#Security Information and Event Management

[infosectrain03]

Implementing an effective Security Information and Event Management (SIEM) system is essential for securing your organization's digital infrastructure. Microsoft Sentinel is a cloud-native SIEM solution that provides organizations with sophisticated security analytics and threat intelligence to help them detect, investigate, and respond to threats more efficiently.

[oliviadlima]

Security Information and Event Management Market Growth | Global Expansion and Forecast to 2030

According to a recent report published by Allied Market Research, titled, “Security Information and Event Managements Market by Component, Deployment Model, Enterprise Size, and Industry Vertical: Global Opportunity Analysis and Industry Forecast, 2021–2030,” the global security information and event management market size was valued at $3.92 billion in 2020, and is projected to reach $18.12 billion by 2030, growing at a CAGR of 16.4% from 2021 to 2030.

The security information and event management (SIEM) market is expected to be driven by growing demand for security solutions that assist organizations in identifying possible security threats and vulnerabilities. As remote workforces, bring your own device (BYOD) and SaaS apps policies have increased in popularity, industries require the level of transparency to manage network potential risks from outside the traditional network perimeter. The advanced SIEM to be used for anomaly detection is expected to offer significant growth for the security information and event management industry in the near future. IBM Corporation’s QRadar Security Intelligence is the only known product, which qualifies for anomaly detection or behavioral analytics. The challenges in usage on SIEM in anomaly detection such as information of time to apply this analysis or efficient procedure to adjust time intervals to accommodate random and infrequent acts of humans, affect the extensive adoption of such SIEM products. However, with innovation and more refined understanding, the demand for such solutions is expected to increase during the forecast period.

Download Sample Report: https://www.alliedmarketresearch.com/request-sample/2313

On the basis of component, the solution segment dominated the overall security information and event management industry in 2020, and is expected to continue this trend throughout the security information and event management market forecast period. The rise in demand for modern SIEM tools to manage IT security is expected to drive the growth of the SIEM solution segment. The next generation SIEM is gaining momentum in the market due to its advanced features which help to tackle various challenges such as large number of events that are needed to be considered outside the syslog files which assist to move on an investigation forward; complexity of SIEM solutions; necessity of an expert personnel to handle the SIEM system; and others. Next gen platforms offer baselining capabilities, automation, and intelligence, which ensure data relevancy and noise filtration. In addition, technologies such as time normalization, metadata analysis, and file integrity monitoring deliver far advanced insights which is expected to drive the growth this segment. However, the services segment is expected to grow the most, and this trend is expected to continue during the forecast period. The growth in need for better security management, supportive government policies and rules to implement SIEM software, increase in adoption of SIEM on BYOD, and advancements in the SIEM technology has urged users to seek better knowledge and guidance to effectively implement the SIEM technology in enterprises to gain maximum output with high quality. These services make it easier to implement and use SIEM solution at the maximum efficiency and capabilities, which is expected to drive the growth of the service segment.

On the basis of industry vertical, the BFSI sector garnered the largest security information and event management market share in 2020, and is expected to continue this trend during the forecast period. Banks and financial institutions operate in a high-threat environment where efficient IT threat management is critical capability along with compliance. SIEM offers threat detection, risk monitoring, and necessary analytics to manage external and internal attacks. SIEM offers continuous risk monitoring, account monitoring, defense against external threats, risk mitigation, and risk routing. However, the healthcare sector is expected to witness highest growth in the upcoming years.

The global security information and event management market size was valued at $3.92 billion in 2020, and is projected to reach $18.12 billion by 2030, growing at a CAGR of 16.4% from 2021 to 2030. The COVID-19 outbreak has a positive impact on the growth of the security information and event managements market due to security and safety reasons. However, the outbreak of COVID-19 has affected communities globally, while governments and other sectors are trying their best to respond faster to the challenges posed by this pandemic. Furthermore, governments and businesses are increasingly asking employees to work from home or are shifting work to employees in less affected areas to maintain business continuity during the pandemic. However, the situation has accelerated the adoption of advanced technologies such as artificial intelligence (AI), machine learning (ML), automation, and IOT to control costs while improving the customer experience, which is expected to provide lucrative opportunities for security information and event managements market. Further, industries such as public sector, banking & financial sector, government sector, and healthcare sector have shown increased adoption of security information and event managements and are expected to continue using them owing to the rising focus on digitization, growing technological awareness, and need for better security systems. Increasing government initiatives to deploy advanced security solutions for better safety and convenience is anticipated to create significant growth opportunities for major players.

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Key Findings Of The Study

On the basis of component, the solution segment dominated the security information and event managements market in 2020. However, the services segment is expected to exhibit significant growth during the forecast period.

On the basis of enterprise size, the large enterprise segment dominated the security information and event managements market in 2020. However, the SMEs segment is expected to exhibit significant growth during the forecast period.

On the basis of deployment model, the on-premise segment dominated the security information and event managements market in 2020. However, the cloud segment is expected to exhibit significant growth during the forecast period.

On the basis of industry vertical, the BFSI sector accounted for the highest revenue of market in 2020; however, the healthcare sector is expected to witness the highest growth rate during the forecast period.

On the basis of region, the security information and event managements market was dominated by North America in 2020. However, Asia-Pacific is expected to witness significant growth in the coming years.

This report gives an in-depth profile of some key market players in the security information and event managements market, which includes Dell EMC, Hewlett Packard Enterprise Development LP, IBM Corporation, LogRhythm, Inc., McAfee LLC., SolarWinds, Inc., Splunk, Inc., Symantec Corporation, Trend Micro, Inc., and Trustwave Holdings Inc. This study includes market trends, security information and event management market analysis, and future estimations to determine the imminent investment pockets.

About Us: Allied Market Research (AMR) is a full-service market research and business-consulting wing of Allied Analytics LLP based in Portland, Oregon. Allied Market Research provides global enterprises as well as medium and small businesses with unmatched quality of “Market Research Reports Insights” and “Business Intelligence Solutions.” AMR has a targeted view to provide business insights and consulting to assist its clients to make strategic business decisions and achieve sustainable growth in their respective market domain.

[shredlogixinc]

Shredlogix, Inc- San Jose

Shredlogix is a Bay Area based document shredding and hard-drive destruction company with over 25 years of combined shredding experience. We are AAA NAID Certified for on-site destruction. Our offerings include: routine document shredding, purges, drop off shredding, hard-drive and media destruction and shred events.

We provide trusted, reliable paper shredding and hard drive destruction services throughout the Bay Area.

[cloudgrc]

Cloud GRC: A Modern Approach to Risk and Compliance Management

As businesses increasingly migrate to cloud environments, managing governance, risk, and compliance (GRC) has become a top priority. Cloud GRC provides a structured framework to ensure compliance with regulatory standards, mitigate security risks, and maintain operational transparency in cloud-based infrastructures. A modern approach to Cloud GRC integrates automation, AI-driven analytics, and real-time monitoring to enhance risk management and compliance efforts.

Understanding Cloud GRC

Cloud GRC refers to a set of policies, tools, and practices designed to manage governance, risk, and compliance in cloud environments. Unlike traditional GRC models, Cloud GRC adapts to the dynamic nature of cloud computing by implementing real-time monitoring, automated compliance reporting, and proactive risk assessments. This approach enables organizations to stay ahead of evolving regulatory requirements and cyber threats.

Importance of Cloud GRC in Modern Enterprises

Regulatory Compliance – Helps organizations adhere to frameworks such as GDPR, HIPAA, and ISO 27001, minimizing legal risks and financial penalties.

Enhanced Security Posture – Identifies and mitigates potential security threats through automated risk detection and real-time monitoring.

Operational Transparency – Provides visibility into cloud operations, ensuring accountability and informed decision-making.

Scalability and Flexibility – Cloud GRC solutions adapt to the evolving needs of businesses as they expand their cloud infrastructure.

Cost Efficiency – Reduces compliance costs through automation, minimizing the need for manual audits and risk assessments.

Key Components of a Modern Cloud GRC Strategy

Automated Compliance Management – AI-powered tools continuously monitor compliance status and generate real-time reports.

Risk Assessment and Mitigation – Identifies vulnerabilities in cloud environments and implements proactive risk mitigation measures.

Identity and Access Management (IAM) – Ensures secure access to cloud resources through role-based access controls and authentication protocols.

Continuous Monitoring and Auditing – Tracks security incidents and compliance adherence to ensure cloud infrastructure integrity.

Policy Enforcement and Governance – Defines and enforces policies to align cloud operations with business objectives and industry regulations.

Challenges in Implementing Cloud GRC

While Cloud GRC offers numerous benefits, businesses face several challenges in its implementation:

Complex Regulatory Landscape – Keeping up with diverse and evolving compliance requirements across different regions and industries.

Integration with Existing Systems – Ensuring seamless integration of Cloud GRC solutions with legacy IT infrastructures.

Data Security and Privacy Concerns – Managing sensitive data across multi-cloud and hybrid cloud environments while ensuring compliance.

Resource Constraints – Allocating sufficient budget and skilled personnel to maintain Cloud GRC frameworks effectively.

Best Practices for Effective Cloud GRC Implementation

Develop a Comprehensive Cloud GRC Strategy – Align GRC policies with business goals and regulatory requirements.

Leverage Automation and AI – Utilize advanced analytics and machine learning to streamline compliance and risk management.

Conduct Regular Risk Assessments – Continuously evaluate and mitigate risks in cloud environments.

Ensure Strong Identity and Access Management – Implement multi-factor authentication and role-based access controls.

Educate and Train Employees – Foster a compliance-first culture by providing ongoing training on security and regulatory best practices.

Adopt a Zero-Trust Security Model – Verify every access request to minimize potential threats and data breaches.

Future of Cloud GRC

The future of Cloud GRC will be shaped by advancements in AI, blockchain, and automation. AI-powered analytics will enhance predictive risk management, while blockchain technology will introduce tamper-proof compliance tracking. Organizations investing in modern Cloud GRC strategies will gain a competitive advantage by ensuring regulatory compliance, strengthening cybersecurity, and improving operational efficiency.

Conclusion

Cloud GRC is an essential component of modern risk and compliance management, enabling organizations to navigate regulatory challenges and security threats effectively. By adopting automated tools, continuous monitoring, and AI-driven insights, businesses can ensure compliance, mitigate risks, and build a resilient cloud infrastructure. As cloud technology continues to evolve, a proactive Cloud GRC approach will be crucial in maintaining governance, security, and operational integrity in the digital era.

[industrynewsupdates]

Security Information And Event Management Market: Key Trends and Growth Drivers

The global security information and event management market size is expected to reach USD 11.62 billion by 2030, growing at a CAGR of 14.5% from 2023 to 2030, according to the new reports of Grand View Research, Inc. Security information and event management (SIEM) systems enhance threat detection capabilities through the utilization of advanced analytics and machine learning algorithms.

By analyzing vast volumes of security data, these platforms can proactively identify and respond to emerging risks by identifying patterns, anomalies, and correlations. Integrating with threat intelligence feeds and services offers significant advantages for SIEM platforms. By incorporating up-to-date threat intelligence data, SIEM systems can effectively recognize and respond to established attack vectors, emerging threats, and indicators of compromise (IOCs), thereby bolstering their ability to safeguard against potential security breaches.

In today's ever-evolving cybersecurity landscape, organizations face a multitude of complex threats, including malware, ransomware, phishing, and insider risks. To effectively combat these challenges, a robust security infrastructure must include a SIEM solution, providing users with real-time threat detection and response capabilities.

Gather more insights about the market drivers, restrains and growth of the Security Information And Event Management Market

Security Information and Event Management Market Report Highlights

• The software segment accounts for the largest market share of over 65.1% in 2022 and is anticipated to maintain its dominance over the forecast period owing to extensive event correlation, alerting, and process automation capabilities of software solution to enable effective incident response features across organizations

• The cloud segment is expected to observe the highest CAGR of 15.8% during the forecast period. In cloud environments such as Infrastructure as a Service (IaaS), Platform as a Service (PaaS), and Software as a Service (SaaS), security events can be monitored and analyzed with the help of cloud-based SIEM solutions, thereby enabling organizations to have complete visibility and control over the entirety of their IT infrastructure

• The small & medium enterprises enterprise segment is anticipated to witness an exceptional CAGR of 15.2% during the forecast period. SIEM technology offers SMEs a centralized and economical way to improve their security posture and safeguard their valuable assets and sensitive data, thereby surging the market demand across organizations

• The IT & telecom segment is anticipated to register a considerable CAGR of 16.3% over the forecast period. An ecosystem that combines edge computing, cloud services, on-premise architecture, Artificial Intelligence (AI), the Internet of Things (IoT), and other cutting-edge technologies is complicated and diverse. Due to the high risk of cyberattacks in such a setting, Security information and event management (SIEM) solutions must be used by the IT & telecom sector

• North America accounted for the largest market share of over 32.7% in 2022 and is expected to retain its position over the forecast period. Due to the highly developed IT infrastructure in the region, the dangers and complexity of cyberattacks are increasing, which is driving the demand for security information and event management

• Key players in the SIEM market have an extended operating history, a large customer base, and significant competitive strengths. In addition to the inorganic growth strategies, vendors emphasize improving after-sale service offerings to ensure periodic maintenance of installed products

Security Information And Event Management Market Segmentation

Grand View Research has segmented the global security information and event management (SIEM) market based on solution, deployment, enterprise size, vertical, and region:

Security Information and Event Management (SIEM) Solution Outlook (Revenue, USD Billion, 2018 - 2030)

• Software

• Service

Security Information and Event Management (SIEM) Deployment Outlook (Revenue, USD Billion, 2018 - 2030)

• Cloud

• On-premise

Security Information and Event Management (SIEM) Organization Outlook (Revenue, USD Billion, 2018 - 2030)

• Small And Medium-Sized Enterprises (SMEs)

• Large Enterprises

Security Information and Event Management (SIEM) Vertical Outlook (Revenue, USD Billion, 2018 - 2030)

• BFSI

• IT and Telecom

• Retail & E-commerce

• Healthcare and Life Sciences

• Manufacturing

• Government & Defense

• Energy & Utilities

• Others

Security Information and Event Management (SIEM) Regional Outlook (Revenue, USD Billion, 2018 - 2030)

• North America

o U.S.

o Canada

• Europe

o UK

o Germany

o France

o Italy

o Spain

• Asia Pacific

o China

o India

o Japan

o Australia

o South Korea

• Latin America

o Brazil

o Mexico

o Argentina

• Middle East and Africa

o UAE

o Saudi Arabia

o South Africa

Order a free sample PDF of the Security Information And Event Management Market Intelligence Study, published by Grand View Research.

[nadirelzouki]

Simple-Security-Information-and-Event-Management-SIEM

[afloweroutofstone]

The Trump administration accidentally included the conservative editor of The Atlantic in a group chat where they were discussing, in great detail, the US bombing campaign in Yemen

In all, 18 individuals were listed as members of this group, including various National Security Council officials; Steve Witkoff, President Trump’s Middle East and Ukraine negotiator; Susie Wiles, the White House chief of staff; and someone identified only as “S M,” which I took to stand for Stephen Miller. I appeared on my own screen only as “JG.”

...I had very strong doubts that this text group was real, because I could not believe that the national-security leadership of the United States would communicate on Signal about imminent war plans. I also could not believe that the national security adviser to the president would be so reckless as to include the editor in chief of The Atlantic in such discussions with senior U.S. officials, up to and including the vice president...

At this point, a fascinating policy discussion commenced. The account labeled “JD Vance” responded at 8:16: “Team, I am out for the day doing an economic event in Michigan. But I think we are making a mistake.” (Vance was indeed in Michigan that day.) The Vance account goes on to state, “3 percent of US trade runs through the suez. 40 percent of European trade does. There is a real risk that the public doesn’t understand this or why it’s necessary. The strongest reason to do this is, as POTUS said, to send a message.”

The Vance account then goes on to make a noteworthy statement, considering that the vice president has not deviated publicly from Trump’s position on virtually any issue. “I am not sure the president is aware how inconsistent this is with his message on Europe right now. There’s a further risk that we see a moderate to severe spike in oil prices. I am willing to support the consensus of the team and keep these concerns to myself. But there is a strong argument for delaying this a month, doing the messaging work on why this matters, seeing where the economy is, etc.”...

At 8:27, a message arrived from the “Pete Hegseth” account. “VP: I understand your concerns – and fully support you raising w/ POTUS. Important considerations, most of which are tough to know how they play out (economy, Ukraine peace, Gaza, etc). I think messaging is going to be tough no matter what – nobody knows who the Houthis are – which is why we would need to stay focused on: 1) Biden failed & 2) Iran funded.”

The Hegseth message goes on to state, “Waiting a few weeks or a month does not fundamentally change the calculus. 2 immediate risks on waiting: 1) this leaks, and we look indecisive; 2) Israel takes an action first – or Gaza cease fire falls apart – and we don’t get to start this on our own terms. We can manage both. We are prepared to execute, and if I had final go or no go vote, I believe we should. This [is] not about the Houthis. I see it as two things: 1) Restoring Freedom of Navigation, a core national interest; and 2) Reestablish deterrence, which Biden cratered. But, we can easily pause. And if we do, I will do all we can to enforce 100% OPSEC”—operations security. “I welcome other thoughts.”...

The account identified as “JD Vance” addressed a message at 8:45 to @Pete Hegseth: “if you think we should do it let’s go. I just hate bailing Europe out again.” (The administration has argued that America’s European allies benefit economically from the U.S. Navy’s protection of international shipping lanes.)

It was the next morning, Saturday, March 15, when this story became truly bizarre.

At 11:44 a.m., the account labeled “Pete Hegseth” posted in Signal a “TEAM UPDATE.” I will not quote from this update, or from certain other subsequent texts. The information contained in them, if they had been read by an adversary of the United States, could conceivably have been used to harm American military and intelligence personnel, particularly in the broader Middle East, Central Command’s area of responsibility. What I will say, in order to illustrate the shocking recklessness of this Signal conversation, is that the Hegseth post contained operational details of forthcoming strikes on Yemen, including information about targets, weapons the U.S. would be deploying, and attack sequencing.

The only person to reply to the update from Hegseth was the person identified as the vice president. “I will say a prayer for victory,” Vance wrote. (Two other users subsequently added prayer emoji.)

According to the lengthy Hegseth text, the first detonations in Yemen would be felt two hours hence, at 1:45 p.m. eastern time. So I waited in my car in a supermarket parking lot. If this Signal chat was real, I reasoned, Houthi targets would soon be bombed. At about 1:55, I checked X and searched Yemen. Explosions were then being heard across Sanaa, the capital city.

[reidmotif]

I’ve Got My Eye On You

Summary: Reader is a Special Surveillance agent assigned to spy on Spencer. He manages to see through her cover, and thoroughly enjoys the confrontation that follows.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, f!masturbation, slight dubcon regarding recorded sex, heavily based on that one scene in scandal, iykyk.

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

I’d always been good at watching people. 

My life had been spent mostly to myself, divulging the information people offered without even realizing. When you talk less, you learn that body language, passing remarks, or even the quirk of an eyebrow gives away more than anyone ever realized– maybe more than an actual conversation at times. 

And I took it all in stride, not a single detail left unanalyzed. People were always surprised when I’d mention my observations, finding a way to explain a seemingly unexplainable situation, those around me wondering how on Earth I could’ve been privy to that. I’d always shrug at their queries. 

Pay more attention, I guess. 

It wasn’t a surprise that I’d ended up here, I suppose, in the end, as an Investigative Specialist for the FBI. I doubt that my listening skills were exactly what landed me the job, but I’d like to believe they contributed more than they actually did. Regardless, I’d never expected the result of the decisions I’d made over the years to lead to this– involved in spying on an agent of our own. 

The infamous "Dr Reid".

His specific circumstances had been shrouded in secrecy and mystery, apparently having just been let out of prison. (Prison? How’s he an agent then? Anyway, not my problem).

 The Bureau had been curious about erratic behavior on his part, and the string of discrepancies involving the unit he was involved in. Apparently, there had been multiple unforeseen and unprecedented events all occurring under the same team in a relatively small time-frame, and despite smaller investigations, nothing came out of them to warrant any real disciplinary action.  Probably why they brought me in, in the hopes of changing that. 

I’d been assigned to put up small, virtually undetectable cameras and listening devices within his apartment. 24/7 home surveillance, no exceptions. I couldn’t help but think that the guy really should invest in better apartment security, despite how easy his naivete made my job. His lack of caution surprised me, given the details I’d been given. For a guy who had a penchant for being framed by the ghosts of his past, he sure didn’t live like it.  Even as an FBI agent, he essentially had no technology to counter my own, and the height of his protection was a standard deadbolt. Was he insane? Unaware, somehow? Only time would tell, I suppose. And I had plenty of that, to watch and deduce the nature of his mind on my own terms. 

My time spent with Spencer resulted in one, overwhelming conclusion. Spencer Reid lived a relatively quiet life. His apartment was barely used, honestly, given the sporadic nature of his job. (Which was a shame, in my opinion, because it’s a nice apartment).  When he was at home, he seemed to remain quite unassuming. The positions I’d see him assume often were that of being hunched over on an aging leather sofa, pouring himself into grading papers, or creating lesson plans for his students. Oh, right. Did I mention he was also a professor? He is. I’d assume he likes the job, given how much of himself he gives into it, or maybe that was just who he was as a person. I wasn’t sure yet. 

I monitored his life outside of the apartment occasionally as well, just to see what intel I could gather with further investigation. There wasn’t much. Coffee shops. Book shops. Coffee. Books. Coffee- God, does the guy do anything else with his life? 

Most days, though, I’d liken him to butter spread too thinly over toast. Sleepless from nightmares that would have him walking around his apartment until daylight broke through the window panes. I felt exhausted just watching the guy, and it seemed insane that he could continue to live on when he left that apartment at the break of dawn. It didn’t seem like he had anyone to talk to, honestly. From what I was seeing, he wasn’t a threat to the Bureau, just a sad, middle-aged man who’d been dealt the most unfair of hands in life. 

I’m sure there’s a moral somewhere in all that. To waste your potential on something that gives so little back. Oh, well. My report was nearly finished at this point, and the most I could recommend the higher-ups was to get Spencer a better therapist, maybe. This one wasn’t really helping, it seemed. Besides that, his personal behavior wasn’t indicative of anything worrying to the interests of those managing him. 

At long last, it was my final night of watching him. Coincidentally, the date lined up with Halloween, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to finally be free of this specific survey job. Don’t get me wrong, Spencer seemed nice- but God, his life was boring. I don’t want to say it was like watching paint dry,  out of respect, but previous targets had offered at least some part of their life to be interested within. Spencer had nothing. No friends over, no gossip-like phone conversations, no drunk wanderings home. Nothing! I know he didn’t sign up to be watched, but God. 

Like, come on. Give me anything here. 

Needless to say, I’d become accustomed to the quiet, and this night was no different. If he was following schedule, he should be home right about … now. 

Now? 

Now… 

Silence. 

Spencer was definitely a creature of habit, so to not see him adhere to the routine he’d so meticulously stuck to in the past was a bit jarring, but I assumed he was just running late. 

A few hours later, I reasoned he must be running really really late. It was bordering on midnight, and he still wasn’t home. I checked train schedules, possible reports of a car crash, just about anything that could keep him from his scheduled appearance at home. 

I was just about to call my supervisor to look into whether or not he’d been called out on a surprise case, but that’s when the door of his apartment creaked open, and I felt my shoulders deflate in relief. Okay, he was home. He was going to go to bed and- 

He wasn’t alone. 

Spencer was dressed in all black, a leather belt adorned with a gold belt buckle being the only color his outfit brought. He wore tiny devil’s ears upon his head, the headband pushing down on the mop of curls that sat atop his head. He looked absolutely delicious, if I must say myself, and it seemed the woman in his arms would agree with me. 

He practically pulled her into his apartment, kicking his door in with his leg before slightly fumbling with the lock. As soon as the mechanism slipped into place, his hands were all over her, pressing her flush against his body, as if he couldn’t bear to have any space between them. 

For all the time I’d been watching him, none of his behavior indicated the presence of any kind of significant other, so this girl must be a stranger. If this is how Spencer treated strangers though, I was surprised he didn’t have a barrage of women lining up at his door every night. 

His lips absolutely devoured the girl, his hand cradling the side of her face, before his thigh slipped in between her legs, possibly to soothe a building ache that had built up there in the time they’d spent together, which I found entirely possible, considering I, personally, was heated from simply watching. 

I watched the pixels on the screen with such precision, innocuous shades of red, green and blue painting the most sinful of images. I found myself noting the way his hand snuck up the girls’ dress, the way her breathing hitched as she pulled back, watching as Spencer presumably played with her clit. I could feel myself squeezing my thighs together, recognizing just how wrong it was to be turned on by the scene in front of me, but I couldn’t stop myself. It wasn’t as if this was the first time a target had behaved sexually in front of me. (Or in front of the camera, I suppose.) I’d seen and heard just about anything you could think of, but this was different- in a way. To see Spencer so filthy, so confident, so- interesting. It lit a fire in me that burned with every passing moment he touched this girl. 

I’m able to watch him circle over her panties in a way that has her groaning directly into his ear, a smug grin plastering his face as he watches her every reaction. 

“Like that?” He murmurs, and I’ve never heard his voice so fucking deep.

She nods frantically, and it only serves to widen his grin. I can feel myself rocking slightly in my own chair, doing anything to try and soothe the fast growing arousal within me, unable to stop from imagining myself in her place. His hands, the feel of hot breath down my neck- 

I’m stopped dead in my tracks, however, when his eyes suddenly shift to the camera closest to him, his eyebrow raising, as if in challenge. He continues to whisper in the girl’s ear, and has the galls to wink. I’m horrified, a very sudden and intense heat rising to my cheeks. I can only watch for a second more, before he’s suddenly pulling her away, and I realize he’s taken her  within one of the only blind spots within the apartment. 

I’m scrambling to turn off the feed, stunned into silence whilst, my heart beating uncontrollably and eccentrically. Oh god. He knew. He knew and he did that?! 

I stare into the empty space, a multitude of thoughts inhabiting my brainscape. On one hand, the aplomb shown in that situation was commendable, since most people would react to the knowledge that they’d been secretly watched in their own home for the past few months in a much more hostile way. On the other hand, how did he even acquire that knowledge? The cameras were virtually undetectable, and he’d never let on that he was aware of their presence, and I’d know, considering how closely I’d watched him. 

I shake off the thoughts, focusing on something other than the overwhelming mortification coursing through me now.  

Alright, tomorrow, get into his apartment, remove the cameras, and hopefully never have to look at the man again. In any capacity, honestly. 

When daylight broke, I turned on the cameras for the final time, a bit more sheepish, knowing he was aware of the devices plaguing his home. However, it seemed like he was once again pretending like he wasn’t aware of the looming existence of them, sending his female companion off her merry way once they woke up, before going about his normal routine, heading out of the apartment for what was most likely his morning coffee and then afternoon lecture at the university. 

That was my cue. I turned off the cameras,  quickly making my way out to sneak into his residence, the heavy door offering little resistance to my advances, my movements quiet and undetectable. 

I’m  in the process of removing the final camera I had placed in his bedroom, hidden behind a copy of  The Sign of Four. Doyle. He had good taste, I could give him that. 

I’m just about to turn around and get the hell out of there, when I hear a voice behind me. 

“I noticed that one first, you know.”

I turn around slowly, embarrassed and slightly fearful to find Spencer’s eyes meeting mine. I’d watched him for so long, but seeing him now– his eyes were so beautiful. The camera didn’t do him justice.

He continues, despite the silence. “The other ones were harder to spot, I’ll give you that, but once I knew where they were, it was a bit obvious, don’t you think?” 

I’m speechless. My mouth is agape, and all he seems to do is smile at my lack of prose. 

“Don’t look so surprised. I know this apartment. I’m not here a lot, but I spend enough time to know when things have been shifted around.” His tone is cheeky, and he pauses, almost theatrically to add on:

“I’m sure you knew that though.”  His smile turns into more of a smirk. 

God, did he have to be so hot?

“Are you going to complain to the Bureau?” I manage out, keeping my eyes steady on him. 

“Did you find anything of note to tell them?” He responds, tilting his head with curiosity. 

I shake my head vehemently. “No, um. Nothing pertinent to say.” I get my words out in a hurry, my gaze continually trained on him. 

He meets my eyes with the same stare. “Then I don’t have much of a reason to complain.” 

I nod solemnly. I’m wondering where this situation will lead- what either of our next moves are. Before I can ponder long though, he surprises me and takes a step closer.

“I saw you, you know.” He says. “Thought I was going insane when the same pretty girl kept showing up at the bookstore and coffee shop out of the blue, but I’ve never been one to believe in coincidences.” 

“Oh.” I whisper. I really wasn’t as good as I thought I was. 

“You really shouldn’t beat yourself up.” He says, chuckling with some mirth. “Again, I’m observant. I notice these things. That, and you’re pretty.” He says, forward. “So, more of a reason to notice.” 

“Oh.” I reply, yet again, dumbfounded by the events currently transpiring. 

“Yes, oh.” He chuckles, before he starts to move closer yet again. “Tell me. Were you watching last night?” He murmurs, his voice dropping a bit deeper as he directly addresses the elephant in the room. 

I give a movement of affirmation, because at this point, what could he do? What could I do? 

“So you saw.” He mumbles, moving to position himself right in front of me, his eyes darkened and laser focused on my figure. 

“Yes.” I whisper, my voice hushed as our proximity decreased, his breath fanning out over my face now. I’d be uncomfortable, if I wasn’t so distracted. 

“Tell me.” He whispers, letting his calloused finger finally touch my skin, running down my neck. “Did it turn you on? Watching me with her?” 

I feel the familiar heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks, my eyes suddenly widening not only due to the sudden proximity, but also the scandalous nature of his words. Did he mean for me to watch? Was that his plan all along? What was this sick and twisted game he was playing?

“Did it.. get you off?” He whispers, his lips leaning in to kiss lightly at the side of my neck where his finger once was. 

I freeze, leaning into his touch and going statue-like all at once. I can’t help the shakiness of my voice when I reply. “I.. wasn’t neutral.” 

“Mm.” He murmurs, kissing now at my jawline. “Did you get off? When she did?” He whispers.

“I didn’t watch that long.” I reply, helplessly, as I feel his hands start to envelop my waist, pulling me closer to him. 

“What a shame.” He mumbles. “I think you would’ve liked the show. I did it for you.” 

At this point, I can barely speak, a slight moan escaping me instead of a coherent reply as his lips continue to leave warm, wet kisses on the expanse of my flesh. 

“I’m sure you’re curious.” He says, his voice soft and seductive. “Would you like me to show you what we did?”

There’s no hesitation, finally, a resounding thought I can translate from brain-to-mouth for him, in complete certainty.

“Yes.” I manage out, breathlessly. 

He makes a noise of satisfaction, quickly pushing me onto the bed. 

“I’d already gotten her wet by touching her before, but if my suspicions are correct.” He murmurs, his hands working deftly to undo my jeans and feel the wetness that had accumulated in between my thighs. “You already are.” He finishes. 

I let out a small whimper as his fingers touch the heated flesh, unable to help my sensitivity to his small, calculated strokes over my clit through my underwear. His fingers starts to move a bit more aggressively, upon feeling the wet patch that had formed there, the flimsy fabric doing little to hide the stickiness he was now collecting on his fingers. He quickly pulls them off as well though, bringing his slightly damp fingers to his mouth, tasting the hint of my arousal that had accumulated there. His eyes were dark, watching my face for any reaction, and in that moment, I know all he can see is pure want. 

I can see the same hunger within his eyes, and I feel a rush of pride as the approval radiates off of him. 

“What next?” I whisper, already desperate for his next slew of ministrations. I don’t care how needy I looked. I was needy. I’d spent so long watching him, and now he was here.

“She wanted my mouth.” He murmurs, kneeling at the edge of the bed. His thumb brushes over my clit, his tongue running against plump, pink lips, wetting them, watching over me with a predatory gaze. 

Before I can respond, he’s suddenly everywhere, ducking his head and allowing his tongue to brush over my sex in broad, wet strokes. My response is immediate, my hips bucking up to meet him in a frenzied motion. It seems that he relishes in whatever control he can have in this situation, because he quickly holds down my hips in a firm grip, squeezing the fat there while he continued to ravage me. 

I can barely look at him, pretty brown locks splayed in his face, his lips moving hypnotically against my cunt. Little whimpers escape me, absolutely aching for more. He seems to catch on, and flicks his tongue over me, before suckling against my clit. It’s wet, messy, and the picture of debauchery– and it’s enough to drive me over the edge, my hands gripping the sheets as I cry out his name. 

He seems to be unaffected, getting off his knees, his mouth glistening with my release. The sight makes me wish he could do it again, but before I can get a word in, he’s positioning himself over me, caging me against the bed. 

“Then I fucked her.” He whispers, starting to undo his belt with his free hand. “Can I?” 

I nod, feeling a wave of anticipation, before registering the sensation of the head of his cock nudging my entrance. I feel my chest tighten, watching him with bated breath, absolutely exhilarated. 

“Relax.” He whispers, kissing the lobe of my ear. “You’re in good hands.” 

He utters the last word, before sliding into me, a hushed gasp leaving the both of us. He groans in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the feel of my warm, wet cunt around him. He takes a moment, before he’s setting a steady pace, his hips bucking rhythmically into me in a way that’s designed to bring us both so much pleasure. 

I can’t help the string of moans that come out with every slide of his cock inside me, my legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer than he already is. My hands grip onto his shirt, clawing onto the fabric to find any purchase, wanting– no, needing him on me. 

Is it odd to wish a stranger could crawl into your skin itself? 

“Fuck, Spencer.” I moan, unabashedly. “You feel so good.”

“You do too.” He groans, his arms braced on either side of my head before gently lowering himself to crash his lips against mine in a messy kiss. 

I can feel myself barreling towards release, as is he, if the twitch of his cock inside me were to mean anything. It’s not long before his hand reaches in between where our bodies are met, rubbing my clit in fast, small circles. It’s intense in the best way possible, my body barely being able to process how good it felt in the moment. 

“Come for me.” He moans, in between kisses. “Wanna feel you around me. Please.”

I can’t help but obey his words, my cunt convulsing around him in obedience as he subsequently finds his release inside me, groaning loudly as his hips thrust erratically. 

He pulls out, and we’re a tangle of limbs, sweaty and sated, breathing heavy. 

Of course, it’s him, yet again, to break the silence. 

“Two things.” He mumbles, breathlessly. 

“Mm.” I reply, weakly, my head a mess of airiness and complacency after the orgasm he’d just brought me to. 

“One. I want your name.” He says, rolling to his side to get a better look at my face. 

“That can be arranged.” I murmur, nodding dreamily. 

“Second.” He whispers, kissing my cheek. His voice takes on a teasing quality to it, before leaning to brush his lips against my ear.  

“You missed a camera. Behind the plant. They don’t stop recording, do they?” 

okay wowww. clearly this was meant for halloween, if you couldn't tell! this is one of those pieces where i'm like.. hmm .. do i like this? question mark? do i want to put it out? hmm .. but regardless, i hope you guys enjoyed it!! please, please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed!!! it is sooo important as an author that i get some feedback and know what you guys think, in any capacity. i truly appreciate all of it <33 thank you for reading, thank you for everything!!!

[irisintheafterglow]

you make loving fun

summary: last time you checked, itoshi sae was terrible with children...right?

cw/tags: crack...just a lot of bllk boys interacting with kids, established relationship, ooc sae if you squint, occurs just after u-20 game

wc: 2.5k

note: this was meant to just be a drabble but ended up being a one-shot so...surprise! this came to me in a dream LMAO so hopefully it makes sense.

as you carefully line up the excited kids outside of the blue lock complex, you're almost grateful that ego doesn't greet you; from anri's descriptions of him, it sounded like he would frighten the children from ever thinking of a soccer ball ever again. it's just her, a few security guards, and--

"oh my god, is that itoshi sae?"

you stiffen and look up from your clipboard, something between leaping and sinking occurring in your heart. he wore his signature bored expression, but you could catch the corner of his mouth twitch when he made eye contact with you. ever the drama queen, your boyfriend (whose relationship status was yet to be disclosed to the public) had failed to inform you that he would be making an appearance at the first-ever 'blue lock youth outreach day,' considering that he had nothing but dry observations after the u-20 game. you were under the impression that he wanted nothing to do with the program, and figured that his sudden participation was a way to get back at you for being so consumed with work.

in hindsight, the collab seemed like a good enough idea. you, the pr manager of the largest youth soccer league in the country, and anri, an acquaintance you'd met through piano lessons who conveniently has a job in the most cutting-edge soccer training program in history. it was a headache, at first, especially with a certain moody player from madrid trying to convince you that it was a waste of time (anything was a waste of time if it wasn't with him). but, dozens of emails and a stack of field trip signatures later, you were loading thirty of the brightest soccer minds you knew--albeit between the ages of eight and thirteen--onto a school bus and headed toward the pentagonal fortress in the mountains.

"what are you doing here?" you ask him as evenly as possible while anri guides you and the kids through the maze of concrete hallways. "you hate children."

"hate is a strong word," he deadpans, his attention flicking to you when you answer with nothing more than an eyeroll. "can i not support the next generation of footballers?"

"you don't even support the current generation," you mumble. "i think it's fair to say this isn't usually your kind of event."

"it is when my partner has been ghosting me for it," he replies. some would think sae's declaration is nothing more than a push of your buttons, but you know him well enough that he was being purposefully petty. "i came to see what the big fuss is about."

"ghosting is a strong word," you mimic. he smirks, just barely. "radio silent, sure, but not enough for you to fly across the world to see some people you don't even like."

"god forbid i do something like miss you, cariño," he remarks with unexpected fondness underneath the blankness of his expression. "as professional and secretive as we keep things, your absence from my life is always noticeable."

"i was gonna call you later," you offer, and he narrows his eyes. "give you updates on how successful the event was and whatnot."

"phone calls aren't enough," he concludes. "i am here to support you, not whatever the brass are trying to concoct."

"how romantic," you chuckle. "i hope you'll play nice today, then?"

"only for you. not anyone else."

"with the kids and the blue lock players?" something in his jaw tightens, but he relents nonetheless.

"fine. i will be cordial with them, too."

"you really do love me." you can't help the grin that breaks onto your face, but you're back to perfect professionalism a second later. with his phone on silent and one of his managers mitigating the rest of his team, he was content to breathe the same air as you before the chaos of being a football star reinvaded his life.

"mmm, something like that." for now, this was his closest thing to peace.

the other blue lock players seem to mirror your initial shock from sae's presence, though most of their demeanors change upon the entrance of the young, prospective soccer stars. the kids are chomping at the bit to get their cleats on and practically climb over each other to start drills with each player. the files anri had sent to you proved handy, as you instantly recognized who was who based on the skills they were teaching the kids.

bachira had half a dozen following him through a dribbling drill, their movements all in perfect precision like a line of ducklings. when one ball went astray, he shifted the entire formation in a lesson on 'improvising.' yukimiya and karasu, similarly, were teaching how to steal from a player whose dribbling leaves your head spinning.

chigiri was running sprints with his group, one by one, and advising them when their best opportunity would be to accelerate based on what he observed. he had a line spanning half the field, eagerly waiting to race the fastest striker in the program like he was a carnival game. aryu provided additional recommendations on when to leap and use height as a weapon, something the youngest and shortest kids quickly internalized with a sparkle in their eyes.

nagi didn't say much, which was fine, since reo was there to fill in his blanks; the kids in their group were currently balancing balls on various parts of their bodies, including every possible angle on their foot.

barou, to your surprise, was not running a drill at all. instead, he had started a demonstration on how to properly braid the girls' hair back, how to do it on oneself, and how to do it on others. when you ask anri about it, she shrugs and explains that he has two sisters. you didn't question where he got all the hair ties from.

sitting against the wall, isagi was patiently making conversation with some of the quieter kids who tended to be more shy in new situations. they fidgeted with the grass beneath their fingers and smiled at him as they opened up about where they wanted to go with soccer. rin stood an awkward distance away and would stare at you occasionally, like he was trying to figure you out. guess both itoshi brothers have a habit of brooding and glaring.

you were making a point to avoid over-observing your boyfriend, but couldn't help noticing that he truly did not have a knack for coaching. interacting with children was never sae's strong point, and you tended to be the one to get down on their level and speak in a manner understandable to them. sae, on the other hand, once told you, verbatim, "kids are odd things. how do people deal with them?" thankfully, the kids in his group were too starstruck to notice how aloof their leader was and dutifully followed him through the same old drills their normal coaches ordered.

it was all fun and games until the children came up with a game they affectionately called 'steal from sae.' the goal was simple: steal the ball from sae as he tried to travel from one end of the field to the other and make a goal. the game started out as a group of five versus one, which he cleared without breaking a sweat. then, the five called over five of their friends, which soon turned into fifteen, which ultimately became the entire group of thirty children descending upon your boyfriend. the blue lock players observed the first few rounds from the sidelines, sadistically amused by the new challenge inflicted on the older itoshi brother. that is, until he barely dodges a wave of ten children and precisely positions the ball with the outside of his foot...right in front of isagi.

"let's go, rin's shadow," sae taunts and takes off, leaving a bewildered isagi to receive the ball in a panic and abruptly start running from the herd of youth-sized cleats coming his way.

"oh, wow, there's a lot of you," isagi nervously stutters. seven of your thirty break off to mark sae; the rest surround isagi, who makes a snap decision to send a long pass to the nearest person outside of the shrinking circle. "all up to you now, rin!" the second itoshi is fast, but chigiri's pupils are quick studies. three runners come at rin from the front, left, and right, blocking his passing opportunities.

"good acceleration, everyone," praises chigiri from the sidelines and rin fixes him with a scowl.

"shouldn't you be helping me, half-baked hair? let's see you get in on this mess," rin snarls, though it only hypes up the kids more.

"aww, are the little people stressing you out, rin?" yukimiya asks patronizingly, dancing around a group trying to corner him.

"shut your mouth, glasses. we're outnumbered here," rin shoots back, a little redder in the face. "and you all stress me out enough." if there was anything that amped up the kids' competitive spirits, it was seeing their opposition get riled up. though chigiri is completely open when rin passes him the ball, one of otoya's stealthy proteges makes quick work of stealing the ball and running it toward the opposite end, away from sae's goal.

"alright, show me what you learned, kiddo," karasu challenges as he rushes the mini-ninja, though you could tell he wasn't using all of his energy. none of them were, and you theorize that the blue lock players were actually enjoying this little back and forth between them and the kids. the game was a chance to not only play as one huge team, but also assess how much the next generation grasped from their lessons. from the way ten kids were now marking sae and the rest were attempting to curb karasu's trajectory, it seemed the odds were somewhat even.

otoya's student makes a short pass to one of bachira's, whose eyes are practically glowing as the ball weaves in and out of her legs like a snake. she and eight other girls have matching dutch braids keeping their hair out of their eyes, the day's crown achievement for barou.

"steal from her and i kill you, isagi!" he bellows despite being a blue lock player, barreling toward his team's incoming strikers and clearing a path for one of his girls to get closer to the other goal.

"i wasn't going to!?" your youngest kids are currently trapping isagi in a bear hug, preventing him from getting anywhere close to the ball. "i'm a little preoccupied!"

those in barou's path split with all the urgency of running from a freight train, leaving the girl to run freely down the middle. anri has appeared by your side and is watching with delight, snapping photos and taking videos that were sure to end up as positive pr for blue lock.

you catch him stalking up the right flank, evading children in one-on-ones and making steady progress toward the ball.

"watch out for sae! watch out for sae!" you call out and his head snaps to you, a look of bewilderment at your betrayal overtaking his carefree face. before he can get the ball, your kids run and tackle him, dogpiling on top of his body until the whistle sounds in the kids' victory. they cheer, still smothering your boyfriend, and you tense in anticipation of his harsh command to get them off of him.

but the only noise is whoops of celebration, high-fives, and pats on the back.

and when you catch a glimpse of sae's face as he's trapped under a mountain of giggling children, he's smiling.

---

later, when you're lying with your back against his bare chest and his forearm securely across your waist, you muster up the courage to ask.

"so, do you still hate kids?" he can hear you suppressing your smirk. he hums thoughtfully against your shoulder, the reverberation sending goosebumps across your arms.

"i need to get to know people to hate them."

"and?"

"didn't get to know 'em enough," he murmurs. "guess i'll just have to visit you again at work. for professional reasons, obviously."

"yeah," you agree, flipping to face him and brushing a strand of pink hair from his pretty face. he catches your fingers in his and kisses your knuckles, settling your hand right above his heart. "professional reasons."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[sightseertrespasser]

Odds of Survival part 9

Jazz has an itty bitty teeny weeny severe mental breakdown.

Credit once more to @keferon for starting this au.

———————————————————————

Jazz never thought he’d find himself deeply empathizing with the xenomorph from Alien, but here he was.

Doing freak shit.

A lone lifeform trapped on a spaceship with no idea how their technology works, no means of escape and no way to sustain themselves. Skittering across the ceiling and one wrong move away from murdering someone on contact.

Plus, I pop out of my mecha like an actual motherfucking chest burster. So I’m sure that’ll go over GREAT.

The parallels were compounding into existential crisis territory.

It got way too fucking close handling that checkup with the medic. Trying to keep his cool felt like he was trapped in an hours long quick time event. Every question had to be snap judged for the safest possible answer. Completely make shit up and risk getting caught in the act, don’t give away any information and they’ll know you’re hiding something.

Jazz juggled that damn Catch 22 like a professional. Thank you.

Case in point, while one of his mechas arms was still non functional, Jazz managed to maneuver his actual arm inside the cabin to grope around for some water to chug. Without disconnecting from the mecha.

That particular stunt felt like splitting his brain in half with a splintery wedge. The water was absolutely necessary, but the pressure inside his skull rang like an air horn zip-tied open.

Right now the only coherent thought he could form was the overwhelming animal desire to find a dark hidden hole and crawl up inside it. Then repeat that motion by disconnecting from his mecha, finding the most secure hiding spot inside that, and passing out for oh just a quick little 24 to 36 hours.

The pilot paused. Down the hall, mechas- giant alien robots- had noticed his disappearance. Even through the language barrier, Jazz would recognize the opening lyrics to his personal theme song anywhere: “Oh fuck where’d he go?”

Hidden behind rows of pipes, Jazz counted his inhalations until the thuds of metal feet passed him by.

Was the alien invader from The Thing scared? If it had finished building its spaceship would the Thing really have tried to take over the world? Or was it just desperate to go home?

Jazz was panting. Or maybe hyperventilating. He made a conscious effort to pull air through his grit teeth at an even flow. Even though he couldn’t actively feel his human body, the dull droning dread pressed through the disconnect to whisper “You’re running out of time.”

He didn’t know how long he had left before his stupid flesh sack would start giving out, but he needed to be somewhere safe when it happened. He’d make it. He’d make it because he had to to make it. He was the best goddamn pilot in the entire program and that was for one reason and one reason alone: Failure Was Not A Motherfucking Option.

If his options were do it the hard way or not at all, then the hard way was what the world got.

Once the guards passed, Jazz slunk along the wall, reaching upside down to fry another security pad, only for the door to open automatically.

Risking it, Jazz peaked into the room and not seeing or hearing anyone, slipped inside.

Once the door slid shut behind him, Jazz lowered himself to the ground one handed, scanning the room more thoroughly.

More screens, inactive. A chair and a couch. Miscellaneous wall kibbling, a table, cabinets. Windows.

Jazz gasped.

Glowing clouds of light, layered like sheets stretching into infinity. Star clusters like paint splatters on black velvet.

White and amber. A haze of something pink.

Unconsciously, Jazz moved towards the window, until he could lightly tap his visor against the glass. His field of view consumed by galaxies.

Back when they first launched him into space, Jazz had come to terms with the let down that all he’d get to see was a black slate and maybe a couple dots. The space station didn’t have many windows to start with, and all his space walks took place when the sun was “out”, so Jazz never really got to see as much of the Milky Way as his inner child hoped.

Now, the child was quiet. Face pressed against the glass, Jazz felt his throat closing up.

At least I got this. Even if I’ve got a half life, I got to see the stars the way they were meant to be.

He hovered. Wanting to find a song to match this moment, but couldn’t find anything more fitting than his own breathing. The rush of blood in his ears was still loud, but a white noise that could substitute for silence.

Like a marble rolling off a table, Jazz felt his stomach drop a moment before his conscious mind could follow.

“It’s wonderful isn’t it?”

Jazz had his arm cocked back to turn the poor fuckers face into a plate but locked himself mid swing at the last second. The mech had lifted a tablet to protect himself, and the move was such a Bullied Nerd cliche it stopped Jazz cold.

Now that his heart rate was breaking highway speed limits again, the angry radio static that was his racing thoughts drowned out any coherent thoughts of what to say.

The mech peeked out from behind the tablet and wow. That’s a guy. That’s just a straight up dude. Prowl and Elita were bulky enough that Jazz could at least imagine where a pilot could sit. But this guy? He looked like the only thing he could throw out was his back. Jazz didn’t even know “elderly twink” was a look possible for a giant robot.

Mystery Codger was staring at him. Jazz still had a fist raised.

Do something say something do something say something you fucked up you fucked up either kill him or start lying just do anything brain please.

“Could you help me find my glasses?”

Jazz faltered. “Wu- What?”

The mech uncurled from his brief defensive huddle. “My glasses? Spectacles? Ah, object-sight-improve-positive?”

The pistons in his arm faintly hissed as the tension released.

Maybe-

As if this was all normal, the mech gently set the tablet on the table, before squatting and squinting at the floor.

Maybe I just have actual brain damage.

Acting on mental autopilot, Jazz took the opening to behave like a normal person. Crouching and scanning the floor for giant alien robot spectacles.

“My name is Rung by the way. I actually don’t think we’ve met previously.” Rung said that last bit with an odd inflection Jazz didn’t have the brain power to think about.

“Jazz. We definitely haven’t met.” He couldn’t quite keep the exhaustion from making that last bit come out snippy.

Rung simply hummed and continued his search. For his part, Jazz was taking the moment to center himself, preparing the best mask he could on short notice.

How long could he keep faking it? Prowl had been with him since he woke up and he didn’t show any signs of needing to sleep. They had doctors. Prowl cared enough about his “health” to take him to one. If Jazz collapsed in front of anyone, they’d drag his sorry ass back to the medbay and it’d be game over. He couldn’t just ask for a place to crash or else he ran the risk of tipping them off he wasn’t one of them if they really didn’t sleep.

A faint tapping sound made him twitch in his stupor.

“Now where could the blasted thing have gone.” Rung was sat crossed legged on the ground.

With Jazz. Who’d vaguely crumbled into a kneeling ball under a table.

Jazz stared at Rung tapping his glasses against his chin. The orange mech made eye contact, and Jazz swore to god he caught him smile.

He reached out a hand, pointing, “Found ‘em.”

The smile came to fruition. Rung aha-ed and held his glasses before himself, inspecting them fondly.

“All that trouble for such a small problem. And all I needed was to ask for help.”

Jazz let himself sag slightly against the wall. Dully thudding the back of his head. “Okay. I’ll cop that was a good trick.”

“It did pull you out of your spiral didn’t it?” Rung said sounding way too smug. He pulled a cloth out from where-ever-the-fuck and cleaned his glasses with it.

He’d been seeing these mechs pull out and disappear objects all day like a bunch of Looney Toons characters. That kind of lapse in logic didn’t bode well for Jazz’s mental condition.

He let his eyes close, rationing his remaining focus.

“How’d you know that’d work?” He mumbled.

“You seemed afraid. You stalled out when you saw I was afraid.” Rung simply stated before he then asked rhetorically, “You’re a protector aren’t you?”

Jazz made a noncommittal sound. Lying was his first impulse, but he really didn’t feel like giving this guy more material to hook him with.

The mech laughed once anyways, “You are. Unorthodox too. I can see why you have such a hold over Prowl.”

That got his attention, “I do?”

“Oh yes.” He heard Rung shift into a more comfortable position on the floor. “Even if he can’t recognize the feeling anymore, I think you give him hope.”

Jazz wanted to laugh and he would if he had the energy.

Instead Jazz sighed. “I’m kinda at rock bottom right now man. And currently? Lil bit fresh outta hope myself.”

And ideas.

Jazz was of the opinion that any problem was solvable if you were willing to get crazy enough, but this was like trying to solve treading water a million miles from shore with only sharks for company. He either drown slowly or get torn apart the moment the sharks realized he was there.

“Hopeless mechs don’t stop to stare at the stars in wonder, Jazz.” When he opened his eyes, Jazz saw Rung staring him down like he was insulted. “To be hopeless is to let yourself die. Do you intend to die today?”

“No.” He challenged back, body minutely tensing.

“Are you willing to do absolutely anything to keep living?” Rung poked him in the chest.

“Yes.” He responded just as quickly, but there was a rasp to his voice. Something small and quiet. Not easily caught. Not easily killed.

“Even ask for help?” Rung quirked his head at him, shit eating grin growing by the second.

Jazz deflated, groaning loud enough for his mecha’s speakers to vibrate his bones.

“Look, I appreciate the therapy session doc, but asking for help is legitimately not an option for me right now.”

Rung leaned forward, resting his chin on a servo, “Alright then. List your current alternative options that you alone can accomplish, devoid of any assistance whatsoever.”

Jazz didn’t respond.

The silence continued to linger.

“Go on.” Rung gestured.

Cornered, Jazz could feel his horns pin back and a burning sensation in his eyes. He rubbed a hand over his visor even though it didn’t actually help.

“Where’s Prowl?”

Rung chuckled, victorious. The scrawny orange mech scooted out from under the table and stood, offering a servo to Jazz to do the same.

The brief rest left Jazz jelly limbed, which was evidently bad enough to translate to a faint tremble in his mecha. Despite that, Jazz didn’t take Rungs hand because there’s no way in hell that guy could support him if he fell. Elita’s threat over harming her crew was still fresh and shiny in his mind.

“You’ll find his office down that way.” Rung pointed out the direction. “Down the hall, turn left at the first junction, pass by two more doors, turn right at that junction and then keep walking until you reach the end of the hall. His office isn’t labeled but I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”

Rung opened the door and then took a seat in the chair next to the couch. “I’d offer to have Prowl come to meet you here, but I have another appointment coming up shortly.”

Oh uh. He actually is a therapist.

Jazz laughed humorlessly, “Why not invite them to join the party? Make it a group session.”

Avoiding eye contact, Rung fiddled with a stylus, “Ah, that would not do I’m afraid. My next patient recently figured out how to “bite” people by quickly jabbing his helm forward and I’d rather that not be your first encounter with him.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Jazz simply nodded numbly.

He paused at the doorway, running the directions through his head again, before turning back slightly. “Hey Rung? Thanks.”

“It’s Rung, and you’re… welcome?” The mech trailed off, looking at Jazz with surprise as the door slid shut behind him.

Walking away, Jazz got about thirty feet before realizing he couldn’t turn his head too quickly or else he’d start seeing double. Feeling the countdown drop into double digits, Jazz hurried along Rungs path.

And nearly crashed into another mech.

It had a head like an old school security camera, a single yellow camera lense cycling down to a pinprick at his appearance. The chassis was crazy long and pointed. Out of habit, Jazz tried mapping out what the interior would look like. The pilot seat would need to be horizontal but it was pretty doable. The limbs were definitely on the skinny side but sharp and fast looking. Bonus points for what was definitely front mounted guns.

All in all, solid design. 7/10.

“Hey.” The mech rasped.

Oh fuck right, Alien.

“Sup.” Jazz replied eloquently.

The camera lense eye loosed, upgrading to a coin sized pupil and clearly looking him over.

“Empurata?” The mech said casually pointing to his legs and visor.

“Uh, sure.” Jazz shrugged.

“Same.” Nodded camera-head.

“Cool.”

The two of them awkwardly stood in the hall. Camera-head seemed content to block traffic and Jazz was mentally banging rocks together in hopes of getting a spark of intelligent thought.

“Can I peel off your visor with a knife?”

The mech held a dagger pinched between its crab claws and Jazz had to bite his tongue not to ask why it didn’t just use those.

Instead, the brain rocks came through.

“Rung lost his glasses.” Jazz threw up a thumb, gesturing over his shoulder. “Needs help. Now.”

Good job brain rocks.

“What? He does?” The mechs head popped up like some kind of fucked up goose, before shoving past Jazz, knocking him into the wall.

“HOLD ON DOC I’M COMING!”

The mech folded inside out into a mother fucking helicopter?! Charging down the hall in a whirlwind so strong Jazz could feel it through his mecha.

Jazz counted to five, and crawled back up into the safety of the ceiling pipes.

He blinks, and he’s staring down another hall. Left turn, two doors, right turn. . . Wait. Was that a right or left he just did? He’s upside down so everything should be reversed right?

He doesn’t remember blinking but the hall is at a different angle. New hall? Or did he just turn his head?

Jazz wants to press the heels of his palms into his eyes until everything holds still but he can’t. So he keeps moving. Keeps hiding.

And then he sees the most beautiful goddamn mech in the universe marching down the hall. Followed by half a dozen substantially less impressive mechs with guns drawn.

Stilling, Jazz remained hidden behind the pipes. Evidently alien robots had the same peripheral blindness to ceilings that human security guards did, as none of them noticed him.

Except for Prowl.

Through the gaps, Jazz watched as Prowl gave rapid fire orders to the armed soldiers behind him. Six mechs. Six guns. Three too many for Jazz to take in his current state. Prowl went silent and his wings twitched. Shivering, Jazz got the deeply uncanny sense he was being intimately observed.

The lights were ringing in a tinnitus B flat. He had the audio feed from his mecha dialed way too high but he couldn’t afford to miss any detail of what would happen next.

Whatever Prowl was said next, it must have been in his native language. Which Jazz found deeply unfair after all the work he’d put into learning Common.

The black and white mech turned to his cohort, waving them down the hall ahead of them. Prowl did not follow, wings still minutely shifting position. Once they were out of sight, Prowl turned on his heel back the way he came. Flicking a single piercing look to Jazz.

Silently. Shakily. Jazz skulked along the shadows after him.

He mental map was fucked. Every time he blinked, Jazz lost track of the most recent few seconds of his life. If Prowl wasn’t stopping every fifty feet to not-so-subtly check that Jazz was still following him, the human didn’t know where he’d end up.

Finally, Prowl reached a door at the end of a hall and entered without any delay. Jazz dropped, moving inside before the door could close again.

“Please don’t freak out.” Jazz cut him off before Prowl could set the tone of this conversation. The mech closed his mouth and after a moment’s consideration, assumed a tense but mostly neutral stance.

“I will not ‘freak out’.” Prowl looked like wanted to say more, but Jazz couldn’t afford that right now.

“Awesome! Because right now I’m freaking out and I won’t be able to keep it together if you start freaking out too.” He was pacing back and forth, not really seeing the mech beside him anymore.

“Jazz.” A servo caught his elbow, stopping him in place. “Where have you been?”

“Oh you know. Here. There. Ceiling mostly. Shockingly unrelated, but I think a talking helicopter wants to wear my face as a hat.” Jazz nodded way too enthusiastically in a manner he hoped translated into an appropriately manic “Please god help me.” grit toothed grin.

Prowl was momentarily speechless before physically shaking off the latest deluge of confusion, “That sounds like Whirl. You would not have encountered them had you stayed in the med bay like you were supposed to. Now I’m asking you again: What are you doing and why are you doing it?”

Audibly cracking, Jazz tried to answer honestly but found his voice locked up. He couldn’t, why couldn’t he..? Why was talking suddenly so fucking hard?

Meanwhile, Prowl just looked defeated. He rubbed that spot between his eyes, not yet letting him go.

“If you cannot provide a reasonable explanation for your sudden shift in behavior, I will have to assume the worst. You leave me no choice but to-“

“I’M REALLY SHORT.” Great. Fantastic. Incredible work brain. Take five.

Prowls optics flickered. Brow furrowing as he looked up at Jazz’s clearly taller mecha.

“That’s not- I mean-.” Jazz clasped his head in his hands, switching back to English. “{I- I- don’t know if this is even real.}”

Something was gripping his arms. Black and white appeared in his vision. “Jazz, please. I can’t help you if I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Common was easy to learn but right now it felt like Jazz was playing Scrabble with a bad hand.

“Prowl, where do you go when you- when you change-body-shape?” He had to stop to breath midway.

Please, please, please this is the last chance for anything to make sense.

But instead the mech slowly shook his head in disbelief, “Where do I..? Nowhere Jazz, it’s still me, I’m not ‘going’ anywhere. My alt form is not a different person.”

The mech gently pulled Jazz’s hands off his head from where he’d been stressing the damage from earlier. “I understand if you’ve never seen an alt mode before but your behavior, your questions, they’re not making any sense.”

Prowl stopped. Optics going wide as placed his servos on Jazz’s wrists. “Jazz are you Crashing?!”

“What? What is that what you call a mental breakdown? Cause yeah I’m having one of those.” He said a little too breathlessly.

“Sit-“ Prowl pulled him down to the floor. “Sit down. I’m calling for a medic.”

“No!” Desperately, Jazz grabbed onto Prowl who was helpless but to join him on the floor. The floodgates opened and Jazz couldn’t stop.

“No no no no, please god no. They’re gonna find out. I need to to tell you. I need to tell you myself. Just, please I’m begging you don’t do it. Give me a chance. Just give me a chance to explain, I don’t want to wake up on a table, please Prowler.”

For his part, Prowl was handling the situation as well as to be expected. He didn’t try to leave again but did get into a more comfortable kneeling position next to the panicking mecha.

“Alright. Alright, I won’t leave. Speak.”

Jazz tried tapping an alternating rhythm on the floor, giving himself literally anything else to focus on. He swallowed back bile and his thrashing fight or flight instincts.

“I’m not-“ Jazz grit his teeth. Telling the truth felt like trying to pop a dislocation back into place. Actually no. Jazz had done that before and it had felt infinitely less unnatural than what he was trying to do now.

Prowl was patient. Bless his heart, motor, whatever he’s got in there. Remaining silent beside him.

The pilot forced himself to take complete breaths, “l. Am not. The same. As you.” One, one two, one two, one two, Jazz counted in time.

“I noticed.” Prowl stated flatly, then softening his expression, “You hadn’t realized you were an alien until now, didn’t you?”

Jazz laughed a little too hysterically, “No, no I Fraggin’ did not. Please don’t freak out.”

“Jazz, you are hardly the first alien species I’ve ever encountered. At least you actually look like a person.”

The pilot got very, very quiet.

“Prowl, what do you think of organics.” Resolutely, Jazz stared down the floor panels, refusing to look anywhere else.

Momentarily, Prowl opened his mouth to speak and shut it again. He shifted to kneel in front of Jazz. Sharp optics darting across his frame. Lightly, Jazz could feel him trace something along his undamaged shoulder. He shivered against his will.

“Jazz.” Prowl got down to where he had to look at him. He spoke so, so softly, “Were you created by organics?”

Well, when a mommy human and a daddy human love each other very much…

“You could say that.” Jazz rasped instead.

He hadn’t even moved, but the energy in the air just went burning cold. Prowl went from soft to deathly serious so fast Jazz visibly flinched.

“Listen to me. You do not have to go back. You do not ever have to go back. I swear on everything I stand for I will not let another one of those things anywhere near you again.” Unintentionally, Prowl was crowding into his space.

Despite himself, Jazz just kept drawing himself in smaller and smaller as Prowl closed in.

“No no no no you don’t get it, that’s not what I meant. That’s not what I am!” He started quiet and steadily grew in volume.

Prowl wasn’t getting it. Instead, raising his voice to match, “No you are wrong! You have a choice now! You aren’t just your function and you aren’t just something they made to die!”

He grabbed Prowl by the shoulders, shaking him, “I DID CHOSE THIS. I KNOW I’M GONNA DIE, BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M FUCKING TALKING ABOUT.”

“Then what ARE you talking about?!” He shouted back.

“I’M ONE OF THEM.” His microphone peaked, and his voice broke.

The quiet hurt. Anything that wasn’t numb hurt. He gulped down air and couldn’t keep more than one eyelid up at a time.

Prowl ground his jaw tightly, practically steaming from reeling back a sense of calm by force, “You are not shorter than me. You are not thinking straight. And You. Are not. An organic.”

Jazz only semi involuntarily rolled his eyes.

“Fuck it.”

He disconnected, and everything hit at once.

Vision went and came back out of focus and way too close. His ears were ringing too badly to hear the sound of his mecha’s chest plates opening, though he knew that they were.

Every fiber of muscle in his body was torn and screaming, he’d throw up later if he had the strength. Jazz did not so much stand as he did lift off the pilot seat and then buckle forward. The hard shell of his pilot suit saved his knee from getting gouged by the corner of the platform he was slipping off of.

That’s fine. He’d land on the steps.

Except, his mecha had been leaning forward hadn’t it?

Like a rag doll, over the edge he went. A huge and blurry and black shape rushing to meet him.

———————————————————————

Is Jazz capable of telling the truth when it’s to save his life? No.

Will he do it out of spite just to prove someone wrong? Yes.

Also, secret props to @somerandomcockroach for showing how fun Rung is to write.

Bonus bit, Prowl finally let his EM field loose far enough for Jazz to notice! It was bad.

-SSTP

<- First Last ->

[starrbishops]

⟡Crush⟡

(John Walker x Reader)

Part 2 now with smut!

Summary: You have feelings for John, and it is extremely frustrating for you. Somehow, you end up helping him fix the kitchen sink- inspired by the song Crush by Ethel Cain.

Word Count: 2.1k (oops)

Notes: (Set after the events of Thunderbolts*, idiots to lovers, kissing, making out, mentions and allusions to sex but this one is PG-13, John is a bad flirt and a little dumb (but we love him), reader is a New Avenger/Thunderbolt)

a/n: If you had told me 5 years ago I would be writing a John Walker fic I would've slapped you in the face. But here we are in a post Thunderbolts* world and I love him. This is my first fic I'm posting here, so I'm sorry for any mistakes or all around poor writing. It ain't much, but it's honest work.

It should have been a crime for someone as big an asshole as John Walker was to also be as hot as he was.

That way he’d actually be in jail and you wouldn’t be standing here trying to talk sense into herself. He should be in jail, actually- for that Flag Smasher, all the people he’d surely taken out working for Val…

But now, here he was, a hero and one of the New Avengers, trying to fix your kitchen sink because Alexei had done something to break it at 2 AM the night before.

“Wrench.” John called from his spot beneath the counter. You passed him the tool, watching the way his large hand wrapped around it and strained as he twisted something in the mess of pipes.

You don’t know why yuou volunteered to do this. It was, first of all, extra work to help fix something that was not yoir fault, and second, an extended period of time spent alone with John, whom you’d been purposely trying to avoid after realizing your feelings for him.

It was so stupid. You’d been on a mission, trying to get information out of a former Hydra scientist who’d fortified his compound like a goddamn castle. You and Walker were on security duty while Bucky and Yelena interrogated the guy, stationed outside the door waiting to fight any more guards that showed up.

“I’m just saying, objectively, it’s a movie set on Christmas. That is what a Christmas movie is.”

“It’s about a guy fighting terrorists, John, how is that in the Christmas spirit?”

“It doesn’t matter, a Christmas movie is-” the argument was interrupted by a bullet whizzing past, causing you both to drop to the ground.

“The fuck?” You looked both ways for where it could have come from. You didn’t see anyone on either end of the hallway they stood in. 

“Fucking snipers.” John muttered as he pulled out his own gun. “Hold this.” he shoved his taco shield in your direction. You didn’t know why he kept the damn thing this way, but he’d grown attached to it.

Luckily, the shield still managed to block the next bullet fired at you, prompting more cursing from the two of you.

“There’s the fucker” Walker raised his gun and fired, the bang followed by a scream as another guard who’d hidden behind the corner dropped to the ground clutching his knee. 

“Nice shot.” you admitted as they walked over to the man, Walker gesturing to his head.

“Want to do the honors?’

“I’d love to.”

With that, you whacked him with the taco shield- not enough to break his skull, but enough to knock him out.

“It’s like they keep on multiplying.” John took a breath and his shield back, his other hand running through his hair. He looked oddly nice when he was disheveled like this. His brow was furrowed and his blonde hair all messy. He had really big hands too. You’d noticed that when he was holding the gun. You wondered what they’d feel like on her instead of his shield-

“Hello?!”

“Huh?”

John looked at you expectantly, snapping you out of your fantasies. “I said we gotta put him in the closet.”

Yes. The closet, where you’d stored all the other guys they’d knocked out. Because you were on a mission. It was time to work, not ogle John Walker.

Holy shit, you were ogling John fucking Walker.

You nodded noncommittally as he took the guy's legs and began moving him, but your mind raced. Walker? Really? Were you that desperate? He was a nice looking guy, that was objectively true. But he was also an asshole. Then again, he’d improved significantly since you’d first met him back in that vault. And you weren’t exactly an angel- you bullied him right back when he made a dumb comment. Oh god, now you were rationalizing it. 

You took a breath as they shut the closet, now with the additional guard in it. This isn’t the end of the world. It’s a dumb crush. It’s purely physical. You can take it and bury it deep down.

“Are you okay?” John waved a hand in front of your face. Fuck. You’d been doing it again.

“Yeah. yeah, totally.”

“You know you can talk to me, right. I’m no therapist, but you can.”

“Since when do you care about peoples’ feelings?”

“Not people. I care about your feelings.” he shrugged as he walked back to your shared  spot by the door. Shit, his ass wasn’t bad either.

God you was doomed.

And now here you were a month later, a total goner, fucking staring at his hands while he worked on the sink. It wasn’t like you’d ever tell him; you’d sooner die than acknowledge her feelings, knowing there was that chance of rejection, knowing that all of your friends would know, how it would hang over the team forever. No, you had to keep her feelings for John to yourself. Still, you dreamed sometimes of him confessing his own feelings, being able to finally voice all the lovelorn thoughts she’d been plagued with for a month.

It was genuinely ridiculous how good he looked doing an everyday task. He had that damn white t-shirt on that showed off his forearms, how strong and muscular they were. You had never really thought a man’s forearms were hot before she saw John in that shirt.

You passed him a screwdriver as your mind continued to wander. You had always known he was a Super Soldier, that he was incredibly strong. He could probably toss you around like she weighed nothing. Just throw you over his shoulder and carry her off to his bedroom…

Jesus Christ, you were horny.

“How’s it going down there?” you peeked under to where you could see John’s face, his brow furrowed in focus. 

“I don’t know how Alexei managed to do this.” He continued to twist the pipe above him. 

“He’s a special one.”

“That’s for sure.” he gave her a smile before returning to the pipe. “Y’know, if the military didn’t work out I was going to be a plumber?”

“Really?”

“Yep. My dad had a plumbing business back in Georgia.”

“Would’ve saved you a lot of trouble if you’d just done that.”

He shrugged. “Eh, I wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t be friends.” “How grateful I am to have you in my life.” you quipped.

“You love me. Who else would fix your sink?”

“I could hire one of those sexy plumbers from pornos.” Christ, why did you say that. Walker had broken your mind to the point that sex was literally the first thing on it. You prayed he didn’t notice how you turned red from the embarrassment.

At least the comment got a laugh out of him. “What, am I not a sexy enough plumber for you?” you shrugged, a nervous laugh exiting you.

“Never said you weren’t a sexy plumber.”

He smiled again, a small one as he slid out from under the sink, reaching up to test it. It flowed easily, as if it had never been broken.

“Damn. You would’ve been a sexy plumber who was also good at his job.”

Walker laughed as he turned off the sink, returning to the floor where she sat. “Wouldn’t even have to seduce all the sad housewives for tips.” he paused as he leaned back against the other side of cabinets. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Like, what would you be if you weren’t an Avenger?”

Oh. You’d never thought about that before. “Probably dead.”

He gave her a look. “C’mon, really?”

“What, that’s why I think? John, fighting bad guys is all I know how to do, I don’t exactly have many other marketable skills.”

“You have plenty of skills, you’re great.”

There it was again. Every time he turned off asshole mode and actually said something nice it was like alarm bells were going off in your head, saying kiss him, kiss him. You prayed for him to follow it up with something dumb and bullheaded.

“I would’ve hired you to be my sexy plumber.”

Not exactly what you were thinking, but close enough.

“That is the strangest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

John sighed, hanging his head. “Yeah, I’m bad at this.”

“Talking?”

He mumbled something under his breath and turned to start putting tools away.

“What?”

“Huh?”

“You said something.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“Let’s just clean up, alright.”

You shook your head. “Touchy, touchy.”

You grabbed the wrench from earlier and dropped it back into the toolbox, watching out of the corner of her eye as John gathered up the other tools he’d left beneath the sink. Your hands brushed as he put them away, lingering a moment too long before he jerked it back.

“What, do I have a disease now?”

“No! No, you just, uh…” John shut his eyes and furrowed his brow in the way he always did when he was thinking. “I’m sorry I called you a sexy plumber.”

“I know it was a compliment, dude, you don’t have to apologize.”

“No, it was supposed to be, and it came out dickish.”

“Everything you say comes out dickish, John. No offense.”

“I know.” he put a hand to his forehead in frustration. “I know, but I’m trying really hard for it not to be. Jesus, I haven’t had to do this in so long-”

“Do what?”

“Flirt!”

Wait a minute.

“That was you flirting?”

“Yeah, it’s not good, I’m rusty, alright?”

“You’ve been flirting with me.”

“Yeah.”

“This whole time.”

His other hand went to his face. “Two months.”

“TWO MONTHS?!”

He nodded from beneath his hands. It was new, seeing John Walker embarrassed. Kind of adorable in a way.

“John.”

He gave a noncommittal grunt.

“You know I’ve been flirting with you too, right.”

“WHAT?!” his hands flew away as he looked up, shocked.

“Why else would I call you a sexy plumber?”

“I thought you were joking!” “Why do you think I’m always staring at you and getting distracted?”

“I thought you just had focus problems! Oh my god-” he ran a hand through his hair. “We’re stupid.”

“Yep.” You nodded, breathing out a chuckle as you scooched yourself over to sit directly next to John. You could feel his body heat radiating out. He did say Super Soldiers ran warm once. It was true.

“So now what?” you looked up at him.

He turned. “I could kiss you?”

“Sounds good.”

He didn’t need any more prompting from there. John smashed his lips to yours, desperate and frustrated, but restrained, like he was making a conscious effort to not scare her off. His hands went to cradle your face as you kissed back, threading a hand through his hair and putting another on his shoulder.

You didn’t know who initiated it, but all of a sudden your tongues were in each other's mouths, eliciting a small groan of pleasure from you. He was as good as she imagined him to be. And you’d imagined it a lot.

One hand traveled down to your waist, wrapping around your back and tugging you over to his lap. God, he was strong. Your hands gripped his arms, feeling the muscles in his biceps, the ones you’d stared at so often. Thank God for Alexei and breaking the damn sink, you thought.

You both gasped for air as they pulled apart, having remained attached to each other as long as humanly possible. You opened her eyes to see his blue ones peering up at her, grinning like an idiot. Not in the cocky, annoying way he usually did. This was a pure happy smile, one that carried the weight of all the pining and longing of the past two months.

“You’re a good kisser.” you rubbed his cheek gently with your thumb, his head leaning into the touch. He reached for it with his free hand and pulled it to his mouth, placing a small kiss on it.

“I’m alright.”

“Give yourself some credit, Walker.” you leaned in to peck his cheek, but his head turned to meet his lips to yours again. You smiled into his lips as he pulled you closer, putting you flush against one another.

That was when you noticed the bulge you felt beneath you. 

“John.” you whispered as she pulled away.

“Mmhm?”

“Is that- are you-”

“Hard? Oh yeah.”

You couldn’t help it.You burst into laughter at his bluntness, which he joined her in. 

“You’re such an idiot.”

“You’re the one on top of me.”

“Fair point.” you grinned at him. “If you’re just alright at kissing, I’m interested to see how good you are at sex.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” And suddenly there was the cocky smile she was used to. “I’m fucking exceptional at sex.”

a/n: again, forgive me for my sins of both liking John and for writing this, if you did enjoy this feel free to like or follow! I hope to post more fic in the future with other Thunderbolt/Marvel characters. TY for reading!

[bloomseishiro]

A STUPID CELEBRITY CRUSH — ITOSHI RIN

౨ৎ — you should be your boyfriend’s biggest fan, right? so why did rin find your twitter logged into a fan account of another former blue lock contestant? 

itoshi rin x reader. fluff, pro soccer player!rin, established relationship, rin is silly and so is reader :p, blue lock manga spoilers (ch 298 events mentioned!) 

word count. 1.3k

Itoshi Rin isn’t exactly someone who is well-versed in fan culture. 

He doesn’t even run his official social media accounts himself. Why would he need to when he has a manager and a team for that? 

Still, he knows the basics. He’s aware there are delusional fans who think they have a chance with him. He knows about fan accounts and fan sites that post about his goals, his everyday outfits, and everything in between. While there are parasocial fans his security team has to keep an eye out for, Rin knows most fans are just there for harmless fun, though he himself doesn’t understand it. 

Rin also knows he���s not the only soccer player with a large fanbase. Isagi’s following is huge, his team has informed him. Kaiser’s as well. Hell, even Bachira and Kunigami are well liked for whatever reason. 

You’re someone who enjoys following the current events of soccer, Rin knows that, but it seems he never understood to what extent you were actually into it. 

That is, until he walks by your computer screen and sees it opened to a blown up photo of Nagi Seishiro. 

Rin blinks as he notices the face on your PC that is not his own. What the hell is that? 

You aren’t at your desk—meaning you are either using the bathroom or grabbing a snack—and so he exits out of the image with a huff. You don’t need to be staring at Nagi when you return. 

When he closes the screen, however, he sees the same photo as your profile picture on Twitter. he stills. There is no way that’s your personal account, or Rin would’ve noticed that atrocity of an icon you had. As he takes a closer look, he sees the display name of “NAGI’S #1 GLAZER” and scratches his head in confusion. 

What the fuck is a glazer and why does it sound explicit? 

Rin wants to respect your privacy, but a bigger part of him has to know what this is. Why is your computer on this account? Why is it logged in? And if this is your secret fan account, why the hell is it of Nagi and not him? 

“Oh! Hey, babe,” he hears you greet from behind his back. 

“What is a glazer?” 

“A w-what?” you stammer nervously, rushing beside him to look at your computer. 

“What’s a glazer?” repeats Rin, tone unamused. 

You close your eyes in defeat, sighing as you plop down on your seat. “You saw my fan account, didn’t you?”

“It’s difficult to miss,” he retorts. “Another man’s face was blown up on your 27-inch screen.”

“I was just changing my profile picture,” you say meekly. “I wasn’t staring at it, or anything.”

Rin frowns, feeling a dull pit in his stomach. So it is your account. That means you have a fanpage of Nagi Seishiro of all people. 

He stays silent, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

A few beats pass before you look up at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows. “Rin, you know the fan account is just for fun, right? As a fan of the soccer player. I don’t know Nagi as a person—only the parts the public is able to see. Like a stupid celebrity crush!”

The frown stays on his face, but the lines are less severe. 

“But you,” you say, “I know the real you. And I love both what you show to the public, and what you show to only me.” 

“Then why isn’t your fan account of me?” he counters, and even Rin hears the bitterness in his own voice. 

You blink. “Because that’s weird. You can’t have a fan account of your boyfriend.”

“You should only have a fan account of your boyfriend,” he mutters dryly. “Why are you a fan of Nagi anyway? He didn’t even make it to the U-20 World Cup back in the day.”

At his words, your spine straightens and a pout forms on your face. “Hey! You can’t just say that. It’s too soon!” 

“It’s been years!” 

You sniffle, folding your arms across your chest. “Not enough years! But that is part of the reason I like him as a player so much.”

“Because he got eliminated and couldn’t keep up with the rest of us?”

“Rin!” you chastise, tears forming in the corners of your eyes much to his surprise. “Nagi got eliminated when we least expected… It seemed so hopeless for a while. I was heartbroken! But then he makes a huge comeback and becomes an even greater soccer player than before! All on his own, too. It shows he can be hardworking and dedicated, and his skill isn’t just from pure useless talent!” 

After your long spiel that Rin thinks sounded just a bit delusional, he sighs. “So you like Nagi as a soccer player more than me?”

“No, of course not!” you protest, standing up from your chair and staring firmly into his eyes. “You are still my favorite soccer player. My favorite person in the world, in fact.”

His gaze softens but he still can’t help but be skeptical. 

You exhale gently as you elaborate, “I’ve had that account since I was young—a high schooler watching you guys change what it means to play soccer. I’ve made lots of friends from there, some I still talk to today! It’s not all about Nagi, though we do hope he’ll become one of the world’s best players. Still, he’ll never compete with you, Rin.” With a warm smile, you pinch his cheek. “You’re always number one to me.” 

“That’s not what your display name says,” he mumbles, but there is no sharpness in his voice. 

Groaning, you insist, “It’s just a stupid meme name. You don’t have to worry, I promise. I don’t even know what a glazer is! I just see people using it a lot on social media lately! I have to try staying trendy with the young ones…”

Rin snorts. That does sound like something you would do. 

“I’ll change it if you want,” you offer hesitantly. “I don’t want this to be something that causes issues with us—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupts. 

Rin is jealous. Rin is possessive. Rin doesn’t want anyone else to be number one in your heart. But he doesn’t want to control you. You told him not to worry and offered him reassurance, and though he still wants to rip Nagi’s throat out with his bare hands, he knows he has to trust you. It’s not something that comes easy to him, but it’s something the two of you built together in your relationship. You bring out a better side of him, one that isn’t always angry and bitter and obsessed with the past. 

“It sounds like a weird hobby,” he says with a huff, “but if you enjoy it, then I won’t stop you.”

You smile at his begrudging support. “It is a silly hobby, but that’s all it is. You are the one I love and the only person I obsess over in real life.” 

“Good.” Rin smirks. “Then you won’t mind when I destroy Nagi’s chances of winning the world cup?” 

Your eyes widen as another pout starts to settle in. “D-destroy?” you repeat mournfully.

He nods.

“I suppose if you are the one doing it,” you say, “then it’s okay. I’ll always root for whatever team you’re on.”

“As you should.” 

“I always will,” you promise, sticking your pinky out. 

Rin shakes his head at the childish gesture, but the smile on his lips betrays him. He interlocks his pinky with yours and makes a promise of his own. 

Rin will be the world’s best striker and beat everyone else, including Isagi and now, Nagi. And he knows you will be by his side when it happens. 

[wyvernest]

cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader

previous(first) part - next part | all chapters list

>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark.

cw: slow burn, fluff, eventual smut, angst, follows book events with slight deviations, im planning to let jacaerys live! every chapter is around 2k wc

chapter cw: tension, fluff, a little angst, they are starting to fall for eachother

“The ceremony will be held tomorrow.” Cregan’s deep and steely voice rings with an imposing echo onto the stone walls of the great hall of Winterfell. “My lady is worn from the journey.”

Although the order seemingly held some benevolence to your sore legs and southern blood barely adjusting to the newfound cold, his voice feels so detached that you find yourself wondering whether he truly did care for your spirits, or if he only wished it as a polite formality.

“I will take my leave before sundown, sister.” Jacaerys places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I must be back at Dragonstone before the new moon.”

“Ill news?” you ask, already troubled and feeling incapacitated from protecting and helping your family.

“Ser Criston Cole marches on Duskendale lands. I must be present at the council to take action.”

“What about me?” You worry, and only after speaking do you realize how stupid the question was.

Jacaerys takes a moment to reply, evidently not wanting to make you feel more secluded than you were.

“I will not make any decision that you wouldn't have in my stead.” He decides, “I will send you ravens to inform you, and represent you.” a pause, “unofficially.”

There is nothing more to be said. Any words he could sweeten end with the same inevitable finale. No raven could fly fast enough to deliver your ideas soon enough for the Greens not to gain an advantage over the reluctance of your team.

You are a pawn. Your dragon is a pawn. And you will only read about the war as if it were history before you could contribute.

“I understand.” You manage to let out without showing how disturbed you are and possibly making the northern lords think that you were terrified to marry their leader.

With a hug too frail to even begin to express how much you will miss him, your brother mounts his dragon after the welcoming festivities in the great hall and takes off with a blow of wings that normally would have had you taking a few steps back from Vermax.

But now it didn't matter anymore. You watch as your only friend dissolves into the skies thick with white clouds, becoming nothing but a raven in the distance.

Suvion cries out, a sharp, strained screech that only pain as great as yours could have caused, and the clouds answer, though you cannot see him anymore.

You are taken aback at the feeling of heavy pelts placed upon your shoulders, and only then you realize how cold you are. Your frigid fingers reach around your own neck to grasp at it and keep it from falling.

“The cold is treacherous. One moment you may think you're warm, and the following, your heart stops.” Cregan comes to stand next to you, looking away to where Vermax had disappeared.

“Thank you, my lord.” You speak coyly, quietly, so he wouldn't catch the crack in your voice and think you weak and soft. Perhaps in a different situation, you would have blushed at his kindness, but the ice wall you felt between you and him was now more palpable than ever. Alone, with a stranger.

“You should come inside.” He insists, but it is not advice, it's a courteous command.

Without a word, you turn and listen. You are escorted to your chamber in the castle, and as you pass through the halls, you look around like a lowborn in a dragonpit. At least that's what it must look like, but in your heart it was storming; how different the place was from what you have known your whole life, the people, the sounds in the yard, the very air of the keep.

He stops in front of your door, beckoning you inside.

“Send for me should you need anything your handmaiden cannot provide.”

His voice is softer, as if trying to indulge you and your loss. As if he understands.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Cregan.”

You do not know for certain if there truly is a gleam of affection in his eyes as he says it, but you do know that you held yourself back from leaning forward in his arms.

Oh, how you wanted to just let it out, and how you wanted him to hold you through it. To offer some comfort that, at least, he cared for you. That he wasn't a cold hearted man with nothing warmer than diplomatic skills. Whom you would have to learn how to love the hard way. Only you know how your heart briefly yearned for him to offer you strength.

But alas, it was not proper. Too soon.

“Cregan.” You accept, and he barely hears it. Your heart sinks when he nods politely and slowly shuts the door, and it sinks further at the sound of his boots on the cold stone outside your chamber, walking away.

A terribly tragic thought slips into your tired mind; that he is betrothed to you, yet his heart belongs to another. Northerners love northerners, and the Stark men have mostly married into vassal houses of the north in the past.

No matter how loyal he is to be from now, his thoughts will always be about her, the people will always know about her.

Suvion's head appears at your window, blocking out the moonlight.

“Oh, you,” You whine, opening the windows and laying your upper body on his snout.

You hear someone gasp and scream in the courtyard, no doubt because of the dragon clawing at the walls of the castle.

“We should find some place good for you. Somewhere safe and warm.” He growls sorrowfully, as if aware.

But it doesn't last long. As quickly as he came at the window, Suvion rips away from your touch and carefully leaps out of the castle yard and up into the night sky. His otherwise white scales now partly reflect the dark of night in their shine, making it impossible for you to even tell how high up he was.

Alone again. You knew he wouldn't go far, that he only needed to hunt and come back, but you wished for leverage that was now gone.

Restless and troubled, you decide to take a stroll around the keep that is to be yours in less than a day.

You follow your curiosity back to the great hall, from where you hear whispered voices and see glimmers of lit torches.

“...of the beast. Food is scarce.”

“It will set eyes upon us.”

“Lord Glover, this is necessary. I do not wish-”

The lords at the table turn abruptly at the sight of the shadow you cast into the obscured hall.

“My lady. Is everything alright?” You hear Cregan's voice, his face away from light.

You feel embarrassed and stupid, interrupting a clearly important talk of resources that did not yet concern you and making the impression of a spoiled, uneducated woman.

“No- I didn't mean to intrude.”

“You could never be intruding on talks of our domain.” He attempts to soothe your nerves, although the implication of responsibilities is indomitable in his tone.

You approach them, carefully eyeing the other lords, feeling quite literally akin to a lizard slithering into a den of wolves. You cannot read anything on their stern faces, and it doesn't fail to make you uneasy and put your guard up.

“The dragon, my lady,” one of them starts, a man well past his youth, “he is a welcomed weapon in the North, although -”

“Although it is true that war has brought us both here, my lord, a dragon is not a weapon.” You warn with a poised expression, as respectfully as you could, yet fire dripped from your words.

The other men frowned in surprise and disapproval, but said nothing. You glance at Cregan, by your side, hoping to be faced with kindness, but instead your heart skips a beat at the sight of a cutthroat look he was throwing at the men, protective of your contribution.

“-apologies. The dragon is a welcomed ally. But livestock is barely enough to get us through what's to come. What are we to offer? Sheep?”

“We have endured harsher winters with lesser than we have today.” Your betrothed reassures, despite the evident growing concern.

“Suvion is big enough to hunt for himself, I dare say. The cold doesn't seem to burden him. There is absolutely no need to thin out the herd for him, my lords.”

You struggle to conceal a sharp gasp when his hand runs up your lower back. A way to show approval of your input, no doubt, yet you find that every crumble of affection he grants you is more than enough to spark fire in your body. Is that what you have come to?

You were worried enough that the rough stoicism of the north man wouldn't provide half the love you dreamed of, yet now you falter on that thought. If such a touch is already setting you alight, what would more do?

“A good omen. Prince Velaryon’s first visit wasn't as uneventful.”

“It is settled then. We will discuss other matters after the wedding.” He commanded, and your stomach flipped at the mention of your union.

With the lords out of the room, Cregan turns to you.

“I thought you would be resting. It's near the hour of the ghosts.” He speaks gently with a warm vibration in his voice, as if you have been wedded for years and he knows all about your practices and nature.

“I couldn't. The more I lay there waiting, the more it felt like I would never find sleep again.”

A faint smile lights up your tense visage, an instinctual way of wanting to see him soften as well.

He looks intently, clearly understanding of your friendliness, but it does nothing to soothe his brow further.

“Come. I wish to speak with you, since neither of us cannot find slumber.”

Neither of us? What is that supposed to mean?

You once again hook your arm around his, his body heat immediately warming you up and putting you at ease. He leads you into his chambers, a strong fire already lit in the hearth.

“Is this proper?”

“Whoever shall dare speak ill of my wife will never speak again.”

A shiver runs up your spine. Whether it's a pleasant or a distressed one, you cannot tell anymore.

“I know how you must feel, although it may not seem like it.” He begins, beckoning you to sit on the edge of the bed. “It's the duty that comes with the name.”

“Yes.” You agree, wanting to hear more of what he wishes to tell you. “Although my biggest concern lies with my position. I feel…” You cease before you could say something like “trapped” or “exiled”. He has been nothing but good to you since you arrived and you do not want to seem ungrateful or hostile. You do like him.

But before you could find the right words, he kneels in front of you on the floor and takes your hands in his. Your heart stops. Your brain shuts down. Gods.

“-powerless.” He untangles your mind and finishes your thought. “But you aren't. We will offer help, I do not intend to trample the oath I swore to your brother. The oath I am to swear to you.” He adds, his tone is soft and tender yet his words so meaningful and heavy, you hear them as though their echo reverberated in the entire room around you.

His thumb delicately rubs over your knuckles, his expression as stoic as ever, only his actions speak differently. He leans forward and places a kiss on the back of your hand, assuring and loving.

You draw in a sharp breath, as if you haven't felt affection before in your life.

“Cregan.” is all you manage.

“It is true that this union was made with interest. But you are not unwanted, my lady. I believe we will find more than allies in each other.”

TAGS!! im sorry for those that don't work its tumblr's fault i checked all of them multiple times

@cost234 @dracaryxzs @cherrymallowtm @ithilwen-blackwood @lady-targaryens-world @lightdragonrayne @krokietino @sukunassfinger @rey26 @beebeechaos @melsunshine @aemondwhoresworld @romeavecryst @raynetargaryan2 @fireandblood-mharmie @mitski9328373 @drwho-ess @dorkysupernova @nitimurinvetitumsposts @ghitakhnifissa @darylspersonalwhore @helo1281917 @delaynew @poochies04 @accidentpronedork @fiction-fanfic-reader @rha3nyra @wallacewillow0773638 @star-serpent @potionsclub @drwho-ess @moadvx @jellybeanstacey0519 @italianchameleon @ephemeralninon @sithapprentice @cloveradora @hawkins-2000 @thatspiderwebinthecorner

@wolvestitches @idohknow @nyxbranwenn @asteria33 @nina6708 @r-3dlips @oxymakestheworldgoround @daisyhams @notmycanoe @percyjacksonspeen

@squidscottjeans @itchkhiara @klutzylaena @heylittlelollita @scrumptiousloser @karmaswitch

[bachshot]

Danger Zone

request: so happy to hear ava was your fav thunderbolt she was mine too!! Would you be willing to write a oneshot about fem reader who also heard about Valentina’s plan and came to save Ava, meeting John and Yelena a little before Alexei.

Ava Starr x Fem!Reader no warnings apply

thunderbolts spoilers ahead... kinda want to do a part two later on in the movie with some more fluffy y/n and ava moments + interaction with the other thunderbolts, lmk what you think!!

Y/N never trusted Valentina, what was happening right now was only more timber for the fire in the list of reasons why she really needed to quit her job. For the past few months she had been working as her personal security guard, something Ava wasn't exactly overjoyed to learn but the pay was cushy and so far Valentina didn't seem to suspect their relationship. Or if she did she hadn't said anything, whether that was better or worse they were unsure.

That being said the jobs Y/N was given were nowhere near the level of Ava's, instead being stuck accompanying Valentina to events and looking overall intimidating, so when it came time for Valentina to clean her hands of evidence it was unsurprising that Y/N didn't make the list.

But as she raced up this stupid hill to the facility atop of it she had one thought on her mind, 'i really need to quit this job', if Valentina’s awful attitude wasn't enough then trying to kill her girlfriend certainly was. Mel had spilled the secret plan to Y/N, a guilt filled moment of clarity where the words came out hard and fast unaware of Y/N's connection to Ava, but the subsequent words fell on deaf ears as the blood rushed to Y/N's head as all she could think about was Ava. It had been easy to convince Mel to help her, she always seemed to be teetering on the fence of supporting Valentina so all she seemed to need was a push, the girl managing to give Y/N top level access to scan into the building Ava was sent to but other than that it was all in Y/N's hands, any more meddling from Mel would quickly be spotted and stopped by Valentina. As much as she thought of Valentina and her assistant as one in the same, here Y/N had to reconsider her biases... But maybe not right at this second. The facility quickly comes into view as Y/N reaches the top of the hill, opening the door with the building's biometric system and groaning quietly to herself as it opens only to reveal more doors. She couldn’t help but feel she didn’t have time for this, knowing the incinerator Ava had been led into would activate any moment.

Luckily the feeling was short lived as Ava phased through one of the doors with a panicked look on her face, jaw dropping once she spotted Y/N their speech overlapping in a frantic exclamation of “you’re here!” and “what are you doing here?!”

Y/N shakes her head grabbing Ava’s arms, giving her a slight shake, “Valentina set you up! I came here to get you,” she explains, eyes scanning over Ava to check her over for any injuries, easily distracted and unable to hold back rambling a little despite the urgency of the current situation, “God, you look so good in that new suit by the way, but we need to get out of here, i dont know when the others are getting here but—“

Ava cuts her off with a chuckle, endeared by Y/N’s ability to give out a compliment alongside attempting to save her life (even if she’s definitely seen Ava’s new suit before and has told her that every time she’s seen her in it),

“they’re already here,” Ava informs her, glancing back to the door she just phased through, “and we just figured out Valentina’s plan…” she adds with some reluctance not wanting to diminish Y/N’s efforts. It’s then that Ava’s face drops from the tender smile she always had plastered on in Y/N’s presence, replaced by an expression of realisation as she cursed under her breath suddenly breaking from Y/N’s hold to turn to the lock pad next to the door. Y/N raises a brow as Ava presses the buttons, letting out a frustrated growl as she’s met with a harsh ‘access denied’, given Ava’s history Y/N felt kind of proud that she had managed to work with the others she was set up against. Ava wasn’t quick to trust with her past, and while Y/N understood the trust was probably fleeting and completely situational, something about seeing her working with others made her chest swell regardless. She made a note to tell her as such later.

“Let me try,” Y/N offers, arm brushing against Ava’s as she moves to stand next to her, assuming Ava’s access was removed the moment she had entered to stop her from being able to escape, but Y/N’s should still be in full effect thanks to Mel. The door opens, revealing the others inside who look almost surprised to see they had actually been freed, and Ava’s arm nudges Y/N’s in a silent form of appreciation however the moment is fleeting as flames begin to descend in the opened up room causing an explosion that continued on into the room they currently stood in.

By all means Ava could temporarily phase to avoid the blow but instead Y/N feels Ava’s hands on her chest as she pushes her to the ground bodies pressed together to stay low as the explosion blew over them, Ava's body blocking most of the blow from Y/N in a protective hold. It didn’t take long for it to end, Ava pushing herself up still straddling Y/N and looking down at her with a concerned look as she made sure she was okay… Y/N couldn’t help but think she wouldn’t mind this position in another setting, and maybe she subconsciously leaned forward at first seeing Ava’s face hovering above hers but could you really blame her? Aware however that it was not the time for that she didn’t allow her mind to wander further, stopping herself before she and Ava actually kissed but not before Ava had noticed.

“…Hey,” Y/N breathes out, a ringing in her ears and a dull aching in her head as she definitely hit it on the floor going down (and may or may not be a little concussed), causing Ava to shake her head in amusement as she pulls herself up from the ground and offers Y/N a hand.

“Hey yourself,” she replies smoothly, a teasing tone on her tongue egged on by Y/N’s antics, it looks like she’s about to say something else as her mouth opens again only to be interrupted by a gruffer voice to the right of the two. Y/N doesn’t really catch what’s being said, the ringing from the loud explosion still persisting in her ears but she can tell it’s something along the lines of ‘who the fuck are you’ causing both her and Ava to quickly whip their heads round looking towards a man in some kind of captain america-esque costume, Ava's stance hardening as she side stepped in front of Y/N to block her from the mans view. It was then Y/N remembered her and Ava weren’t alone, noticing a shorter blonde woman and another man with darker hair on the other side of the room slowly getting up, clearly just recovering from being blown away when the explosion had gone off. With such an interesting combination of people she would definitely be asking Ava for more details later, and knew absolutely no insults towards the other mercenaries would be spared, but for now as she felt Ava's hand protectively reach for hers and give it a thankful squeeze she was glad she had come here— even if it seemed Ava had already been capable of saving herself.

[helenanell]

You’re Good || Dr. Abbott

Dr Jack Abbott x DoctorReader

(In my head, this is an OC, but it’s written first person, with no name or physical description)

Summary: It’s been years since I walked into The Pitt as an Intern and yet amongst the devastation of the shooting, my confidence in myself wavers. Then, Dr Abbott appears by my side.

Notes: Minor Spoilers - Takes place in the aftermath of the shooting. Blood, trauma.

I also have to credit and thank @madsmilfelsen whose posting about Abbott x Mohan got me on that ship and consequently had me thinking about this dynamic.

Part Two

Having just successfully inserted the chest tube into my patient, I step back. It’s only once I’m still that I realise my breathing is shallow. I shut my eyes and work to rectify it. You can’t go to pieces. I tell myself. It’s selfish and you don’t have the luxury. Get a grip.

Besides Covid, I have never worked such a major trauma event, and I know I’m faltering. Faced with such devastation–too much to process let alone confront and help heal–I feel utterly useless. Even as Princess informs me my patient is stabilising, I can’t shake the feeling I’m faltering. Failing.

When I lift my hand to push the protective glasses back up my nose, I pull up short at the sight of my gloves. The blue latex is utterly subsumed by blood. Or maybe it isn’t, and the red is all that I can see.

I let out a ragged breath and take another step back from the patient, as if my internal panic will somehow hurt him, undoing all of our work to save his life.

“Doc?” Princess calls out, but it bounces off me. The concern falls at my feet instead.

I look around, searching for Dana, Langdon, or Robby, anyone that usually makes me feel a little less helpless when the trauma of the day lashes at me a little too hard. But they’re barely keeping their heads above water, awash with blood and doing their best not to swallow down the cries of pain and choke—

There’s a flash of orange in my peripheral vision. The luminous vest that identifies a Primary Emergency MD. For a second, I think I must have made a mistake and Dana isn’t across the department and is instead by my side. But it isn’t her.

“Turn.” Dr Abbot gently, but firmly, knocks his hand into my arm, forcing me to angle myself to face him.

His vest is smeared with blood, but he must have changed his gloves recently because he’s able to reach out and push my glasses back up the bridge of my nose without me catching a glimpse of red.

There’s something grounding about the gesture, and I make myself believe it’s because it’s jarring to receive any kind of aid from a man who seems constantly perturbed. If not by me specifically, then just from having to engage with anyone for an extended period of time.

“Thanks.” There’s a tremor in my voice, but at least it’s not a mortifying shake.

Dr Abbott’s an ass, but having his respect would feel almost like a career milestone. I’m definitely not there yet.

Dr Abbott just nods, casting his eye over the patient I just put the tube in. I wait for disapproval but none comes.

“You just saved that man’s life, Doctor.”

Seeing as I expected him to move away without another word, as is normal for our interactions, all I manage is to blink at him in slight shock.

“I’d hope so.” I say. “It’s sort of a requirement of the job.”

He gives me a suffering look. I’m sure he is going to leave now, both of us standing around for even the minute this conversation has taken feels like a luxury. A luxury we have no right to when we’re standing in a storm.

“Okay.” I nod myself, preparing to move away, but Dr Abbott stops me.

“Wait.”

I look back over to him. He’s focused on my ankle where, just like him, I have a blood bag secured, an IV in my arm feeding into it.

I frown down at it. Surely he can’t have an issue with me doing exactly what he is? It’s not like I’ve copied his homework.

“What’s wrong?—“

I barley have the question out when he’s dropping down into a crouch, his assured hands finding the bandage that’s keeping the blood bag against my ankle. He repositions it and then begins to secure it back into place.

“Sloppy work.” He grumbles, brow drawn tight.

I look up at the ceiling for strength. There’s the jab.

“I’m so glad you’re here to uplift me during this horrifically stressful time, Dr Abbot.”

He lets out an irritated huff and I narrow my eyes down at him when I feel the bandage tighten unnecessarily.

“Sloppy is never good enough, no matter the time.” He says.

“Well, next time I have to cut into someone whilst bleeding myself dry, I’ll emulate your grace.” I say, a smirk grows when he glowers up at me. “You don’t think you’re graceful, Dr Abbott?”

“Sure I do.” He deadpans. “Call me twinkle toes.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, I absolutely will. We’ve just found your new nickname.”

Dr Abbott taps my ankle when he finishes and then straightens up. “See, I am capable of uplifting you.”

I gape at him and find maybe the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips. Maybe.

Is he really trying to stop me from spiralling or is this just him taking an opportunity to goad me? I hate that I can’t tell. He has a frustrating capacity to fry the circuitry of comprehension. I don’t understand anything he does.

He considers my expression and then says, “I’m not fucking with you, Doctor.”

To ignore the warmth that ignites within me, I look down at my ankle.

“So,” I begin carefully, “how does it feel to be a trendsetter? Soon everyone will have blood bags for anklets.”

“Wonderful.” He says flatly, his good humour vanished. Well, that didn’t last long. “Okay, you’re good.”

I look around the Emergency Department, struggling to catch a glimpse of anything close to hope. Hope that things are calming down so we can start giving proper care, not just desperately trying to keep people’s hearts beating.

“Am I?” I ask shakily. “It feels like the bare minimum.”

“You’re saving lives.” Dr Abbott answers sincerely. “That’s not the bare minimum, that’s everything.”

I meet his eyes and attempt a smile. “Yeah, it is.”

He sees I’m struggling to convince myself but he doesn’t push it. “You’re doing great work.”

“I’m just trying to match the example that others have set for me.”

Something flickers in his gaze and I think maybe he’s remembering that first day, years ago now, when I first walked into The Pitt and he’d been my attending. I had been so intimidated by him, yet so in awe. Desperate to impress.

Six years later, not much has changed. No matter how self-assured I am, there’s something about him that makes me feel like that intern all over again.

Dr Abbott takes a step closer and leans in, his voice low, breath ghosting the side of my face. “You are the example, Doctor. Look around and you’ll see the med students trying to follow you.”

“I-“

I don’t get a chance to answer, not that I really know what the hell I’d say to that, because he’s already turning away.

“Keep up the good work.”

Then he’s gone, swept up in the emergency tidal wave. I linger for only a second before forcing myself back into action.

There are lives to save. Always.

Part Two - I'll Be Seeing You

[blitziwitchwrites]

pairing: rabbid!ryomen sukuna x reader

content tags/warnings: feral violent man, virus/disease, light gore, body mutation, death/murder, criminal activity, your father’s a (....dead) judgemental dick, power dynamic, sukuna’s an actual uncontrollable monster that only you can subside, fluff/softness

author’s note: i was running through the lnds event and the boys as praedators has me thinking about the jjk men in a situation like lmfao, lmfaoo… lemme know if i should make this a series and include the other jjk men, cuzzzz i will. i like this concept hehe

—————

imagining rabbid!ryomen sukuna who only allows you, the cute little newbie guard he has a history with, into his cell…

rabbid!ryomen sukuna who was the most feared criminal in the world, running a mafia criminal organization known as the curses that rivaled even the six eyes in power and influence. however, after getting infected with the rabid virus that is spreading throughout your city, his bloodlust only grew tenfold and left him an extremely dangerous beast who foams at the mouth with a need to kill and destroy.

rabbid!ryomen sukuna who suffered a severe body change from the virus, growing an extra pair of arms and becoming beastly-sized, larger and taller and more muscular, two extra eyes and an extra mouth growing on his body, burn tissue developing on his face from the severity of the virus infecting his flesh.

rabbid!ryomen sukuna who was only able to be imprisoned using over a hundred soldiers, a tank, and chains after going on a rampage throughout the city. rabbid!ryomen sukuna who would’ve thrown the tank with his bare hands if he did not see you, the one that got away, in your guard uniform, running up and jumping between him and the tank in an attempt to ease the raging beast.

rabbid!ryomen sukuna who felt human for the first time since becoming infected with the virus when he saw you, instantly easing you. the tank preparing to aim and fire when they saw him reach for you, only for him to tuck your hair behind your ear and cup his face and fall to his knees, still taller than you despite significantly decreasing his height as he pressed his forehead against yours and eased.

rabbid!ryomen sukuna who got thrown into chains and you pried away from him when he finally submitted, and now lives in an isolated cell with no windows and a secure, solid steel door, surrounded by thick chains that he could easily break if he wanted to. he could break down the door and run if he wanted to. but he doesn’t. because of you.

rabbid!ryomen sukuna who will only talk to you. anyone else who enters his cell will get tossed, and the virus takes over, the man within the beast only able to subside for you, who gets sent to his cell whenever information is needed from him. rabbid!ryomen sukuna who will tell you everything you ever want to know, not to cooperate with his government captors, but purely because it’s you.

rabbid!ryomen sukuna who will pace around his cell, frothing at the mouth, shaking, banging on the walls and itching to kill and licking his lips and tears apart any food he is provided within seconds, ready to rip apart the guard feeding him if their fingers manage to slip in the metal slot of the door as his trays are handing to him. however, the moment the door opens and you enter his cell, he is on his knees for you or wrapping his arms around you and clinging to you, his only sense of humanity being brought forth by you, you, you.

rabbid!ryomen sukuna who gets to see you once a day, as long as he answers the questions you are instructed to ask him and so long as he does not hurt you- which he would never. rabbid!ryomen sukuna who just wants to pull you into his lap and hold you and rest his chin upon your head as you melt into his body and mesh into him.

rabbid!ryomen sukuna who loved you long before he was a true criminal lord, back when you both were teenagers, but your father had found out that you were in love with the troublemaking thug and had you shipped off to military school and insisted he would do everything within his power to ensure you two would never see him again. rabbid!ryomen sukuna who had his head on a stick when he finally found him and had more power, only for you to be stationed overseas for guard training, and has never looked at a woman or touched one since you and had been searching for you ever since.

rabbid!ryomen sukuna who will kill everybody, but you. rabbid!ryomen sukuna who will hate everybody, but you. rabbid!ryomen sukuna who would do anything for you, absolutely anything, because you are the only one who turns rabbid!ryomen sukuna into just… sukuna.

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masterlist! not proofread. please do not copy, steal, repost, and/or translate. copyright protected by blitziwitchwrites.