#crushin' tag

[writing-house-of-m]

Crushin'

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word count: 1,100

Summary: You get caught staring at your crush

A/N: I did have some angst I wanted to post today but I don't like it so you get some of the sweetest fluff I've written because I found it in my docs lol

You don't know what it is but Wanda looks different today.

You were standing in the kitchen area when she walked past.

With Nat obstructing her view, she didn't see the small group standing some meters away from where she took a seat with Nat.

You haven't been able to look away. Your crush for her deepening everyday but today she's glowing. You don't get how someone can look the way she does.

Steve's words have turned into white noise as you look at the auburn woman.

She must feel someone's eyes on her because she abruptly turns her head to see you.

You make eye contact so she smiles at you and you give a quick smile back feeling your cheeks heat up. She turns back so she continue her conversation with the black widow.

After getting caught staring you realise you should turn your attention back to the men in front of you.

Two pairs of eyes are waiting for you.

Only hearing the last word from the Captain, you rush out your words, "I'm not distracted."

He furrows his eyebrows, confused, "What?"

You really have to get it together.

Sam smiles because he knows you weren't paying attention.

"What?" You question.

With the same puzzled look he explains once more, "What do you think about Sam and me asking Nat to accompany us to infiltrate while you and Tony cause the distraction?"

He relaxes his face into one of sympathy as he continues, "If you're not up for something like this so close to returning to the field, I'm sure we can ask someone else to take your place. Possibly Yelena? I know she's been looking for more work."

"No!" You blurt out. "No. I'm fine. I'm ready," You exclaim.

Now that you're caught up and understand what's going on, you exhale, "I think that's a great idea, it will mean less of a risk of you guys getting into a firefight," you nod, finishing your conclusion.

Steve, still concerned about your well-being, asks, "And you're sure you're alright? That you're definitely up for this?"

"Yes, definitely. I've spent too much time in the compound, I need to stretch my legs," you reply with a scoff.

You get a chuckle from the other two men then the three of you split up after Steve says he'll speak to Tony and Nat.

The mission isn't for another few days so you spend the rest of your day between the gym and the medical wing, getting yourself ready and making sure you feel one hundred percent.

All the while, the witch hasn't left your mind.

Her smile. Her eyes. The way her nose scrunches up. She's irresistible, taking your breath away each time you see her.

That evening when you're in your room towel-drying your hair you hear your door open.

"I caught you staring again earlier," Wanda speaks with a smirk as she closes the door. She continues as she walks over to you, "but it was the weirdest thing, I couldn't hear anything in your mind, detka."

You grin as you rub the back of your neck. Looking to the ground for a second and meeting her eyes again the next.

Admittedly, your mind does tend to go blank when you see her.

As she gets close to you, you put your towel on the bed. Wrapping your arms around her waist she moves hers around your neck as you both share a short, sweet kiss.

You rest your forehead against hers and speak lowly, "Well I have something to confess," you can't help the smile on your face.

"Yeah? What's that?" Wanda replies, with her own bright smile.

You pull back slightly so you can look her in the eye better as you speak, "I have the biggest crush on you, Mrs Maximoff-Y/l/n."

Wanda lets out a soft laugh through her nose, as if it were possible her smile turns brighter and wider, "And here I was worried you were having second thoughts about going back out on a mission."

It's your turn to scoff. You give her another peck on the lips, "Well, as much fun as it has been you nursing me back to health," you move your hands to place them over her stomach, "one of us has to work so we can finally move out of here before this one arrives."

Wanda had been exhausted with all the prodding over months of different trials in an attempt for her to get pregnant.

The day the two of you found out she was pregnant you were elated. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be here, falling in love, married and now making your own family.

"Then, milaya, you should be paying attention to what your teammates are saying," she says in jest as she remembers your facial expression when you thought you got caught looking at your wife, "I saw you all flustered."

"I wouldn't say I was flustered," you say, knowing you weren't fooling anyone.

Taking advantage of your closeness you lean in again kissing her a little longer than before.

"I love you little witch, and I already love this little witch too," you rub Wanda's slightly swollen belly, "even if they are giving you a hard time."

"I'm sorry honey, but if this little one gets your puppy dog eyes, I might have to take their side over yours," you speak your mind as you think of the possible mischief this child may bring.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, "Ah, I should have known I was going to lose you to this little one," she jokes as she places her hands over yours. "I owe Nat a dollar, she said you would be a sucker and take the kid's side."

"Damn that woman! Is she always going to undermine me?" You say, smiles never leave either of your faces. "I guess I will have to work even harder if Nat is going to keep getting a dollar out of you."

Pulling away, Wanda heads to the bathroom, "Alright, that's enough about finances. Let's go to bed," she finishes for the both of you.

As you lay in bed with Wanda already asleep in your arms, staring at the ceiling, you think about a life with your wife and your newborn, a smile never leaving your face.

Eventually you fall asleep to thoughts of chaotic breakfasts and peaceful nap times.

Little did you know, this one baby was in fact two. And no amount of training would get you ready for the mission that was your family.

[grapedemon]

Man I love animal crossing so much

Anyways, new Jash songs are AMAZING!!

(and the old one from years ago ^^)

✨Funky villager Jash✨

[synthshenanigans]

New video new fit :}

[Theres multiple skin tones too!!! also theres other stuff below to look at!]

The person who drew the art for the video also made one!!!! Go grab that one too!!!!!!

Also have lil extra pictures of my lil guy :}

[I didn't have a guitar or drumset so synth it is its some synth shenanigans you could say haha im funny]

Extra ACNH CJ outfits update: Im almost done with THDPH! The shirt details are kinda difficult but im almost there. Funky Jash fit is also being worked on :}

[rexscanonwife]

Honestly idk if this is just normal for ppl who play it but I can feel Pikmin becoming a special interest 0_0 I play it ALL the time, my tiktok algorithm is picking it up and almost every YouTube video I throw on is related to it

I'm sorry to everyone but especially my partner for how annoying I'm boutta get ajfjgkgng

[gurorori]

tbh been considerin the transfеminine label lot more lately n_n i still don closely identify with any transX labels realy since our presentation fluctuates sumtimes n our collective goals r still unclear but 4 myself, i guess.

[superat626]

Sometimes you just wanna thank the inspirational hothead for all the joy they bring in your life.

[haunted-headset]

Ok hear me out… scare actor reader and Wilbur who just wanted to go to a haunted house and then boom he’s like “oh no. The serial killer is pretty” you can use ur imagination for the rest this is just the caffeine talking to me with fanfic ideas :)

🔪 Is That Too Scary for You? 🔪

Summary: Headcanons about how Wilbur would act if he saw you, the reader, being pretty & a fake serial killer in a haunted house

A/N: HOLY SHIT. I LOVE THIS IDEA! Again, very sorry that it's only headcanons (idk if I'm even using the right term anymore lol), I'm extremely burnt out & tired rn. also tysm for the asks! it's been keeping me busy af & i love it! Also, the title was based off of the song I Think I'm Okay =)

pairing: CC!Wilbur x afab!actor!reader

pronouns used for reader: She/her/hers

tags: @vibestillaxxx @joviepog @ax-y10 @themonsterunderurmom @wilburstan @smolsleepykitten @funnyreally2009 @crows-death @thewheelersgaygaragelights @dykepunz @aresriiots @0miamor0 @cathers-world @defonotval @chipch0p @mazzistar16 @unmellowyellowfellow @justalittlebitofchaos @thosecolorfulsheets @vopix @taylors-version-from-the-vault @aine-lasagna @merianakross @veeislost @urfav-sapphic-siren (pls let me know if you do/don't want to be tagged!)

warnings/cw: scary stuff, reader is a scare actor (you're basically a fake serial killer), fake blood, the people with Wilbur & Tommy on the vlog getting jumpscared, reader pretending to k!ll Wilbur, Wilbur having a dream about the reader

genre: fluff/horror

Wilbur would probably be accompanied by the Sorry Boys for a Tom Simons vlog

Wilbur probably wouldn't want to go in the first place because he;d get scared easily

So when they do get inside the haunted house, they learn that everyone who's in the haunted house now becomes part of a challenge. They now have to escape the haunted house without being killed by any of the creatures/ghosts or you, the serial killer. It's basically just an escape room

When he first hears your menacing voice behind him, he stops walking. Not out of fear, but out of awe.

↑↑ You laughed creepily. "It seems I have some visitors here today..." Wilbur stopped in his tracks & Tommy turned the camera towards Wilbur. He was staring at you in awe. "Wilbur, stop being a simp & run!" Tommy laughed, pulling Wilbur away from you. "...Tommy, the serial killer's hot."

He basically tried to find any way to bring the group closer to you. He thought you were really pretty.

Would definitely 'die' first just to hang out with you

If you pinned him to the wall to 'k!ll' him, he would be so fcking flustered

↑↑ "Nowhere left to run..." you chuckled. You stabbed two of your fake knives into his shirt sleeves to pin him to the wall. "Any last words?" & Wilbur would be crushin' & blushin' so damn hard as he said, "Honestly? Uh you're really pretty & I kinda want your number if it isn't too much to ask-"

He ended up letting you 'k!ll' him so that you could bring him to where the people who were eliminated stayed until the attraction was over & you two just talked for an hour or so

& then you were stabbing him to death in his dreams <3

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Hey bestie any zutara fic recs. I feel like I’ve read all the classics.

Hello anon! Oh boy have you come to the right place because I have read several million words of these two dorks falling in love and though I plan to read several million more, I am always down to screech about talented fanfic writers!!! Here are most of my faves, some of which you’ve probably read but my enthusiasm simply needs an outlet. No WIPs to minimize heartbreak.

In the spirit of not recommending too many classics, I’m not including anything from the first page of the Katara/Zuko tag on AO3 sorted by kudos, with one exception. Same rule does not apply to FF.net because nobody visits that site anymore, yet we mustn’t forget our roots!!! 

TL;DR of my Zutara Fic Recs: 

Half Asleep for a Miyazaki-esque adventure romance 

Southern Lights for a sweeping epic where A Song of Ice and Fire meets Middlemarch

Refraction for a swoon-worthy post-war political romance ft. Katara learning how to politick in a patriarchal world 

Stormbenders for a fun undercover romance that is a ZK classic for a very good reason 

Another Word for Alchemy and The Slow Path for hilarious yet emotionally compelling adventures with found family themes 

The Undying Fire for world-building, more Gaang shenanigans, and super satisfying slow canon divergence 

Katara Alone for our fave girl’s post-war Bildungsroman/travelogue/heroic tour

Simple Misunderstanding for a hilarious rendition of Ponytail Zuko capturing Katara and trying to not be a creep

Clothe Me in Seasons, Dress Me in Snow for a mostly canon-compliant (so, v angsty) story about the different ways that love can evolve 

And some one-shots and modern AUs I feel like deserve some more love 

Summaries, reviews, and general fangirling under the cut because holy shit this post is long lmao 

Long fics / series: 

Half Asleep, by crushinator | Rating: T | Word Count: 82,335

Summary: Five years after the Hundred-Year War, Fire Lord Zuko is hit with an assassin's dart, and falls into a coma from which he cannot wake. A week passes, and his prognosis is grim. But Katara could swear she hears him in her dreams.

My thoughts: this fic, in many ways, is novel quality. The pacing? Immaculate. The action scenes? Exciting and interesting yet super easy to visualize. The characterization? On point. Katara is peak Miyazaki heroine in this, setting out on a quest to the Spirit World to save her boy (who’s not really her boy) from whichever Eldritch horror has him in its clutches. I love the little glimpses we have of the mutual pining between Katara and Zuko, and there are no words to describe how much I love the resolution of Katara and Aang’s relationship in this story. And oh boy, is the climax of the fic super romantic. This is just a really well written, emotionally compelling, tight fic. Deserves to be a fandom classic. 

Southern Lights, by colourwhirled | Rating: M | Word Count: 769,274

Summary: A world where the Avatar has disappeared from memory. Where Sozin’s Conquest was successful. Where the unsteady order of the empire is threatened as members of the royal family are picked off one by one and lines are slowly drawn in the sand One last chance for peace forces an unlikely alliance between a homesick waterbender, a carefree Air Nomad, a runaway Earth Kingdom heiress, and the fire lord's inscrutable son. Together they must learn to shed old enmities and become the balance they seek to restore to the world.

OR:

The avatar has four heads.

My thoughts: Is it a Bildungsroman? Is it a war story? Is it a politics story? Is it a love story? Is it a friendship story? Is it a story about colonial violence and well-meaning complicity and finding justice in a world where it simply doesn’t seem to exist? Yes to all of the above, because at 700k+ words YOU CAN HAVE IT ALL. You know how Virginia Woolf once said that Middlemarch is one of the few novels written for grownups? Well, Southern Lights feels adult, not because of violence or sex or general grimness (looking at you, HBO), but because it’s fundamentally about having the courage to make choices, live with the consequences, and make more choices, and repeat that over and over again. If Katara is a Miyazaki heroine in Half Asleep, she is full on Daenarys (pre-character assassination) in Southern Lights, a heroine who gets put through her paces yet retains her unwavering resilience to find her place in the world. Katara can be pretty frustrating in this and I know a lot of the commenters on this fic wanted to smack her up the head halfway through, but I support women’s rights and women’s wrongs and her decisions make sense to me even when I also want to smack her for them, and isn’t that a symptom of good writing? I count my lucky stars that I joined the ATLA fandom after this fic is finished (which was only last year!) because I got to binge it in a few days and I have not been the same person since. Deserves classic status. 

Refraction, by caroe3725 | Rating: E | Word Count: 215,249

Summary: Making choices after the war was supposed to be the easy part. Her future decided and neatly packaged based on what everyone else wanted for her, what she should want, too. But Katara’s destiny had a funny way of being exactly what she wanted to run from. (As if anyone needed another Zutara post-finale slow burn after 15 years.)

My thoughts: YES WE DEFINITELY NEEDED ANOTHER POST-WAR ZK SLOWBURN OF SUCH IMMACULATE QUALITY. Both Katara and Zuko’s internal monologues are excellent in this, but I particularly love Zuko’s. The writer is so good at capturing his resolve, his earnestness, and his awkwardness. This is a very restrained fic — no great histrionics — but also incredibly romantic. The first kiss scene made me want to both sigh and screech. I’m also just a huge sucker for “Katara learns politics” which this fic has in spades, with a bonus of very thoughtful gender dynamics. Anyway, if you liked AJ Lenoire’s The Summit or andromeda13’s such selfish prayers, you’d probably like Refraction. Zuko and Katara are very much dumb teens in the beginning portions of this fic, which I personally like because it makes me nostalgic. Oh, and Katara is low key chaotic good in this, which is super in-character and hilarious.

Stormbenders, by Fandomme | Rating: T | Word Count: 171,000+ 

Summary: S3 AU from FBM. Deep in the Fire Nation jungle, the Gaang meets a group of rogue water ninja who send Zuko and Katara on a mission to retrieve Ozai's secret battle plans.

My thoughts: I’m aware that if you asked the average ZK shipper ten years ago what the ship classics are, the answers are probably Stormbenders, His Majesty Prefers Blue, and the Sparrowkeet series. The other classics are good (classics for a reason!), but Stormbenders remains my favourite. It’s funny. It’s exciting. It’s WELL PACED. The ZK relationship grows so organically, which is a huge feat considering this fic was started before we even got The Southern Raiders. The events are a little more adult than the show, but the tone remains very ATLA. There’s a lovely little animatic of the beginning of the scene on YouTube to show you exactly what I mean about the tone and the humour. I am always weak for a well-structured adventure romance, and Stormbenders stands the test of time because it’s just such a well-written fic. 

The Undying Fire, by Boogum | Rating: T | Word Count: 534,665

Summary: "He has the eyes, Princess Ursa." They were half-forgotten words, a whisper of fears never explained. Zuko had dismissed it all as nothing to worry about—until he somehow healed the Avatar. Fire healers weren't meant to exist, except he did. He'd saved the kid's life. Naturally, he wanted answers. Too bad finding them wasn't so simple...

My thoughts: This fic is mostly Gen, and Zutara shows up in the latter half of the series. Despite being a ZK shipper I like plenty of Gen fics too, and The Undying Fire gives me the best of both worlds. I love the world building, the humour, and the slow ramp up of the Gaang friendships. I absolutely love how the canon divergence is so subtle at first and gradually unfurls into something super different, yet retains much of its ATLA charm. Boogum’s written some other bangers too, and I have to give honorable mention to Zuko’s Tiny Dilemma (where a spirit transforms ponytail Zuko into his six-year-old self, and Uncle into a teapot, and somehow it becomes an emotionally compelling 100k word saga) and Following Blue (season 2 canon divergent Bluetara with a bigger focus on romance). 

Katara Alone & associated fics by cablesscutie | Rating: T | Word Count: 86,890

Summary: The war is over, and with it goes the only life she has ever known. In this era of love and peace, the world is becoming new, and Katara is unsure of her place in it. That's okay though. Katara has rebuilt her life from scratch before, and she will do it again.

My thoughts: I love post-war “Katara sets out to find herself and also finds Zuko” fics. Katara Alone is a fabulous coming-of-age story with some good old fashioned letter flirting during Katara’s solo travels. The sequel, Lady of the Tides, has some very thoughtful depictions of Katara’s place within the post-war Fire Nation, and the accompanying story from Zuko’s POV, The Fire Lord at Home, hits all my buttons. Like…Zuko is Fire Lord Good Boy! He passes legislation! There is political optimism! Swoon. 

Another Word for Alchemy, by FanPanda 13 | Rating: T | Word Count: 108,000+ 

Summary: Five years have passed since the Avatar defeated Fire Lord Ozai, and the members of the Gaang have all gone in their own direction. But when Aang invites them all to a Peace Summit at the North Pole and tells them of his new project, for which he will need their support, the group comes together again for adventure, fun and romance. AU. Zutara. COMPLETE.

My thoughts: Now this is a fic that thoroughly crept up on me. The first 3/4 is good old fashioned fluffy, funny, fourth wall-breaking Gaang shenanigans with plenty of Zutara. But the last quarter? Oh boy does it come right at you and slam you in the solar plexus with the platonic love and found family feels and the complexities of those feelings when you’re a teenager. The impact of Aang’s loss of the Air Nomads is treated very thoughtfully here, way more so than in the show. 

The Slow Path, by TazmainianDevil | Rating: T | Word Count: 125,723 

Summary: Eight years after the fall of Ozai, Aang returns to the friends he left behind.

My thoughts: This is actually a Taang story with a great ZK subplot. But what I love about it is that the whole Gaang (including Suki ALWAYS INCLUDING SUKI) is superbly characterized. The ZK banter is top notch. I could actually hear their voices in my head in some of the scenes. Their relationship is playful but has plenty of emotional heft. And the plot is exciting and well-developed. My favourite thing, though, is how the author treats Toph’s POV: it’s very thoughtfully written, with consideration towards how she perceives the world.

Simple Misunderstanding, by ShamelessLiar | Rating: T | Word Count: 80,965 

Summary: Katara was captured by Zuko, but there was a lapse in communication. Takes place after The Fortuneteller. Fierce Katara, honorable Zuko, and meddlesome Iroh. Also, music night

My thoughts: Generally I don’t love fics where Katara gets captured, especially by Zuko (just a personal preference, not here to judge). But! I love this one, because…well, the circumstances of Katara’s capture by Ponytail Zuko are simply hilarious. Katara is suspicious and stubborn; Zuko has a one-track mind and doesn’t understand why Iroh is treating his prisoner so nicely; oh, and Aang gets into an amazing side quest with some spiritual animals. The only thing about this story is that it ends a little abruptly since the author was considering a sequel, but it still reads as a standalone fic. The author also wrote His Majesty Prefers Blue and Call Me Katto, two ZK classics, but Simple Misunderstanding is far and away my favourite work. 

Clothe Me in Seasons, Dress Me in Snow, by sadladybug | Rating: T | Word Count: 62,026

Summary: It is not the memorial she deserves, nor the one she would want. But it can't be helped. He owns no property in the other nations, and he needed to keep her close. Closer than she was in life, anyway. Zuko's reflections on a life lived and a life that could have been.

Review: sadladybug lives up to the username by creating a sadness so contagious that I have yet to recover from it, and I cope by recommending this fic to other Zutara shippers so that more may suffer like I did. (Stop the cycle? No.) Look — I think there’s something extremely beautiful and poetic about a love that changes in nature and form and expression, but not in intensity and devotion, and that’s what this fic is about. Loved it. Never reading it again. 

One shots: 

There’s a category of canon-compliant Zutara one-shots that are all extremely painful, and I cannot get enough of them: in the next life by we-were-angels, taking place right before Katara’s wedding to Aang; water can heal, water can break by crazyache, about why Katara didn’t attend Yakone’s trial. 

To combat the above, here’s a few funny, fluffy ones that make me cackle: i am older now by ama (who wrote the banger that is The Blackfish and the Dragon), an old!ZK fic that I read to counteract the emotional damage inflicted by psychedelic_aya’s we hold our hearts in silence; all good things start with tea by yodalorian, where Zuko’s hapless Disney sidekick-esque advisors try to get him a wife; And Half at One Another’s Throats by songofhopeandhonor (whose account is deleted), about Zuko’s harebrained proposals to Katara; The Dragon of the West’s Guide to Flirting by bluesunflower44, which is exactly what it says on the tin and the awkward disaster you’d expect. Waiting on a Steady Sun, by nire, is a long version of my favourite tropes: fake marriage + idiots to lovers ft. pining for your spouse. 

I generally don’t love modern AUs, but akaiiko’s talk is cheap (and i’ve got expensive taste), where Katara meets Zuko at a frat party, is a whole damn delight; my old aches become new again by jamesstruttingpotter is a wonderfully indulgent modern AU based on Our Beloved Summer. 

And finally, some season 3 character studies: don’t tell me how to feel by paintingcranes, ft Katara at the Western Air Temple being increasingly incensed at both Zuko trying to be helpful and how other people react to his helpfulness; the other side of mercy by crazyache, where Sokka calls Katara “high-strung and crazy” and that really makes Zuko think; The Silent Garden by romilley (whose WIP The Horizon is also fabulous), where Katara and Zuko avoid their feelings through a reluctant-allies-with-benefits arrangement (ft a way of depicting intimacy and sex that makes me think of Normal People); a deep delight of the blood by eruthros, where Zuko asks Katara to practice bloodbending on him out of pragmatism but also a little bit of guilt (it’s unrated, but that “Kink Without Sex” tag is there for a reason). 

Thank you for asking me for my recs, anon, because I needed an outlet to rave about fanfiction and my irl friends have heard enough. Feel free to ask me questions about specific fics that aren’t on this list: I always love talking to people about fic and I’m always looking for new ones to read!

[zepskies]

Being Human – Part 1

Pairing: Alec McDowell x F. Reader

Summary: Your life made sense before Alec slipped his way in. He unravels your threads without even trying. He frustrates you as easily as he weasels back into your good graces. But you soon realize that this man is worth the challenge.

AN: This is technically my first Dark Angel story, since I wrote Part 1 of this before "Bullseye." It will be four parts. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Summary: You’ve managed to keep things playful and friendly with Alec so far, despite his flirtatious nature. But when he asks you for a favor that goes painfully awry, the transgenic has to figure out something that wasn’t in his training: how to apologize. [Set during 2.06]

Word Count: 5,000

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Tension, angst, spiciness, implied smut.

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: Training Day

As sad as it is, this is probably your favorite place in the world.

Crash is as divey as a dive bar can get. And yet, it still boasts the strongest, cheapest drinks in Seattle. The music is decent, and the company is good. At least tonight it is, because you’ve met up with Max, Original Cindy, and Sketchy after a long day of slinging packages.

The only problem?

The newest member of Jam Pony, slinking up from the corner of your eye and easing into the seat next to you at the bar.

You turn an expectant gaze to Alec McDowell and his flirtatious green eyes. They take in your jeans and halter top with an obvious perusal. 

“Can I help you?” you ask dryly.

“No, no. It’s what I can do for you,” he replies. You’re about to roll your eyes when he adds, “Let me buy you a beer. Or whatever you’re drinking.”

Just then, the bartender slides you the beer you’ve already ordered. You thank him and give Alec a smile.

“Got it covered, thanks,” you reply, sipping the froth off your drink.

Alec sighs and crosses his arms. “When are you gonna stop putting the freeze on me?”

“When I’m not part of your internal checklist of Breasts on Legs,” you retort. Glancing around the bar, you note three other girls you’ve already seen him shoot his shot with tonight.

Alec scoffs and holds his chest.

“That’s hurtful,” he claims. “It really is.”

But he shifts toward you in his seat, cutting off your smile. Your face warms at his proximity.

Damn, he smells good, you think.

“Besides,” he says, “I always save the best for last.”

His smile makes your heart beat faster, though you eye him wryly. He opens his smartass mouth to say something else, but you get a reprieve when Original Cindy slides into the seat on your other side. She tosses you a wink.

It gives you just enough confidence to smirk in Alec’s face.

“Keep trying. Maybe someday I’ll lose my mind,” you say, with a teasing raise of brows.

Alec is still amused as he shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable. Insulting, yet, still somehow endearing.”

“Don’t wanna get clowned, don’t act like a clown,” you tell him sweetly. 

“I know that’s right,” Cindy quips. She orders a Cosmo to upgrade her beer. She must’ve won a bet tonight, if she was able to score enough cash for liquor.

“Hilarious,” Alec says. He pouts a little. “Hey, I’m not some mongrel on the loose. I’m just looking for some honest companionship.”

“Honest?” you laugh. “Now that’s hilarious.”

He gives you a fake laugh, but he watches you go when you slip away from him to join Max and Sketchy in the back room by the pool table. Alec’s smile fades a little.

Cindy raises a brow at him, along with a tan finger.

“No,” she says. “You actually crushin’ on homegirl? For real?”

Alec glances at her. “Where’d you get that idea?”

She gives him a flat look.

“Should I burn some sage?” she asks.

Alec shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“Come on. I think Max is calling us over.”

When the two of them venture over to where you and Max are playing a game of pool, Alec’s cocky smile is back. His eyes catch yours when he sits down at a nearby table. Your lips curve while you lean on your pool cue.

For the past few weeks, this is how it’s always been with you and Alec. Push and pull. A sort of caustic flirtation that you can’t in good conscience take seriously. But to his credit, he always tries.

And he seems to always mean it. 

You’ll never admit it, but it’s getting harder and harder for you to resist the pull of him. He’s clearly a guy who doesn’t do attachments, and you have a bad habit of getting attached. Your life is hard enough without adding a dash of heartbreak into the mix.

So Max helps you sharpen your skills at this game while you finish your beer. And…maybe you “unintentionally” tease Alec a little with the curve of your ass when you’re bent over the table, lining up a shot.

In fairness, you’re a bit tipsy.

You spend the rest of the night drinking two more beers and laughing and losing the game—first to Max, then to Alec, and finally to Sketchy. By then, you know it’s time to cut your losses.

You haul your backpack onto your shoulder and start to head out of the bar. But who should slip into your way than Alec freakin’ McDowell?

“Hey, I’ve got a quick question for you,” he says.

You sigh. “Alec, the usual sniping was fun, but I’m tired and I want to go home.”

He stops you with a touch on your arm. He seems slightly more serious.

“It’s a favor,” he says, pulling out a small rectangular package wrapped in plain brown paper. You look down at it in confusion.

“I saw on the work chart that you’re scheduled to go over to Sector 4 tomorrow,” he says. “Would you mind delivering this for me?”

Your brows raise at him. He raises $20 in front of your face.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he smiles.

You take the $20 and the package, though you’re still a little uncertain.

“What’s in it?”

Alec leans in close to your ear. “I’ll give you an extra $10 if you don’t ask.”

His voice washes over you and makes your skin prickle. You’re blushing, but your eyes narrow at him further.

“Make it $20,” you counter.

He scoffs. Though after a moment…he coughs up the extra cash.

“The most expensive damn delivery I’ve never made,” he mutters.

You have to crane your neck a bit, as he stands over a head taller than you, but you smile up at him brightly.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” you say.

For him, maybe the expense was worth it to get that smile.

You pull up on your bike to what you think is the right address. You don’t usually come to this side of town, even in Sector 4.

It feels a bit like a shanty town and a meat packing district all at once—complete with dodgy-looking street vendors and unmarked vans loading and unloading cargo behind them. 

“Can I help you, little girl?”

You stifle a gasp as your path is suddenly obstructed. A black man and his two white friends have crowded around your bike, but they don’t look normal. Various metal spikes and prods protrude from their faces, neck, and body, but they’re not your typical piercings. The metal is fused into their skin.

Oh shit, you think, as your heartrate picks up. Steelheads.

“I’m just making a delivery,” you tell them. Your eyes dart to your surroundings, trying to catch anyone’s gaze for a little help.

But in big cities like this, everyone knows to keep their eyes down.

Don’t look, don’t tell. Don’t get any trouble.

“I think you might be lost, love,” says one of the other men. He’s British, by the sound of his accent, and is the taller of the two. His skin is pale, though there’s a red ring under his eyes that suggests drugs, or whatever else these three are injecting into themselves.

“Uhh, yeah. I must be. I’ll just go,” you nod, and you start to back up. The ringleader Brit clamps a bony hand on your bike to stop you. He grabs the scrap of paper Alec gave you, which holds the address for your intended delivery.

The Steelhead examines it lazily, before his gaze flicks back up to yours.

“Well, well. I stand corrected,” he says. He gestures to the small package in your hands. “What’s in it?”

You shrug and try to play off your ignorance. Because the truth is, you have no idea.

“It’s not my job to know,” you reply.

“Ah, but you see, it’s our business to know,” the Brit says, leaning in towards you. You lean back with pursed lips.

“This is our little piece of paradise,” says the shortest one. His lips are damn near purple.

“We’re what you call…territorial,” says the leader. He grabs you off your bike while the first man takes the package from you.

“Hey, I don’t want any trouble,” you say, though you hate the way your voice shakes. “I can just go—”

“Oh, we’ll let you go, little mouse. You’re gonna give a message back to sender,” the Brit says. “But first, a reminder.”

He shoves you back into the nearest wall. It’s solid brick that stuns a gasp out of you. He presses in on you, grabbing your face and dragging a sharp, unnaturally long nail against your cheek, biting into the skin.

It’s painful enough to make you whimper as you feel wetness drip down to your neck. His friends laugh at your discomfort, at your fear. You’re too frozen to reach for the pepper spray in your pocket…

“What’s going on here?” another man asks. Out of the corner of your eye you spot a black uniform. For the first time in your life, you’re grateful to see a cop.

The Steelhead releases you, and the three of them are subtle in the way they back off from you.

“Nothing here, officer,” the leader says. Though he gives you a smirk. “Just accepting a delivery.”

You let them keep the package and pretend that a signature has made it onto your clipboard. You climb back onto your bike and you leave Sector 4 without looking back. All the while, your arms shake and you wipe at the blur of tears in your eyes.

When you get back to the Jam Pony base of operations (a warehouse that feels like a basement), you park your bike out front and head inside.

Your legs still feel precarious. And even though the blood is dry against the cut on your cheek, you know you need to clean and disinfect it at some point.

Of course, you have to run into Alec and Sketchy, who are palling around without a care in the world.

That all stops when they turn to look at you. Their mirth dies on their faces. Alec’s gaze runs over you and stops at your cheek. You dab at your face, tentative and self-conscious. You know you must look like hell. Of course, they can’t let you just go to your locker in peace.

“Jeez, what the hell happened to you?” Sketchy asks.

You shake your head. “Fell into a bush.”

You drag Alec aside by his arm, giving him a warning look that further lets him know you’re lying. He follows you without complaint over to the lockers, where you two have the semblance of privacy. Before he can ask you what really happened, you snap at him.

“What the hell was in that package?” you ask. “Drugs? A weapon? Some other contraband? Do you know what could’ve happened to me if I’d gotten caught with that shit? Do you know what almost…”

Tears burgeon in your eyes all over again, and you have to take a deep, shaky breath. 

Alec’s brows furrow in what might actually be concern. He grasps your arm, gentle but firm. 

“Hey, tell me what happened,” he says.

Unconsciously, his grip on your arm makes the memory flash in your mind: of that pale, greasy man grabbing you and pinning you against the wall.

You shrug out of Alec’s hold more harshly than you meant to. It makes him raise a placating hand, as his eyes widen a fraction.

“A gaggle of Steelheads,” you say. You breathe tremulously, blinking past your tears. “I was lucky…anyway. Next time you want to ask me for a favor? Don’t.”

 You brush past Alec to get to your locker. There you grab the rest of your things and head out, though it’s quite a few hours before closing time. Nothing gets by Normal, who stops you at the reception desk.

“Hey, hey, Missy! Where the hell’re you going?” he asks. “Get back here. I’ve got packages that need homes.”

“I’m taking some much needed PTO,” you quip.

“You don’t have PTO. It’s not that kind of business,” Normal says.

“Then bite me,” you snap. “How’s that?”

Most of the room stills into quiet shock. You feel the weight of their gazes, your coworkers and friends, including Normal’s slackened face.

You’re normally not one to talk back. You accept your assignments without question, not wanting to cause undue trouble for yourself. Like everyone else here, you need your job, and you have nothing to fall back on.

But it’s enough, and you’re thoroughly done with today.

Your saving grace is that it’s plain to see how shaken up you are, even when you leave. Alec approaches the receptionist desk with Sketchy, drumming his hand on the counter absently. 

“What the hell crawled up her keister?” Normal remarks. “She’s lucky I’m short staffed right now, or she’d be in the can.”

Despite his strong talk, he resumes collecting paperwork and organizing files to distract himself from how much you’d taken him aback.

Alec frowns.

“She uh, had to deal with some Steelheads,” he offers, and hesitates. “...What the hell’s a Steelhead?”

“Yeah, you know, they’re into implants and biotech stuff,” Sketchy explains.

“She would know better than to hang out with those low lives,” Normal interjects. “They’re amped off their gourds on hormones and who knows what else.”

Alec processes that with a deepening frown. He decides to head out onto his next “delivery.”

He makes it to Sector 4 on his bike within an hour, but he still envies Max’s motorcycle. When he racks up enough cash, he’s definitely scoring a faster ride.

For now, he pulls up near the address he sent you to earlier. He never should’ve given you his drugs to sell, especially when he clearly doesn’t know this city well enough yet.

Poor reconnaissance, Alec, he thinks. Sloppy.

Though when did he start to think of himself as Alec and not by his designation, 494?

He’s soon taken out of his musings when he sees a gaggle of three men outside a cargo van. Each of them is uglier than the last, with metal spikes, among other things sticking out from their bodies. Steelheads. They’ve got to be.

These are the guys who harassed you.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Alec says, climbing off his bike. The men turn to the newcomer with suspicious frowns.

“I’m looking for three fugly Steelheads that hassled a friend of mine this morning,” he says.

One is tall, pale and wiry, and he opens his arms wide. “Well, you found ‘em.”

He has a British accent. The sight of him alone grates on Alec, though all he shows is calm confidence. He teases the short one, who seems to be missing an arm. Apparently he’s “pre-op,” set to get a new cyber arm made of Japanese steel.

Fucking wackos, Alec thinks. Manticore could learn a thing or two from these guys about mutilation.

“Here’s the thing, fellas,” Alec says. “My friend was carrying a package that didn’t belong to her. It belonged to me. You guys took it, and I need to get it back.”

The first man scoffs. “There seems to be a breakdown in communication, doesn’t it?”

He approaches Alec, hands on his hips, with his two cronies behind him. Alec can already smell their stench from where he stands. He doesn’t need them to get any closer.

“Maybe your little bitch didn’t relay our message,” he says, pushing his luck.

Alec’s smile sharpens; a deadly warning in and of itself.

“Nobody around here sells Andy but us,” says another of them.

Androxtamine. Alec didn’t care to be a drug dealer. It was just a means to an end in order to pay Max back for her help a little while back. Now, his buyer is pissed that he didn’t get his damn drugs, and Alec is out $500.

He tries to explain that calmly to this group of weirdos, but the leader is just so damn cocky.

“What’s a puff like you need with $500 anyway, eh?” he asks.

Alec’s smirk deepens. He mimics the guy’s accent and replies, “Actually, I need it for a ride on your mum.”

Well, the Steelheads don’t take too kindly to that. They try their best, Alec will hand it to them. But his genetics and training make the resulting “fight” no more than child’s play. He takes his frustrations out of their asses.

He can’t help being slightly more brutal than necessary when he remembers the fear lingering behind your eyes. The bloody cut on your cheek. The way it could’ve been so much worse…

And it would’ve been your fault. Alec’s lips press into a line.

Logan Cale, Max’s rich non-boyfriend and secret “Eyes Only” vigilante, calls Alec halfway through his venting session to, surprisingly, ask for his help.

Alec agrees, because it’s mainly for Max. A creature has been killing cops in Seattle. Unfortunately, the description of a “man-dog” sounds way too much like Joshua, their fellow transgenic in hiding.

It also means Alec has to spend most of his afternoon in a musty sewer.

The job ends up being a bitch and a half, even when Max finally shows up to help out. The true culprit ends up being Joshua’s brother, Isaac, who Joshua is forced to stop before he kills any more policemen who remind him of Manticore’s abusive guards.

The gentle Joshua ends up having to take out his own brother. Something that’s both familiar, and foreign to Alec. (But he’s sure it’s not so foreign to Max.)

It’s a harrowing scene, and a touch too emotional for Alec’s comfort. He leaves Max to tend to Joshua in the aftermath and catches a ride home with Logan. Somehow though, as bone tired and grimy as he feels, Alec can’t feel right about going home just yet.

Something is niggling in the back of his mind, forcing him to hand Logan a scrap of paper that holds your address. (Alec might’ve snuck into Normal’s office before he left for the day to find out where you lived on your employee file.)

“Hey, can you stop at this address?” Alec asks.

Logan glances at the piece of paper and nods. He then looks over at Alec. They aren’t friends, but Logan is perceptive enough to know that something’s weighing on his passenger.

“Everything okay?” Logan asks.

“There’s something I have to do,” Alec supplies.

When they eventually arrive to what seems like an abandoned building, Logan looks over at Alec.

“Good luck,” he offers.

Alec nods gratefully. They aren’t friends, but he supposes Logan’s not so bad, even if he is a slave to Max’s supposed charms.

Alec gets out of the car and head inside the building. It’s old and dirty, and he really can’t believe you live like this. It lacks security and basic hygiene. If he wanted to, he could kick straight through your door with half of his strength.

Instead, he knocks.

A few moments later, he hears your feet padding cautiously to the door.

“Who is it?” you ask. Your voice is familiar and pleasant to his ears, if nervous.

“It’s me, Alec,” he replies.

It takes a second of your hesitation, but you unlock the door and open it.

He eyes your tank-top and shorts, the thin bra, your damp hair, the smell of your shampoo assaulting his heightened senses. 

But the jagged red line across your cheek draws his attention, along with the confusion in your eyes, and the wooden spoon in your hand. Was that supposed to be your weapon of choice? 

“What’re you doing here?” you ask. “How’d you even know where I live?”

“Ah, I told Normal I wanted to check on you. Make sure you weren’t going AWOL on the job tomorrow,” Alec says with a teasing smile.

You look a bit skeptical, but you let him in when he asks if he can. He smells whatever you’re cooking, spots the metal pot of pasta sauce simmering on the janky-looking stove, and his mouth starts to water. He’s starving, now that he thinks about it.

He then focuses on taking in the rest of the apartment…and it doesn’t take him long. This place is a shoebox.

At least it’s clean, as much as the peeling drywall can be.

“Why’re you here then?” you ask. Alec turns to see you have a hand on your hip. You’re staring at him like he’s a puzzle you’re trying to figure out.

You set down the wooden spoon on the counter and face him. Alec’s tempted to brush a stray strand of hair out of your eyes, but he keeps his arms down to his sides instead.

“About what happened today,” he says. “Those guys aren’t going to be a problem for you again.”

You tilt your head at him.

“What’d you do?” you ask with furrowed brows. “Something shy of legal?”

Alec starts to smile. “Maybe.”

You hmph in response. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Alec barely resists rolling his eyes, though he knows he deserves that. Once again, he takes in your apartment. It’s cozy, he supposes, if small.

“You live alone?” he asks. “No roommate? Boyfriend?”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” you say dryly. “But no. To both.” 

That satisfies him, and yet there’s a little churn in his gut. This place is questionable at best. Doesn’t exactly boast decent security. He’s not too worried about the Steelheads trying to find you, but after the past few months outside of Manticore, he realizes how rough it’s become for humanity after the Pulse, especially for a woman alone.

“You could use a doorman around here,” he remarks. 

You scoff in amusement. “Yeah, well. It may not be the Ritz, but as long as the heater doesn’t crap out on me, it’s a decent day.” 

Alec doesn’t know what the Ritz is, but it sounds nicer than this dump. 

You catch the silent look of judgment on his face, making you frown and cross your arms.

“I can take care of myself just fine, okay, Dad?”

Alec frowns and gestures to your face. “Yeah. Right. You’re little miss Fight Club.”

That sparks your temper. You glare up at him with a defiant tilt to your chin.

“This,” you point to your marred cheek, “wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you. I’m not an idiot. I don’t put myself in stupid situations, except for that one time I ignored my better judgment to help you!”

Alec glowers back at you, but he knows he doesn’t have a good defense. You take a step into his orbit and tap a finger into his chest.

“And by the way,” you add. Your voice cracks like a whip. “Whoever taught you how to apologize did a bang up job!”

By the end of your little rant, you’re breathing deeply, and Alec is barely holding onto his own temper. What cuts through it all are the frustrated tears brimming in your eyes.

He sighs internally.

They didn’t exactly cover this in training, he thinks, but he supposes that's just…Being Human 101.

All too soon, your anger dims into defensiveness. You withdraw from him and gesture to the door.

“Now if you don’t mind, please get out of my shithole apartment so I can finish cooking in peace,” you gripe.

“Wait, wait,” Alec implores, when you try to lead him out. He lets you back him up a step or two, just to seem human, but now he digs his heels in. He looks down at you with true regret. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. His hand finds your unmarred cheek, caressing softly. His thumb swipes across your skin. “I am. I shouldn't have asked you to make that delivery. I'm sorry you got hurt.”

You stare up at him, breathing labored, and making your breasts just barely brush his sternum. Your eyes search his just as much as he is yours.  

He isn’t actually sure who moves first, him or you. But when his lips meet yours, it feels like electricity under his skin. It’s magnets that are meant to connect—it’s his arms wrapping around your waist like steel bands and you grabbing his face, sinking your fingers into his sandy brown hair.

It’s teeth clicking and tongues warring as he backs you up to the kitchen counter, and he hefts you up there by your hips.

You squeal in surprise, making Alec chuckle before he swallows your sounds with his mouth.

You start to push his jacket off his shoulders, and he helps you, letting the rest of it slide right off, followed by his shirt and your tank top. His hands smooth up your bare thighs and his thumbs dip in between, squeezing near the apex of your thighs and making you tremble against his chest. Warmth pools in your core even from that simple touch.

“W-Wait,” you whisper. 

It makes Alec pause. His muscles tense. Has he read you wrong? 

He searches your face for a sign of discomfort. If you don’t want this, it’ll be…hard, at this point (for more reasons than one). But if he has to, he’ll let you go.

He’s relieved when you only twist away for a moment to turn off the stove. You return to him with a smile as your hands come to rest on his chest. You bite your lower lip. 

“Shall we continue?” he teases. 

His thumb encourages you to let go of your lip. He takes your chin between his fingers and guides you back to him.

The next kiss burns with a slower passion. One that consumes you enough to hook your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips. 

He grins against your lips and lifts you again, this time holding you firmly against him. You make another sound of surprise, but you don’t let that stop you from delving deeper into his kiss. 

He carries you into the bedroom and slams the rickety door.

Afterwards, the two of you lay together on the wrong side of your bed. 

Alec lies on his stomach and you on your back. The night had gotten such that you stopped caring which side you typically put your pillow on. Your hair is fanned out on the mattress in many tangles he took pride in creating.

A shitty show plays on your small TV, but Alec is watching with rapt attention. 

He’s kind of cute about it actually, you think. Like he’s never seen a soap opera before. 

“Ooh, that one’s my favorite,” you point backwards. “It’s about a sexy doctor, obviously.”

“Right, because I’m sure doctors always have this much sex with their patients,” Alec quips. 

You snort and shake your head. You stare at the side of his face for a moment, rather than the TV. 

The back of his hand rubs against your shoulder, earning your attention. 

“What’re you thinking?” he asks. He’s still looking at the screen.

“That I’m even hungrier now, but I don’t feel like getting up,” you admit with a giggle. He laughs.

“I wouldn’t mind some chow,” he says. 

You roll onto your stomach, taking some of the sheets with you when your knee slides over, resting against his naked lower back. You lean your chin on his shoulder as your hand travels across his back. 

“Is that your way of inviting yourself over for dinner?” you ask. 

He looks over at you then. He’s grinning, but his eyes are a touch softer, you think.

“If you don’t mind me crashing,” he says.

You shake your head and sift your fingers through his hair. Your gaze drifts down the back of his neck and catches on a strange mark. It’s a barcode, you realize, touching it lightly with two fingers. 

“What’s this? A prison tat?” you tease. 

He chuckles humorlessly. “Sort of.”

Your amusement fades, but your soft fingers along the back of his neck elicit a small shiver out of him. Your touch is gentle. He isn’t used to gentle, and it makes goosebumps spread across his skin. He feels your lips press a kiss to his shoulder next, and he turns his head to look at you. 

Beautiful, he thinks, taking in your face again, and the hint of cleavage down the sheets covering you, hiding the familiar curves he had all too much fun exploring.

“You gonna tell me the story?” you ask. “Or save it for a rainy day?”

Alec lets out a sigh through his nose. “Let’s pencil that one under the ‘Rainy’ column.”

You nod in agreement and bite your lip. These days, everyone has a story they’re not proud of. Even something that keeps them up at night. You don’t press Alec for his.

He’s grateful for that. He leans in and kisses you, nice and slow.

From the beginning, he noticed you. Your tenacity. Your quiet confidence. How you’re always willing to help your friends, and how you’ve never taken any of his shit, even if he knew part of you had been contemplating his suggestive offers. That spark always kept him coming back for more…and somehow, it became more.

In the back of his mind, this scares him a little. Being with you feels dangerous in a way that feels both familiar and foreign, but it’s too late. He’s been hooked by the pull of you. It’s a craving he can’t help but try and fill. Hopefully, not just tonight.  

“You said something about food?” he grins.

You smile and lean in again, until you’re mere inches from his lips. 

“Hmm, impromptu dinner date?” you offer. Alec laughs quietly and nods.

“We kinda went about this backwards,” you say, “but if you like spaghetti and plain sauce, I’m your girl.”

He smirks at that, and thumbs at your chin.

“Then you’re my girl.”

AN: And there's Part 1! It's only my second time writing Alec, so I hope he feels in character. Let me know what you think of this little series so far. 😘💜

There's much more in store over the next three parts, and the next one tackles perhaps my favorite episode (2.11), even if it's the most gutting.

Next Time:

“All right, that’s enough outta you,” Alec says, and he claims you with a more demanding kiss. His fingers sink into your hair tightly.  

But you press your hand to his cheek, making him pause for a moment. The amusement fades from his eyes the longer he stares into yours. You’re not teasing or joking anymore. 

You kiss him then with meaning. With tenderness. 

You don’t know how it makes that coil of guilt grip him like a vice.

Keep Reading: PART 2

Series Masterlist

Alec McDowell Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[hunnidmilly]

crushin’ on you. |s.s|

(a/n) omg. im kinda nervous here. i wanted to try my luck at writing for solo sikoa. aye it’s wild asl when the whole damn family fine asl. im also cooking up something for jey usoooo :))). this is also inspired by @msbigredmachine ‘I still heart you’ oneshot featuring solo and nadine. complete credit to you <3. enjoy.

“it’s cool, not tryin’ to put the rush on you. i had to let you know that i got a crush on you…”

warnings: none.

parings: fluff!solo sikoa x black!reader

tagged: @cyberdejos2

“Shit!” You let out a painful groan as you almost twisted your ankle while wearing your 6 inch heels.

“You’re so damn childish.” Your best friend, Leilani, mumbled with a roll of her eyes trailing behind you as you rushed towards catering, “You a little too old for this shit, no?”

“Instead of running your motormouth, you need to be making sure he’s not near me.” You pant, nearly out of breath from your speed walking.

“Bitch, we just speedwalked all the way to the other side of the damn building away from him! He can’t fucking teleport, dammit.” Leilani responds pulling out a chair to sit down lowering her head to the table, “Why won’t you jus—“

“You think he saw me? What if he thinks I’m crazy? All he did was wave. Fuck man. Fuck!” You whine as you throw your head into your hands in embarrassment

“I hope the motherfucker does, then you can stop running away like a 6 year old child.”

“Your mother.” You mumbled out

Currently, you found yourself in a sticky situation. You were always told before you got into this business, “Don’t fall in love with your coworkers.” And here you were. Head over heels for a certain younger Samoan. Solo was practically your husband in your head at this point. You've had a crush on him since meeting him in developmental. With a handful of conversations, hanging out with your friend group, and even going out to eat, how could you not develop even the slightest of feelings for him?

While many saw him as the silent enforcer to his older cousin, Roman, he often showed you a different side when you were alone with him. When you allowed yourself to be. You could barely contain yourself around him. If it’s from falling over the damn air, to stuttering over your words, or saying the most random shit ever…you were crushin’ on him. and you had it bad.

Safe to say, you spent your nights in your hotel room with only a box of your favorite 10 piece hot wing combo, lurking on his socials, and his friends and family’s socials from a separate account than your company one.

You found it easier to just avoid him all together, to keep your little schoolgirl feelings safe. You’ve had way too many experiences of admitting your feelings for others and it went completely left. Rejection is a part of life, but that doesn’t mean it doesn't hurt. And a man like him? coming from one of the biggest wrestling families? You were nowhere near comparable. Deciding to save yourself from the embarrassment, you’d admire the Samoan from a distance…all while creating it.

Leilani and you were walking down a hall when you spotted him talking to his brother. He through a wave in your direction with a dazzling smile, expecting you to return it. Yeah, you didn’t. Quite the opposite, in fact.

You pretend as if you didn’t see him. And spun on your heel and speed walked down the opposite direction you were intending.

Even though Solo clearly saw you, see him, see you, see him.

“Stupid, you do know you’re 31 years old, right? Not 13. Just tell him you like him. What’s the worst he can do?” Leilani explains with a agitated expression coating her face

“He could say, ‘Hey, I’m not interested.’ and there goes my fuckin

dignity. Right down the drain.” You answer

“Then onto the next, girl! He’s not the only guy you’re ever going to like. He’s not the only guy who’ll rejec—“

“Reject me. I know. Save the speech, Joel Olsten. I don’t need the embarrassment that comes from that. We work together, Lei. Do you understand how awkward that would be?” You screech out slamming your hands in the table

“You knew it was going to be awkward when you started liking him. You and him have gone out before. You’re literally friends.”

“We’re friends through friends, Lei. It’s different. We’ve never gone out alone. It’s always been with other people. But he’s not the ‘enforcer’ around me. He’s just Joseph.” You sighed, beginning to feel sorry for yourself.

Leilani was right. You were a grown woman. He’s not the only guy in the world. But somehow, in front of other people, he always had a way of doing so.

One time you went out bowling with your friends a few months back, and he opened the door for you, placing his hand on your lower back, letting you enter the building before him. That entire night, he paid more than enough attention to you. Asking you about your life outside of wrestling, laughing at your jokes, and poking fun at your lack of ability to bowl. He even ordered your food for you. He ended that night by giving you a small hug.

You could still smell his cologne if you closed your eyes tightly enough.

But what if you were reading into this all wrong? He could’ve done that as a way to show he was sincerely interested in being your friend.

Late at night you always dreamed, he was crushin’ just as hard on you as you were to him. But he’s a grown man too. He would’ve said something by now if he was genuinely interested. Right?

Right?

“You need to put on your granny panties and go up to him and ask him to hang out. Bitch, you’re old. Get your ass up. Oop, just in time.” Lei suddenly smirks, her eyes moving past your head

You furrowed your eyebrows and turned in your chair to see Solo entering the catering area, his face in his phone. You admittedly felt yourself begin to shake and start to sweat. Your chest getting heavy.

“Girl, get the fuck up. You know what, actually. Solo!” Lei suddenly shouts getting his attention

“What the fuck are you doing?” You snap into her direction

“I’m deflowering your pussy ass. Either take the chance, or shut up! Hey, Solo!”

You turned around to see him making his way to your table with a smile on his face. ‘I’m going to bitch slap her so hard’ you thought in your head, glaring at Leilani.

“Wassup y’all?” Solo says as he sits in a metal chair next to you

“Hey! We’re just talking about this one’s match tonight. I was just saying we need new gear. Here, let me sho—Dammit. My phone died. I’m gonna go get my iPad; I'll be back in a jiffy.”

Your eyes nearly popped from your skull at Leilani’s words, “I’ll be back, you two. Don’t go anywhere, yeah?” She snickers at the inside joke before standing up and walking off

You bit down on your tongue as you watched her saunter off, down the hallway of the arena. opposite of her locker room, where her iPad would be.

little lying ass bitch.

“So y’all thinking about new gear? Whatchall’ thinking about?” Solo asks, moving his arm to lay against the back of your chair.

Fuck me now, “Um…y-yeah. We are. Y’know? We needa stay up to par as tag team champions.” You stutter, silently curing yourself in your head.

“Hell yea! Yall have been killing it lately out there. I remember in developmental, you’d always say how one day you were going to dominate the women's tag team division. If only little you could see yourself right now. Right?” He grins showing his teeth

He remembered that? That was a while ago.

“Yeah. She’d probably be shitting herself.” Fuck.

He chuckles to himself before facing you again, “You guys ready for backlash? I see Natalya is gearing up. Ion know. You might got some serious competition there, baby girl.”

Was that a pet name? Why’d he call you that? Where did he get that? How many other girls does he call that?

“W-w-well she better bring her ass then to be geared the fuck down!” You respond, slightly cursing yourself.

Solo laughs at your bashfulness and you grab a mini water bottle from the center of the table. You quickly opened it and attempted to drown it in its entirety before you began coughing.

Who swallows water the wrong way? Seriously?

“Yo! Yo! You good?” Solo perches upwards with a concern look on his face actively patting your back

Does it look like i’m fucking good? What do you think?

“Y-yeah!” You cough out still hacking your lungs

“Lemme getchu som—Hey, wait a minute.“ Solo's words were cut off as you waved your hand off and stood up to leave. Still coughing, you walked toward the exit with a frown on your face.

Once again, you fucked it up and embarrassed yourself. This time by choking on your water.

“Hey, wait. It’s oka—“ Solo's words were cut off once again as you leaned too close to the door, yanking it open resulting in hitting your head with it.

Before anyone else could see your multiple fuckups, you quickly exited the catering area. You walked as fast as you could to your locker room, clutching your head. You felt the tears in your eyes begin to form at your embarrassment. You felt sorry for yourself. A 31 year old grown ass woman, couldn’t admit to a dude that you were feeling him. The shit was pitiful to say the least.

You clutched your jacket closer to your body as you waited for your Uber Eats delivery to arrive. After a long night, you made the ‘expected’ decision to just head back to the hotel for the night. Avoiding Solo for the duration of the show. Wherever you spotted him, you made sure you weren’t. or at least well hidden. You lowered your gaze down to your phone, eyeing the unread message from Leilani.

Lei: Soooooo. You 2 lovebirds bond?

You didn’t have it in your heart to tell her the truth. Once again, you messed up. If he didn’t think you were weird before, he certainly does now.

Shaming yourself for wearing shorts, while it was chilly outside, you saw the car of your Uber Eats driver pull up. You stayed near the hotel entrance and prepared to greet him to receive your order. As the man gets out with a bag, from the corner of your eye, you couldn’t help but notice Solo beginning to walk towards you, his suitcase in tow. You quickly retrieved your bag, and headed back inside.

Not again. No, never again.

Just as you pressed the elevator button, you heard the creaking of wheels.

“Wassup?” He greets with a smile

“Hey.” You smile back up at the man

Solo's face gains a confused look. You were being short with him. while he knew you were shy. You at least attempted more of a conversation with him.

As the elevator opened, you both entered. You kept your head hung low, as you both waited to reach the floor. When the doors opened, you stepped out and quickly walked towards your room door, accepting your defeat.

“Hey, wait a second.” Solo starts, following behind you.

You were prepared to keep the conversation short and simple. Do not allow yourself to be swept away into another series of painful and embarrassing events.

“Why are you always so…different? Around me. I see you with everyone else. Leilani. The other ladies and guys. You’re yourself. But when it comes to me? You’re different. Wassup? Did I do something?”

You let out a breath as you stared up at the man. You had one shot. And here it was, right here. He was right. You weren’t normally the shy type. But dammit, you could barely form a sentence near him. Leilani was right. There were more fish in the sea. Even if this was the fish you wanted.

“Solo listen. I…I have feelings for you. Bad. I try to save my own feelings by pushing them to the side, but instead I end up looking like a fucking dumbass, every-single-time. I know what you’re going to say. And it’s cool. I’m not tryna put the rush on you. So just sav—“

You were ready to continue your ramble. Ready to explain and accept your rejection. You felt yourself being pressed against the door of your hotel room as Solo's lips combined with yours.

You dropped your bag of food onto the ground, and your arms slid around his neck. You felt yourself moan into his mouth as his tongue snaked into yours, welcoming. His arms slid around your waist, pressing your body against his. As you both tasted each other and fought for dominance, you thought back to what Leilani said. Ole ass was right.

You pulled away from Solo, keeping your arms locked around his neck. “And what if I said I was feeling you too? Then what?” He responded

“I’d be speechless.”

“Good. Save yourself from saying something crazy again.” He chuckles before diving in again for another taste of your lips against his.

[liyawritesss]

summertime crushin’

Characters: MCU!Shuri Udaku x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 1.7k

Synopsis: In Shuri’s attempts to follow in her brother's footsteps and continue his work with the Wakandan International Outpost Facilities, she finally takes up Riri’s offer to visit Chicago. However, she isn’t sure if it's the intense summertime heat that has her face burning or the incredibly talented dance choreographer Riri is friends with.

Warnings: cursing

A/N: For the two dances mentioned: the first is “Killing Me Softly” by Lauryn Hill, choreography by Evan Miller (0:08-2:10), and the second is “BMO” by Ari Lennox, choreography by YeoJin (0:00-1:15), of which (Y/N) is the middle dancer with coloured hair. I’ve had this idea since FOREVER and finally had enough of it swimming in my head, so I finally wrote it down. Hope you all enjoy!

Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @6-noir @playhousedistee @shuririsdefenseattorney @shuriszn @zayswriting @wrendermedone @writingintheshadowsforever @mbakuetshurisprincess @verachii @shurisbigtoe

Sign Up For My Tag List Here!!

“So the arts are a prominent aspect of the city’s identity?”

“We don’t got our own Broadway title for nothin’, Shuri.”

Shuri could admit to herself that she never thought much of the US outside of the horrible government leadership and the plethora of pathetic white supremacists who hid behind a thin veil of patriotism. She admired her brother’s work, though, with wanting to provide more than adequate resources to black communities all over the US, and as her new title required her to take up the work in question, it only made sense that she’d cut her vacation in Haiti short to get acclimated to the work her brother and mother maintained.

Shuri could also admit that the immense creativity and artistry from members of the Lost Tribe gave her a culture shock she didn’t know she needed to prepare herself for. Even in her mid-twenties, the queen-presumptive had so much to learn about the people who had been stripped of their lineage and ripped from the motherland. No amount of reading or digesting news reports could amount to actually witnessing it in person.

Which is exactly why Riri, Shuri’s self appointed guide to all things Chicago, was escorting the scientist around all the most notable establishments pertaining to all this visual and performance art. From the Chicago Art Museum to watching bands play on corners of sidewalks, Shuri never found herself bored or tired of the activities. And next on the list of places to visit was a storefront  dance studio belonging to a friend of the young engineer, of which Riri was rather ecstatic about, as she hadn’t seen this friend since their highschool days.

Shuri didn’t know what to expect when she entered into the storefront dance studio, following Riri in close pursuit so as to not get lost amongst the other bodies leaving the space. Her only exposure to black American dance was from short clips online she had searched up as a child. Though in an ever changing society, the dark skinned woman was sure that what she had been exposed to prior would surely not be the same as what she would be walking into now.

Shuri is pulled into a room that’s blasting music from the speakers, a song from a voice the queen-presumptive remembers belongs to that of the infamous Lauryn Hill. The robust deepness of the rapper’s voice rises goosebumps along Shuri’s skin, bare and showing her deeply melanated tone. She’s in a forest green tank top that emphasizes her shoulders, her golden necklace housing her panther suit rested neatly around her neck. Black shorts clothed her legs, stopping just above her knees, and on her feet for a pair of strapped slides similar to ones her brother wore long ago. Of course, one could not forget the black shade which hid her eyes, and the majority of her identity, from everyone around her.

Compared to Riri, who wears a white cropped tank, black jogging pants and white AF1’s, the engineer looks much more prepared for a dance class than Shuri is, but she was quickly assured that they wouldn’t be dancing, but rather, watching a few of the dances done by the students within the class. It eased Shuri for a moment, until she walked into the dance space with the loud music reverberating through the walls of the studio. With the melody and bass over taking her body, Shuri couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed.

“This is one of the best dance studios in the city,” Riri says over the music as the two make their way to the front of the crowd of students, “they do everything from Hip-Hop to R&B, and everything in between.”

Shuri nods along as she takes note of the three men standing in the middle of the crowd. They seem to be hyping themselves up up as the first part of the Lauryn Hill song plays, preparing for their routine.

“You about to get a taste of what real art looks like.” Riri muses, as the aforementioned men take their places as the first chorus of the song ends, and the second verse, and ultimately, their routine, begins.

Firstly, Shuri hadn’t expected for the male dancers to have such languid movements. The smoothness of their steps and transitions between each move seemed flawless, and she soon found herself entranced by the dance routine paired with the music playing. Much more, she notes just how happy they are at the moment. The popping and locking is precise, each one garnering a roar from their audience, in turn spreading smiles across the dancers faces. It feels their energy, keeping the precision consistent with the execution of each move. Even as one dancer falls off at what seems to be the end of the official routine, two of them stay on the main floor. They feed off of each other’s energies, dancing around each other in a near touch that shows the trust in each other and the intuition of each dancer. They move as if they’re reading each others mind, circling and molding around each other in a way Shuri had never seen before. And by the end of the performance, the queen-presumptive finds herself yearning for more.

“Bast”, Shuri gasps in shock, “I’ve never seen anything like this. Not even back home!”

Riri encourages Shuri’s amazement, engaging with her in reveling about the choreography they had just witnessed. Her attention is taken when she feels a tap on her shoulder, and when Riri turns around, she releases a shriek of happiness as she embraces the person who’d come up to her.

Shuri is able to get a good look at the person when Riri pulls away. A woman of melanated skin, sun-kissed and glossed over undoubtedly by perspiration, sporting a gray jogging suit set with the hoodie bunched up and hiked over on one shoulder, revealing a black sports bra underneath.

“You made it, Ri!” You exclaim in your embrace of the engineer, hugging her tight as a long lost friend should. “Fuck, I’m so glad youre here; it’s been years!”

“I heard you were back in town, I knew exactly where yo’ ass was gon’ be.” Riri replies, gesturing for you to step forward to be introduced to Shuri.

“This is the friend I told you I was bringing.” Riri reminds, earning a gentle smile from you to Shuri. “Shuri, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), Shuri.”

You held your hand out for a handshake, but Shuri is too distracted by how pretty you are. “It’s nice to meet you,” you greet, “I’ve never met a queen before. Hope it’s not awkward…?”

“No, no,” Shuri quickly reassures, raising her hand to finally take yours in your greeting, “not awkward at all. And the pleasure is mine.”

Shuri isn’t sure what caught her attention first - the fact that you’re half exposed with your hoodie only properly being on half way, exposing your toned stomach from what Shuri suspects is years of dance, or the way your eyes glisten with excitement, or the way your skin is glowing. She just knows that you’re very pretty and it’s making her look like a fool in front of someone she just met. And she doesn’t do well when that happens.

“My piece is up next,” you say, which brings Shuri out of her head and causes her ears to burn slightly, as she was so stuck in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that her hand still held yours in a firm grip. She quickly pulls it away, muttering a quiet apology in return, but you reassure her that she was alright, “you guys sticking around after?”

“Hell yeah we are,” Riri hurriedly answers, “you owe me lunch, cuz you got some explaining to do about how you just dipped and ain’t say shit.”

“Fine, fine,” You relent, “lunch on me. We’ll figure it out when I’m done, cool?”

Though you don’t give them much time to respond, as you’re already backing away as you hear your song being played over the speakers, and your dance partners already in place. Riri throws you a quick thumbs up, granting you the relief you need for jogging out onto the dance floor.

Shuri’s eyes follow you intently as you meet up with the two other dancers located on the floor. She, however, feels a pair of eyes on her, and turns to meet Riri, who has a look on her face that Shuri can only akin to smugness.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Shuri questions slowly, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Hm,” Riri humans, “nun’.”

“Don’t do that!” Shuri groans.

“Do what?” Riri asks. “I ain’t do nun’...I just peep shit and keep it movin’.”

“Exactly,” Shuri responds, “and what exactly did you ‘peep’-?”

“Shhhh,” Riri shushes Shuri as the melody for the verse comes in, “they’re starting!”

It doesn’t take much effort for Shuri’s attention to shift directly onto you, and she’s actually glad she has these shades on, because she has an idea of what Riri says she ‘peeped’, and the intensity of her stare would have given Riri all the proof she needed to confirm her suspicions.

From the very start of the music, your body moves fluidly, as if you were a deity of water, at home in your element. There’s a certain aura you carry - one of power and respect that you’re sure has earned you your place in this studio. Each and every one of your moves garners a roar of encouragement from the audience, and it spurs you on more and more, feeding off of the crowd's energy. The suave and swag that oozes from your persona has everyone on the edge of their seat. It becomes clear to Shuri that you weren’t just a dancer for entertainment. This was your very lifestyle, and you’ve made it your identity in every way imaginable. She watched as life was breathed into you on the dance floor, spurred on by the crowd’s hype, feeding into your ego. 

And by the time your set has finished, Shuri finds herself falling in love with Chicago a little bit more, and experiencing her first summertime crush.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[kikibumblesqueaks]

🌼Introduction Post🌼

Hi hi!!🐝 I'm friendly, just a lil awkward🐈‍⬛✨

I'm finally crawling out of my shell to explore my interest in everything to do with tickle stuff😊🪶

Note: I take weekends off social media for my health so if I go silent for a couple days that’s why🫶

A little about me~

I love animals and have 2 goats & 2 cats💛

I’m obsessed with the band Nightwish🩵

My favorite colors are purple & yellow💛

My favorite pastime is stargazing🩵

I’m Autistic and have ADHD & Synesthesia💛

I have hEDS and struggle with chronic pain🩵

I’m an artist and love drawing & crafty stuff💛

I love spending time with trees & flowers🩵

I enjoy watching gamer content on YouTube💛

Kiki’s squeaky spots🫣

My blog tags~

My content: #Kiki’s content

Tickle talk: #bumble rambles

Tickle experiences: #squeaky Kiki

Tickle dreams: #squeaky Kiki dreams

Flustering things: #How To Kill A Kiki

Asks: #Kiki cookies

Friend posts: #Kiki’s beehive

Tickle crushes: #Kiki’s crushin it

Pet posts: #Kiki’s baby bees

Reblogs: #rebumble

Rants: #Kiki grumble squeaks

My photos: #a peek at squeaky

My audios: #Kiki’s squeaks

My videos: #the squeaky cinema

High posts: #The Stoned Squeaker Chronicles

All of these can be found down in the tags on this post for easy access!🐝🩵🐈‍⬛✨

💚Please Read My Rules Below💚

DM Disclaimer: Due to my range of physical and mental disabilities I frequently experience brain fog and fatigue, and my social energy varies day-to-day. This means there are days I’ll chat up a storm and converse/RP with you all day if you’re available, there are days I only have the energy to send you one message, and there are days when I just can’t talk to anyone at all. Sometimes I will pop onto Tumblr just to post something I had pre-written so my blog doesn’t die but I don’t reply to my DMs because I still don’t have the energy. My silence doesn’t mean I’m not interested in talking to you or being friends!! I LOVE having friends here, getting Tumblr notifications makes me smile and some of y’all are my closest besties🥺 But I do have to pace myself with social interaction because I’m still recovering from a very serious burnout and I need to take care of myself and charge my internal battery. So if I’m quiet for a little bit it’s okay to reach out and check in but it may take me a day or so to get back to you👉👈 🐈‍⬛🩵✨

Minors: As stated in my chart, minors may follow me and reblog my posts if they so choose because I don't post NSFW content but please don't message me, I'm not comfortable with power imbalance.

NSFW: I fully respect the NSFW tickling community and have nothing against it. NSFW blogs are allowed to follow me, HOWEVER: Be chill about it!!! Do not write uncomfy comments on my posts such as "This is so HOT", that's not okay with me. Essentially, interact as though you don't have a kink and just simply think tickling is cute. As for DMs with NSFW blogs, DO NOT CONTACT me if you are a male or masc NB. I might be willing to chat with females or fem NBs, but that is at my discretion. Please respect that. I'm not interested in anyone getting horny over me or my content

RP: Do NOT jump straight into my DMs with role play requests. As stated in my chart, I will only RP with friends. "Friends" in this context means we've had several friendly interactions via comments or DMs. There are rare cases in which I will reach out to someone I've had very little interaction with and request RP if their bio has clearly stated they're down to role play with anyone, but I repeat this is RARE. It probably goes without saying based on the previous paragraph but ALL role play will be STRICTLY PLATONIC, I am NEVER at any point flirting with you regardless of your gender. If it sounds like I'm flirting, it's probably because I'm autistic and don't always understand the subtleties of human interaction, it's not on purpose.

During RP I do not like being called "good girl", that’s bedroom talk for me. Instead, feel free to call me any form of "good lee", that'll instantly melt me <3 I also don't like being licked in any way, but nomnoms and razzies are okay, as well as platonic kisses if we're chill like that :3

Oh yeah also if you're homophobic/transphobic/racist/ableist/MAGA/mistreat animals/etc. etc. gross human GO AWAY.

Thanks for reading!!🐝🩵✨

Chart template link:

[daisiesandgiggles]

My secret crush once again is @nicaliciousxo . Most days i dont think she even knows I exist at all and then BAM she tags me in a post and I melt 🫠. Her body is absolutly immaculate 😍 and I love everytime she shares a part of herself here. I hope that she smiles when she sees this and has the most amazing day!

Psssst hey beautiful @nicaliciousxo it looks like someone's crushin on ya hard today. We hope it brightens your day. Thank you Shades for joining @thattattedchic74 and I for Secret Sunday.❤️🌼

#Secret Sunday #Daisiesandgiggles

[apples-stables]

Aight. Who is ur sso ocs dating/crushing on??

[somekeepsakes]

The wonderful mutual @angelolsenwife tagged me a while ago - thank you so much ❤️

shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and list the first 10 songs that play, then tag 10 people

Left of The Dial // The Replacements

Dead Radio // Rowland S. Howard

Comfort // Makthaverskan

All Away // Nouvelle Phénomène

Sunday Light // Choir Boy

Synapse // Linea Aspera

The Element // Emil Zenko & Lizaveta Kryskina

Kreatur der Nacht // Solomun feat. Isolation Berlin

Crushin // Film School

Iron Lung // Black Marble

Tagging - but only if you want to - @velocidaixxtor, @lastflowerss, @endorstoiii, @murobrown, @postpunkpervert, @postpunkblunt, @youlittleduckhouse, @goldleafceilings, @lighten-up-squirt & @indieboysarehot