ago even matter?

“Why him?” His voice barely audible.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his question.

“Did you….like him better than me?” He finally met your eyes, and your heart ached at his somber features.

So that’s what this was about….

“Baby, of course not,” you brought your hand to run through his hair, “it was just a drunken one night stand. Nothing more”

As much as Sanji wanted to believe your words he still felt like he always did when it came to that damn swordsman.

Second place.

He felt that he always had to compete with Zoro with everything. With you, he felt he finally had something Zoro couldn’t compete with or take away from him. Until now…

“C’mere”, you bring his face towards yours and press your lips against his. He hums against your mouth, the taste of your lips making him weak to his knees.

“I love YOU, Sanji,” you said before placing a kiss to his cheek, then his jawline, then his neck. You hands rand down from his blonde strands down his neck, his chest, then to his waistband.

“Y/N-“ his breath hitched as you began to unbuckle his slacks, dropping down to your knees so you were eye level with his hips.

“You’re the only man for me, Sanji” you purred, peering up at him.

Hooking your fingers into his waistband, you slowly brought down his pants and underwear, freeing his cock from its constraints. He was already hard and twitching, you smirked at his eagerness. You wrap your hand around his shaft and start to stroke him, a small whimper leaving his lips.

“You’re such a beautiful man” you swiped your tongue against his blushing pink tip, earning a breathy moan from the blonde man. “And you’re all mine”

With that you wrap your lips around him, taking him in. Your hands slid down to the base, working him as you began sliding your lips up and down his lengthy shaft.

“O-Oh baby”, he moaned out, fist bunching at the side of his legs as you sucked him off, your eyes locked on him.

The way your doe eyes looked up at him, he swore you were the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. From your eyes, to the way your pretty lips looked around his cock made all his past worries about you and Zoro disappear.

You bobbed your head further down his length, til your nose hit his pelvis. His hips bucked slightly at the sensation, causing you to gag a bit on his cock.

Sanji tried not being rough with you whenever you went down on him, always worried he might hurt you. But deep down, the way you struggle to take all of him in, gagging on his dick turned him on so much and brought him painfully close to the edge.

“Princess, wait, I’m gonna…m’gonna” you popped off his shaft and began pumping him at a rapid pace.

“Cum for me, babe” you said, before sticking your tongue out, ready for him.

And with that Sanji threw his head back as shots of his cum decorated your tongue.

You swallow everything he gave you, humming at the taste. You rise from your knees and place a kiss to his lips before stripping off your clothing, leaving you completely bare. You strut to the bed behind you, sitting at the edge .His eyes raked your body from your breasts down to your plush thighs.

“You’re so beautiful, my love”, Sanji oggled, slight blood trickling down his nose, his dick bobbing slightly from twitching.

You lean back on your elbows, slowly opening your legs, revealing your glistening cunt to him.

“I’m all yours, Sanji” your hand grazed up your sex, not breaking eye contact from him. “This pussy is all yours”

You arch your finger beckoning him to come closer, he eagerly obliged, ridding himself of his dress shirt. He wasted no time burying his head between your legs, devouring you.

“Ah…Sanji” you writhe and moan as he continues lapping you up, twirling his tongue against your clit. “You always make me feel so good…fuck”

The praise you were giving Sanji made him feel like he was on cloud nine. A sudden twinge of confidence was bubbling inside him. He was determined to show not only you, but himself he was the only one to make you feel this good.

He was the only one that knew your body like the back of his hand. How to make you fall apart on his tongue. Shouts of his name rang through the room as your orgasm hit you like a train, leaving you breathless.

Before you can regain your composure, your legs were already being rested around his neck as Sanji pounded into you, making you cry out.

“Who else can fuck you this good?”, Sanji grunted, not letting up his pace.

As if your moans weren’t enough, he needed to here you say it.

“Only you, Sanji” you managed to get out between moans.

You continued babbling praises of “all yours” and “only you” as Sanji thrusts became faster in pace.

Usually you guys tried to be more quiet during sex, but Sanji wanted your cries to be heard around the ship. He wants that damn mosshead to hear you.

Hear that you were his and his only.

#one piece smut #op smut #op fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #op fanfiction #sanji smut #sanji fanfic #sanji fanfiction #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji smut

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gorgeouslypink · 5 months

Note

hey pink!

i was hoping you could offer some encouragement and advice to me. basically the entire luckyvoidgirl thing yesterday, i acctually liked her success story, it made sense to me and i even listened to cee's subliminal and my parents ended up saying i don't have to go to this dumb event i was dreading so im even seeing successes with it

the thing was she said something that i can't stop thinking about. she said that a lot of tumblr is just misinformation and that the original blog that brought the void to tumblr was divineangelbee and she was exposed for lying about the void. everyone just copied whatever she said and kept spreading the same stuff she put out but her own experience was all a lie. it really got me thinking about how educated this community is about loa, like the void state and loa is so intertwined. luckyvoidgirl never said she used loa and she did something different but she got so much flack bc the void community on tumblr is so deeprooted in loa, possibly bc of angel. but anyways for a community that is so deeprooted in loa, so many people haven't entered and even worse, so many bloggers have been exposed for lying about their success story. the crazy thing is its so easy to lie on tumblr so the fact that so many have gotten caught makes me wonder how many we haven't even caught and really how does a community that knows loa struggle like this.

idk i just can't stop thinking about this and was hoping for some guidance.

hey love! im technically on break but you're not the only one spiraling so i rlly wanted to answer this.

first of all, i want to say she's just lying and this community is great but i can't. the truth of the matter is she is right. the person who brought the void to tumblr was @divineangelbee and she was the one who went around saying it was super easy and anyone can do it and she was and is still pretty much the blueprint for how a lot of voidstate tumblr thinks, but she was exposed for harassing her friends to enter the void for her. since then, many other bloggers who basically parrot the same thing as her have been exposed as well.

however i want to highlight something here. just because someone preaches something and it doesn't work out for them doesn't mean it's false. this is a super old argument, like back when bloggers like cleo and raven were super popular but people were arguing abt Sammy Ingram. basically she was a big affirm and persist girlie and people were going at her for saying this but never losing any weight (her main goal with manifestation was to lose weight but she never did and just gaslighted anyone who pointed it out, saying they were bodyshaming her). while something was off for sammy (maybe she didn't persist or maybe she just didn't bother doing her method at all), her method worked for so many people. there's boatloads and boatloads of success stories from her videos and methods. so someone can be lying about the void and still be giving legit advice.

however, the void state community on tumblr DOES have a lot of misinformation. ive seen people claim the void state is just SATS, just alpha state, theta state, delta state, it's acc just a placebo for you to guarantee manifestations, and all sorts of nonsense. now there's a new addition, people who tell you to pay money and they'll get you into the void state. it's honestly crazy how hard the community went against the luckyvoidgirl but not some of the other stuff i see here.

but anyways, what do you do?

you need to realize that you entering the void has nothing to do with the state of the void community on tumblr. people lying abt entering the void doesnt make the void a lie, it makes them a liar.

ive been in that position where i hailed bloggers and felt attached to this community so drama here messed with me internally. you shouldn't be doing that. please read my Doubts post where i talk about overcoming this and also provide many sources of proof that the void is real so that you don't need to rely on tumblr to know that:

also it helps to find a few reputable sources. i just wanted to give a shout out to someone rn: @voidprincessblog

her page is the page i would recommend to everyone. you can tell the amount of research and effort she puts into every post and you can trust her to be a reputable source on info.

im going to attach this other post of mine for you as well:

i wish you the best of luck on your void journey and hope this helps! 💟

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crabdrabbles · 2 months

Note

Hiii Crab so happy to see you write outside of our rants/idea chats and my fellow delulu cod enjoyer! Would love to request Platonic!141 + Reader (sorry if this is long and somewhat confusing lol). You can do headcanons, drabble or whatever you comfy for. An idea that popped in my head kinda semi personal: Civ or 141! Reader though has parents and family is the reader is quite something else. Reader despite having somewhat normal upbringing still feel empty; they shouldn't be feeling this numb and empty deep inside of them. The reader craves the love that they give but couldn't or lack of receiving it back, though they don’t expect it or selfishly want it. Just someone who understands them even in their deepest darkest secret or flaw then boom cue the task force 141 unexpected yet welcoming to their life and maybe the one that the Reader can lean and let them be vulnerable on (finally).

Take your time on doing this Looking for to your other writing genuinely -Cee, your fellow Soap delulu

GN!Reader & 141 (Mostly Price)

Warnings: Slight angst Ships: None. A/N: This absolutely ran away from me and I do not at all regret it, hope you enjoy, Cee!!! Words: 3549

Almost your entire life had been a cycle of self doubt that also started to churn and twist into self-hatred. You blamed yourself for the feelings. Afterall, you had a relatively normal upbringing. Two parents who were both present in your life, both of whom worked so that you all had food on the table and a roof over your head. A luxury that very few had.

The least you could do for them is follow the path that they wanted to put you on, no matter how much you didn’t want to do it. Because you loved them.

So you excelled in your education, studying hard to try and impress your parents– to make them love you just as much as you loved them for everything that they did for you for your entire life. They wanted you to do all three sciences despite the additional workload it would add to your already stretched thin time? Then you would do them, take any extra classes after school in order to keep up with the work and not lag behind any of your peers.

There was no such thing as a social life, either, not when you had homework and projects due. Friends were few and far between. Generally, most people left when they realised how hyper focused you were on your grades instead of social interaction.

Did a classmate get a higher grade than you on a test? Well obviously you didn’t study hard enough, you just needed to dedicate more time to school even though school was all you had.

Did you get the highest marks in the class? Good, that was what was expected of you. Why didn’t you get full marks? You were better than that. You would do better because you loved your family. They showed it in their own way, of course, by encouraging you to study harder and get better grades. That was their love language, and yours was doing as they asked without a second thought. Because, at the end of the day, you were lucky to have an upbringing like you had. You would ignore the hollow void clawing at your chest because you had no right to feel that way– not when you had a roof over your head and parents that loved you(?).

It was when you came top of the class with full marks in a recent test, you came home with a beaming smile on your face and proudly showed the test to your parents. They took the papers from your hands, flipping through your work with critical eyes, before handing the papers back to you.

‘Well done, we’re so proud of you.’ That was all you wanted them to say to you. That was all you needed to hear. To know that they loved you.

‘Your penmanship is terrible.’ Was what you got instead. When you tried to point at the big 100% in green pen, you were waved away. ‘How are you expected to get a job when you write like a child? I’m surprised the teacher could even read your answers’.

After several years of balancing a work and educational life and paving a way for a line of work that you didn’t want for parents you should have been grateful to have, you decided that enough was enough.

No matter how hard you worked, no matter how high your marks were, they would never be proud of you. They would never return the love that you had for them until you nearly killed yourself trying.

Spending your entire childhood, teenagehood and all of your current adulthood trying to please your parents predictably would damage one’s psyche. You had no friends, family who had never been devoted to you as you were to them, and high grades serving as the foundations to a prison-like future.

You dropped out of University. The only option forward that you saw was joining the army in the vain hope that the empty feeling inside of you would dissipate when you actually did something that you believed was more worthwhile than any University course.

So you threw yourself into the military, working harder than all of the other recruits and training at every chance you could.

Your skills and determination became widely recognised amongst your peers. It took several years, but you eventually caught the eye of none other than Captain John Price.

Impressed by your willpower that not many soldiers possessed, he offered you a place on the 141.

Naturally, you agreed. You believed that being part of such a well renowned and respected team would finally beat back the lingering self doubt and emptiness that had curled itself around your heart.

It didn’t. If anything, it made it worse.

You were invited to join the 141, sure, but they had already established their own relationships between each other, had already bonded into a close knit group, and you were simply an outsider. Yes, you had been hand picked by Price himself, but that didn’t mean you were part of the team. They had their own inside jokes that they told to one another, leaving you feeling left out on most days.

And you felt… lacking around them. Ghost was stronger, Gaz was faster, Soap was smarter (he was a demolitions expert for crying out loud!), and Price was almost all of those rolled into one. They all complimented each other as a team. Meanwhile you felt like a spare tyre, a master of nothing and barely a jack of any trade.

Despite how you felt about it all, they all called you ‘kid’. Regardless of age gaps between yourself and the rest of them, the nickname stuck mostly because you were the newbie. It came as a surprise that it wasn’t spat with vitriol as your peers before had, but it was in fact said with… an affection you couldn’t quite place.

You couldn’t ignore the hole in your chest that had been chipped at over the years, forming a gaping maw that no reassurances could really mend.

Doubt lingered in the back of your mind, chipping away at your sanity as you prepared for the worst. How long would it take before they realised you weren’t good enough?

You were so deep in your doubts that you didn’t realise that you had been distancing yourself even more than before until you overheard a conversation in Price’s office a few months down the line.

“-- they don’t belong on the team.” Gaz said as you passed Price’s office and your heart dropped. It was only the tailend of what he had been saying but you had gotten the gist. You wanted to stay, to listen to the conversation more and listen to what your team had to say about you, but you didn’t. What you were going to hear were likely things you had already told yourself right from the start. You keep walking on, ignoring the sting of tears burning in the corners of your eyes. The blood rushing in your ears prevented you from heating the rest of the conversation.

“-- not only are they acting like they don’t belong on the team, but they’re acting like they’re not good enough.” Gaz continued, sighing in frustration.

“Maybe they need more time.” Ghost rumbled in reply, “Let them come out of their shell a little bit. Best not rush these things.” He was talking from experience, after all.

“Aye… maybe I can invite them out for drinks or sommat? I wouldn’t want them getting transferred before we got to know them a little more.” Soap had been the one that had tried the hardest to get close to you but had also tried to give you space so as to not suffocate you with his personality.

“They won’t be getting transferred.” Price said with conviction, tapping his desk, “I chose them to be part of this team and this is where they’re going to stay. Let me have a word with them first.”

“Aye, sir.”

— — — — — —

You found yourself in the smoker’s shelter outside the main building. It was late enough that most of the soldiers had gone to bed or off to do their own things elsewhere so you doubted that you would be bothered for a little while. Just enough time for you to get your thoughts together. Your tears had dried in your eyes a few minutes ago, making them sting in the cold air. You didn’t need to look in your reflection to know that you probably looked like a wreck– entirely unbecoming of a soldier of your apparent status.

You didn’t want to get transferred. Despite your distance with the 141, you didn’t hate them. Far from, actually, you held a great deal of respect for each and every one of them. It was just that you felt like you didn’t have your place amongst them. Not good enough to be associated with them.

“Bit late to be out here in the cold, chuck.” A voice startled you out of your thoughts– one that you would recognise anywhere from the low rasp of a smoker's lungs.

“Captain.” You croaked, wincing at the patheticness in your voice. There was a scuff of boots as Price came closer, leaning into your line of vision with a furrowed brow which only furrowed more as he took in your dishevelled appearance.

“Something on your mind?” He asked kindly, perching on the arm of the bench to give you some personal space. He left his question open, allowing you any chance to steer the conversation how you wanted to. There was no judgement for catching you at your lowest, no disgust at your red rimmed eyes— just polite understanding and a non verbal offer of pleasant company.

“Why did you pick me, Captain?”

The question made him tilt his head, a frown beginning to tug on his features. You were worried you had insulted him.

“What brought this on, huh? Someone say something to you? Need me to have a word with them?” He straightened his back, scowling. Whilst you felt like you didn’t have a place in the 141, you could never deny the shield of protectiveness that Price held over his team. You remember in the back of your mind the day that some General who thought he was hot shit had the audacity to undermine Soap as nothing more than a ‘yappy dog’ when offered the Scot’s demolitions expertise. Price had appeared almost out of thin air and almost ripped the General a new one and things would have escalated into a fist fight had Laswell not intervened. It wasn’t as though Price didn’t think his own soldiers were capable of defending themselves, but he couldn’t care less about punishments aimed his own way over that of his Sergeants and Lieutenant. It was just a surprise that the protective streak extended over you, too, despite your distance to your teammates.

“I’ll sound stupid.” You mumbled, looking down at the ground as if expecting him to chastise you like a child. He didn’t.

“I’ve had my fair share of stupid over the years. Try me.”

“... and ungrateful.”

“I once had a guy punch me in the face two seconds after I took a bullet that would have killed him.” Price countered with a cut off chuckle once he remembered what was probably a mission long finished and cleared his throat. “C’mon, tell Captain what’s on your mind.”

And he sounded so sincere when he said it. Sounded like he genuinely wanted to hear what was going on in your head– that he was willing to waste what was already his important and limited time on someone like you.

“Sir—”

“John.” Price corrected gently, crows feet more noticeable at the corners of his eyes scrunched up when he smiled, “We’re off duty, you don’t need to be so formal.”

“... John.” You echoed, finding that you really didn’t like saying that. It felt like calling your teacher by their first name in primary school or a classmate’s parent other than their last name.

“Now, c’mon, tell me what’s on your mind. Might not be a therapist, but I’m better than bottling it up.” You wondered in the back of your mind how often Price did this. Sat with his soldiers and talked with them, offered them a listening ear to hear their vents and fears. You couldn’t help but feel honoured to be one of the few he willingly offered said time to. Your silence stretched on as you thought of the words to say, how to phrase what you wanted to say without sounding unappreciative of the opportunity that Price had offered you when he requested you join his team.

“I don’t feel like I belong here.” You blurted once the silence had stretched on for long enough to border on uncomfortable. John’s face fell and you quickly realised how bad that sounded and rushed to correct yourself.

“No, no, wait, let me explain–” the Captain closed his mouth to allow you to continue speaking, but you could tell that it was hard for him. “I just… you could have anyone better than me, you know? I’m not a demolition expert. I’m… I’m not the best Sniper. I’m the slowest on the team, pretty sure I’m the weakest–”

“Nope.” Price interrupted, finally breaking the bubble of your personal space as he took a proper seat next to you on the bench but still respecting the distance enough to keep a few inches between you. “Nope, not lettin’ you say another word.”

“But–”

“Nope.”

“Cap–”

“No.”

“But you could have anyone better—“

“But they wouldn’t be you.” He deflected easily. Far too easily. He leant back on the bench, crossing one leg over the other as he folded his arms over his chest. His fingers twitched and you could tell he was itching for a cigar but didn’t light one out of respect.

“Alright, sure, I can ask Laswell to give me one of the best soldiers in the SAS and have them brought here tomorrow. They could be the best of the best, top of their class, better than you and maybe even better than me. But that’s a bit of a stretch.” He winked and earned a weak chuckle from you. “But they won’t be you. I don’t pick just on skill alone, kid, I pick based on how I feel people would fit into the team. I chose you because I knew that you’d be perfect.”

“As for not being a demolitions expert, let me let you in on a little secret. I’ve no fucking clue about demolitions, either. And you don’t have to be on the team to be the ‘best Sniper’. You’re better than most, and that’s what’s important. As for being the weakest– did you or did you not bodily lift Gaz in a fireman’s carry during training the other week while he was trying to act as an injured civilian? Quite dramatically, might I add. Swooned and everything.”

You remembered that practice mission. Quite fondly, actually. Gaz was a civilian and , after being struck by a foam bullet from Soap, had dramatically screamed in agony and crumpled to the floor. When you had lifted him up and over your shoulders, the bastard continued to wail something along the lines of telling his non-existent spouse that he loved them and that his money be given to his equally non-existent children. Soap got in another shot to the man’s head, knocking off his cap in the process. Distracted as you were trying to haul your teammate out of the danger zone, you couldn’t help but laugh thinking about it now.

“Last time I checked, Gaz is somewhat heavier than a sack of flour. Don’t tell him I said that, I’ll hurt his feelings.” Price was right, you supposed. You were more than capable of carrying Gaz over your shoulders, maybe even Soap or Price himself if the time called for it. Ghost you weren’t so sure about, though. The man was a walking mountain.

“What I’m trying to say is that you have to give yourself more credit. You’re more than good enough to be on my team. I chose you for a reason.”

You… did not expect that sort of reassurance from Price. You had hoped for something along those lines, yes, but perhaps with a thrown in criticism or three. You waited for a ‘but’ that never came. The man snorted beside you and when you gave him a quizzical look, he waved off your concern.

“Shit, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the next thing out of your mouth would be that your parents never hugged you as a kid.”

Your silence made him slowly turn his head towards you. It would have almost been comical if the situation wasn’t. His face crumbled and a wounded sound emerged from his throat.

“Sometimes they did!” You rushed to defend the people that raised you. “And they gave me food and shelter, clothes when I needed them–”

“Fucking hell. No, that’s what they’re supposed to do because they’re your parents. What about telling you that they were proud of you? That they loved you? I saw your records. Top of your class in not just your training but in your education, too. Triple sciences, mathematics, all of it. They had to be proud of you for that? My parents would have killed for me to get even a passing grade in my GCSEs.” You looked down at the ground and it was Price’s turn to have his eyes fixed on you.

“They were proud of you, weren’t they?” He asked again, leaning forwards so he could catch your eye, his own filled with concern. “Kid?”

“I don’t talk to them much anymore.”

Price inhaled sharply and he leaned back again, looking around and clenching his jaw as if fighting back his anger. His fingers twitched again. You admired his self control as he was still yet to grab a cigar that you knew he kept on his person. Usually in his breast pocket while his lighter was in his right pocket.

“Listen to me.” The Captain said, a more stern edge to his voice now that he had gathered his thoughts together. “Whatever your family said to you— how they treated you? Forget it. They showed you obligation. Not love. They didn’t want what was ‘best’ for you, they wanted bragging rights. What you’ve achieved– here, in bootcamp, in university and in school, is something to take pride in– no, no, look at me.”

Your gaze had trailed to the side so you avoided looking at your Captain in the eyes. He noticed and clicked his fingers to gain your attention back on him.

“Don’t look away from me because I want you to listen to what I’m gonna say and I want you to look at my face as I say it.” Your eyes met his blue ones, “You should be proud of everything that you’ve achieved in your life. I’m sorry that your family never told you that and I’m sorry that I haven’t said that enough to you since you joined 141.”

You opened your mouth to say something– to argue or disagree but he shook his head.

“No. It’s my turn to speak now. I’m proud of you. I am so proud of you. Everything you’ve done and everything that you’re yet to do, I will always be proud of you. You’re an exemplary soldier and I knew the moment I saw you that you would be a perfect addition to the 141 and you have proved me right time and time again. You belong on this team just as much as the rest of the boys. Do you understand?”

So many words– proud, proud, proud. That’s all you had wanted to hear for so many years from someone whose opinion mattered to you. You wanted to be seen and Price, this godsend of a man, had seen you and more.

“Kid, do you understand me?”

You nodded once and then realised that Price wouldn’t have been able to tell through your shaking. Tears blurred in the corners of your eyes and you nodded again, not trusting your voice in case it shattered.

“What do you need from me?” Price’s voice was oh so soft, like he was talking to a frightened fawn. He could see how much his words had affected you and it clearly broke his own heart.

“A hug.” Your bottom lip wobbled and his face softened as he opened his arms, twitching his fingers to urge you closer.

“I can do that.”

You leaned into him and he quickly wrapped his arms around you, drawing you in close. You could smell the lingering scent of his last cigar. The smell of his office and cleaning oil. You felt his chin on the top of your head and felt how his chest rumbled as he spoke.

“You’re part of the 141 whether you like it or not, alright? Me and the boys want you here for as long as you want to be.”

At that moment, for the first time in your life. You felt wanted. You felt appreciated and you felt seen.

have a request? send one in!

#modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 3 #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #platonic task force 141 #platonic task force 141 & reader

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wonderfullyweirdd · 4 months

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So I played this game today in Uni's fest, where we were asked to share a thing/incidence from the past two years of our lives that amazed us, or something that we found beautiful.

I couldn't really answer properly back there because there are just so many things that have inspired me. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that the Jily fandom (or any fandom in general) is something that is so uniquely beautiful.

Majority of the people here don't know how the other person looks, majority of us are from different nations, majority of us speak different languages, we are all different ages, we all have different jobs, hell we all belong to different time zones!

But there's something like a thread that has tied us all together. It's something as simple as love for two people, that too fictional characters!

It's like, a fiction has given us something real. Divided my nations (perhaps) but united by a fandom!

And if that's not beautiful, I don't know what is.

Love and light to everyone reading this!❤️✨

Ps: For everyone who's new here, welcome to the club!

Here's a few of my favourites if you want to read!

@wearingaberetinparis

@kay-elle-cee

@ghostofbambifanfiction

@annabtg

@mppmaraudergirl

@maraudersftw

@possessingtheproperspirit

@missgryffin

@ohmygodshesinsane

@theesteemedladydebourgh

@practicecourts

@charmsandtealeaves

@abihastastybeans

@blitheringmcgonagall

@athenasparrow

Art:

@blvnk-art

@constancezin

Really sorry if I missed out on some names, please know I love all your works!❤️

Pps: Also, a shout out to @jilyawards who organises Jily awards every year so perfectly!❤️

#jily #jily love #jple

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frannyzooey · 1 year

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In The Dark: Epilogue

Pairing: Ezra x f!reader

Rating: None

A/N: We are finally at the end of this story - thank you to every single person who read it, who supported it, who sent in asks or reblogged or liked or lurked. I couldn’t have done it without you all. Dedications at the end, along with some bonus extras. Thank you all so very much - I love you, and Happy New Year!

Series Masterlist

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

“So, how is the new place going?” You rest your cheek on your knee, smiling at the immediate change in her expression on your screen. Your dorm room is behind you, warm and cozy in contrast to the starkness of her bedroom.

“It’s okay,” Cee says. “It’s still kinda weird, ya know? Living with different people?” She shrugs, resting her chin in her hand. “It’s kinda cool, since they’re my own age and sometimes we have these amazing parties and there is this girl who is moving in next week who I am totally eyeing, but also the extra chores suck? No one ever does their dishes around here.”

You nod in sympathy, having been in that situation before.

“I feel like it’s not that hard?” she continues, and you laugh.

“It’s really not. How is that new class coming?”

Rolling her eyes, she launches into detail about her writing professor and the pain of her weekly workshop group and you feel a pang of longing to experience those things with her, so you could truly commensurate. Not that you couldn’t, since you were going through those specific pains in your own program right now, but it was different then - when you were going through it together.

“Anyway, it’ll get better. I don’t wanna talk about it though.” She sits back, piling her fine blond hair on top of her head in a bun cupped by her hands for a moment, before letting it drop. “Tell me about next week. What are you doing again? How long are you off for?”

“Two weeks.” Just saying the words out loud makes you grin in relish, an eagerness for it to begin coming through in the dreamy tone of your voice. “I wanna see all the cheesy tourist spots for sure, but I am literally itching to get into some of those bookstores. And the museums, definitely those. And oh my god, the food.”

Shoreditch had all of these things and you had slowly been exploring them, but the vastness of London had been calling to you. Your workload too heavy to explore the way you’ve wanted to, you’ve been earmarking various spots for months and now that your break is finally here, you feel like you can truly tour around. And also look up from the screen of your laptop for a change - that would be nice.

You let out an aching groan of pleasure at the thought and she smiles on the screen.

“After that, I don’t know? Don’t laugh, but I kinda wanna rent a car and drive to Cornwall? Don’t ask me about navigating while driving on the other side of the road because I don’t have an answer for you, but the views are supposed to be gorgeous and……”

“Poldark,” you both say at the same time, dissolving into giggles.

“God he’s gorgeous. I mean, I know he’s not there, but I’ll be able to sense him. I just know it.”

She sips her tea on her side of the screen while you list off the rest of your itinerary: Persephone Books, for their quaint, romantic store front and unique events, Dishoom for a bacon naan roll and to feel like you’ve stepped back into time into 1940’s Bombay, The London Eye to get some pictures, but first Gloria: a restaurant by your new place that you’ve been dying to try. You just knew the pictures online wouldn’t do it justice; the opulent, busy, lush setting of rich carpets and mirror paneled walls and greenery climbing down from the ceiling like sparkling, light strung ivy at the top of your wishlist.

Eventually, your stifled yawns interrupt your spoken dreams, and she finishes her tea, stretching in her perch on her chair. She glances at the time in the corner of her screen and frowns.

“Yikes, it’s gotta be so late there for you. You better get some sleep, so you’re not exhausted in the morning..”

You mirror her stretch, nodding. “Yea, I still gotta finish packing.”

She leans closer to the screen, a look of affection stealing across her delicate features.

“Well make sure you take a bunch of pictures, okay? I wanna see everything you’re seeing. Send me the view from the Eye on Snapchat or something and if you go see those guards, take a selfie with one of them just for me.”

You laugh, assuring her that you will and when you say your goodbyes and hang up, a smile lingers on your face. Just like her to ask for something weird like that.

Standing, you close your laptop and leave it on your desk, walking over to your bed. The layout of your new place is tighter than the last; student housing always a bit cramped. You’ve never minded close quarters, liking the overall coziness it forces and resting your hand on the corner of a small bookshelf that already has a substantial collection growing on it, you crack the window, letting street sounds waft in on the night air.

Changing into your pajamas, you switch out the light while yawning yet again and checking your alarm is set, you crawl into bed. Opening your white noise app, you select “city sounds” and closing your eyes, quickly fall asleep.

–

Anticipation wakes you early, and similar to New York City, Shoreditch is alive with people already when you leave your flat. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you slip into the crowd, making your way to the tube and as you walk, you run through a mental checklist of everything you want to do today, so as to not waste one minute.

Not quite as many people on these streets as there had been in the city, the sights and sounds were so similar it was comforting: brightly scrawled murals over aged brick, trendy restaurants tucked into small store fronts, young people walking effortlessly down the sidewalk with their faces buried in their phones. Spotting the iconic circular sign that gave you a thrill when you saw it for the first time, you made your way down the damp stairwell, following the crowd to the platform. Getting on your train, you find a seat by the window and digging in your bag, you fish your earbuds and pull up a playlist, relaxing into your seat.

The steady, smooth rock of the train as it pulls away from the station comforts you, reminding you of home after all this time. The transit systems are similar, the people that ride them even more so and watching scenery pass by, you think about your first time navigating The Underground. The thought, and the events planned for this morning, bring forth other memories.

Your first night crawling into your new bed: slipping on the shirt he tucked into your bag, the longing for your apartment and all its familiar noises was a real, tangible ache in your chest. The ache for him was felt even deeper, the image of his face as he said goodbye only ten hours old and fresh in your mind at that point. A few tears slipped free into that new pillow of yours; the first of what would be many more.

Your first weeks navigating your new surroundings: testing out the transit, finding your new travel paths, exploring the restaurants within walking distance.

The nervous hesitation you felt when sharing in your new workshop for the first time, the tiny tables in new restaurants where you sat alone on your computer, your delight at the discovery of East African food.

Tea: something you never came around to. By your measure, it had nothing on coffee and for weeks, you would have killed for a latte from your favorite place, with a dash of cinnamon on the top.

All the while, you had missed him.

Your new surroundings had been seen through Ezra tinted glasses; a wash of him over everything you saw. Everything reminded you of him: the antique shop on the corner, the Persian restaurant you passed while walking to class, every bookstore or record shop or furniture gallery or men’s clothing shop or every dark haired man, your eyes searching for his confident gait everywhere.

At first, it was so intense you couldn’t hardly breathe, but with time, it lessened. Friends, routine, school, new experiences, dinners, parties. You still thought of him often, but it was no longer the crushing weight of a wave forcing you under. With each new day that passed, the waves calmed more and more; overwhelming, then bearable, then ripples that came and went.

Cee had eventually come around, writing you an email about your letter about a month after you left. When you replied, she replied back and it slowly evolved into more emails and then texts and then FaceTime, on your computer at night. She had reached out to you for writing advice, wanting your opinion on something she was going to turn in and it was like her story was an olive branch — which was fitting, for two people who first bonded over the words scribbled in her notebook.

The two of you never had a formal discussion about what happened, but rather an acknowledgment through email about the roles you each played. Understanding that sometimes it was easier to talk about difficult things through writing versus speaking them out loud, you were thankful for it. She needed time to think about it, which you gave her, and in the end, she forgave you.

Still, you never spoke directly about Ezra if you could help it.

Four months into your new surroundings, you had just walked in the door after a late night library session when your phone buzzed in your bag. Pulling it out, the sight of his name on your screen made you freeze. You can still feel the heat you felt, your heart picking up as you hesitantly tamped down the excitement that immediately rose in your chest and when you answered it, he could hear it all in your voice.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Birdie.”

He said those two words, letting the silence hang for a moment and you were immediately back in your apartment, the memory of when he used to call felt so strongly you shut your eyes.

He had been drunk and lonely, missing you. Trying so hard to keep his distance for your sake, he finally caved and called; his low, husky voice sleepy and quiet through the phone, but warm with affection. You talked to him for a long time: about the city, about your program, about what he had been up to. When it came time to hang up, he asked if he could call you again and when you said yes, you could hear the smile in his voice when he said goodbye.

He did call you after that, and you stayed in touch a lot. It wasn’t as intense as it was before — no phone call every night before bed, no FaceTime videos, no partially undressed photos — but rather an easy intimacy between two really good friends. Ones who knew each other inside out, and had fond memories of the time they’d shared together.

Not to say that you didn’t get yourself off to the thought of him still, after all this time.

You tried going out and meeting people, tried going home with someone a few times but after you slipped back into your clothes and made your way home, you never felt that longing to be back in their bed and in their arms the way you always felt with him. Eventually, you stopped trying and just focused on school.

The train slows and pulls into King’s Cross, and you rise from your seat, waiting your turn to alight. Stepping off, you make your way to the escalators and a sort of nervous anticipation thrums wildly through your veins, making your limbs jittery. You try to take a calming breath, checking the time on your phone - your train running a few minutes behind, you hope you’re not too late.

Finally stepping into the atrium, light floods the space. People are everywhere: gathered in clusters as they check maps in their hand with suitcases and backpacks at their feet, business people walking briskly around and between them, travelers and students and children and shop vendors; the murmur of the collective crowd a loud one. Your heart beats faster in your chest, your eyes scanning the room and they land on one person after another, trying to keep track as they move. A bright flash of yellow there, a brown mop of curls there and suddenly, you see him.

The familiar breadth of his shoulders faces you, a backpack that you’ve never seen before only serving to make him look broader. For how long it’s been since you’ve seen the nape of his neck, you’d recognize his stance anywhere and you simultaneously want to stand there for a moment and admire him from afar, while also fighting the urge to run.

Not being able to help moving automatically in his direction, when he turns and his gaze catches yours, he grins and you feel a sudden wave of emotion so strong you want to cry. He looks just the same - the unruly dark curls, the crumpled cotton t-shirt even more so from traveling, the face you know so well and that dimple. It had only just started to fade from your memory, and the sight of it makes your heart burst.

“Hey, Birdie,” he smiles when you reach him, opening his arms and you step right into them, like no time has passed.

So solid, so strong, so affirming in his touch - your hello is muffled against his shoulder as you breathe in the familiar musk of his warm skin and when you pull back, you can already see the possibilities of these next two weeks in his warm, albeit travel worn smile: his laughter in a dimly lit restaurant, the weight of his arm across your shoulders when he pulls you in for a selfie, his profile as you drive through the country, the firm slide of his skin against yours every one of those nights.

He looks like he wants to kiss you and your mouth longs for the same, but you both stand still, savoring the beat of anticipation; the crowd moving around you.

“You ready?” you ask, lacing your fingers with his.

He tightens his hold, grinning.

“Ready.”

The End

Bonus: Birdie’s Travel Pictures

I have so many people I want to thank for this story:

@mourningbirds1, first and foremost, who sat with me through every single one of these chapters and who is the world’s best and most patient teacher. You made my writing better with every single soothing message you sent, every comment you left on the document, every lesson you taught me in your kind and patient way. This story wouldn’t be nearly what it is without you, nor would I have had the courage to tackle it in the first place without your constant validation and support and I love you so very, very much. Having one of your favorite writers as a mentor is the literal dream come true, and you did that for me. <3

@krissology and @charnelhouse - without our group chat and your constant support, I wouldn’t have made it through this. You both inspire me in so many ways every single day, and you’re always there when I need to rant, vent, work out a plot line, hash out an idea, and I am so grateful to have both of you in my life. I love you <3

@highsviolets @imaswellkid @dazedrhapsody and @psychedelic-ink - thank you so so much for your constant enthusiasm and your magnificent playlists for this story. They inspired me in so many ways - a number of scenes in this story were directly inspired by your songs, dreamt of while I was working or driving, and I am forever thankful for you sharing them with me. They are beautiful, just like you all. I love you <3

To anyone that made art, to anyone that sent me a message, to anyone who was patient and kind and validating while I tried to take my time and try new things and grow - thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you all, and this community. I love you <3

#ezra prospect #ezra prospect/you #ezra prospect/reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #pedro pascal

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infinitystoner · 6 months

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Join the Mischief: Cee & K’s Glorious Birthday Bash!

You’re invited to @loki-cees-all & @infinitystoner’s Glorious Birthday Bash! Prepare for trouble (and make it double).

We thought it’d be fun to do something special to celebrate our birthdays together! Because aren’t two birthdays better than one?

Join us for a month of birthday madness (Nov. 2 - Dec. 2), as we dive into a whirlwind of scenarios, celebrations, and all-around merriment!

RULES (because even God of Mischief-approved celebrations need structure)

Check out the list below and select your favorite party game(s)!

Slide into our inboxes with your chosen prompts. Be bold, be imaginative, and let your creativity run wild!

You can send requests to either (or both) of us. While we’re holding back on the answers until Nov. 2, feel free to get the party started early!

🐊 headcanons - Let’s unwrap some chaos! Send in your birthday-inspired scenes, and we’ll reveal our headcanons on how Loki would react.

🪩 party guests - Send three characters (18+) for us to decide fates for (f*ck, marry, exile), or select a prompt from this list.

Characters can be from any fandom (if we’re not familiar with the fandom, we’ll just make a blind guess - prepare to be amused!). Just no real people, please.

👯‍♀️ would you rather - Make us choose! Send your most chaotic, mind-boggling, and wild scenarios.

And to top it all off, we’ve got a special treat! A double dose of mischief, if you will.

💚 Against the Wall by @loki-cees-all

Pairing: TVA!Loki x Fem. Reader (Smut, Ruffled Tuxedo Appreciation, Semi-public sex)

Summary: The first interrogation of X-5 doesn’t go as planned, and Loki needs to blow off some steam. He returns to 1977 for a drink, and discovers that not only have his actions have left you abandoned by your date to his movie premiere – but it’s also your birthday.

Thankfully, Loki knows just how to solve both of your problems.

💚 First Light by @infinitystoner

Pairing: Prince!Loki x Fem. Reader (Fluff, Smut)

Summary: Vetrnætr is a time to welcome winter and honor the gods of old. But, on the first morning of festivities, the only thing Loki wants to celebrate is you.

~~~~ Looking forward to celebrating with all of you! -K 💚

#gloriousbirthdaybash #loki #loki x reader #masterpost

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melishade · 1 month

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Attack on Prime: Autobot Anthology "Matrix of Leadership"

Main Story

Lobbing

Ice Skating

Comfort

This was brought up by a guest reviewer under the name of 'Svecz Dávid' and it was something I should have brought up but kept on forgetting so thank you for that!

This will take place just before chapter 77 in AOP.

Wheeljack was tightening the screws on the panel of the Jackhammer while Arcee was looking over their datapad in silence. As Wheeljack finished fixing up the Jackhammer, a thought occurred to him.

"'Cee," Wheeljack called for her, "A thought occurs."

Arcee hummed absentmindedly, browsing through some old Cybertronian literature.

"Why didn't we ask Prime to show us the Matrix of Leadership?" Wheeljack asked, "That's like...the biggest evidence he could even provide."

Arcee raised her helm to process Wheeljack's question. Her optics narrowed at the thought, and when the realization finally came to her, she covered her face in shame.

"Primus below! We are so fragging stupid!" Arcee yelled, her servos muffling her voice. Wheeljack just started cackled, finding the whole situation hilarious.

"The what of what?" Sasha asked in confusion as Hanji began flipping through their notes.

"The..." Arcee grimaced a little, ashamed to even admit her own failure in this, "Matrix of Leadership."

"Ancient relic, ultra powerful tool of the Primes, only thing that would even make a Prime a legit Prime," Wheeljack listed.

"The collective wisdom of the Primes." Hanji read, "If the device is removed from the holder or relinquished, the holder could suffer amnesia with no ability to remember their time without the Matrix of said Matrix is restored."

Everyone looked at Hanji in surprise.

"Commander, how do you know that?" Eren asked.

"Oh, I eavesdropped on Optimus' little history lesson to you years ago," Hanji answered casually.

"Commander," Optimus scolded.

"Erwin asked for information on you and who was I to defy orders," Hanji reasoned.

"You would have gotten that info regardless if Erwin told you," Levi shot back.

"Maybe." Hanji shrugged.

"You also called the Matrix a 'parasite'?" Armin leaned backwards to see the notes that Hanji had written on the subject matter.

"Yeah, I stand by that," Hanji declared.

"What does this have to do with Optimus?" Mikasa asked Arcee.

"If Optimus actually has the Matrix, then we can't assume that he's a fake," Arcee groaned in shame, ducking her helm a little to avoid eye contact.

The Survey Corps was quiet for a moment before Jean spoke up. "Are you fucking serious?!"

"Jean," Optimus warned.

"No! What the hell?! This whole tension bullshit could have been avoided if they had just asked about it in the first place!" Jean yelled.

"All those months of tensions and stand offs!" Connie lamented.

"Look it slipped our minds, okay?!" Arcee exclaimed, "We figured the Star Saber was the best way to go because Optimus was the only one who could pick it up! Anyone can take the Matrix for themselves or make a copy of the fragging thing!"

"Arcee is right," Optimus spoke up.

"Don't defend her!" Levi ordered.

"There have been false primes in the past who have tried to forge a fake Matrix in order to gain political power," Optimus explained, "But the Matrix has to be granted to the holder by Primus. He is the one who held the Matrix in the core of Cybertron."

"And Primus is..," Sasha trailed off.

"Uh...god." Wheeljack pondered the right words.

The 104th tilted their heads towards Optimus.

"You've met god?!" Jean asked.

"That's another story for another day." Levi shut down, already getting a headache at the implications of Prime's long-winded life, "Prime, why the hell didn't you show the Matrix in the first place?!"

"The Matrix is within my chassis. If I opened my chassis, I would be exposing the Matrix and my spark, and Arcee and Wheeljack were already mistrusting of me. I did not want to put myself in danger like that," Optimus explained.

Wheeljack rubbed the back of his helm. "Fair."

"I suppose...I don't trust people...easily," Arcee grumbled.

"So...Are we going to see it, or-!" Hanji's question was answered when they all heard and saw the mechanics of Optimus' chassis move. The plating had folded in on itself, and when it was completed, everyone saw a strange device locked and planted in his chest. It looked like some shards of energon were inside of an incomplete golden sphere. The sphere itself was surrounded by a rectangular outline of silver metal. There were some other mechanics and parts that none of them could recognize, no doubt part of Optimus' biology, but the reactions on Arcee and Wheeljack's faces were more than enough.

Wheeljack pointed at Optimus' open chassis before glancing at Arcee. "That looks pretty real. Between the forge and the Allspark container, ancient relics tend to have some kind of vibe."

Arcee raised an eyebrow at that. "A vibe?"

"Yeah, a 'do not touch' vibe." Wheeljack justified his reasoning.

Optimus merely closed his chassis before crossing his arms in response. "Does that give you some form of closure?"

Arcee nodded her helm. "It does."

"Oh thank god! We're finally past this bullshit!" Eren crumpled in relief.

"Well there's still Bu-!"

Eren clamped his hand over Connie's mouth. "Past. It."

Hanji blinked when they realized what Connie was talking about: Megatron. There was still going to be tension about him regardless. Things might have become a little calmer, but...a thought occurred. One that they wanted to ask the former warlord when he comes by later.

Later

"No new updates?" Hanji asked in their office. They were sitting on top their desk, legs swinging back and forth.

"No," Megatron answered them in his human form, "Everything's been stagnant as of late. I have no new tasks for Lionheart as of now."

"Hm. Well, I guess if something urgent comes up, let me know," Hanji said, "Wait! One more thing!"

"What?" Megatron hissed.

"I'm certain you know what the Matrix of Leadership is," Hanji began.

"...I'm not telling you what I know." Megatron crossed his arms.

"You don't need to. That thing is a parasite, but that's not what I wanted to ask," Hanji insisted, "Wheeljack and Arcee asked about the Matrix because they explained that it's what makes a true Prime."

"So?"

"You didn't ask about it," Hanji proclaimed, "Ever since you came here, you didn't ask Optimus to show the Matrix to prove his identity. You didn't question Optimus at all. For someone so mistrustful of everyone and everything, you trusted completely that Optimus was Optimus."

Megatron mouthed form a thin line. "You want to know why."

Hanji nodded.

"....." Megatron knew he shouldn't say anything, but he knew it was going to be a question Hanji wouldn't shut up about. How much could he say where it wouldn't compromise him too much?

"I don't have to tell you my business." Megatron decided to go on the offensive. He didn't need to tell them.

"Ugh, Megatron." Hanji rolled their eyes, "Don't make me guess."

"Goodbye," Megatron bid them farewell and deactivated the holoform. Hanji sighed and rested their cheeks on their hands.

"Grumpy asshole," Hanji grumbled.

Megatron continued to fly north, assuming the Autobots weren't at the neutral ship. But...the Commander was right. He didn't question that it was Optimus. Not even for a second.

Well...he had nothing left. If Optimus was who he said he was, then he can try to make amends with him. If Optimus wasn't who he said he was, what more did he even have to lose?

(It was literally hope and desperation driving him that he didn't question Optimus about the Matrix. Anyway, thanks Svecz Dávid for the idea.)

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