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tadpolesonalgae · 6 months

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Soft!dom!Cassian x reader: On the strategy board[*]

A/N: I didn’t even try with that title, did I? Straight to the point.

Warnings: reader steps through the door after a week long mission and they’re practically on top of one another, sex,,,on the strategy board

Word Count: 2,522

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The scent of home wraps around you, baggage sliding from your shoulders as you allow it to seep into your lungs. Put its hands all over you and infuse itself into your clothes.

Bones are practically aching for him already, having subconsciously blocked off your needs while you were on your week-long mission to make it more bearable. But now it’s all flooding back—a week without your mate. And it’s hitting you hard.

Hastily, you unbuckle the backpack, setting it on the table before going in search of him. You’ve half a mind to simply settle on the floor and take care of yourself right then and there. With how attuned you are to one another’s scents, he’d probably find you in a heartbeat.

You come across his study, finding him stood over his strategy board, a map encased in glass set upon its surface, tiny block carvings scattered across the detailed expanse. His large hands are braced on the edge, leaning over with his brow tight in the middle, staring at the Illyrian mountains, evidently pondering some kind of trouble they’re kicking up.

His wings remain tucked away at his back in concentration, nostrils flaring delicately before hazel keenly cuts to where you’re standing in the doorway. His eyes widen marginally before he’s easing out a deep sigh, shoulders uncoiling from tension and a smile breaks across your lips as he stalks forward. Powerful arms wrap around your waist and shoulders, pulling you into his towering figure as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nosing at the sensitive skin, already pressing light kisses down.

“Gods I missed you,” he breathes on an exhale, palm spanning your hip, keeping you tucked into him as he takes in the familiarity of your scent. You allow it, arms greedily snaking around his waist, keeping away from his wings for the moment, pressing your cheek into the broad expanse of his shoulder. “I missed you too,” you mumble lowly, back arching as he pushes away your hair.

“What were you doing?” You ask as he begins kissing lower, nipping at your collar bones. Calculating brain switching off for a moment to relish in the feel of you against him. He groans over hot skin, biting lightly at the neckline of your top, tugging softly before managing to pull himself away, delivering you his full attention.

“They’re making trouble for me again,” he mutters out, glancing over his shoulder at the strategy board, distaste passing through strained features. Your hand cups his jaw, guiding his gaze back to you as you push up onto your tiptoes, leaning your weight into his chest. “Can I make a little trouble for you, too?”

A low growl rumbles from his throat, and something thick and hard pokes into your stomach, hips digging in as he grips you a little tighter. “You are trouble,” he counters, pulling you flush to his torso, wings cresting at his back, the sharp talons at their peaks gleaming in the daylight. “Is that a yes?” You ask, shifting so your arms lock around the back of his neck, dark hair running between your fingertips.

“Gods yes,” he groans, opening his mouth over your own.

His hot tongue dips between your lips, stroking and flicking against the roof of your mouth as he explores leisurely but with an undercurrent of haste. Hands grip a little tighter, guiding you to that strategy table, calloused palms spreading beneath your thighs as he effortlessly plucks you from the ground, wrapping your legs snug around his hips. Pressing your soft centre to the shape of his cock, straining beneath the damn Illyrian leathers.

“I’ve missed you…so much,” you mumble between kisses, gripping his hair as he tastes you, pressing between your thighs. “Good,” he grits out, raising your top up over your head, throwing it off somewhere, taking the vest with it. “Can’t have you getting tired on me now.” Thumbs graze your peaked nipples, pinching and twisting, and you moan, arcing into his rough touch.

“Cassian,” you groan, his lips moving down to your throat, sucking and biting eagerly. “I need you. Hurry up.”

The male chuckles, a deep rumble from his chest as he raises to stare at you, hazel sharp and piercing. “Who gives the orders here?” He asks rhetorically, a bit of the feared Commander shining through, heat rushing between your legs that subconsciously spread wider. Teeth push into your lower lip as he pinches at your breasts, tugging lightly. “Give me some orders then,” you mumble, ankles crossing at his back, urging him closer.

The smile he offers is soft, but there’s that half-wild pulse beating between you, the bond urging you to devour one another and relish in the intimacies afforded. “Just because I won’t spank you raw now doesn’t mean I won’t do it later,” he replies lowly, pupils dilating as he stares down at you, wings flaring at his back in seductive threat.

But you part your thighs wider, hands lowering to the straps and ties on his leathers. “I’ll be good, General,” you murmur, peering up at him as your fingers work on muscle memory alone. “Just for you.”

Cassian groans, then his mouth reopens over yours, hands fumbling with the band of your trousers, palms snaking around your back, dipping beneath the band and prying them seamlessly from your skin. He swallows your gasp greedily when the cold glass presses icily into the warmth of your bare hind, goosebumps prickling your skin as he steps away to rid you of your clothes, leaving you in the single remaining scrap, clinging to your hips.

Hazel eyes latch with your own, discarding his top, pulling it off over his back having already undone the slats for his wings. His dark, hungry gaze meets yours, not even having to tell you to lay back on the board and spread your thighs before you’re doing it on your own.

Male satisfaction glitters across his features, lips carving themselves into a cocky smirk as he stalks forward. “So obedient when you want something, sweetheart,” he murmurs, hands brushing attentively across the tops of your knees. “If it’s the best way to get it,” you respond breathlessly, needing him to take himself out already and just sink into you before you flood his strategy board.

He shakes his head, chuckling as he works himself free, watching as your eyes drop to his cock, hungry with blow-out pupils. “That mind of yours,” he remarks lowly, gripping himself almost to the point of pain, stroking himself before running through the wetness of your dripping heat. “You love this mind of mine,” you breathe, hips winding, coating him in your slick so he’ll be able to sink in deeper.

Gleaming white teeth bite into his lower lip, hissing lowly as he grinds against you, already feeling the strain and stress dissipating. It does something in his brain, to see you spread out across a map of Prythian, all hot and bothered and messy. Dripping all over his strategy board—he’ll be having you lick that up later, when he has his fist in your hair and bent over the table.

He curses lowly, pressing to your entrance before sliding home, wings shuddering with pleasure as your nails press fully into the muscle of his back. He pulls back to look at you, feeling the heat practically rolling from your body, flaring with fire beneath his touch. “How do you want it?” He breathes lowly, starving hunger dancing a twisted rhythm in his eyes, hips pressed tight to your own, now secured deep inside your hot cunt.

“Your way,” you pant, bucking against him. “Just give it to me Cass.”

He growls, a half-feral sound as his hand splays across your chest, pinning you to the glass, getting off on how your nipples peak from the cold at your back, begging for him to put his teeth over. “We can be rougher later,” he breathes, palm pressing over your sternum, putting heat into your skin. “I need you to feel me feel in here,” he groans, hand dropping to your lower abdomen, pressing lightly, feeling himself move as he draws his hips back and slides in again.

A soundless moan spills from your lips, parting into a shape that on another occasion he’d love to put you on your knees for. He’d forgotten how fuckable your mouth is. How fuckable your cunt it. How fuckable you are in general, always singing for him to take you to his bed and attend to you until you’re soft and pliable beneath his war-roughened palms.

“Did you touch yourself while you were away?” He asks, feeling the hot wetness of your cunt wrapping around him, perfectly hugging him. You manage a shake of your head, fingers dancing in small patterns across the tops of his shoulders, occasionally risking dipping down—closer to his wings.

His large palm slides up between your breasts, carefully holding your throat, directing your attention upward and away from your joining point. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he breathes, hips moving languidly against your own. “Your voice is too pretty to be silent.”

“I— I didn’t…” you pant, clutching on as you grind against him, every sense keyed to his motions, bathing in pleasure.

Again he curses, more viciously than the last time.

A wicked grin twists the edge of his mouth. “At least your learned you lesson after last time,” he gloats lowly, cock pressing in fully, touching a spot inside of you that has you fumbling. “I’d hate to have to put you in those ties again, when you were so lovely and messy for me.”

You moan at his lewd description, heat ravishing your skin as the pace picks up a little, having you tighten around him with each time his cock brushes that spot. “Cassian,” you breathe needfully, reaching further down his back, wanting to urge him on. “Please.”

All plans in his mind are ripped to shreds with that single plea. When your scent had first drifted over to him, he’d had to take a moment to steel himself so he wouldn’t put his hands on you and fuck you into the floor the second he’d laid eyes on you. But then you’d come over to him, smelling so deliciously of arousal and distinctly like yourself he’d crumbled. Now you’re again asking for something, and he can’t find it in himself to deny you.

“Okay,” he groans, releasing you in favour of dropping his palms to your hips, pulling you back as he bucks forward. “Gotta take all of it though,” he drawls, pulse increasing as your scent thickens, arousal seeping into his lungs. “Every last drop. Can you do that for me?”

His hips roll, cock hitting that part that has you going dizzy, lips parting in soft gasps as he puts new heat into your body. Cassian chuckles, keeping the pace steady as he swipes the pad of his thumb over your clit, aching beneath his touch for stimulation, finally satiated. “S’pose it doesn’t matter, does it?” He laughs lowly, circling the sensitive bud. “You’ll take it either way.”

Your eyes nearly roll with pleasure at his words, panting and moaning for him to continue, something hot and syrupy bubbling away in the pit of your belly, having missed him so greatly. “Cass…” you breathe desperately, hands grappling for something to hold onto, feeling like you’re going to be swept away if he doesn’t let you touch him. “Cassian…”

He swears under his breath, low and viciously, releasing your hips in favour of lacing his fingers with your own, holding tight so he can buck against you properly. “That’s it sweetheart,” he groans, hazel piercing down into you. “Mm right here. You’re back now.” The words reach you on a deep sigh, coated in relief and exhaustion but you have no time to wonder what extremities he went to in order to preoccupy his busy mind.

Lips part as heat begins to coil tight, close to release from having gone so long without him, finally reunited after only a week. “Fuck, Cassian,” you cry out, head tipping back, baring your throat and chest for him as you arc from the board, disturbing a small band of warriors, sending them skating across the glass with a jerk.

“That’s it,” he grits out, “take it all. You’re back here with me again.” The demand has you releasing with a cry, nails biting into the brown, scar-flecked skin of his thick knuckles. The orgasm slams into you, taking you clean off your feet as tears build at the edges of your lashes, welling and spilling down onto the now-warm glass.

Cassian can hardly speak, staring at the arch of your spine, how well you’re taking him, the need and release lacing your body, turning you supple and taut in so many different places he hardly knows where to look. It’s enough to send him over the edge, finally allowing himself to temporarily shatter now you’ve reached your peak, free to topple over that edge with you, gripping tight.

Hot spurts of cum spill into you, so much you could swear you feel your tummy swell a little, hips dragging and bucking and grinding against you, eager to put his release deep inside of you, something primal and feral commanding him to fill you up until you’re dripping onto the glass board.

A high-pitched moan greets his ears, soft and sweet and wrapped in honey as it urges him closer to you, his powerful body curving over yours as the aftershocks fade, remaining deep inside as he kisses you thoroughly, mouth open, tongue flicking and stroking. It’s messy and not at all contained, quiet wet sounds squishing between your lips as you enjoy one another, his teeth gently nipping before soothing with his tongue.

You pant into the quiet when he pulls away, large hands cupping your cheeks as he stares down at you.

“Did I tell you I missed you?” He asks breathlessly, skin gleaming with heat, his arousal permeating the air. A wide smile stretches across your bitten, glossy lips. “I think you might’ve at some point,” you murmur, “between kissing me silly minutes within returning home and fucking me on top of your strategy board. We’ve gotten it all messy now.”

The grin he gives you is nothing short of wicked, having you tighten around him. “Cassian, no,” you murmur, trying to keep your smile to yourself. “Both of us need a shower and to clean off.”

He relents, grumbling as he pulls away, creating more of that mess as he spills out, but not before his fingers dip down, pressing it back in, shooting you a cocky look that has heat bursting all over again.

“And you had the nerve to say I was the trouble-maker,” you mutter, awkwardly shifting from the glass, trying not to create more to be cleaned up later.

“You started it,” he reminds lowly, hand squeezing your hind appreciatively. “I finished it.”

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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian smut #cassian x reader smut #on the strategy board

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jayflrt · 7 months

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𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 38. then who's flying the plane???

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SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.

#everything plot relevant is a starbucks marketing strategy #enhypen #enhypen smau #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung smau #heeseung imagines #enhypen imagines #lee heeseung #enhypen social media au #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #heeseung scenarios #enhypen scenarios #heeseung reactions #enhypen reactions #heeseung drabbles #enhypen drabbles

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ffverr · 13 days

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Scott every time he has to form a team:

#he has 70 pages of cyclops protocals dedicated to her abilities and the strategies that can stem from them #a magic user #a teleporter #great with weapons #she's a triple threat #too practicle #xmen #marvel #x men comics #comics #scott summers #illyana rasputin #magik #cyclops #xmen meme

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loveundrwrld · 3 months

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omg hiiiii i love ur writing smm <33 could i ask for a scenario of tanner x male reader where reader was super shy when he was bullied but years later tanner finds out he's somehow become a badass gang leader who wouldn't hesitate to beat his ex-bully up... i wonder what tanner's reaction would be to that hehe

also can i be 💖 anon? once again thank u <33

how sweet of you to say, thank you!! and to both your questions- yes, you may :) 💖 anon you shall be!

i will say, in his intro, seeing his darling act so reclusive and anxious after high school was what triggered him to rethink his actions- he wouldn't be quite as submissive towards him at first with his darling if he didn't go through that revelation. so tanner is a bit bitchy here since the "why is y/n acting like that"-> "oh no i've hurt him bad haven't i"-> "i'm in LOVE with him" process hasn't happened here.

thus, tanner is still in denial here :p and not as patient with his darling as he typically is

---

yandere ex-bully x gang leader male reader

(cws: violence (not against reader), organized crime, bullying, yandere is victim blaming, stalking)

tanner thought about you more often than he would ever care to admit. the shy, nervous boy he met in school who would cower from him like a scared puppy. something about you just made his hackles rise- he felt strange every time he'd seen you mumble and blush around him.

the strange feeling was annoyance, surely. you had been asking for attention, looking and acting the way that you did. you were always so shy and deferential around other people, always going along with being the butt of the joke. it was only natural that you were picked on a little.

but he'd matured since high school. he knew that bothering people and playing pranks on them was immature, no matter if you were basically asking for it. and if he'd seen you now he's sure you two would be polite and civil. you'd simply laugh and agree with him that he was a dick, and then you two could be best friends.

... or something. it wasn't like he thought about what meeting you again would be like.

and it was normal for people that went to the same high school to want to be curious about what their fellow past classmates had been up to, so he'd done some simple digging on you out of curiousity. nothing out of the ordinary. but you'd seem to have gone completely off the map, he'd not been able to find anything about you.

he was agitated that he couldn't learn more. he was worried for your safety, was all. i mean, you never posted anything online. for all he knew you could be dying or something. it was natural that he'd feel anxious right now.

but, he simply had to give up. he'd been trying to approach it from different angles, but he'd accepted that he'd reached a dead end.

except... until now. he was idly slouched over on the couch in front of his television, the news on as background noise. then, he perked up when he saw a familiar face come up on the screen.

it was your face that was glaring into the camera with a look of pure hatred, one that you certainly didn't have when he knew you.

good lord, what the hell happened to you?

"suspected gang activity in eastcliff- residents beware," the graphic read at the bottom of the screen.

he rushed to his laptop, wanting to check the arrest records for your shared state. he hadn't even considered this when he was looking up where you had been, it would have never have occurred to him that you would have gotten yourself in that much trouble.

and once the full report had loaded up? yes, it seemed that you actually were a criminal. you were arrested on a few charges but they got mysteriously dropped due to "unforeseen circumstances."

you hadn't been convicted of any felony charges yet, but he could tell that you were indeed involved in organized crime... somehow. and quite awfully high up in it, if you had corrupt police officers helping you escape any justice at all. it would have seemed like a laughable idea to him before, but he couldn't argue with what was right in front of him.

tanner scrunched his face up, his mind feeling blank from shock. how could this have happened? how could someone like you end up with such an... exciting life? how could you have turned out even more dangerous than him? his mouth felt dry, as a sense of bitterness seeped into him.

he didn't even know how to see what you were up to, to see why you turned out the way you did. surely you must have been forced into it. you couldn't have changed so much so fast otherwise. you were just a puppet with a nice face for the real people on top, obviously.

he felt a bit of bitter agitation, and tapped his leg as he thought. he couldn't live his whole life in mystery. he needed to know more about you.

there was one thing he could try...

---

it seems that his gambit to getting information about you had got your attention.

though, nothing could have prepared him from seeing you in front of him. you glared at him fiercely, your face so close to his that he felt your hot breath on his skin.

the eyes that used to be wide and quivering when you were younger were now narrowed and sharp. all he could see was the ice cold rage on your face. it was disorienting, to you someone shift into such a completely different person that you were nearly unrecognizable.

from a little puppy of a boy... to a fearsome wolf.

"of all the things you could do, tanner, you called my mother? don't you dare fuck with her," you growled at him, tugging hard at his shirt.

since when did you get balls? he felt that bubbling uneasy feeling he used to get whenever you were around him... only this time, it was stronger. he didn't like how this new you was effecting him.

you seemed much more dangerous than he was... and he didn't like it. wasn't it him who used to intimidate you? whatever happened to that?

he tried to laugh back at you, trying to stuff away any strange urges his brain was throwing at him.

"oh, come on- y/n, fuck with her? you're acting like i was trying to hurt her or something. i just called her. listen i know i was kind of a dick but really, you're making me out as the bad guy here and-"

you clocked him, hard on his temple. tanner stopped rambling and let out a small groan, the sharp throbbing pain causing him to fall down to one knee.

he opened his mouth to talk, but before he could say anything, you were already leaning down in his face.

"i don't want to hear from you ever again, you piece of shit. don't call or talk to me or my mother if you want all of your limbs intact. you may not know this, but i'm a big deal around here now. do not fuck with me," you say, your voice thick with anger.

for some reason... it felt like sparks and butterflies were running through him. something snapped inside his brain, connecting things. it occurred to him sudden why he had always felt so strange about you, why he was so obsessed with you.

you were hot. and this new you? strangely, he didn't dislike it at all.

"... got it," he said, breathily.

though, he didn't intend on keeping his promise.

#yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #tanner whitlock #male reader #i think tbh that this dynamic could be very interesting since tanner would have to rethink his strategy towards courting his darling #his instinct would usually have him want to act as a protector figure since he thinks strength is what he can bring to a relationship #but if his darling clearly is stronger/more dangerous he'll probably feel the need to switch things up quite a bit #though he’s still going to be whiny and desperate ala this scenario lol

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nelkcats · 1 year

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Consequences

When he felt compelled to take over as Robin in order to save Batman from himself, Tim didn't have high expectations; he didn't expect to be adopted by Bruce, he didn't expect to acknowledge the fact that his parents were abusive by leaving him alone for months, he didn't expect anyone to care if he ate or not, and in general he didn't expect to gain a family.

And for a while he thought that everything would get better: he gained brothers, he had a caring father, he had no financial problems or had gotten sick; And yes, maybe Robin's patrols were harsh at first, maybe Bruce's words when he was angry reached his heart and hurt him deeply, but he was fine.

Until he wasn't, at some point he felt more abandoned than ever even though he was surrounded by his family. When he was talking to his boyfriend, he realized that everyone took him into account but no one really appreciated what he did.

At first he didn't understand why Danny looked at him concerned and kept asking if he was okay while he told him an anecdote from his life as a vigilante; they had known each other for a while (Alfred had noticed, the others hadn't), they started talking, dating in coffee shops and even revealed the fact of being vigilantes after a few months on a relationship, that's when they started sharing anecdotes with each other.

Danny mentioned that he was being a hypocrite for caring so much about his stories when his were just as bad. Tim didn't get it until he started to see things from another perspective.

He never realized how much it hurted how Bruce had never thanked him for helping when he was lost in time, or how Dick avoided talking about his Robin time by concentrating on Damian, he thought he could understand but that didn't make it any better, Jason's nickname was beginning to make sense.

He didn't realize how broken he felt when Jason tried to kill him and blamed him; He was his childhood hero, Tim loved Robin because Jason put him in the stars, however, no matter how many times he explained to his brother that the only reason he had taken the suit was because he had no choice, and that he felt forced to blackmail Batman to be his Robin before Bruce became what he hated most. Jason still didn't care, still called him Replacement over and over again, blaming.

Or Damian who kept trying to kill him, refusing to acknowledge him, and when he defended himself he ended up getting reprimanded. Not even Bruce thanked him for all the work he did in taking over the company as CEO. His entire family went on with their lives without repercussions.

Maybe he was being naive as he refused Danny's requests to run away from home and stay with him, at least for a few days so they would miss him. He felt like a broken record repeating the phrase "it's okay, they're trying, they can change", the look on his boyfriend's face told him he wasn't doing a good job on believing his own words.

The mansion made him feel small at times, ignored; it was fortunate that Alfred was actually paying attention to him and offering a cup of hot chocolate at such moments.

At some point he couldn't take it anymore, Jason and Damian's comments had gone too far, Bruce's lack of response along with Dick's laughter commenting that they weren't saying it in a bad way only made him angry, so he left the cave and called to Danny, he told him it was time to go.

He said goodbye to Alfred, Cass, Duke and Steph who had generally not contributed to his decision, and he regretted that he couldn't stay longer to get to know them better, but the damage had been building up for a long time.

He wrote a letter detailing his reasons to the rest of the family, leaving along some clues to let them know that he had left of his own free will and they wouldn't be able to find him even if they wanted to, he sighed as his anger turned to resignation.

"Are you ready?" Danny questioned, taking his hand gently as they walked out of the mansion.

"Ready as I'll ever be"

That's how Timothy Jackson Drake said goodbye to his home dimension and headed to the infinite realms, of course he was going to sneak in a couple of times to help his friends but never when his family is around. He hadn't expected the life in the palace or the marriage proposal that came years later, but although the place was gigantic, Tim felt good in it, comfortable, appreciated.

Time in the Realms passed quite quickly, unlike his original dimension, so years for him were a couple of months for his family.

He found it ironic that Danny was summoned as the Ghost King by Ra, who had the nerve to order the "creature" to give him the secrets of the Lazarus pits, offering the Batclan as sacrifices. Tim looked at the time portal connected to his home dimension (That Clockwork had given him to watch his family and friends, even if he was upset he was not going to let them die) wondering if he should interfere.

It was decided when Danny called Fright Knight to deal with the nuisance that was Ra, and he accompanied him as a royal adviser (regardless of his second title as ruler, he actually liked being a part of strategizing better and Danny was happy to give in to his wishes).

With a weary sigh he crossed the portal and began to recite Ra's crimes, indicating how he had damaged the balance between life and death since he corrupted the ectoplasm on the Lazarus pits to extend his life at the same time that Frighty stopped the man.

No one in the room bothered to pay attention to the stupefied bats who were watching the missing member of his family, but years older, that apparently was the Ghost King royal adviser. They tried to call him but Tim just gave them an annoyed look before continuing with his work.

By the time Fright Knight took Ra completely chained through the portal, they finally saw the ghost king move, he started kissing Tim's face repeatedly, which had turned his frown into laughter.

The moment they finally processed the scene they both disappeared, and well, weren't those the consequences of their own actions?

----

Thanks to @unadulteratedsoulsweets for the general idea, I enjoyed writing this! Even if it ended up a little bigger than I expected

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avery-the-asexual · 10 months

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Derek, after an argument: God your such a pain the ass.

Stiles: that's not what you were saying last night.

Derek: oh God.

Stiles: that's more like it.

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek #incorrect teen wolf quotes #incorrect teen wolf #stiles stilinski x derek hale #sterek au #stiles x derek #stiles and derek #stiles is a top #derek is a bottom #derek just looking for an exit strategy out of the convo

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maeve-99 · 1 month

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Kotallo asking Aloy to accompany him to test out his new mechanical arm and then killing a machine together is really just the Tenakth way of taking someone out on a date.

You can't convince me otherwise.

#He was like “she didn't take the hint when I told her I'll give her what's left of my life I guess I need to try a different strategy."#bonding by machine-killing #sounds like something a Tenakth would do #horizon forbidden west #kotaloy #aloy x kotallo #tenakth date #here I am still wondering if romance was at one stage part of the game's concept #so many interactions and scenes feel like it was #not just with kotallo but other characters too #kotallo #if we can't romance him in the 3rd game I'll be really sad

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andaniellight · 1 year

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Soap:

Price:

Price: I told you that man (Ghost) is difficult to get rid off of

Soap, about to flip a rack and the table because ever since Mexico Ghost won't leave him the fuck alone because he's the one who started annoying Ghost first: I THOUGHT YOU MEANT IT'S DIFFICULT TO KILL HIM ON THE FIELD!?

#GhostSoap #SoapGhost #Ghost (off-frame): [about meeting Soap] oh yeah it was annoyance at first sight for me #Ghost: But since he wants to play this game so why not use and reverse the strategy back to him #Ghost: cause that's definitely funnier. I'm his LIEUTENANT.#Alejandro (from behind him mouthing): and his babygirl-#anyways. Soap has patience as thin as paper towel #Ghost x Soap #Soap x Ghost #Simon Ghost Riley #John Soap MacTavish #Soap MacTavish #Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2 #COD #Call of Duty

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forza55 · 2 months

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Sebastian Vettel thinking about F1 return... | Sky Sports F1 via Youtube

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mixtapedoh · 2 months

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How about lonely boy, lee know, and forced proximity?

@eclliipsed — i am thinking of you, specifically while writing this <3

;༊ — lonely boy

pairing: lee minho x gn!reader genre: fluff, office setting word count: ~3.6k warnings: language, situational stress, han is here stirring the pot, a startling amount of homicide jokes

olive’s notes: a unique challenge of writing lino fic that i did not before account for or even conceptualize is that when i think of said silly little stray kids cat boy, i think of him almost 99% of the time as 'lino' and like 0.9999999999% of the time as 'lee know'. lee minho? you mean the actor? it's not clicking up here, asdfghj. all that's to say, if i make a mistake and call him lino instead of minho, i'm so sorry, feel free to stone me in the square on whatever day is most convenient for you <3.

☄. *. ⋆ lee minho x forced proximity...

— society, as a collective, just loves their 9 to 5, right?

i mean, if it were actually a 9 to fucking 5, maybe you wouldn't be screaming, crying, throwing up, gnawing on the iron bars of your enclosure.

— but haha, as a general rule (collectively agreed upon at some point, or perhaps no one agreed so much as they were browbeaten into submission), more than society loves their 9 to 5, they love their workplace grindset culture.

gotta get those financial gains, amirite?

— which is all to say, you were simply enamoured, quite totally besotted with, completely captivated by and hopelessly devoted to your demanding, grueling, parasitic life-force of an office job.

and people had the gall to say you didn't have romance in your life.

clearly, they hadn't seen the zeal and devotion with which you dedicated yourself to your company issued computer, stacks of files, and white-walled cubicle.

after all, regular hours simply weren't enough for all the worship you had within you — you simply had to have both your mandatory overtime and your Implicitly Dictated and Oh-So-Reasonably Expected overtime hours as well <3 you did want to keep your job after all, and job security is such a silly little thing <3 corporate culture really is just soooo romantic in that regard <3 complete and utter devotion <3 commitment almost pious <3

until you managed to break away from the curse of Living in a Society and could live without bills, debt, responsibilities, more bills, more debt, and the desire for silly little (but financially substantial) hobbies to make this existence of yours worthwhile, your love affair with your job would simply have to stick.

— which made for the perfect little soup you were currently mired in. a thick broth of learned helplessness seasoned with intense loathing, a dash of interest in low stakes coworker drama, a sprinkling of compulsory people pleasing, a garnish of yes man energy, and an optional mix-in of untapped, constantly simmering rage.

so, of course you were best friends with han jisung.

— the universe really did do you a solid when they placed han jisung in the cubicle next to you.

perhaps the only employee that hadn't succumbed to the incessant humanity-sucking leech affectionately called a company, jisung was the only one who kept you sane when you were 56 hours deep in your work week and considering moving to a homestead on alaska where you would likely not even last a whole 72 hours — but, hey, you would at least get some sleep at the end of it when succumbing to the effects of hypothermia, so it didn't seem that bad of a gig, really (jisung always offered to cover half of the down payment cost, but at the end of the conversation, he'd just buy you a coffee and the two of you would call it even).

— and being friends with jisung was, all at once, both a blessing and a curse.

(because this is corporate living and existence is a fucking nightmare ~°~♫⭒~꘎ )

— poor excuses for jokes in your company chat box, sticky note battles during days when the mundane tasks you were assigned were mind-numbing enough to fell the strongest of corporate warriors, the constant "i owe you" back and forth when one of you went on a coffee or vending machine run and grabbed something for the other, and, of course, juicy gossip during your lunch break — all of these were the positives of being jisung's partner in captalist crime.

— but on the other hand, should either of your work be wanting in any regard... well... accountability is a word long enough to stretch between two.

— which led you to your current state of affairs.

"the next time you forget to delete your 'tongue-in-cheek' speaker notes on the powerpoint we're submitting for review from higher ups, i'm breaking your fingers so you can't type them in the first place."

but of course jisung just turns it into a joke about a hand kink.

— your punishment for 'distasteful' jokes left in the margins of official company output wasn't anything too severe — bless whatever cosmic force made it so that the generally easy going mr. ok taecyeon was the one to see jisung's fuck up, and not someone less forgiving — but it meant the next few weeks would be hell in the form of grunt work.

see, your company was expanding in the industry, and it meant that the building you were currently working in wasn't big enough to house all the ✨aspirational goals✨ it was just starting to believe in. thus, the majority of higher ups were going to move into a new office building... and for some ass-backward reason, so, too were all of the archives.

and someone had to go down there and box it all up, making sure it was properly labeled and in order.

sure, the company was just head-empty enough to have the desire to move physical archives to a new office building. but at least they wanted it all in order before they stuck it in a different dusty basement.

— the very first day you went to the basement and saw the sheer level of work the two of you had in store, you locked eyes with jisung and just knew that fucker was going to find some way to get out of it.

— on your lunch break you tried to beat him to the punch and defend your honor against the soul crushing weight of undue punishment. but alas! you had already taken vacation days in the last month (damn that kpop concert - did you really have to be that devoted to your ult group??) and han hadn't had a day off for the last 6 months.

how the hell did you end up doing the punishment work for actions that weren't even (mostly) yours?

han jisung better move to that alaskan homestead after all, nowhere else would ever be safe from your wrath... once you got out of this basement, of course.

— the most you were given was help in the form of lee minho — who would have thought that he of all people would be your saving grace?

maybe he'd help you plan jisung's murder. they were friends, true, but anyone who was around han long enough would not be opposed to plitting his demise. it was part of his elusive charm, after all. everything wonderful about him also lent itself to fodder for plotting his demise.

convenient, really, given the circumstances you were in.

— but back to lee minho. perfect performance lee minho. always last to leave the office lee minho. infuriatingly not suffering from looking chronically fatigued or daunted, overwhelmed, or simply fazed by the overzealous work culture you found yourselves in, lee minho. curt and focused but lacking of an edge that would make him unapproachable lee minho. impossible to pin down, the vitruvian man of corporate dreams, somehow the bosses favorite despite failing to do any of the sucking up some of your other coworkers engaged in almost religiously lee minho.

he didn't frustrate you; he didn't even really baffle you, but he didn't exactly occupy your brainspace in a way that could be described as indifference, y'know?

maybe this was something you could blame of jisung, too. he always talked about minho an ungodly amount, waxed poetic about how it was a shame that minho worked in a different department — how the two of you really would get along famously, but damn, if he couldn't convince either of you to spend any of your (perhaps two (2)) hours of off-duty life in the same place at the same time.

social lives, after all, were laughable, where the both of you were concerned.

— the day you walked down there and saw minho already elbow deep in a filing cabinet seemingly older than your parents (which, lamentably, was the worst organized filing cabinet you'd ever seen, and was regrettably representative of 95% of the work ahead of you), you laughed out loud and took the moment to convince minho to take a picture for you, so you could tell jisung that he was missing the Historic and Long Anticipated Meet Up, and that was the moment you realized that you were so deep in the basement, phone service was a pipe dream.

it wasn't a concern, really — you were both benefiting from the random employee benefit of free spotify premium, so your downloaded content was enough to get you through the long hours of organizing and packing, and hey! being in the basement meant no one really expected any more out of you than your required hours and whatever mandatory overtime you had left to complete.

— so really, jisung had been stupid as hell to avoid this punishment. it was effectively less work than you were used to (though tedious) and you were far enough away from your desk that the thought of the work piling up in the world above wasn't eating at you that much (at least not any more than usual; workplace anxiety and you were well acquainted, at that point <3)

— and minho! — god forbid you say anything complementary about that bastard han jisung while he left you (more than) 6 feet under, doing work that was, by many rights, his punishment — but he had been right when he said you and minho would gel.

he didn't disturb you, for the most part, but working in the same space for full work days with nothing to do but listen to podcasts and check the dates on dusty files meant that Annoying The Only Other Person In Your Vicinity became a welcome distraction from wallowing in the fact you were moving at a pace slower than desired. and he responded quite well to any question you threw his way - no matter how brain-dead, invasive, or embarrassing. in fact, he'd hit something back - put the ball in your court in a question almost more ridiculous, leaving you to question how jisung hadn't forced the two of you together sooner (but fuck jisung; all my homies are blaming this comedy of errors on jisung and are in this basement actively plotting his demise).

— and it didn't take you long to realize charming minho is almost exactly like getting a neighborhood cat to endear itself to you.

pspspsps at random (bat a stupid ass joke his way);

give him space but respond to his random bids for attention;

have a snack drawer (one of the first emptied out file cabinets furthest to the back of the archival area) and occasionally offer something sweet as a reminder that the snack drawer exists and is for joint indulging;

entertain him with logic puzzles and psychological warfare;

and, of course, shit talk your coworkers and company.

indulge the cats desire for destruction and mayhem; tell minho that whenever he was ready to put in his two-weeks, you'd be right there beside him and would run the paper shredder all night while he corrupted the files.

exist calmly and comfortable in the cat's space; work so well in tandem that you began anticipating the movements of the other.

spend quality time with the cat; both of you begining to wordlessly take your lunches at the table in the archival basement, instead of going all the way back up to the cafeteria, choosing instead to chat with each other and indulge in the other's niche interests and stupidly staunch opinions on poor pieces of media.

slow blink at the cat; catch yourself staring for a bit too long when he doesn't notice you looking, your thoughts getting all muffled and sappy as you become wholly fascinated by the slope of his nose and the softness of his big, dark eyes that look perpetually half-bored at work but sparkle with intelligence and mischief when you call out his name — lighting up with interest and disguised delight as that lazy, gummy smile makes it's way onto his features, eyebrows quirking upward, already expecting a challenge and...

— wait... what was that?

— is there absestos in the company walls, and that's why they decided to randomly move buildings? is there lead lining these filing cabinets? black mold in the ceiling? were you perhaps inhaling narcotics in this dusty ass air and hallucinating something vivid?

you were not developing a crush on someone just because you were stuck in the basement with this fool for going on two weeks now and hadn't seen another good looking coworker in quite some time. this wasn't some kind of drama where the ceo has a strange delight in forcing company employees into situations laced with ✨sexual tension✨. you weren't a main lead suffering from romantic withdrawals. remember your leech of a company. you have no time for shit like that.

— but, i mean, if you're never out of the office, perhaps finding romance in office is a solution...

shut the fuck up, you and minho weren't even in the same department. that point was moot.

— because damn, maybe asbestosis really was getting to you, and that's what was knocking the wind out of you any time minho smiled. yes, certainly the absestos in the walls was what was informing the way your heart constricted whenever the two of you brushed hands passing a file between you. maybe you should sue your company and have some hospital use you as a case study. maybe all the distracted daydreams was a new symptom of your newly contracted deadly disease.

see, that would make sense. you weren't catching a mean case of crushing on your forced proximity coworker, you were simply dying. because of the absestos.

— but even still, the day both of you piled all the boxes of (appropriately lableled) filing into a work car, and minho drove you over to the new building, the fresh air didn't seem to be a cure all. you were still a little more than distracted by his messy hair and black sunglasses... his concentration on the road... his pushed up sleeves... not to mention his hands wrapped around the steering wheel.

(but of course you'd snap out of your thoughts when you remember that joke jisung made about your supposed hand kink at the beginning of all this nonsense. shut the fuck up, memory ghost jisung. you don't know shit. you and minho had already talked about it and were coming for his broke ass the day he had the courage to step foot in the office again.)

— yeah, haha, you weren't crushing on lee minho because of a comedy of errors you had never dreamed would befall you in the first place. working alongside him hadn't woken anything in you. certainly not.

— and yeah, haha, you'd definitely be able to hide this from jisung when he came back. not a problem at all when he asks you about how sorting archives went (he had the gall to bring it up every five minutes — taunting you with the fact that he got to have 4 days off and was then reassigned to do answer all the emails that had piled up during his time out of office. yes, he had picked up some of the work originally meant to go to you, but still. a veritable traitor who deserved your absence from your usual lunch dates. and yes, it was hard to be slick when he'd bring up your casual absence from lunch — were you finding minho's company to be more than enough? — but you'd manage. like hell were you going to give the smug bastard satisfaction after he made you atone for his and also your crimes.).

— and yeah, haha, you'd would definitely be able to explain to a suspicious and put out jisung why you were canceling anime re-run night with him to instead go with minho to this hybrid cat-and-comic-book-cafe he had mentioned never being able to get a reservation for, despite living two blocks away from it. silly little things like that would be easy to wave away, right.

it's like, totally platonic for you and minho to meet up on your only day off to spend hours lounging at a cafe retreat together where you cooed at semi-sociable cats and joked about adopting and co-parenting the one who enjoyed wearing cute hats, and read comic books for hours and order food to share and have low-stakes debates about the best tropes and characters of shared beloved media.

it's not like that whole set up is incredibly date coded.

and it's not like it would become a recurring habit for minho to invite you to do things with him that would have jisung waggling his eyebrows even as you pleaded innocence and smacked him with whatever quasi-weapon you just so happened to have on your desk (mostly file folders and your favorite cat themed mini calendar).

— haha... it wasn't like you were down bad and incredibly bad at hiding your crush.

...right?

— you fool. you absolute buffoon. han jisung could smell your lies and poorly contained crush from thousands of leagues away. even if you weren't shit at hiding it, he would have known. he could have actually been on that remote homestead in alaska and still picked up on just how brain dead you were over your crush. you thought you were slick? when han jisung has a doctorate in anxious suspicion and twelve master's degrees in the art of bullshitting?

hell, he knew you were going to fall in love with minho before the two of you even met. why do you think he'd wanted to connect the two of you in the first place? because he thought you two needed a social life? please — he knew going in that putting the two of you in the same room was horrible for his self preservation; he knew it was practically undermining company goals because your joint productivity would fall 2000% and the amount of cat memes you two would send on company time would increase so exponentially, you'd both resort to making your own memes using your company paid subscription to adobe creative cloud; he knew that the two of you were almost scarily well matched and equally devoted to drinking your refusal-to-believe-i-can-be-loved-romantically juice.

he knew that you and minho would develop glaring crushes on each other and wouldn't do a damn thing about it beyond smoothly flirting for an afternoon, inviting the other out on dates-that-aren't-dates and promptly fake-gagging and denying in a manner almost theatric that you might *gasp* enjoy the other's company in a way not-so-platonic, only to do it all over again. a vicious cycle of 'stop feeding the rest of us lies and just kiss with tongue already, damnit.' and he knew all of your coworkers would be caught in the middle of it.

— which they were. for, like, a solid five months.

— now, it wasn't too bad, considering the fact that you and minho worked in different departments, but anytime there was cause for collaboration, suddenly you were clambering to be considered, no matter the intense workload or the way the task was slightly out of your wheelhouse. suddenly, it seemed you were incredibly eager to learn and prove yourself.

at first, your team leader was overjoyed. initiative? drive? a seeming zest and fire for more commitment? say less and do more! marry yourself to the dumbass collaboration with the other department! perhaps this could mean freedom for their long suffering servitude under the corporate thumb!

but then they saw you flirting with minho and making plans to spend an afternoon together at a book signing while still on the clock. and while they're not opposed to a bit of misuse of company time (vive la révolution contre les régimes capitalistes, and all that), it was a bitter and sobering pill to watch that shit happen daily while not getting any yourself, and then stomaching the fact that these clearlly love-struck fuckers won't admit their own transparency-set-to-0% feelings and put their chronically-single corporately-suffering coworkers to rest. either say you're in love and just be done with it or take the rest of us out with a shot gun. goddamn.

it's like a sitcom's mind-numbingly over-the-top valentine's day special. someone make it stop.

— and it didn't take a genius to connect the dots and realize that the employee responsible for all of this was han jisung.

after all, he's the mutual friend between them. no doubt he talked about the other constantly in glowing terms. no doubt he planted the seed they'd be a match made in heaven. no doubt he was the one to blame.

and! wasn't it his fuck up that forced you and minho to work together in the archives to begin with?

maybe killing han jisung wasn't going to make you and minho confess to each other, but it would be some kind of catharsis for the people who were stuck in this hell of Watching You Two Take Your Sweet Time With It.

— so jisung had to understandably think of some kind of plot. after all, the two of you were his best friends, but to hope that you would admit your feelings for someone to save his livelihood? don't be ridiculous. the both of you were quite happy with the flirting stage, as it currently stood.

— how to get your stubborn friends to admit their (very real and very reciprocated) feelings for each other... when there's no external or even internal pressure (on them, at least) to do so... jisung would have to think outside of the box.

or perhaps inside of it.

— which i'm sure is reason enough to explain how the both of you managed to get stuck in a closet during your company's holiday party.

and, through it all, is minho's mischievous eyes and your flair for the dramatic.

"do you think we should tell our coworkers we've been dating?"

☄. *. ⋆

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#olive.writes #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz imagine #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know imagine #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee minho imagine #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #yeah i still dk fully how to tag but hey; my other headcanon set did good so maybe i'm doing something right #also hi please tell me if you've ever been personally attacked by nosy coworkers and what your coping strategy is #mine is also compulsory and pathologically lying so i feel like lino and i understand each other that much at least

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