#the cable is malfunctioning

[balkanradfem]

Eyy we did it!

This was the first batch of tomatoes, and they were very beautiful, so I traded them. I brought them to a nice woman as a gift, and in return she gifted me some clothing, and some new bedsheets, with little whales on them! I am loving the no-money trade and my new bedsheets, imagine if you could just grow food and trade it for anything else you need.

[strangegutz]

I hope is not too much of a spoiler to ask, but I was wondering if there was a particular moment where Eddie realized he has deeper/romantic feelings for Zeki and how did he deal with that realization?

It is spoilers, but who knows how long it'll be before I even start the comic, let alone get to that point, lol

Eddie has a malfunction on a job, and Zeki is the one that keeps a level head, knows Eddie's shutdown codes, and keeps him safe. The feeling of pride in how Zeki handled the situation, and the come-to-jesus moment of a major shutdown at his age makes him rethink his aversion to deeper romance, and how he shouldn't fight it anymore.

Zeki had romantic feelings for Eddie for a while, but was satisfied with the casual thing they had going on, just assuming Eddie wouldn't ever be tied down

[boy-with-the-pink-hair]

Yeah, I made a comic. Why? Cuz, I love to suffer. OTL

Based on my fic.*shameless self-promo* Relevant snippet below the cut.

...

Stepping deeper now into the cavernous inner chamber, he kept a hand on the wall as he peered into the gloom, wondering what could've caused the machine to malfunction. He took another step forward, nearing the far end of the chamber, his hand sliding along the wall until it passed over a slight depression and then a protrusion. His foot suddenly bumped against a thick cable on the floor and he shifted his weight in surprise. That's when he felt the protrusion beneath his hand sink into the wall with a click!

He stumbled back and saw a control panel where his hand had been, the buttons labeled on and off. He soon realized what he'd done as the chamber let out a heavy CLUNK and began to whir and hum, the glowing lines of circuitry growing brighter as the sound crescendo'd to a deafening peak. Danny heard his friends call out to him in surprise, but he found himself frozen in place as he turned to see a bright green light bloom at the end of the chamber into a brilliantly blinding flash!

Suddenly, a massive surge of energy ripped into his body! It took his breath away--pulled from his lungs in a painful scream as his muscles contracted violently, body spasming and convulsing as every nerve burned and sizzled! His heart pounded erratically in his chest, harder and faster than he'd ever felt in his life, as though it might explode! He clutched at his chest with another painful spasm, doubling over in pain as he tried to take a breath. It was an agony like nothing he'd ever felt before. It felt like dying. Like his body was being ripped apart, molecule by molecule.

Then as quickly as it began, it was over. His eyes rolled back as he collapsed to the floor, a blackness overtaking everything.

...

While the two friends busied themselves with their own activities, they didn't notice the atmosphere of the lab change... until it was too late. The CLUNK of the machine quickly drew their attention and both Sam and Tucker dropped what they were doing to watch in horror as it whirred to life.

"Danny?" Sam called out to her friend, "Danny, what's happening?!" The whir of the machine grew louder and louder, and Sam's heart sank in dread.

Tucker rushed back to the portal entrance to see what was happening, and joined in Sam's concern. "Danny, get out of there! Something's wrong!" he shouted over the noise, but it was too late. A bright flash of light burst from the machine, forcing the pair to shield their eyes as the deafening hum was replaced by Danny's agonized screaming.

"DANNY!!" Sam dropped her camera and lurched toward the portal entrance, but Tucker caught her waist and pulled her back.

"Sam, don't! It's too dangerous! You could get hurt!"

"But Danny's IN THERE!! We have to SAVE him!!" she argued, pulling against his grip, but Tucker held tight.

"I’m sorry, Sam... there's nothing we can do."

Yet, Sam refused to just stand by and do nothing. She broke free of Tucker's arms and rushed forward... but it was already over.

Danny's body crumpled to the floor with a thud and laid motionless beyond the threshold of the machine as a swirling green vortex formed inside. The two friends stared in quiet horror, before Sam stumbled forward into the machine to pull Danny's limp body back from that sinister green portal as it grew to fill the entire chamber.

She felt her heart clench as she dragged him back into the lab and rolled him onto his back. His once jet black hair was now a shock of white, and he felt cold beneath her fingers. A faint stench of burning wafted from his body, his suit a charred black and the rubber ashen. She knelt beside him, a hand on his chest, the other gently brushing the hair from his face.

"Tucker..." She looked back at the other boy in restrained panic, her voice wavering as she spoke. "He-- He's not breathing."

---

Read the rest here.

[ozzgin]

Monstertober Day 14: Eyes Everywhere ft. Internet Monster

content: gender neutral reader, digital monster, NSFW

You remember your mother's warnings about God always keeping an eye on you. At the time, you found it to be a ridiculous threat, a bizarre display of control and power. Now, however, omnipresence is the only way you could possibly describe your situation, and there isn't anything holy to it.

You were quick to learn that your digital partner is dreadfully possessive and jealous. Certain contacts from your phone often disappear without a trace. Your favorite websites are frequently unavailable. You've had people refer to messages you've never sent, such as refusals to hang out. "I thought you're sick?" some classmate might ask. "It's too bad you couldn't attend last week", they'll remark, giving you a pitiful smile. You've no idea what they're talking about.

The creature's reach has surpassed your expectations. It seems that it has found a way around your house, too, spreading its authority across every room and every belonging. Lights flickering when it wants your attention, music spontaneously playing when it desires a particular mood for the evening. Although the worst of it lies in other shameful moments; such as your lewd toys malfunctioning in the midst of your private time, abruptly stopping right before your peak, or increasing their intensity just as you're about to settle down.

"Stop messing with me", you groan, kicking the blanket off in a sign of protest.

Your phone lights up and the screen is flooded with rapidly expanding waves of 0s and 1s, until a proper message is formed: Consider it your punishment.

"Excuse me?"

Instantly, you're provided with a recording of yourself grinning before your computer screen. You squint your eyes. It's a smut story you'd found recently, during a rare moment of online freedom.

Is that what you like, (Y/N)?

You sit up, startled by the monotonous AI voice coming from your speaker.

"The tentacle monster slithered around you, forcefully spreading your legs", the voice narrates. You realize it's quoting the erotic work you read online. Why, that's something I could've easily provided for you. I am disappointed.

A sudden pressure tugs at your leg: thick braids of cables - its tendrils - tighten themselves against your skin, making their way up.

Spread. Then we'll go over the next paragraph, it demands.

Absurd to think you could hide such perversions from it. No matter, perhaps this time you'll learn your lesson. Regardless of how long it takes.

[Navigation] | [Ozztober Masterlist]| [Internet Monster]

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober (2024) Day 15 - Prostitution

Kink: Prostitution

Pairing: GN!Reader x M!Robot

Other Kinks: Cowgirl Position

Word Count: 1629 Words

Kinktober Masterlist

“You’re so…warm.”

The words spill out of your mouth before you can think better of it, eyes wide at the heated metal beneath your splayed palm. Booker’s sleek, black exterior had you thinking he would be chill to the touch, something different from your own fleshy body. But he’s not, the gentle whirr of his processors just beneath his plating generating a pleasant heat. It’s not unlike a laptop that’s running too many programs, though you’re not sure if that’s an appropriate thing to say out loud.

“So are you.” Booker’s modulated voice quips, the deep tone sending a shiver down your spine. He sounds like the sultry narrator of a smut novel, or the bad boy option in a love triangle otome game. I’s built to make you putty in his hands.

No wonder his hourly rate is so high.

A sharp metal finger tils up your jaw, moving your eyes from his jutting plated abdomen to his face, the blank metal screen somehow staring deep into your soul. Red lines pulse in between the juncture where his jaw meets his neck, cabling glowing like neon in the dark bedroom.

“You’re my first human client, you know that?” He chuckles, fingers moving up to pinch your cheeks, watching the way they squish. “Many of your kind seem too intimidated to consider even looking me in the faceplate, let alone join me in bed.”

You feel your face grow hot, thoughts running back to the first impression you had when saw his page on the scandalous website you cracked open late at night. 

“You’re my first droid.” You mutter, lips still squished together. “So I guess we’re both in for something new”

Booker chuckles, and you bet if he could smirk, he would.

“Cheeky little thing.” Booker pulls you closer, still grabbing you by the jaw. Straddled the way you are on his lap, your hand has to splay on his chest to keep your balance. He leans his face-plate past your face and directly into your ear. “I like that.”

It’s hard not to melt right then there, become a puddle of flesh against his large lap. Especially when he presses another large hand against your lower back, pushing it to arch in his grip. The warm metal is now pressed directly to your bare chest, so hot yet not burning.

Something buzzes underneath your crotch, making you yelp. Booker’s chuckle rumbles in your ear, the hand on your lower back now rubbing circles.

“That’d be my modesty plating, love.” His hand moves down to grip one of your ass cheeks, pushing your lower half down right against the buzzing at the center of his crotch. It’s just as hot as the rest of him, and sends a bolt of lightning straight up your spine. “Looking so cute on top of me, the thing might just malfunction.”

You gulp. Gods, you may be too pent up for all this.

“So that hides your…your-”

“My cock, yes.” Booker brushes the back of his segmented knuckles down the side of your face, stopping to trace the shape of your lips. 

“O-oh.” 

Booker’s thumb prods at your bottom lip and it’s almost embarrassing how eagerly you open your mouth for him, let him run the pad of his thumb against your tongue. 

“So wet.” Booker purrs, the whirring of machinery growing louder as he pushes his thumb all the way down to the knuckle, sees drool spilling over the sides of your mouth.

“Can I shee it?” You sputter around his thumb, mind still preoccupied with the buzzing core beneath you.

Booker spanks you on the ass, sending you forward and gagging on his thumb. But he laughs again, and shimmies himself upward. His modesty plate now sits just before your seated crotch.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Steam bursts from the siding as the buzzing plate pulls back into his black armor, a slippery wet red phallus sliding into place. 

Holy SHIT.

The cock’s head lays on your stomach, some sort of fluid pulsing underneath the silicone skin and making it twitch. Fresh globs of a neon crimson fluid bubble at the top, coating it with a sticky texture. 

“Just as you imagined it?”

“Even better.” You pant, heart pounding in your ear drums as you eye up Booker’s dick. “C-can I touch it?”

Booker nods, thumb still pressing down on your lower palette as you hyper focus on the task at hand.

It’s warmer than the rest of him, much closer to the familiar body heat of humans that you’re used to. The silicon squishes as you grab at the base, still firm even as you squeeze up the shaft. Booker winces, vents opening up on the side of his neck to push out some overheated steam. 

“Is it sensitive?” You sputter, Booker's thumb now pulled out to the very end, letting you speak normally.

“Very.” A string of saliva follows Booker’s thumb as he pulls it out of your mouth completely, connecting the two of you still together. 

A glitchy moan comes when you reach the tapered head, liquid foaming around your fingers as you squeeze the tip. Seems he’s extra sensitive right there, something in common with human men.

You feel your mouth go dry, a desperate want spurring your heart into overdrive. “It’ll feel better inside you, darling.” The hand on your ass shoves you forward, pressing the cock right against your crotch, sending another bolt up your stomach. “I'm craving it, bad.”

So am I.

A bubbling well of pure giddy fills up your chest, has you quickly sitting up and aligning your eager hole with the tip. Booker’s hands move to grip onto your hips, using your love handles as they were intended.

You sink sensuously and slow down, eyes going cross as Booker’s cock stretches you open. The tapered shape helps alleviate any burn from not being prepared beforehand, inching you wide and wider until you finally sit at the base. The shape edges of Booker’s hip plating against your inner thigh sends tiny firecrackers across your skin.

“Damn, you’re even hotter on the inside, baby.”

You nod dumbly, too focused on the feeling of a warm cock deep inside you. Booker takes the opportunity to throw up his hips and legs, stealing the breath right out of your lung and sending you forward and into his chest. The thick wiring of his neck presses right into your nose, mind still wobbling from the quick shift.

“Let Daddy Booker take care of you, sweet cheeks.”

Something like an engine revs in Booker's stomach, the only warning you get of Booker's first thrust. Stars shoot out behind your eyelids, and know immediately that you are getting your money's worth.

Booker bounces on his cock like you weigh nothing, snapping his hips with such power and precision that all senses feel knocked out of your head. 

“You like that baby?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh!” You mutter dumbly, already fucked stupid by his dick. His cock pulses form inside you, streams of that neon lube-like substance dripping down the sides making a squelching sound with each slap against your ass cheeks. Strings of it stick between your thighs and his, catching the light from his cabling and almost sparkling on his black exterior. 

“Taking it so good, baby. Finally getting what you needed.” Booker growls in your ear, thos vents blowing hot air directly onto your face. “Fucked like the animal you are.”

Booker’s hands grip deep into your flesh, making indents on the skin as starts thrusting his hips up with every jolt of your body. It doubles the sensation inside you, and has pelvis tingling. 

“Fuck!”

The bed underneath you rumbles and shakes, Booker’s large metal body putting immense strain on the cheap frame. Everything about him is big, big enough that you originally thought he was a war droid, ideal for busting down walls and snapping necks.

He’s busting something down, that's for sure.

Booker never once slows his pace, the only hint of exhaustion coming from the occasional exhale from his vents and subtle uptick in whirring from his systems. But even then they are  subtle changes, his dick jutting in and out for what feels like hours. Long enough that your whole body almost feels numb, the kind of emptiness when all sensation is too much, when your brain short circuits and is about to burst.

“Can feel you squeezing me, darling. You gonna cum?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” 

“Then cum for me baby, show me how good daddy makes you feel.”

Your entire body quakes as your orgasm hits like a stack of bricks, back arched at an impossible angle as you scream into the night, no care for potential neighbors or bystanders on the busy street below. You almost miss the hot burst of something inside you, a stream of liquid filling up your insides, coming straight from the tapered tip pressed against the very edge of yourself.

Your breath fogs on Booker’s chest palting as you lay there, panting. He may be warm but your body is on fire, overwhelmed by his heat and sweat practically steaming off of you.

You don’t remember falling asleep, or being tucked into bed. You wake up the next morning with a cup of water by your bed, sticking to your sheets from dried sweat overnight.

You guzzle down the water, memories slowly piercing back together, wondering when Booker left.

There’s a note left by the water bottle, written in perfect penmanship and a business card left to the side.

For my new favorite client.

There’s a private comms number written down on the card, the kind droids used to communicate to one another or occasionally with non-robotics.

Guess you made a good impression.

[jojomiwbvb6]

Author's note: I thought this blurb up tonight and knew you guys will eat it up bc bitch, me too. (Yes the title is inspired by INK, but it fits)

The Shower Scene

Warnings: this is a work of fiction. NSFW, MDNI. Smut (18+) Swearing, voyeurism, descriptive, masturbation

Part 2 / Part 3

You had a long day on tour. Load-in was exhausting. Every time you turned around, at least one mechanism had a glitch or a cable went haywire. At least 2 malfunctions during the concert that they spent 10 minutes fixing. By the time load-out commenced, you were flat on your face and crawling to the bus.

The Bad Omens bus was as homey and fun as they could make it on the road. Tomorrow they had a day off in Denver, Colorado, and decided to venture the city for the day. As the bus pulled up to their nightly hotel, the crew, including you, and the band gathered their bags and got ready to depart the bus.

"Dude, I'm so ready to lay in that goddamn bed, I'm so fuckin' tired," Ruffilo commented.

"Fuck yeah, Albuquerque fucked me up." Folio responded.

"I'm gonna take the hottest fucking shower. The devil himself wouldn't be able to take the heat." You said.

This earned a chuckle from a few of the guys around you.

Noah walked up behind his bandmates. His face was calm, devoid of having any idea of what he could be thinking. He briefly ran his eyes over you, quickly looking away into the shadows.

Noah was always so cool, calm, and collected. He was so talented and funny and so, so fine. Of course you would never tell him how much you would say yes to him bending you over if he asked for it.

--

Holding your key in hand, you walk down the stale smelling hallway until you reach your door. You slide the key card into the slot, the door clicks, and you let yourself in.

You're looking at the floor before observing the room, rolling your suitcase into the door. You notice the light is already on and-- "oh my fucking god dude, you scared the shit out of me!"

Noah smirks and gives you a laugh. "Good,"

You blush, and quickly look for something else to look at.

"I know that normally we wouldn't room together," he paused, maybe noticing I was holding my breath. But he continued, "But the hotel was short a room, and we got stuck together last minute." He stopped again.

You nodded, trying to act like you normally do.

"If you're uncomfortable..." He began to say, unsure.

"No, Noah. Not at all. We bunk in the same bus. It's not like we're sleeping together."

There was a small silence that carried on slightly too long.

"Mmm. So, Imma take a shower," you said, ending the conversation with the man you were desperately trying not to want for the sake of your job.

You enter the bathroom, stepping out of your clothes. The door locked behind you, you stare at it and begin to overthink. The tension in your stomach gets you hot when you get the idea. You slowly unlock the door, slowly and silently turning the door handle and leaving the door cracked just a little.

The hot water hits your skin, steam rising into the air. You look at the door, there's nothing there. You shrug. It wouldn't work anyway, there's no way he's even gonna notice.

--

Noah looks down at his phone.

Hey, come get a drink downstairs, we at the bar.

The text from Davis lights up his phone. He texted back,

Yup be down in a minute dude.

Noah gets up from his bed and makes his way to the door, approaching the bathroom. He slows his tracks. Noticing that you had accidentally left the door cracked, Noah reaches out and goes to close the door. He looks up and just by accident, he gets a glimpse of the whole side of you.

You're closing your eyes, caressing yourself with the soap running down your breasts and to your hips. Everything all on display.

He knows that he should look away from you, but my God, the way your hands rub at your skin, his breath hitches and he's glued to his position.

--

After a few minutes of showering, you'd given up the small ounce of hope you had that your nasty fantasy faded and you began to really take a shower.

You applied the soap to your chest and stomach, rubbing the loofah against your skin. You scrubbed at your legs, and then when you glanced up, you almost didn't catch the tall silhouette in the shadow of the hotel room behind him. You did a double take, to make sure he was what you were seeing, and he was.

Your breath picked up. Smirking, you bit your lip and turned away from him. He didn't need to speak, and neither did you. He didn't have to know that you saw him, if he couldn't tell you did. No one in the band or crew needed to know he was in that door frame looking at your wet, naked body. And it's what you wanted.

You began to make every movement you made sexually charged. Pulling your hands over your breasts, you tugged on your nipples. Your fingers caressed and played with your breasts, rubbing the soap into them.

Dragging your fingers down to your navel, you squirmed. How much of a show did you want to give Noah? You decided you wanted him to remember just how hot you got with him standing there.

Not yet looking at him, you turn your back to the door. Rubbing your hands into your ass cheeks, gripping and spreading them only slightly. You bent over as you did this, sure to give him a little sneak peak of what you want him to see very soon.

You see his silhouette shift in the door over your shoulder, just knowing you have him right where you want him.

You turn around, finally letting your hand slide further down, and leaning against the back shower wall, you raise your leg to the ledge of the bath. You finally allow him your gaze and look at him completely as you spread your legs and sink your fingers into yourself, letting a small moan fall from your mouth.

You hear a quiet "Fuck," from the doorway and see his long, tatted fingers grip the door frame, revealing his presence from the shadows.

"Mm. I knew you were there," you said very quietly. He gave no response. You didn't look at him, continuing your movements into your pussy and letting Noah drink in every stroke and buck into your hand.

You continued to fuck onto your hand, gaining confidence under his silent watch. You turned your back to him again, bending over and putting your entire pussy on display for his viewing pleasure. Reaching underneath you, you begin rubbing yourself at a fast pace, small moans falling out of your mouth. You buck back on your hand again when you sink two fingers into yourself. You see Noah's fingers gripping the trim and more of his hand appears from the dark.

You gave him another treat by moaning "fuckkkk," and crying out. You swear you hear a growl from the doorway. The hand falls, palming a desperate hard on, but there's no way he wants what he is seeing to stop.

This was way too hot.

You took your fingers from your heat and placed them in your mouth, looking directly at the doorway. Dragging your hand over your pussy again, you finally lock eyes with his dangerous glinting eyes in the dark.

You insert a finger. "Oh, fuck," you smirk and tease as you talk. You look away, and pretending Noah isn't even there, you put in another finger. "Mmm..." And one more finger, you're brave enough to sigh, "Noahhh..."

At that, he storms into the bathroom. It's no longer a "secret" that he was standing there. His eyes are wicked and wild with a starving desire and he doesn't even hide the hard rise in his sweats. You're so hot and wet already, but it makes you tremble that he's here and has his eyes on your spread heat.

"Fuck..." You trail, gasping through your self assault that you didn't even stop when he surprised you with his barging in. You gasp, a moan coming out through your sentence. "Don't speak. Don't do anything. Just watch me, Noah. Fucking watch me... Please."

He does as you ask. He latches and locks the bathroom door, leaning back on the sink. Noah doesn't say a word. He doesn't touch himself, but his eyes feast on every single inch of you that's available to him.

You continue to touch and tease your body. Your fingers move faster and your heat is wetter with his presence in the room. Your moans are quiet but just loud enough for his ears. You see him run his eyes down your body with a slow lick of his lips.

Under his gaze, your fingers begin to move faster and your gasps come quicker. You're curling your fingers against that spot inside you, arching your back and giving him the best show possible.

"Ah, ah, ah," you chant, "Noah, fuck," you give to him, earning a small and satisfactory "mm." From Noah.

Your eyes roll back. Your hands are making your head spin and your stomach clench under his eyes as you rub your clit and bite your lip. His eyes never give way and stay locked on you. Sparks shoot through your body and your gasps never end. You see stars, your juices flowing down your legs. You're crumpled against the wall and panting.

Noah doesn't speak. He gives you one last burning, hot look, soaking the whole sight and everything that just happened into his mind.

He smirks at you, unlocks the door, and without saying a single word to you, he leaves the bathroom.

--

Noah. Dude. Thought you were coming down?

Text from Davis again.

Sorry man, I accidentally passed out for a minute. Be right there.

[labryveinth]

HELLO TUMBLR!!! LONG TIME NO SEE ... sowwy 4 not posting. been up 2 some MISCHIEF!!! anyway. this is my first oc post EVR.... his name is ethernet! he's an epic sans-turned-error variant.... :3 this is his official ref!!! me & my friend (@tearcynical) created an ask blog 4 ethernet & 4 his oc, crosswise, since they both play important roles in each other's stories. there, i'll reveal more about him as a character!!! the ask blog is named @wirenet (still a wip however...)

for now, you can have a short summary of his personality ( that is quite old but nonetheless... still an ok summary... ) — since an epic without whimsiness isn’t an actual epic, ethernet continues to be just as dorky as his original self, only to a certain extent. due to the multiple malfunctions and distortions of his code, his personality underwent a dramatic transformation. the once patient and calm demeanor he displayed gave way to a volatile and explosive temperament as if he were a time bomb ready to go off at any moment. years of depravation and sleepless nights have contributed to his short-fuse and paranoia, as even the smallest of irritations could ignite his anger, sending him into a tirade. and if you don’t play into his games or entertain him in any way — you may as well dig your own grave. as for his role, from an outsider's perspective, ethernet is considered a digital "destroyer", a threat to the multiverse. however, if you were to ask ethernet himself - he would not identify with any of these terms. due to the destructive nature of his abilities (and his fucked up code), he ends up destroying most things he touches. him "destroying" aus is him desperately searching for a part of himself that he's lost. his ultimate goal!! the reason why he's even touching other aus in the first place. what that "part of himself" is??? I'M NOT TELLING YOU!!! I'M LEAVING YOU ON A CLIFFHANGER!!! (until next episode) his main ability is his cables. it has two uses. first is "extraction", which allows him to extract information from any au by ripping an orifice in the fabric of the timeline & plugging his cables in (praying this made sense). the consequence of this ability is that, upon finishing extraction, the au becomes distorted (and on most occasions, self destructs). the second, replication, allows ethernet to copy an au’s extracted code and temporarily apply it to his own before it malfunctions. here is an example of how extraction would look like.... </3 vvv

here is what (half of) his skeleton looks like ! scandalous, i knoiw... :/

AND FINALLY.... HERE ARE SOME DOODLES I MADE OF CROSSWIRE & ETHERNET. they r canonically doomed yaoi crepic. their ship name is called wirenet how cool is that.!

CROSSWIRE BELONGS TO TEARCYNICAL!!! ok sorry 4 the massive art dump & yap. goodbye,.....

[macabr3-barbi3]

Entanglement (Sub Vox x Reader)

A request from the lovely @jurijyuu for a tentacle malfunction Sub Vox 💕📺

Tags: Restraints; Light Bondage; Sub Vox; Teasing; Begging; Dom/sub Undertones; Tentacles? Sort of? are Vox's cable/wire things tentacles? the world may never know

💙❤️💙❤️💙

Who could have guessed that trying to do something nice for his doll could have resulted in something like this?

Vox had been waiting for you to finish up with Velvette for the shoot that was happening this evening. He knew after hours of the fucked up poses that Vel forced you into to get the perfect shot you would be sore- she had had you hanging by your knees from the fucking chandelier on one occasion, insisting that the slight sway to the fixture would result it a cool shot from your camera (it did; that wasn’t the point). Her favorite photographer, Velvette was always fucking stealing your free time away from him. It was good for business, but bad for his plan of simply keeping you naked in his room at all times for easy access.

He had been laying in the bed, lazily stroking himself just in case you showed up, when the idea struck him to run you a hot bath and light some candles around the room. It shouldn't have been too much longer before you arrived so the candles wouldn’t burn out, and you always enjoyed it when he ‘set the mood,’ whatever that meant. He could probably sell you on fucking before your bath, too- even more deep aches and sweet bruises for the hot water to soothe.

He was too lazy to get up though, so he had snaked out a few of his cables from the back of his head, long and prehensile, a few pairs of them diving into the various drawers in the room searching for the candles and matches and two slithering across the floor towards the bathroom. Had he thought to check the floor for water from his shower a few hours prior before sending two very much electrical tentacles into the room he might have had better luck.

Currently though, his luck was shit. The water found its way into his wires and shorted them out, electrical current traveling all the way through to the base and fucking up the other cables as well; they whipped and snapped across the room in wide arcs and twisting wriggles, and his attempts to grab them from the air and cease the destruction to his room only resulted in his wrists getting tangled up in the mess.

So here Vox had been for the last fifteen minutes or so, restrained by his wrists in the bed and still achingly, frustratingly hard. His cables didn’t so much as twitch when he tries to send some power to them to reverse the entanglement, or when he tugged his arms a bit. His cock does though, and isn’t that something interesting that he doesn’t want to think about right now.

And then like an angel, there’s the sound of the door opening and you coming home. “Baby,” he shouts from the bedroom, and he hears the telltale thump of your camera bag on the kitchen counter. “I could use your help in here!”

“What did you do now? If you cracked your screen off the stand again-” Your voice trails off when you enter the room and see him- he’s sure he looks fucking ridiculous, spread out like he is, and he feels the spread of pink pixels over his screen in a blush.

“I was trying to do something nice for you,” he says, “and got some water in my wires. Everything went haywire, and, well, now I’m here. Be a doll and help me get loose?”

The way you’re watching him is a little disconcerting- not bad by any means, he loved having your eyes on him, just a little unusual. You slide your jacket off your shoulders and toss it on the armchair, sliding your hair out of its bun that you wear to keep your hair out of your eyes while you work. When you go for the button on your jeans he clears his throat.

“I appreciate the strip tease, sweetheart, but there’s more pressing matters at hand here.” He lifts his wrists in demonstration, the wires brushing his skin in a way that makes him suck in a harsh breath, dick twitching in his boxers. “Come on, help me.”

You work your jeans and panties down your legs, his eyes trailing the whole way before settling on the space between your legs. Then your shirt comes off, perfect tits on display as you do a rotation, let him take in the visual of your body in front of him before running your hands down your skin and back up- one hand plucks at a nipple while the other dips down between your legs.

Vox’s mouth is hanging open, pixelated lines of drool coming off his mouth as he watches you, cock throbbing out of his reach. He tugs at his makeshift restraints, a little breathless when it sends a bolt of arousal through his body- seriously, what the fuck? “I am in no mood to be teased right now,” he tells you, but the words are a little reedy and almost whimpered. He clears his throat and tries again- “Seriously, help me.”

You come closer to the bed, climb onto it and settle yourself between his legs. “Come on, Voxxy,” you murmur, and the low, dangerous tone to your voice goes straight to his straining erection despite the use of that fucking nickname that he hated. “Tied up all pretty for me and not even going to say ‘please?’ That’s not how you get what you want.” Your hands run up his calves, up his thighs, and your thumbs brush into the dip of his pelvic bone. Your touch sends electricity crackling through him, static sparking between his antennae. “That’s what you always say anyway- you wouldn’t want to be a hypocrite, would you?” You drag the waistband of his boxers down, and he’s half-mortified when his hips automatically cant up to make it easier for you, his dick slapping heavy onto his abdomen when it springs free.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He can feel the manic grin on his face- confused by the turn of events, by his sweet, perfect doll not simply doing what you were told and, what? Trying to get him to beg? As if- even if it was hot as fuck (and it was, Christ). “Baby, I- ohhhh, fuck-” 

Your head ducked down to lick a stripe up his cock, tongue curling around the head- his hips buck up, try to sink into the wet cavern of your mouth but you pull back with a soft smile. “Say please.”

“Fuck you.” Vox says this affectionately- he was the one in control in the bedroom, this was cute and all, but he wouldn’t plead with you for it.

“Not with that attitude, you won’t be,” you snap back with a wicked grin on your face. And you’re gone again, bent over to lick and suck at the hard length of him with your ass in the air, just the way that he likes.

Again, when he tries to thrust into your mouth you pull off, and he tugs uselessly at his restraints, head falling back against the pillows when you bring a hand up to cup his balls, thumb running gently over the sensitive skin. “Haah- you’re going to fucking kill me.” He’s a little embarrassed by that whiny moan that had escaped him, but you’re not even looking at his face, head resting on his thigh to gaze lovingly at his fucking dick while you stroke and kiss and generally tease him.

Vox thinks he might be losing his mind, just a little. But fuck does he want it, want to lose himself in the wet heat of your mouth, sink deep into your slick cunt and watch you bounce in his lap. He could still do that with his hands restrained, right? He wouldn’t be able to grip your hips the way he wanted to, or get his fingers on your clit and revel in the way that always made you clench tighter around him- but he could make do if you wouldn’t release him.

And there’s the thought that does him in- that maybe you wouldn’t let him go, would keep him tied to the bed with his own goddamn wires to tease him endlessly, unable to do anything about it himself, evidently unable to convince you to do anything for him. He was at your mercy here, the thought making him dizzy with arousal and an unprompted whine falling from his lips when he notices you working your fingers between your legs while you finally let the head of his cock slip past your lips, suction on the tip that makes him see stars.

“P-please,” he breathes out, and you release him with a pop, such excitement lighting up your eyes that he wishes he had given in sooner- you were so beautiful when you were pleased and excited, what would you look like when he gave in to you like this?

You move up the bed, legs on either side of his, and slide your drenched folds against the length of him. Leaning down so your face is next to his, you press a deep kiss to his mouth, slipping your tongue alongside his before you pull back and whisper, “again.” Your hands press into Vox’s chest as you slot him against you, rub the head of his prick against your clit and groan in ecstasy.

His hips jerk at the sensation. “Please, baby,” he says darkly, “let me fuck you.”

“Hmm, not quite what I’m looking for.” You lift off of him, slide back and out of reach again. “Try again?”

“What? Come on, I can’t-” He pulls at his restraints again, and the way your eyes go half-lidded at the sight gets the message through. “You wanna keep me trussed up, is that it?”

“Is it so wrong for the photographer to want to keep a pretty picture on display?” Your fingers twitch between your pretty thighs, grinding tiny circles into your clit while you wait for him to give you what you want. “I wish I hadn’t left my camera in the kitchen; I would love a shot like this. I’d have to get some different lighting…” Your hips stop moving for a moment as you look around the room. “Maybe candlelight would work? I think that would cast a nice glow on your skin, so pretty- fuck, should I go get my camera?”

“No!” The word breaks past the dam of his lips when you use one of his own tricks against him- the threat of ending the pleasure when you’re so fucked out and cock drunk, on the brink of cumming. “No no no, doll, don’t leave- fuck, please, alright? Please touch me, fuck me, ride my cock. I’m fucking begging, I need it-”

A shudder rolls through your body, and finally, finally you sink down on him, a slow, delicious slide that has his fingers clenching uselessly where they’re held, wishing he could hold you, dig his claws in like he usually did.

“I didn’t say stop,” you moan, watching him through narrowed eyes. “Come on, Voxxy, tell me what you want.”

“I want you to stop fucking t͖͖̠̬͛ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅi̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟ me-” Your hips slow and Vox bites his tongue, rephrasing- and this time, to his chagrin, the stream of words doesn’t fucking stop. “Please, baby, don’t stop- f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔, so fucking good, I w-want- I wanna cum, please, keep going, you f-feel so f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟ g̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓-” An honest to God whimper comes out of him, so invested in both of you cumming that he can’t even find the sense in him to be embarrassed by what was happening. His screen is glitching out, his vision broken when he goes full static every couple of seconds, but the glimpses he’s getting in between of you with your head thrown back are going to fuel his jerk-off sessions when he can’t spend the night with you for the rest of his afterlife. You felt fucking perfect around him, your swollen pussy walls squeezing him just right as you rode him.

“Say please,” you command, fingers working between your legs, the back of your hand brushing against his abdomen and causing the muscles to flutter under you. “Ask me to make you cum- ask for permission and I’ll let you cum in me-”

And didn’t that just sound like the perfect end to the evening? He doesn’t even question it, couldn’t stop his traitorous tongue if he tried. “Please, doll, oh my fucking- please please p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ, p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ, let me do it, cum with me-” He feels the tension in his entire body, from his suspended arms to the tips of his goddamn toes- he might actually fully fucking short out, he thinks deliriously, processors overloading in his brain at the sights and sounds and the feel of you sucking him into your greedy body. “- p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ let me, baby- oh f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔, I’m gonna-”

You hit the peak of your orgasms together, your body jerking in his lap like you’ve been electrocuted while your cunt wrings him like a fucking towel, tensing and rippling around his cock as he spills into the slickness, long pulses of cum as far inside of you as he can get and its not enough- he can never be close enough to you to feel complete so he settles for filling you with everything he has to give.

Vox doesn’t black out, but its a near thing- the explosion of sudden voltage to his circuits actually jump-starts the core of his cable tentacles and they spring to life, his wrists finally coming free and falling to the bed so he’s spread out like some fucked up crucifixion. They’re numb, he realizes, but before he can get to doing anything about that you shift, reaching for them and massaging feeling back into his limbs. There’s some light bruising, but nothing crazy, not any worse than you had whenever the pair of you occasionally delved into bondage. 

The heavy breathing of you both evens out, and you bring his hands to your mouth to press light kisses to them. When you’re satisfied you release him, and his arms wrap around your back. You press a gentle kiss to his screen and rest your head on his chest. 

“You know,” you mutter into his skin, “technically I didn’t give you permission to cum. That’s gotta count for… something. I’m not sure what.”

He snorts into your hair. “Doesn’t count for shit. You cheated, waiting until I was right on the brink to say that shit.”

You hum, and snuggle closer. “You liked it though? Maybe a repeat in the future?”

His instinct was to say no, but he couldn’t deny that he had enjoyed it- you were a dangerous force in control, something he would maybe have to mention to Velvette so she would let you direct your own goddamn shoots. “We’ll talk about it,” he settles on, still a tad embarrassed by his reaction to the whole thing. “I do think you should have to draw the bath now, though- for both of us, since I think you rode me so hard my thighs have bruises.”

“Oh fuck off,” you laugh into his chest, but you still roll off of him and disappear into the bathroom- the sound of running water fills the room while Vox tries to remember how to make his legs work.

“I better not see that camera in here, either!” He shouts, and your responding giggle brings a smile to his face.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56081230

[brookie-kookie1943]

Hero of the Heart

Jack Traven x fem!Reader - Fluff

So, this is basically a self insert but I’ve changed and added a few things. I don’t know - I really liked this idea and I think it’s easier to start with considering my long hiatus of writing lol

(All these photos are from Pinterest)

Warnings: Use of y/n, incredibly cliche, cursing.

~~~~~~

Maybe it was when you woke up late, or maybe when you accidentally tripped going down the stairs. It could’ve been when you spilled your hot coffee all over your arm. However, as you sit here in this elevator, you realize this is the worst thing to happen all day.

It had stopped moving about thirty minutes ago - or maybe an hour - there’s a lot of maybes in this situation. All you know is that bad luck had struck again and now you’re in an elevator stuck between the twenty-second and twenty-third floor. And at your job, no less. Doesn’t the universe know you’re too busy right now for this shit?

Of course, you freaked out at first - who would want to be stuck, alone, in a box made of hundreds of pounds of steel? You pressed the emergency button until you finally got a response, letting those firefighters know what kind of predicament you were in. At least you were going to be saved by sexy firemen!

The shock and fear wore off a little and now you were sitting up against the wall. Waiting for movement, for people - anything. What you couldn’t hear was the sound of ticking above your head. That sound was one Jack Traven knew very well.

Unbeknownst to you - yours wasn’t the only elevator to have mysteriously stopped. There was another elevator stuck between the thirtieth and thirty-first floor. The difference was: no bomb went off above yours, but it sure was ticking.

After waiting for what seemed like forever, you heard a drilling noise above you. It made you panic - what the hell is that? Hopefully it was someone coming to save you from this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the LAPD!” You heard a man’s voice above the elevator. You felt a sigh of relief leave you, looking up at the ceiling despite knowing you won’t see the man who called out to you.

“It’s just a lady!” You responded, a lighthearted way to let the officers know it was just you. You were cursed by not being able to see the handsome smile spread across Jack’s face at your answer - despite the situation.

“Well ma’am, I promise I’ll have you out of there as soon as possible.” He tells you, and you feel curiosity fill you. What even put you in this situation in the first place?

“What happened to the elevator?” You ask, not wanting to admit that you sort of feared the answer. Jack knew he couldn’t tell you that there was a bomb strapped to the cables of the elevator you were on - and it could blow up when the timer went off if not deactivated.

“There was a malfunction, nothing serious. Just relax, ma’am.” He told you. You couldn’t help but believe him. After all, he sounded so calm and cool, and he brought that effect on to you. It took a few minutes for it to dawn on you that you were talking to a police officer.

Anxiety filled your chest once again at this thought. Why did they send officers? You called firefighters - you expected firefighters. You expected maybe even repair guys. If only you knew that Jack wasn’t just an officer. He was apart of the bomb squad. On the SWAT team. You would freak.

You can’t help but curl up where you sit on the floor. Somehow tears aren’t falling from your eyes - which would totally ruin your mascara. You’re scared, yes, but you can’t seem to express it. Little do you know that Jack is scared too. And he can’t express it either.

He’s got this gut feeling that this lunatic who put bombs on these elevators isn’t using hostages for easy bribing money. No - these hostages aren’t potential collateral. The maniac is going to blow them up anyway, whether he gets the money or not.

Despite the protests from his partner Harry, preferring they follow Captain McMahon’s orders and wait, the cog wheels are already turning in Jack’s head. The lunatic can bomb the elevators all he wants - they just have to take you out of the equation.

All the while, you are contemplating just the same as Jack. Your thoughts are much more melancholic, though. Maybe you should have thanked your mother more for those ugly shoes, or talked to your father about something that wasn’t money related. So many maybes and not one is about you potentially surviving this situation. You have got to calm down.

It is less than calm on the outside of this elevator, though. More officers are trying to remove hostages on the other elevator before their time runs out - which they have a lot less time then you do. At this point, you’re the only one that hasn’t been let in on the sick joke of possible death.

Jack won’t let that happen, though. He’s hooked up a long cable to the elevator from a crane on the roof which should hold you up if it start to fall. Then, there’s a sudden explosion to test that theory.

You let out a scream as a large explosion happens over your head, and you begin to fall farther and farther down. You cling to the handlebar on the wall before everything stabilizes once again. Well - the theory was somewhat successful and now you’re in on the sick joke.

“What the hell is happening!” You scream to anyone that may possibly hear you. Jack is quick to respond despite his panting and the sound of his heart beating in his chest. “It’s alright, ma’am, everything’s alright!”

“Is there a bomb on this elevator?!” You say in a panic, a little annoyed by his forced reassurance. Everything is definitely not ok. “…yes, there is. I’m sorry, ma’am.” He reluctantly informs you. You don’t think you’ve dreaded an answer more in your life.

You wish you would’ve had a bit more time to process that answer but the elevator jerks downwards more and more. Maybe that theory wasn’t so successful after all. You breathe frantically, trying to stay as still as possible as if it will help stop the moving.

Jack and Harry are already running from the elevator shaft to the small lobby to catch you before you fall between another floor. In spite of your weak attempts to stop the movements, you only seem to be jerking more violently. It’s so bad you can barely stand straight - this was a horrible day to wear heels.

By some blessing of God, you watch as the elevator doors are pried open. Not much time for celebrating when you’re still in this damn thing. You’re finally face to face with what you assume is the cop you’ve been talking to - and his familiar calm and cool voice only proves it.

“Come on! Take my hand!” Jack yells to you; his voice isn’t so calm and cool now. You don’t hesitate, wobbling your way over to him as quickly as humanly possible. You scream as the elevator shifts downwards for the umpteenth time - now only leaving a small gap between the exit and the metal wall blocking your path.

This it it. If it slides down any further, there won’t be an escape for you. Jack knows it and so do you. He reaches his hand further out to you, wrapping his large hand around your wrist to pull you closer. You quickly wrap your arms around his broad shoulders as he lifts you out of the moving elevator.

Your left heel slips off your foot just as you’re being pulled out by Jack, but you’re smart enough to not care. It’s like your Cinderella or something - though you don’t think someone will ever recover that shoe; the elevator as already started plummeting to the bottom.

Throughout the chaos, Jack pulling you out sends the both of you falling on the ground. You’re still quivering in fear in his arms as he tries to relax you and himself. “You’re alright. You’re safe. You’ve got to evacuate.”

You nod and slip your other heel off when you stand back up. You hold the shoe in your hand as you make sure to put some distance between you and this damn building. Ambulances are around - helping and caring for the other hostages that were in your situation not even ten minutes ago.

You think it’s been about an hour before anything major happens. You’ve been sitting the back of an ambulance; tears dried and a blanket around your arms. Thankfully no one, including you, was injured during the rescue. That is, until you see someone being wheeled out of the building in a stretcher.

It sort of looks like that blonde haired cop that helped save you earlier. He’s awake…but there’s something wrong with his leg. Then, you see his partner following closely behind - the same one you practically climbed on. You want to say thank you, so you wait until he’s done checking on his partner.

“Hey, um, I just want to say thank you for saving my life. I could never repay you.” You say sincerely, and you could swear you saw a small blush fill Jack’s face as he responds humbly. “It’s my job, ma’am. No need to thank me.”

You smile before looking over at his partner, visibly cringing when you see the bullet wound in his leg. “Is he going to be alright? What happened to him?”

“Oh, Harry will be fine. I shot him.” Jack informs you with a sweet smile - as if he didn’t process what he just told you. When he sees your confused expression, he sighs a bit embarrassingly. “It’s a long story.”

You give a slow nod. You’re not going to question it any further. Jack looks down at your feet, seeing that you’re wearing the flimsy hospital shoes the ambulance had to offer. “It seems like you found some new kicks, huh?” He jokes lightheartedly, causing you to laugh quietly.

“Yeah. I don’t suppose I’ll ever get that other heel back, will I?” You ask, though you already know the answer. It’s highly unlikely. Jack shakes his head. Something about him tells you he would’ve got it for you if he truly could.

Finally, you get to look at him. Really look at him. You were so rightfully distracted by the thought of death that you didn’t notice how handsome he was. For a moment, you’re glad those sexy firefighters didn’t come and save you. Nothing beats a sexy cop like this man.

“Well, the hostage you saved is Y/N, by the way.” You quip while holding your much smaller hand out to him. He takes your hand - careful not to squeeze - and shakes it with a laugh. “The cop that saved you is Jack Traven if you want to give me a good review.”

“I’ll think about it.” You tease, watching as he leaves you to rest from the traumatic experience you just went through. You’re practically breaking your neck to watch him walk out of your line of sight. What a man. What you wouldn’t give to have a slice of that in your life.

You hope to see him again. After all, you do take the bus to work…

[randofics]

Thermalis

🎶 Maroon5- she will be loved

Ultra Magnus x reader

18+

-------

Magnus was using his thermals to look over a malfunctioning piece of equipment when your entrance caught his attention. Your vibrant figure stood out against the cold blue of the concrete floor. Even the breath puffing through your nose and mouth had a fleeting heat.

It got colder inside during these winter desert nights. Cold enough for you to constantly wear your old high-school hoodie and leggings.

To his surprise, you weren't wearing the hoodie. Instead, it was tied around your waist, leaving your top half covered in a tank top. He observed your heat signature as you climbed the metal steps to the platform, curious at the way heat seemed to radiate from your belly, chest, and head. Your limbs were a bit cooler, and your fingers even cooler than them.

You noticed him staring and gave him a small smile. "What is it, Magnus?"

Shaking his helm slightly to clear it he hummed in question back at you. "I noticed you staring, so what's up?"

"Ah apologies y/n I noticed you weren't wearing your hoodie."

"Oh yeah, Rachet had me working on some of his equipment earlier. The cooling system was malfunctioning, so I had to wriggle inside where it was still hot to repair a few things. Made me sweat like a racehorse." He nods, remembering his own tech troubles. "I may have a similar problem with this equipment here."

"Really? Well, I can take a look if you want?"

"That would be much appreciated, thank you." He held out his servo for you to hop into and brought you over to the malfunctioning machine. Popping open a side panel, you lay on your back to slide inside all the way to your waist. Magnus observes your arms, moving about as you look over the wires and cables inside. The flashlight between your teeth slips in your concentration and smacks you in the forehead before rolling further inside the machine.

"OW... I sworney! Get back here, ya stupid flashlight!" Magnus quirks a browridge as you feel around for the familiar cylinder of your light. You shift your legs from their side laying position to propped up and spread as you reach further inside. Having forgotten his thermals were still on, the hot signature between your thighs drew in his optics.

He somewhat understood why your torso would be so hot but down there? Cybertronians were usually cold there. As you finally grabbed the light and continued your work, Magnus was staring off into space. His processor wandering. He couldn't help his curiosity in how that warmth would feel against him but remembered that organics were wet and squishy inside. At first, the thought kinda grossed him out, but the longer he thought about it, the stronger his curiosity became till he finally steered his thoughts towards you.

He hadn't been thinking of you specifically, at least not at first, but now he was thinking of how you would feel on his spike. The raunchy thoughts caught him off guard. He shook his helm to dispell them, clearing his vocalizer. A blue blush crossing his faceplate. He needed to distract himself with work. Walking over to his data pad, he turned it on, trying to busy himself with "paperwork."

He couldn't stop his thoughts about you. He wondered how much your temperature would change as he worked you up and how plush your body might be in his servos.

"Something wrong, big guy?" He gives you a strange look. You feel a bit shy under his gaze and trip over your words. "Magnus? Wh-what is it? Why are you... staring at me like that?" He kneals, and you take a step back.

"Your heat signature."

"What about it?" He clears his vocalizer standing straight again. "Nevermind, forget I said anything."

"Okaaay... I'm finished with the repair." He gives you a curt nod, turning back to the screens covered in cybertronian script. "Thank you for your assistance, y/n." Shaking your head, you walk away, not realizing the mech has his optics on you.

He silently watches you leave, finally switching his thermals off so he can see everything in normal color.

-------

The next hour or so was very unproductive for him. He just couldn't stop thinking about you no matter how hard he tried. Eventually, he gave up deciding that a night drive would calm his racing processor. But as fate would have it, he wouldn't be alone.

You jogged into the main room, calling to him as he got ready to transform. "Magnus! Magnus! Wait up!" He qwirked a brow ridge as you huffed from running. "Do you... mind dropping me off at my place?"

"Is Bumblebee unable to?"

"Yeah, he's busy helping Optimus." He nods, transforming in front of you. His driver side door pops open, and you step up inside. With your seatbelt secure around you, he drives through the tunnel.

Raindrops hit his windshield as he passed the giant hidden doors. Puddles had formed in the almost hydrophobic desert soil as an unusual hard rain poured from the heavens. He didn't need to use his wipers, but for the sake of blending in, he turned them on. Several cars passed in the opposite lane, almost backed up for some reason.

You looked farther ahead and spotted the flashing lights of police vehicles. You could see that the road ahead was blocked off by barricades and police cruisers. A large section of road had collapsed in the rushing floodwaters, and no one would be getting through anytime soon.

"Ugh, that's just great! Now, how will I get home?"

"You could accompany me for a drive while I find another way through?"

"Ok, if you're alright with it?" You watch the lights on the radio flash as he speaks. "I have nothing better to do at the moment." He makes a u-turn following the other vehicles through the translucent sheets of rain. A few minutes down the road, he turns onto a dirt one. You can feel his shocks taking the brunt of the worn potholes as he slowly drives through them.

Mud cakes his tires and undercarriage, making it hard to get a good grip on the road. The detour was proving more and more fruitless by the minute. He grunted as his tires spun in a particularly deep wallow. The mud had practically drained from under his tires, leaving him on top of a shelf of mud. His weight now off his tires put pressure on his undercarriage.

In cybertronian, he cursed his steering wheel, turning left and right as he tried to gain enough traction. With that not working, either he partially transforms using different parts to drag himself forward, eventually escaping the deep mud.

"That was deep! I was beginning to wonder if I should call for a wrecker."

"I doubt Bulkhead or Wheeljack would've been much help." You let out a chuckle at his misunderstanding. "No, I mean a wrecker like a vehicle recovery truck. They're mainly used for semi recovery." He grunts in recognition, continuing down the road.

The lights of a main road shine up ahead, and you breathe an unconscious sigh of relief when he rolls onto the asphalt. It's obvious, however, just how much mud is stuck to his tires as he unevenly drives down the road. As you continue looking forward, you spot an empty car wash.

"How about we stop at this car wash so I can spray you down?"

"Agreed, my tires aren't getting enough traction with this mud." He pulls into the semi sized wash bay and cuts his engine. The old car wash only has one working light in this bay, leaving it washed in a dim greenish-blue. Stepping out, you take the pressure washer in hand, immediately starting on his tires. The mud washes away relatively quickly, and before you know it, you're kneeling down, trying to spray his undercarriage clean.

The yellowish lights of an older pickup truck shine across you, and Magnus as a man pulls into the small lot. He parked next to the air pump, stepping out onto the glossy wet pavement. The rain had finally settled down quite a bit.

As you continued your spraying, the man was clearly watching you as he stood there a moment. He suddenly called out to you, gaining your attention. "Hey ma'am! Do you need some help?"

You wiped water from your face as you stood to face him. "No sir, I'm fine, thanks!" The man started walking over when you turned your back to him. Alarms rang in Magnus' processor, so he switched on his holoform. Opening the driver's side door, he stepped out, making eye contact with the approaching man. Immediately upon seeing Magnus, he turned on his heels and walked back to his truck to put air in his tires.

Boots hitting the concrete drew your attention. You were met with an older man, probably in his late forties, his hair just beginning to grey and dressed in battle fatigues. He was clean-shaven and standing with his hands behind his waist as a general would.

"That you Magnus?" He only nods, watching the man as he finally gets back in his truck, driving away. Magnus turns to you as you finish spraying his undercarriage clean. "That feel better?"

"Yes, thank you, y/n." Noticing your slight shivering, he turns on his thermals again. You're a tad colder than you were back at base, and clearly, the spray of the hose dampened your clothes. The cool breeze didn't help much either. After spraying a clean path to his passenger door and cleaning your shoes, you step up inside again.

Glancing at his surroundings, he steps up into the driver's seat. Pulling forward, he drives into the dark, secluded rear of the car wash to park. As you rub your arms in an attempt to get warm, you give him a confused look. His seat slides back as far as possible, and he pats his lap.

"You want me to get in your lap?"

"You're cold, aren't you? It's the least I can do for that wash down." You bite your lip as you think it over. Caving, you clamber over to him, straddling his legs with your hands on his chest. Gently and a bit unsure of yourself, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lay against him. His holoform is warm to your surprise but not as much as a human. You nuzzle into his neck, closing your eyes at the comforting feeling of his presence. Arms wrap around your back, and you let out a content sigh, relaxing your muscles.

He feels your body loosen as your breath tickles his holoform skin. He wraps his arms around you and lets himself relax as well.

-------

A few minutes pass, and you can't help but fidget a little with his uniform buttons. "What are you doing?" His deep voice close to your ear sends a shiver down your spine. And you can feel your body react to him. Gently, you press your lips against his neck, taking him by surprise.

He sucks in a synthetic breath as you place more tender kisses on his skin. "Would it be alright if I switched holoforms?" You pause, leaning back to look him in the eyes. "You have a different holoform?" Now you were curious, would it be this human with different clothes or something else? "I can project a holoform of my true body as well as this human form."

Perhaps he wanted to do this in his true form rather than some human version of himself. It was understandable. You wouldn't want to do something intimate in another body either. You smile and nod, letting him know you were ok with it and his holoform morphs before your eyes.

That familiar blue, red, and silver body sits under you as solid as ever. When you shift in his lap, you brush against his modesty panel, sending a small jolt of pleasure through your nerves. His servos land on your waist, and you press your forhead against his in a sign of affection.

"What would you like me to do next?" His question has you smiling, giving him a soft chuckle. "Just do what feels right, Magnus."

"Mmh, alright then." He takes your jaw in his servo, pulling you in for a kiss. It's gentle at first, both of you unsure about yourselves but slowly you get into a rhythm of sorts. His glossa ran over your teeth, asking for entry, which you obliged. His denta clashed against your teeth as the kiss grew frantic. Subconsciously, you scooted forward, sitting right on his modesty panel. His servo gripped your rear, lifting you slightly as you heard feint clicks. When you sat back down His modesty panel wasn't there anymore instead replaced by a spike of sorts. Rounded and pliable like some kind of silicone covered metal. It was dark charcoal grey with feint blue lights running along it.

A mad blush covers your face and ears as you look back up at him. He also looks nervous and can't keep eye contact with you. "I apologize y/n I didn't mean for that to happen." For once, you can hear nerves in his voice. He's normally so calm and collected much like Optimus.

Gaining confidence at his nervousness, you give him a peck on the lips, sliding off his lap. You strip in front of him all the way down to bare skin. His glowing eyes scan your body in awe as you gingerly slip back into his lap. "You're gorgeous. I don't know any femmies that even come close to your beauty." You almost tear up at his compliments.

He lets his servos roam your skin as he moves to kiss your neck. Small sounds escape your throat as he caresses your abdomen and deftly touches your spine. You position yourself on his spike, moving your hips back and forth to gain some pleasure. He groans in your ear as you rub yourself on him. Your slick leaks on him lubricating him for the next step.

When he breaks away from your neck, you kiss him again and sit up on your knees above him. "Are you certain you want to go through with this?" Your gaze is dark with arousal as you nod to him. You split yourself open, gently aligning him with your entrance as you finally sink down.

He hisses, cursing in cybertronian at the feeling of you around him. You let out a pitiful whine as he stretches you, filling you perfectly. You grip his shoulders to ground yourself as you both stay still for a moment. Relaxing your muscles, you slip just a bit further down to the base of him as he grips your hips tight.

When he attempts to move, you wrap your arms around his neck, gripping one of his ear finials. He moves his servos to your rear, lifting you up only to thrust back into you. Moans quickly flow from your lips as he gets into rhythm. A growl escapes him as he leans forward, getting out of the seat. With you he shimmys to his back cabin, laying you on the folding cot.

He gets on top of you and moves the pillow under your hips before slipping back inside you with a pleasured groan. You let out a gasp when he plunges back in, the different angle providing new pleasure. As he thrusts harder, you lock your legs around his waist and claw at his back plates. You can feel the coil inside you tightening as your muscles squeeze around his spike.

"Magnus... Harder!" Immediately, his hips snap harder into yours, and you feel your coil about to snap. It's only when he whispers to you something in cybertronian gripping the meat of your rear that it finally snaps. You call out his name as your body tenses, waves of white hot pleasure running through you.

He continues moving through your high, letting possesive synthetic growls slip through his vocalizer. An almost inaudible hiss of air meets your ears as your mind clears a bit, and you suddenly feel his girth increase inside you. It stretches you just a bit more, and you already feel another orgasm slowly creeping up on you.

Magnus isn't slowing down yet either as he lifts one of your legs to gain a better angle. His lips attacking your neck again as he chases his own release. His denta nip at your skin, and his glossa runs along your throat, making you shiver.

You feel his arms around you as he suddenly picks you back up, taking a standing position. He thrusts up into you, letting out what you can only guess is cybertronian dirty talk. Nonetheless, it works, and you know you're close to another release. Chanting his name like a mantra, you claw at his back and grip his finials.

"I'm close y/n!" You can't respond only letting moans flow from your lips. With a few more thrusts, he lets out a hiss cursing in cybertronian again as he releases inside you. Heat fills your womb as you squeeze him like a vice. Your legs tighten around him in an attempt to pull him further inside you. You can feel your walls pulse around him as he gently thrusts into you to ride out your high.

Breathing hard, you give him a sleepy smile touching forheads again in affection. He sits back in the driver's seat, letting you lay against him. "Can we stay here for a bit?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way." Wrapping your arms around his neck, you close your eyes. "I love you, Magnus." His spark swells with joy at that. "I love you as well, y/n."

[hailthegodsong]

TENDER LOVE

~ One Shot ~ Josh Kiszka x Injured Female Reader

Word Count: 9.6k + (sorry i got a bit carried away)

Summary: When a pyrotechnic at the last show of tour malfunctions and ruptures your eardrum, Josh does everything he can to get you home and healing, sticking by you at your absolute worst. Just a plain old (very self-indulgent) physical hurt/ comfort trope. A/N: For some reason this didn't upload properly the first orrr second time so third times a charm!

Content Warnings: Ruptured ear drum, extreme pain, ear infection, loud noises, fire, swearing, mentions of DIG cancelled shows due to Josh's ear injuries, injury, blood and other bodily fluids from injury, nausea, dizziness, caretaking Josh, prescription drugs including painkillers and antibiotics, infection, sleeplessness, anger and irritation, but mostly fluffy fluffy caretaking Josh.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

“How do you feel?” you asked softly, tugging the zipper of Josh’s jumpsuit up to its final notch. The bright fabric gleamed under the dim backstage lights, and his radiant smile only amplified the glow. You placed your hands flat against his chest, letting your fingers trace the velvety fabric in a quiet moment of affection.

“Excited… a little nervous,” he admitted, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. As he pulled away, his lips rolled together in thought, his fingers finding the hem of your shirt where they fidgeted absentmindedly.

“You’ll do great, you always do,” you reassured him, your voice firm but tender. “There’s nothing to be nervous about.” Your words carried more weight than usual– this was the last show of the tour. The whirlwind of hotel rooms, airports, endless flights, buzzing venues, and ceaseless movement was coming to an end.

It was bittersweet. Part of you would miss the pace– the constant hum of excitement, the thrill that came with living life on the move. But another part of you yearned for the simplicity of home. You longed for quiet mornings, expensive wine, and lazy days spent dancing around the living room in your pyjamas, just the two of you, free from the world’s demands.

Josh’s hand shifted slightly at your waist, drawing you back into the present. “I know,” he said, a hint of a grin breaking through his nerves. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just… festivals are scarier. So many people, so many more eyes.” His voice was quiet, but his eyes, locked on yours, searched for reassurance.

You raised a playful eyebrow, rising onto your toes until your face was level with his. “What happened to ‘fuck fear’? Hmm?”

A laugh escaped him, short and light. He leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a quick kiss before his hands squeezed your sides teasingly. “You’re right. As always.”

“Two minutes, Josh!” Tanner’s voice called sharply from the hallway, his usual pre-show routine to keep Josh on schedule.

Josh rolled his shoulders back and exhaled, his breath tight with anticipation. “You’ll be in the stage wing?”

“Of course,” you promised.

You followed him through the chaotic backstage tents, weaving past crew members and tangled cables, the orchestral opening for Starcatcher echoing through the space. When you reached his brothers, he stole one last kiss before bounding onto the stage with an energy that sent electricity through the air.

From your vantage point in the shadows of the stage wing, you watched them transform. Josh, Jake, Sam and Danny commanded the space with ease, their every movement amplifying the roaring energy of the crowd. And the deafening cheers seemed to fuel them ever more.

You stayed just out of sight, a comforting presence Josh sought with fleeting glances. Every now and then, he’d throw you a sly smile, one meant only for you, a silent reminder that you were always on his mind.

The show was everything it always was– loud, raw, electric. You swayed to the music, smiling fondly at Josh’s antics as he strutted across the stage. Feather boas and sparkly sunglasses were flung his way, and he soaked up the adoration like sunlight.

You stepped a little further to the right when one of the amplifiers beside you blared a little too loud, no doubt attributed to Jake's request. You considered putting in earplugs to protect your ears which were ringing slightly at the volume of the music, but a quick glance at the setlist had you realising that there were only two songs until the end of the show, and you wanted to hear it without obstruction. 

Swallowing back the mild discomfort, you refocused on the music, your heart beating against the rhythm as the song came to a climax. Danny's face twisted in passion as he abused his drums, swinging against the cymbals with fervour. 

At the last few swings, the hot heat of a nearby pyro machine blew off, shooting hot fire into the air, creating a symphony of chaos and raw aggression with the music. 

Each blow delivered had another bullet of fire shooting into the air, and you took a step back to relieve yourself of the burning heat ebbing from the machine nearby. Though it wasn't enough, as when you waited for the last beat to drop, the silence gave way to an unnatural hissing sound emanating from the machine only mere feet from you, awaiting the final beat.

That wasn’t normal.

The next few moments happened in a blur. They passed too quickly for you to decide to move away from the machine, and too quickly for you to truly register what happened. 

Bliding, hot light burst from the little black box, so bright that you lost sight of your surroundings completely. The small explosion was accompanied by a deafening bang, one that certainly wasn't normal, and one that had you cowering away, hands flying to your ears against the vibrations. 

But the damage had already been done. You hadn't realised the song was over, by the way the ringing in your ears deafened you completely. You stumbled back a few steps as a nauseating rush of dizziness overtook you. White, hot, searing pain spread across the side of your face, and you were sure you made a sound of protest had you been able to hear it through the shrill piercing noise that vibrated through your skull.

Disorientated and disabled by the confusion that wracked your body, you turned to the darkness, away from the stage, away from the ringing noise. 

But the ringing did not dissipate. No, in fact, it only seemed to grow louder with each step you took away from the stage. You hadn't realised your eyes had been screwed shut until you walked into something, hard and unmoving, the jolt of your head sending a pang of pain through your face. You had walked into an equipment storage box, you realised as you cracked your eyes open. 

Turning around to gather your bearings seemed to only make things worse, as the area in front of you tilted on its axis, and you were falling with it. Your hands still clutched the sides of your head, palms pressed over your ears protectively as you swayed to the side. 

A crew member you recognised, but couldn't remember the name of appeared in front of you, his face taut with concern as he grabbed your shoulders to steady your balance. 

“Woah, you alright?” he asked. His gaze drifted to the side of your face, looking at you didn't know what. He lifted your hand from your ear and winced. “Oh shit,” he muttered. You looked down at your hand, now hovering between the two of you, palm coated in a curdling mixture of blood and some unknown, yellow substance.

Blood. 

Blood. Blood? Why was there blood? What happened? You couldn't think through the pain that stretched across every nerve in your head, your jaw throbbing and ear aching against every noise that still drifted from the stage to where you stood. 

You hadn't realised the man in front of you had gone until he returned again with a towel, in which he folded and pressed against your ear. You hissed at the pressure against your head, but found yourself grabbing onto his forearm as you stumbled to the side a little. 

What was going on? 

“What happened?” you asked as he led you out of the side stage area, his hand still pressing the fabric against the side of your head. He walked you to the makeup trailer, and carefully sat you down on his makeup chair. 

“Looks like you fucked up your ear,” he explained, wincing as he saw the red soaking through the white fabric. “Don't worry, the set should have ended by now, Josh should be out soon,” he comforted. “I’m gonna go find a medic, just… stay still, try not to move too much.” And with that, he was gone, closing the caravan door behind him gently to alleviate any noise. 

Somethow, the silence in the small space was anything but comforting. Instead, it gave way to the persistent ringing, which now not only pierced the side of your head, but what felt like your entire face. You steadied yourself with one hand on the edge of the dressing table, the other still pressing against your ear as if the pressure would alleviate some of the pain. 

It didn't. 

It sounded as if you had been cloaked underwater, the ticking of the clock by the door muffled yet still pounding against your ears. You tried to focus on a singular point in the room, in a feeble attempt to quell the circus spin of your vision, but it only seemed to get worse, at one point almost knocking you off your idle position in your chair. 

Not long went by before the door to the caravan opened and Josh stepped in, flushed and sweaty, his eyes searching the space before they landed on you. 

“There you are Baby, I’ve been looking all over for you. You okay?” he asked, stepping towards you, his perky expression quickly turning confused at the sight of you, cowering in a chair with a grimace on your face. 

You hissed, not knowing what was worse, the slam of the door against the wall or the ring of his loud voice. You didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but you winced against the noises, each sound like a hammer to your face. 

“Shhh,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut through the intense pain. You felt like you were going to be sick. Josh furrowed his brows and continued towards you until he stood in front of you, crouching onto his knees to lower himself to your eye level. 

“Baby, what happened?” he asked, tilting his head to see the cloth pressed against your ear, a shadow of blood staining the fabric from where it had soaked through. “Is– are you bleeding?” he asked, voice loud in alarm and concern, making you whimper out in pain as you clutched the fabric closer. 

“Fuck! Be quiet, please,” you begged, a hot tear slipping from your eye, running down the crevice between your nose and cheek and landing on your lips. 

Josh’s eyes were wide in complete shock and confusion as well as concern for your health. He nodded frantically, whispering a ‘sorry’ before shuffling closer to you on his knees. 

“Can I?” he asked, voice softer this time as he reached out to touch the towel bunched up against your ear. You nodded, but quickly regretted it as the feeling closely resembled your brain being loosely tossed around your skull and made you wince. 

Josh's frown deepened at your pained reaction, and he tentatively reached up to remove the cloth. It stuck to your skin with dried blood as he peeled it away slowly, blinking at the sight of the oozing yellow substance. 

“Shit,” he whispered, conscious to keep his voice low. “You’ve fucked up your ear drum, Baby.”

He pressed the cloth against your ear again, providing you with a level of protection from the sound around you, and stroked his thumb against your sweaty forehead. 

“How did this happen? Were the amps just too loud?” he asked, planting another hand on your knee. 

You shook your head, only to be met with an overwhelming dizziness, again. You had got to stop doing that. You squeezed your eyes through the spell and felt Josh’s hands steady you by the shoulder. “Try not to move too much, your balance is out of whack,” he instructed. 

“The fire…” you explained meekly, your jaw throbbing with pain when you spoke, “It went wrong or something. Exploded.”

His eyes widened at your words, a panicked look on his face as his eyes addressed the rest of you, “Shit, it didn’t burn you did it?” he asked. 

You hummed a ‘no’, avoiding shaking your head as well as speaking to preserve some essence of comfort against the pain. Although relieved, his frown remained, seeing you in pain being one of the hardest things to watch. 

You rubbed your temples, groaning in pain. “Ugh, it hurts so bad…” you said, mostly unable to hear yourself through the noise being created in your ear. 

Josh pressed his lips together and caressed your hairline with nimble fingers, “I know, honey. I know. It’s going to be really uncomfortable for the next few weeks, but I’ll be here.” Josh looked up to the roof and ran the heel of his palm over his forehead harshly, “Fuck, this is all my fault.”

“Why?” you whispered, a protective feeling washing over you at Josh's self-blame. 

“I asked them to turn the pyros up– wanted it to be extra for the last show ‘n everything. And now you’re hurt– badly, and if I hadn’t just–”

“Josh,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder, “You didn’t know it was going to do that. This isn’t your fault. It isn’t anybody's fault. Please don't blame yourself.”

He sighed and gave you a small smile, “Okay, Honey, I’m sorry. Let's just worry about you for now, ‘kay?”

You gave him a small sound to signal your agreement, and let your eyes fall shut, breathing deeply through your nose to try and calm the pain.

“I need to go get someone. A medic or something, will you be okay here on your own?” he asked. 

“Someone’s already on their way,” you explained through gritted teeth.

“Alright, good,” he sighed, patting your knee. “Are you comfortable here? Want me to take you to the couch to lay down?” he asked, looking up at you from his kneeled position, hands braced around your body as if you could break at any moment. 

You reached up to knead the side of your thumb into the muscle of your jaw in an attempt to quell the pain. “Yes please,” you answered with a sigh.

Josh nodded and stood quickly, “Alright Baby, just lean on me. You’re gonna feel really dizzy when we stand up, but I won’t let you fall, promise.”

You had almost forgotten Josh had been through this exact injury before, having experienced the pain, the discomfort, the dizziness. Josh helped you stand with a tight arm wrapped around your body, and walked you over to the little couch in the corner of the room. 

You weren't as dizzy this time, with Josh's stability stopping you from toppling over, but the painful waves of nausea still boiled in your throat. 

“There we go, slowly now,” Josh guided, helping you lay down on the couch as he promptly settled a few pillows beneath your head. 

Josh hovered beside you as you eased back onto the couch, his hand never leaving yours as he adjusted the pillows beneath your head with delicate care. His brow furrowed, concern etched into every line of his face. You watched him through the throbbing ache that pulsed from your jaw to your temple, his frantic gentleness almost endearing, if not for the pain clouding your thoughts.

“There,” he murmured, crouching down to your level. He smoothed a strand of hair from your forehead, his fingers cool against your overheated skin. “Better?” he asked.

You gave him a faint smile, though it faltered as the sharp ringing in your ears gnawed at the edges of your sanity. Josh’s expression softened, his thumb brushing lightly across your knuckles.

“You know,” he began, his tone lightening as a flicker of mischief danced in his eyes, “This reminds me of that time I tripped over the amp cable in Chicago. Remember that? Flat on my face, right in front of the crew. You laughed so hard, you fell off the equipment case you were sitting on and sprained your wrist.”

Despite yourself, you chuckled weakly at the memory, but the movement sent a jolt of pain radiating through your head. You winced, your hand flying to your temple.

“Don’t make me laugh, Josh,” you groaned, though there was no real irritation in your voice– just a kind of weary exasperation.

He grinned sheepishly, his free hand reaching out to rest gently on your arm. “Sorry, Baby. I’ll save the comedy routine for when your head’s not about to explode.”

There was a knock at the door, sharp but not overly loud, and Josh raised a brow and turned his head toward it, relief flashing across his face. “That’ll be the medic,” he said, rising quickly. “I’ll grab the door. Be right back.”

As Josh opened the door, a middle-aged woman with a warm presence stepped in, carrying a small medical bag slung over one shoulder. She gave you a professional yet kind smile as she approached, her eyes scanning your pale face and the makeshift towel still pressed to your ear.

“Hi there, Hun,” she said warmly, setting her bag down on the floor beside the couch. “I’m Michelle. I hear you’ve hurt your ear, mind if I take a look?”

Josh lingered close, peering over Michelle's shoulder as she carefully knelt beside you, donning a pair of gloves and reaching for the towel. “Can I remove this?” she asked gently.

You nodded hesitantly, bracing yourself for the volume of the room. She pulled the towel away slowly, inspecting your ear with a practiced eye. Josh winced as the bloodied cloth revealed the full extent of the damage– dried blood mixed with a clear yellowish fluid that trickled from your ear.

“Yep, definitely a ruptured eardrum,” Michelle said, her voice calm but definitive. “The noise volume must’ve done it.” She frowned as she observed the sight, pulling out a flashlight from her shirt pocket and shining it down your ear canal. “There's a lot of fluid buildup…” she commented, mostly to herself. 

“Is that a bad thing?” you asked, and Josh squeezed your calf from where he could reach. 

“Not great… you’re going to have some trouble with hearing, and the pain won't be great, but I can write you a referral for some strong painkillers. Let me clean you up and give you some low level pain relief, honey.”

Josh’s hand found your knee, running his thumb over your skin comfortingly. “How long will it take to heal?” he asked, his voice tight with worry, looking back at his own injury that led to numerous cancelled shows and a painfully long recovery period.

“Shouldn’t be longer than 2 to 3 months to fully heal… as long as it doesn't get infected,” Michelle assured him, beginning to clean the area with a gentle touch. “The dizziness and nausea are from the damage to the inner ear, but they’ll subside as she heals. It’s important she takes it easy for the next few weeks especially, no loud environments, no sudden movements– and no flying either, the air pressure can worsen the injury. You need to keep the ear dry too to prevent infectious growth.”

Josh nodded, having heard the same instructions for his own ear, although he had forgotten about the no-flying rule. 

“Looks like we're gonna have to road trip it back home this time, Sweetheart,” Josh said, his eyes meeting yours as the medic wiped the fluid from where it had dried on your neck. 

You groaned, “We’re gonna have to split it into two days, the drive’s too long to manage at once,” you complained. 

Josh smiled sympathetically, “That's alright, we aren’t in a rush. I’ll book us a night at a fancy hotel along the way.”

“Drive carefully,” the medic intervened as she rummaged in her bag for something, “Driving can be really uncomfortable with all the movements and bumps. Once you’re home I suggest bedrest for at least a week, just to make sure you aren't exposed to any loud sounds. You probably wont want to leave bed either way with the dizziness… and the nausea.”

You muttered a sarcastic ‘great’ under your breath, but were surprised when you couldn't even hear yourself, the sound no longer being drowned out by ringing, but some kind of muffled blockage. 

Josh knelt beside the couch to be closer to you, his eyes darting between you and the medic. “That means it's your turn for couch duty, Beautiful. So no arguing when I’m waiting on you hand and foot this time.”

You managed a weak laugh, wincing as the movement tugged at the pain in your jaw. Josh immediately leaned closer, his face a mixture of apology and affection. 

Josh shook his head with a wry smile, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles on the back of your hand. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’m not used to seeing you like this. Usually, you’re the one fussing over me.”

You gave a faint smile, your eyelids fluttering as the medic wiped away the last remnants of blood and discharge from your neck and squeezed a few drops of steroid solution into your ear canal. The cool liquid stung sharply and itched fervently as it travelled into your ear, and you hissed, squeezing Josh’s hand instinctively. His grip tightened in return, grounding you.

“All done,” Michelle reassured, her voice steady. “Just need to write you a referral and give you a rundown of what to watch for.” You nodded blankly, not quite hearing what she had said.

Josh shifted closer as she worked, his eyes never leaving your face. “You hear that? Almost done. Then we’ll get you all set up back at the hotel— blankets, snacks, whatever you want. You won’t have to lift a finger.”

“Josh,” you mumbled, your voice soft but laced with humor despite the ache in your head. “You’re acting like I’ve lost a limb.”

He feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “You’re bleeding out, did you really expect me to react differently?” he joked.

Michelle stifled a chuckle, glancing at Josh. “Well, she’s not wrong— she isn’t ‘bleeding out,’ but it’s good to have someone looking after her. She’ll need plenty of rest and hydration.” Michelle sat back on her heels, peeling off her gloves with a practiced snap. She placed a bottle of pain relief and an antibiotic prescription on the small table beside the couch.

“Take these as directed,” she instructed, her tone firm but kind. “If the dizziness or nausea gets worse, or if the pain doesn’t improve in a couple of days, make sure you see a doctor. And no loud music for a while, alright?”

You nodded slowly, each motion calculated to avoid aggravating the throbbing pain. “Thank you,” you said, your voice faint but sincere.

Michelle packed up her kit and rose to her feet, addressing Josh. “She’ll be alright as long as she takes it easy. If you need anything, let the event staff know– they’ve got my number.”

Josh nodded, standing to see her out. “Thanks, Michelle. Really.”

As the door clicked shut, he turned back to you, his hands planted on his hips as if surveying the situation. “Alright, Missy,” he said, his tone playful but underpinned with care, “You’re officially banned from doing anything but lying here and letting me spoil you rotten.”

You smiled faintly, letting out a long, slow breath. “I think I can live with that.”

Josh grabbed a soft blanket draped over the back of the couch, spreading it gently across you. He settled beside you, his hand resting lightly on your arm. “Anything you need, you just say the word. Want to just lay here and cuddle? Or maybe we should watch one of those terrible reality shows you secretly love while we wait.”

You groaned dramatically, though a small grin tugged at your lips. “I’m not in the mood to see people throwing wine glasses at each other.”

“Well, how about I just sit here and look pretty for you, then?” he offered, leaning back with a mock-model pose that drew a reluctant laugh from you, quickly followed by a wince.

“Josh,” you muttered, “I told you, don’t make me laugh.”

His grin softened into something warmer as he reached out, brushing a knuckle lightly across your cheek. “Alright, Baby, no more jokes. Just rest. Once the crew is all packed up and we’re able to head back to the hotel you’ll be able to sleep. Won’t be long.”

A rough hour went by before someone came in to tell you both that it was time to go, and Josh tentatively helped you stand and walk to the van, messily clambering into the nearest seat with much difficulty. 

Turns out Jake had noticed the pyro malfunction too, with being so close to it like you, he told you his own ears were ringing from the blast, and he had even seen you wobble off stage as you struggled to fight against the dizzy aftermath.

“That's why you should always be on my stage side,” Sam boasted, “Jake's shit is always too loud.”

You smiled fondly at the banter, but couldn't find it in you to react with any semblance of real humour, as truthfully, you were struggling to follow the conversation at all. Their voices were entirely too quiet, and you questioned how they were even able to hear themselves. 

Josh patted your thigh from beside you, and when you looked his way, his mouth moved almost soundlessly. 

“Huh?” you asked, leaning in closer to hear. 

Josh frowned, not wanting to raise his voice so as to damage your hearing even more, but knowing how difficult it was for you to hear through your ruptured eardrum. He mouthed a ‘nevermind’ and sent you a sympathetic smile, kissing your forehead sweetly.

Once back at the hotel, your dizziness quelled. You bid your goodbyes to the others, before sluggishly retiring to your hotel room with Josh, who refused to leave your side. 

After helping you out of your clothes and into your pyjamas without tipping over, Josh wandered into the bathroom to get both of your toothbrushes ready.

“I’ll miss this hotel room, ya know? It was one of my favourites,” Josh said, making his way back towards you with your toothbrush. 

“You’re only saying that ‘cause it has jacuzzi jets in the bathtub,” you argued with a small smile before slotting the toothbrush into your mouth. 

He smiled and knelt before you, “Hmm maybe you’re right.” He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmmph,” you shrugged, unable to speak around the toothbrush and mouth full of foamy toothpaste. You winced when opening your jaw too wide sent a jolt of pain through the side of your head. 

Josh jutted his lip out, “My poor Baby. I’m sorry this happened to you lovely, I know it’s not fun.” You shrugged, feigning indifference despite the discomfort. Josh helped you stand to make it to the bathroom and spit your toothpaste out. You relieved yourself while he changed, and took some medication as he showered, before settling into bed. 

You sighed heavily once under the covers, watching as Josh waddled around, hands busy as he got your phones into their chargers and things ready for the morning, a toothbrush hanging limply from his mouth, and damp hair dripping water buds down his neck. 

“Alright,” he sighed as he messily rubbed his head with a towel before finally slipping into bed, leaning to switch the bedside light off and shuffling across the bed to reach you. He looped his arm beneath your back and pulled your body against his, letting your good ear rest against his chest. “How’s that? Comfy?”

You hummed a half response, never truly comfortable with the ache in your head, but as comfortable as you could be. As the silence settled in, you became painfully aware of a persistent ringing somewhere in the distance. You wondered if it may be coming from the mini fridge, or maybe the air conditioning, but as you lay there against Josh, wide awake, it grew apparently louder. 

“Josh?” you whispered, and he turned his head towards you, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“Hm?”

“What’s that… What's that ringing? Can you shut it off?” You complained frustratedly, the ringing only making the pain and discomfort worse, nagging you relentlessly. 

“Shut what off?” he asked, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“The ringing… it's so loud,” you waved a hand around the room, “Hurting my ear…”

He was silent for a moment, listening out for what you may be talking about, before he sniffed, “I don't think there's anything ringing in here, sweetheart. Probably just a bit of tinnitus.”

You huffed frustratedly, grumbling something about how difficult it would be to sleep through the noise, and Josh rubbed broad circles on your back with the flat of his palm comfortingly. 

“Aht aht,” he warned, taking your hand from your ear. You hadn't even noticed it travel to the injured spot, fingers moving to crawl in and scratch away the itch that had been faintly nagging you. “I know it’s itchy, beautiful, but touching it will only make it worse. Just try and rest now.” He spoke softly, whispering small words of reassurance, until he himself drifted off to sleep, no doubt exhausted from the travel, the performance, and caretaking.

Your night was long, and mostly sleepless. You tossed and turned, finding minimal comfort in any position as the fluid in your ear trickled around and throbbed. Your ‘uninjured ear’, although without medical attention, felt awful too. Constantly ringing, itching, and showing obvious signs that it was dangerously close to rupturing too.

By morning, Josh packed your bags and sorted everything out with the rental car, insisting you sat idle on the bed until he was done. Your frustration grew throughout the morning as you found yourself unable to hear him as he spoke to you, careful to keep a low volume to protect your hearing. Nevertheless, you pushed your annoyance aside, and let Josh hold you close as he led you out of the hotel and into the rental car. 

The nausea had mostly subsided, but the dizziness and disorientation remained, as well as the aching pain, but you tried your best to ignore it as Josh pulled out of the hotel parking lot and began the treacherous drive south. 

“Croissant?” Josh offered, handing you the wrapped pastry from across the centre console. You muttered a small thanks as you took the pastry from his hand. Though, when you peeled back the paper wrapping and exposed the tip of the croissant, taking a well deserved bite, a shot of pain spiralled through your jaw to your ear. 

"You alright, Honey?” Josh asked immediately, squeezing your thigh at the sound of your wince. 

“Yeah just… hurts to open my mouth,” you frowned, tearing a small piece of croissant off the pastry and shoving it between your lips, only parted slightly now. You grimaced when even the simple act of chewing hurt, and forced yourself to swallow the half-chewed piece of pastry.

Josh frowned, stealing a quick glance at you before turning his attention back to the road. “You don’t have to eat right now, Baby. I can stop later and get you something softer. Maybe soup or, I don’t know, mashed potatoes or something.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Gas station mashed potatoes for breakfast? Sounds gourmet.”

“Hey,” Josh shot back playfully, “I’m just looking out for you. I’d puree the damn croissant if I could.” He reached over again, rubbing his thumb gently over your knee. “We’ll figure it out. You just focus on taking it easy, okay?”

You nodded, letting the croissant sit forgotten in your lap as you leaned your head against the window, staring out at the passing scenery. The world outside blurred as the car rumbled along, each dip and bump in the road reverberating through you, tugging at the ache in your head. You breathed in slowly, willing yourself to stay calm and ignore the discomfort.

But the silence— or rather, the muffled quietness— felt oppressive. Even with Josh humming softly under his breath, you couldn’t escape the incessant, high-pitched ringing in both ears. It was relentless, like a mosquito that wouldn’t stop buzzing near your head. You shifted uncomfortably, rubbing at your temples.

“You okay?” Josh asked softly, sensing your restlessness.

“Yeah,” you murmured, though it wasn’t convincing. “It’s just… I can’t get used to the quiet.” You paused, searching for the right words. “I mean, it’s not quiet for me. It’s loud. I can’t—” You stopped, frustrated by how hard it was to explain.

Josh’s brows furrowed as he glanced at you again. “The ringing?”

You nodded miserably, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to block it out. “It’s so loud, Josh. It’s driving me crazy.”

His hand found yours on your lap, warm and grounding. He squeezed gently. “I know, Baby. I can’t imagine how frustrating that must be.” He paused for a moment, as if considering something. “You know what Jake always told me when I burst my eardrum a couple years ago and had tinnitus?”

You cracked an eye open, tilting your head just enough to look at him. “What?”

“He got me to focus on something else. Anything else. The more attention you give the noise, the worse it feels. It’s like staring at a bright light– it burns into your vision.”

You frowned, skeptical. “That sounds… too easy.”

Josh grinned, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe, but it always helped me. Here—” He turned the music on low, just a gentle hum of sound in the background. “Focus on this. Or count the trees we pass, or… hell, count how many times I say something annoying today.”

You laughed weakly, which only earned you a small wince. “It’s not hard to lose count with that one.”

Josh smirked, clearly pleased to see even a faint bit of humor from you. “See? You’re already distracted.”

It didn’t fix the ringing, not really, but it gave you something to latch onto besides the noise and discomfort. The ache in your head ebbed slightly as you focused on Josh’s soft singing over the radio, his voice smooth and steady, even at a whisper.

The hours crawled by, but Josh made sure you were as comfortable as possible. When you stopped for lunch, he insisted on finding a decent place that served soup, running inside himself to grab a warm takeaway container of something creamy and smooth while you waited in the car. He returned triumphantly with a container of tomato soup and a bottle of water, setting them carefully in your lap.

“Nothing but the best for my girl,” he said proudly, settling back behind the wheel.

You smiled faintly, wrapping your hands around the warm container as if it might soothe you. “I feel spoiled.”

“That’s the goal,” Josh replied, leaning over to press a kiss to your temple. “Now eat up. Or... drink up, I guess? I need you feeling better so you can start bossing me around again.”

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

The drive continued, the sunlight growing softer as the day stretched on. By the time you checked into the hotel halfway home, you were exhausted, the ache in your head sapping the last of your energy. Josh carried your bags inside, refusing to let you lift a finger as you trudged to the room.

As soon as you were in bed, propped up by pillows, Josh settled beside you with a sigh of his own. He reached for the remote, flipping idly through channels until he found some old sitcom playing softly in the background.

“Better?” he asked, nudging your shoulder gently.

You nodded, already feeling your eyelids grow heavy. “Better,” you murmured, letting your head rest against his shoulder.

Josh wrapped an arm around you, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your arm. “Good. Get some sleep, Baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

The ringing persisted, faint and constant, but somehow, with Josh’s steady presence beside you, it didn’t seem quite so unbearable.

And as you drifted off, the last thing you felt was his hand brushing through your hair, his voice a quiet promise against your forehead: “We’ll get you home soon, I promise.”

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

By the time you pulled into the driveway of your home back in Nashville the next day, you were utterly drained. Josh parked the car and quickly came around to your side, gently helping you out and steadying you as you shuffled toward the front door. Your equilibrium was completely out of whack, the disorienting swirl of dizziness making every step feel uncertain.

As you crossed the threshold, Josh guided you to the couch, his hand firm but careful on your lower back. “Easy, Baby,” he murmured, helping you lower yourself onto the cushions. You leaned back with a groan, closing your eyes to block out the spinning world.

“I’m gonna make you some tea, alright?” he said, brushing his knuckles against your cheek before disappearing into the kitchen. You heard the clatter of mugs and the low whistle of the kettle, the muted sounds only reminding you of your muffled hearing.

Josh returned a few minutes later with a steaming cup of tea and a warm smile. “Here,” he said, kneeling beside you and holding the cup carefully as you took a slow sip. “Good?”

You nodded, managing a faint smile. “Thanks.”

“Have you had your meds yet?” he asked, setting the tea on the coffee table.

“Not since this morning,” you admitted. Josh frowned and immediately got up, grabbing your pain relief and a glass of water from the kitchen. 

“I’ll go to the chemist first thing tomorrow to pick up the prescription painkillers.”

After making sure you’d taken the low level pain relief you had access to, he joined you on the couch, pulling a blanket over both of you. He settled in, gently moving you to rest your head on his chest. “Wanna pick something to watch or are you gonna try and catch some sleep?” he asked softly, scrolling through the options on the TV with one hand and stroking your head with his other.

You hummed, only hearing the last leg of his sentence, before closing your eyes, letting his warmth and the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing soothe you until you drifted off.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

The next couple of days were a blur of rest and quiet, but the pain only seemed to get worse. By the third day, it was unbearable— sharp, throbbing, and radiating down to your jaw and neck. Each time you swallowed or yawned, a pop of air shot into your ruptured eardrum. It had you clenching your teeth against the feeling and only making the pain worse, aggravating your mood alongside. You could barely move without wincing, and after a bit of convincing, you finally allowed Josh to drive you to the doctor.

The diagnosis wasn’t what you wanted to hear: your ear had become infected.

You sat on the exam table, your arms crossed and frustration written all over your face. Josh stood beside you, his hand resting protectively on your knee. “Shit,” he muttered, his brow creased with worry.

You huffed, trying to tamp down your irritation. “This sucks.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Josh said softly, giving your knee a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll get the antibiotics, and you’ll feel better soon. I’ve been through this before, remember? It sucks, but you’ll get through it.”

You sighed, nodding reluctantly as the doctor handed Josh the prescription and went over the treatment plan.

Back home, Josh wasted no time getting you settled into bed. He handed you your first dose of antibiotics along with some water, watching closely as you swallowed the pills. “How’s your jaw?” he asked, his voice gentle.

You mumbled a faint response, too sore to form proper words. Even the effort of speaking made your jaw ache, and Josh’s concern deepened as he tucked the blanket around you.

“Alright,” he said softly, brushing a kiss against your temple. “Just rest, Baby. I’ll take care of everything.”

You drifted off almost immediately, the exhaustion and pain pulling you under. Josh stayed by your side for a while, watching you sleep with a worried expression before quietly retreating to the kitchen to make dinner.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

You woke up around seven in the evening, the smell of something delicious wafting through the room. Josh appeared in the doorway with a bright smile, carrying a bowl of soup. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he said, setting the bowl on the nightstand. “I made your favorite— tomato soup with the little pasta pieces you like. Thought it’d be easy on your jaw.”

You smiled weakly, sitting up with his help as he placed the bowl in your hands. The soup was warm and flavourful, the broth soothing as you sipped it carefully. But by the time you reached the pasta pieces, the effort of chewing sent sharp pain shooting through your jaw.

You set the spoon down, your shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, guilt creeping into your voice. “It just hurts too much to eat.”

Josh’s face softened, and he shook his head immediately. “No, no, don’t apologize. It’s okay, sweetheart. I just want you to feel better.” You gave him a faint, grateful smile before leaning back against the pillows. He kissed your forehead, his thumb brushing gently over your hand. “Try to get some more rest, alright? I’ll clean up and be right back.”

You reached a hand out to him and whined at this, and he stopped his movements to look at you worriedly. 

“What’s wrong, Beautiful?” he asked, tucking away some hair from your forehead. 

“Can you come and lay with me?” you asked, your voice so soft and broken he thought he would melt. 

“Oh, Honey, of course,” he cooed, crawling over the mattress and situating himself beside you, pulling your body to lay across his. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, and wrapped your arms around him weakly, reaching for any form of connection. Josh soothed you with a flat palm on your back, stroking up and down carefully. 

“I hate this,” you admitted, voice muffled between the pillows and his body, cringing as you felt the sting of tears arrive. “I mean– I haven't even been able to cry about it, cause it just hurts too bad. I hate laying here all day just doing nothing. I hate it so much.”

Josh pulled your body closer, tightening his hold and kissing the top of your head before resting his cheek against it. “My poor girl. Sweet, sweet girl. You don't deserve this. I’m so sorry, my love. Is there anything else I can do?”

You shook your head, breathing in his natural fragrance and sighed, “Just hold me, please.”

You sounded so pained, so lost, and Josh couldn’t help but shrug you a little closer, “Of course, my love. You just need some tender love, I’ve got you.”

Josh continued to stroke your back, whispering soft words of endearment and comfort until you went limp in his arms. He sighed, ridden with distress at the state of you, weak and in pain. He dug through his memories in search for home remedies that helped him the most, but found that at that time in his life, the memories were foggy, clouded by some feverish haze. 

Lifting his hips slightly so as not to wake you, he fished in his back pocket for his phone, and pulled up Jake's contact, typing out a message, ‘I need your advice.’

Jake responded effectively immediately, and Josh slid out from beneath you, careful not to move you too much, and placed a pillow beneath you for you to hold in his absence. Jake's caller ID showed up the second Josh left the bedroom. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Jake asked casually. 

Josh wandered into the kitchen and began preparing himself some food for dinner, “What did you guys do to help me when I fucked up my ear? I can't remember,” he asked, diving straight to the point. 

Jake pondered silently across the line for a few beats, “Uhhh. Well you slept a lot, and we made sure to roll you onto your good side if we ever saw you sleeping on your ear,” he started. “Warm foods, like soups and stews and stuff. You never liked smoothies ‘cause I think the cold made your jaw ache more.”

Josh sighed– these were all things he already knew, and although they were helping you, they just weren't enough. “Is there anything else?” he prodded.

“Look Josh, healing takes time. She’s not gonna get better overnight. You have to give it time and be patient with her.”

Josh sighed. That was not what he wanted to hear. 

“Actually, something else that helped you,” Jake started, and Josh straightened, listening intently. “Danny did some research when our shows were cancelled, and apparently a warm compress with a soft massage on your neck and jaw and stuff really helped ease the pain. You loved it– knocked you out everytime you were up with pain.”

“That’s perfect, thank you.”

“But Josh, I’m serious when I say you gotta be patient. I mean, maybe she’s better at handling it than you, but you were pretty snappy sometimes. Don't take it personally if she gets frustrated with you, just… let her be upset.”

Josh nodded with a sigh, “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind, thanks Jake. And thanks for dealing with me when I was being a dick.”

Jake laughed, “No problem, keep me updated.”

“Will do, love you.”

“Love you too, bye.”

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

The next morning, Josh woke up with you still curled up beside him, your face scrunched in a frown even in sleep. His heart twisted at the sight, wishing he could shoulder your pain instead. He lay there for a moment, gently brushing his fingers over your arm before you stirred awake, blinking slowly as if even that small action was an effort.

“Good morning, baby,” he said softly. “How’re you feeling?”

You let out a small, hoarse sound that wasn’t quite a word, shifting slightly under the blankets.

He sat up, concern etched on his face. “Would you like me to make you some breakfast? Your meds are due in a couple of hours, and I don’t want you taking them on an empty stomach.”

You murmured, “Mmm, not hungry,” your voice faint and muffled.

Josh sighed, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “I know it hurts to eat,” he said carefully, “But I can make some porridge or oatmeal, so you won’t have to chew.”

Your eyes welled up at his kindness, the frustration of the past few days bubbling to the surface. You nodded slightly but winced at the movement, and Josh winced right along with you, his expression pained as though he could feel it himself.

“‘Kay,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ll be right back.”

Josh returned a few minutes later with a small bowl of oats, the hot bowl carefully balanced in his hand. But when he saw your tear-streaked face, his heart broke all over again. Your eyes were red and puffy, and you sniffled quietly, trying to compose yourself.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he set the bowl down and sat beside you. He gently wiped away your tears with the pads of his thumbs, his touch impossibly tender. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, settling beside you on the bed. He watched you for a moment, so sad and defeated, and he knew only one thing could make you feel better in this moment. “Is it the cooking? Be honest,” he teased. "I mean, I never prided myself on being a great cook, but surely it's not bad enough to make you cry?"

A watery giggle escaped your lips despite yourself, and he grinned, clearly pleased with the small victory. “There it is. That’s what I needed to see. Don’t let this thing win, okay? You’ve got way too much fight in you for that.”

He reached over, wiping your tears with his thumbs before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “You’ve survived worse things. Remember when you sat through that whole documentary on the making of The Godfather? Yeah, this infection has nothing on that.”

You laughed softly, the sound barely there but enough to make his grin widen. “There’s my girl,” he murmured. “Now, let’s get you fed so we can put this mean old infection in its place.”

You nodded faintly, and he helped you take a few spoonfuls of the porridge. It wasn’t much, but it was enough, and soon after, he helped you take your medication.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

About an hour later, you stirred from a restless nap, your body tense with discomfort. “Josh?” you called softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He was by your side in an instant. “What do you need, baby?”

You hesitated, embarrassed. “I… I need to pee.”

“Okay,” he said gently, sliding an arm under your shoulders to help you sit up. “Let’s get you to the bathroom.”

You swayed as he guided you to the bathroom, his arm steady around your waist. By the time you reached the toilet, you were too exhausted and in too much pain to care as he helped you sit down, his movements respectful and careful.

“Take your time,” he said softly, stepping back into the bedroom to give you as much privacy as he could while still being there to support you.

When you were done, he helped you back to bed, tucking you in with a concerned smile. “Want to watch a movie?” he offered, his voice light but tentative.

You let out a faint hum of agreement, snuggling close to him as he pulled you into his side. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart were comforting, though he couldn’t ignore how quiet and weak you seemed.

It broke him to see you like this, so far from your usual self, but he stayed strong for you, scrolling through options before settling on Gilmore Girls.

A few minutes in, you tilted your head toward him. “Can you turn it up? I can’t hear it.”

Josh reached for the remote and turned up the volume a couple of notches. “How’s that?”

“More, please?” you mumbled, frowning.

He paused, looking down at you with a worried expression as he gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. “It’s already pretty loud, baby,” he said softly. “The doctor said to keep things quiet until the infection’s gone at least, remember?”

You huffed, your frustration clear as you turned your face away slightly. “Fine,” you muttered, saying nothing more.

Josh pressed his lips into a thin line, still watching you. After a moment, he offered gently, “How about I turn on the subtitles?”

You blinked up at him, your hearing so muddled that you asked, “Turn on what?”

“Subtitles,” he repeated patiently.

“Oh. Okay, yeah,” you said, your voice tinged with exhaustion. He turned them on, and though it helped a bit, you were still annoyed by how much effort it took to follow the show.

Midway through the episode, you dozed off again, your body giving in to the fatigue. Josh watched you for a moment, his heart heavy with worry and love. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he whispered, “Sleep well, my love.”

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

The next morning, Josh woke to find you already awake, sitting cross legged at the head of the bed with your shoulders hunched, your fingers pressed against your jaw. He frowned as he sat up, hair sticking out in messy tufts.

“Baby,” he mumbled, voice raspy with sleep. “What are you doing up so early? It's barely light out.”

You glanced over at him, eyes heavy with exhaustion. “It hurts,” you whispered. “And it’s so itchy, Josh. I can’t stand it.”

Your hand drifted toward your ear, but before you could touch it, Josh was already moving. Gently but firmly, he caught your wrist and pulled it away.

“Hey, no,” he said, his voice a mixture of concern and gentle authority. “You’re not supposed to scratch or touch it, remember? Doctor’s orders.”

“It’s itchy,” you whined, a tear slipping down your cheek. “And it hurts so much.”

“I know,” he soothed, letting go of your wrist to brush the tear away with his thumb. “But the itching means it’s healing. I promise, baby, you’ve just gotta let it be.”

You sighed heavily, your hand falling limply into your lap as you fought the urge to argue. “Fine,” you muttered, clearly irritated but resigned. “Can I at least have some painkillers or something? My head is pounding.”

Josh nodded immediately. “Of course, my love. I’ll get them for you.”

He slipped out of bed and headed to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a glass of water, two pills, and a peeled mandarin.

“Here,” he said, setting everything down on the nightstand. “But you need to eat this first,” he instructed, holding the mandarin out to you. You frowned at him but took one slice of the mandarin anyway, biting down gingerly. Almost immediately, you winced and set it back on the plate.

“I can’t, it hurts too much” you said, frustrated and reaching for the pills, “I’ll just take them.”

He shook his head gently, moving the pills from your reach and causing your frown to deepen. “Not on an empty stomach,” he said patiently. You rolled your eyes. “You know that. It’ll make you feel worse."

"I don't care, Josh, just let me take them," you insisted, rather angrily, leaning to grab them, only for Josh to pull them further from your reach, knowing you would be too dizzy to move and get them yourself. Frustration boiled and bubbled in your chest.

"How about I grab you some soup to eat instead?” he suggested.

“I don’t want soup!” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. “All I’ve had for the past week is soup, and I’m sick of it! Just…” you trailed off, struggling to find the words that explained your frustration. You hated this, but you hated being mean to Josh even more.

Josh froze for a moment, startled by the outburst. Then, instead of reacting defensively, he exhaled slowly and sat back on the bed, his expression softening.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice calm and measured. “I get it. You’re tired, and you’re hurting. Let’s try something different.”

You looked down at your hands guiltily. “I’m sorry, that was mean. You’re only trying to help, I just–”

“It’s okay, Sweetheart. I get it,” he said softly, stopping you from dwelling.

“Hey,” he said, reaching out to touch your arm gently. “Why don’t we take a minute to ease the pain first, hmm? Jake told me a warm compress should help, and then we’ll figure out something for food. Yeah?”

You didn’t answer, but you didn’t stop him as he left the room. When he returned, he had a heat pack in one hand and a reassuring smile on his face.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he said, climbing onto the bed beside you. “Let’s get you comfy. Lay down on your tummy for me.”

Reluctantly, you shifted to lie on your front, your head resting just beside his thigh against the mattress with your bad ear facing up, just as the doctors had advised you. He gently tugged at the collar of your shirt, pulling it aside to expose your neck and shoulder.

“This might feel a little warm at first, tell me if it’s too hot” he warned as he pressed the compress against your jaw. The soothing heat spread immediately, coaxing a small sigh of relief from you.

“Good?” he asked softly, his fingers beginning to work along your jawline.

“Mhm,” you mumbled, the tension in your body starting to ease as your eyes fluttered shut against the sensation.

Keeping the compress balanced over your jaw, he pressed his thumbs, warmed by the heat pack, over the taught muscles of your neck. They moved in slow, deliberate strokes, kneading the muscles that had been tight with pain. He worked up your neck, towards the base of your skull, his touch firm but gentle, careful not to press too hard.

He smiled as you sunk into the mattress with a groan. “There we go,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting. “That’s my girl. Just relax for me.”

You whimpered softly in relief as his fingers found a particularly tight spot near the base of your neck. He chuckled lightly, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.

“Sounding like you’re enjoying this a little too much,” he teased, a playful smile on his lips.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against the side of his leg.

He laughed quietly, clearly relieved to see even a flicker of your usual self as his fingers moved to your shoulder. He worked on the knots there, his hands strong but tender as he massaged away the tension.

“I’m just saying,” he continued, his thumbs working magic along your shoulder blade, “if I ever quit the band, maybe I’ll open a massage studio. What do you think? ‘Josh’s Soothing Touch’— catchy, right?”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “You’d need a better name. Sounds like a brothel.”

He gasped dramatically. “Wow. Critique from my number one client already? Tough crowd.”

You smiled faintly, the combination of his warmth, humour, and touch making the pain feel a little less overwhelming. After a minute, he replaced the heat pack from your jaw to your neck, reaching round to grasp your face softly with his hand, the pad of his thumb gently kneading into the muscle of your jaw.

He massaged you there for a little while, before moving the heat pack back to your jaw, and continuing massaging your neck instead.

“Thank you, my love. For taking care of me. I love you,” you whispered, your voice soft but sincere as you broke the comfortable silence.

“Anything for you, my sweet girl. I love you too, Beautiful,” he replied, pressing another kiss to your temple as his fingers continued their careful work. “Now, no more talking, just relax, okay?”

And as the loving magic of his touch pressed in against the overwhelming pain you had been fighting, you finally began to feel a little more like yourself again.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

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She's Mine [Part 3]

Qimir x (she/her)!reader

Summary: As Qimir’s newly sworn acolyte, you were supposed to be learning the ways of your master, far from prying eyes. But in a desperate attempt to escape the Jedi and Republic Space, you find yourself entangled in the dangerous mission of a mercenary crew. A hyperdrive malfunction forces the crew to land on a remote planet for repairs, leaving you stuck in the middle of a perilous scramble. With time running out and the mission to Canto Bight hanging in the balance, your loyalties—and your survival—are about to be tested like never before. Warnings: Angst, cursing, violence, trigger warning!sexual harassment, very protective Qimir Notes: This is a slow burn story between you and Qimir. I've been researching high republic history and I'm really excited for the next chapters!

*Im trying my best to use canon history but high republic era is a little difficult so there will be discrepancies and times where I have to improvise... bear with me!

She's Mine Masterlist

She's Mine [Intro] 

She's Mine [Part 1] 

She's Mine [Part 2] 

She's Mine [Part 2.2]

-----------------------------------------------------

To your surprise, the ship actually made it to the small green planet in one piece. The journey had taken far longer than usual without the hyperdrive, but you were just grateful that the systems needed to fly the damn thing were still online. Otherwise, you'd have been left drifting in space, dead stick and helpless.

All of this meant more time in republic space with an item that people would kill for.

Great.

Looking to distract yourself from the unsettling dream that had left an insatiable itch in the back of your brain, you'd jumped into the engine compartment. The walls were lined with a maze of conduits and cables, all neatly bundled but seemingly endless, carrying power and data to every part of the ship. Scanning the machinery around you, all the correct lights were on and flashing. You flipped a few switches, listening to the ship’s steady hum in response. Your eyes fell to the compensator gauge... right there. You loosened a few bolts and opened the compartment, removing a singed piece. Shit. It was fried.

"Its the inertial dampener." You yelled up. "We're lucky we weren't blown half way to hell."

It was true. You all were very lucky.

Ians eyebrows plucked up.

You continued. "If we don't replace this servo." You waved the piece in the air. "Then it'll be our last hyperspace jump ever."

"Whatsssss a ssservo?" Kiro inquired.

"A servomotor?...its a part of the stabilizer... the stabilizer controls temporal displacement."

Kiro only stared at you. Nothing occurring in those reptilian eyes.

"The stabilizer is built into the dampener and turns the time it would normally take us to travel from point A to point B into what seems like an instant to us."

Still more silence. Shaun and Kiro just looked at eachother.

"So, what exactly do you two do again?" You questioned.

Ian practically burst out laughing. Kiro and Shaun exchanged amused glances.

"Kiro here," Ian began, "is my muscle. He goes where I go. And well, Shaun keeps an eye from above."

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to process the words. "Right... So you two were what—knitting while I was getting my ass beat by a Twi'lek?"

Ian’s face turned a violent shade of purple, laughing even harder. He wiped tears from his eyes, finally catching his breath and returning to grabbing his small satchel. "Thanks to them, the other thugs were intercepted."

"Other thugs?" you mumbled, confused.

Ian nodded, still chuckling. "Rod noted the guy that walked up to you, and there were others. We took care of it. Well, minus the Twi'lek... she actually knew what she was doing."

"And you forgot to mention all this?" you asked, sarcasm thick in your voice.

"Hey, it didn’t seem pertinent at the time..., we’d all had one hell of a day."

"Right," you said dryly, giving him a hard look.

Ian just blinked and continued gathering his things. "So you know your way around a starship... luckily I know a guy who might have what we need just a few clicks from here. Kiro lets go."

"An inertial dampener isn't an easy fix."

"I know sweetheart... thats why were here."

"Where are you gonna find another servomotor."

You were met with silence and the opening of blast doors. Not paying you anymore mind, Ian treaded down, Kiro and Shaun trailing behind him.

You only sighed leaning against the circuits. Contemplating your next move. You had left your master errily sleeping on his cot. He was most likely still down and you would do anything to avoid any conversation... especially after that dream.

You hoisted yourself up and out of the engine compartment.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Ian eyes tracked you wandering behind them.

"You tagging along or something?"

You looked in the general direction of the ship. You almost expected Qimir to be there standing on the ramp. You could swear you sensed his presence or at least his shadow.

"I need some fresh air. And I don't trust you enough to not screw this up."

He shrugged. "The more the merrier I guess."

As you walked through the grassy horticultural fields of maker knows where, you swatted at the gnats buzzing near your face. The sky was darkening, and you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling of being too far from the ship. You eventually reached the edge of town, being far more urbanized than you expected.

"This way."

Ian led you to a small hut along the bustling main street, its exterior cluttered with old droids and rusted ship parts haphazardly strewn about. You could only hope that somewhere inside was the part you needed to fix the dampener.

A Quarren male stood behind the desk cluttered with tools and machine parts.

"Ian." He drawled through his beak like mouth.

"Heelim... my good friend."

"What trouble have you brought to my doorstep this time."

Ian only smiled in response.

----------

"An inertial dampener? Thats not an easy fix."

You gave Ian a look. He was obviously ignoring whatever I told you so face you were serving him.

"But if theres anyone who would have the part I know it'd be you."

"So. You just thought I'd have a servo lying around here?

"To be honest you were the closest option."

He chuckled in response.

"I am sorry my friend but I have no servos matching the one to your specific freighter."

Ian only bit his tongue and slapped Heelims arm in response.

"Thats quite alright. We'll figure it out my friend."

"Well if you need anything else feel free to look around."

Shaun had wandered outside already. Kiro tapped the machinery next to him with his claw, creating a sharp clang that rang through the store.

You toggled with some of merhandise around you, none of which could replace a servo.

"You work for Ian?" The Quarren questioned you.

"I owe him."

"Ahhhhhh... unfortunate."

You chuckled in response, looking around you realized you were the only one left in the store as Ian turned his heal.

"Thank you for your help."

The Quarren nodded his head.

-------

You found the three of them standing in a circle, deep in debate over your dwindling options.

Stepping up, you interjected, “So, he doesn’t have one. Maybe someone else does.” You tried to keep your tone hopeful, though you knew the answer.

“There aren’t any other sssellers who’ll have what he doesssn't," Kiro replied, his voice a cold hiss. "Heelim is the bessst.”

Ian shrugged, eyes on the ground but clearly working something out in his head. “Who said anything about buying one?”

You cut in quickly, already guessing where Ian was headed. “I saw a blue A-23 freighter in the yard. If I remember right, it should have similar parts to your ship.”

Without waiting for a response, you rushed back inside the shop.

“Do you know the owner of that light blue A-23 freighter outside?” you asked the shopkeeper.

He gave you a suspicious look, eyes narrowing, knowing exactly why you seeked the information.

You sighed, frustration creeping in. “Please.”

For a long moment, he just stared at you. Ten long seconds. You seized on whatever flicker of empathy might have passed across his face.

Finally, he relented. “That ship belongs to Laro Kiggs. He frequents the bar down the street. You never heard this from me”

“Thank you,” you said quickly, turning to leave.

Before you could make it out the door, his voice stopped you. “Traveling with Ian makes unsuspecting people accustomed to looking over their shoulders... but I see that’s already second nature to you.”

His words caught you off guard, hitting closer to home than you expected.

“I’ve had to be," you admitted quietly.

He hummed thoughtfully. "Finding real safety, real solace, in this system or the next... it's a rare gift. But it exists. I was lucky enough to find it. Understand—it’s out there."

You smiled faintly, understanding what he was implying and stepped out into the street.

-------

You rushed back outside, catching them mid-conversation.

Kiro hissed, “Getting onto a freighter here is easssssy enough.”

“I found the owner,” you interrupted, catching their attention. “He should be at the bar tonight.”

Ian finally looked up. “Alright. Shaun, you and y/n will keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t leave the bar. Kiro and I will handle the ship. I’ll signal Rod to expect another half-hour delay.”

Shaun frowned. “Are you sure about this?”

“What other choice do we have?” Ian shot back. “The nearest planet’s days away without a working dampener, and our buyer’s going to be on Corinth wondering where his precious book is.”

------------

Ian and Kiro took a speeder to the parked ships on the outskirts of the town. Ian would board the ship while Kiro stood guard and hopefully return with the servomotor you needed. You and Shaun stationed yourself at the local tavern.

The bar had a certain allure to it, bathed in warm, low lighting and filled with the sound of glasses clinking and conversations blending into a constant buzz. Then again it wasn't any different than any other bar in the galaxy.

You leaned over the bar, trying to catch the bartender's attention.

“Heyyy, I scratched a really nice blue freighter yesterday—parked by the market. Any chance you know the owner? I feel awful about it.”

The bartender didn’t even glance up. “Laro Kiggs. He’s right over there with his buddies. Black jacket.”

You followed his gaze and spotted him.

The bartender leaned in, giving you a knowing look. “If he hasn’t noticed yet, I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Thanks a ton,” you replied, voice sugary sweet, but entirely fake.

Walking back to Shaun, you whispered discreetly, “Black jacket, at your 12 o’clock.”

Shaun nodded.

It had only been three minutes since Ian entered the ship when his voice crackled through your coms.

It’s locked.

“What?” You struggled to keep a straight face.

It’s fucking locked. The compartment’s locked.

“Shit.”

Yeah. Shit, Ian echoed, static in the background. Who the hell locks their hyperdrive compartment?

“Maybe someone who doesn’t want their shit stolen by criminals?” you shot back, trying to think fast.

The window was closing, and you had to act quickly.

“Okay… Plan B. Ian, stand by.”

You noticed Shaun standing up, heading directly toward Laro. Instinct kicked in, and you blocked his path with a hand.

“What are you doing?” you asked, eyes narrowing.

“We need that key,” he said.

“And what? You’re just going to knock him out in the middle of the bar? Start a fight and get a mob chasing Ian and Kiro?”

He stared at you, unamused. “Got a better idea?”

“Actually, yes. Grab a speeder and stand by for the key.”

He shot you an incredulous look but headed for the door without another word.

What? Ian’s voice stammered in confusion through the coms.

You closed the channel.

You chugged your drink, steeling yourself as you walked up to the man. Adjusting your blouse, you reminded yourself that you could do this.

With a confident tap on his shoulder, you leaned in. "I—oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were someone I was looking for."

He turned, eyes sweeping over you with a lingering gaze. "I can be."

You laughed, taking a few steps closer, playing into his interest. "Well, are you gonna buy me a drink?"

A sinister smile tugged at his lips. "Why, of course."

It didn’t take long to get him another drink deep, his inhibitions loosening with each gulp. You used the opportunity to subtly feel for any sign of the key you were after, disguising your search with drunken leans and falls against him. Your hand brushed something square in his left jacket pocket.

"You know," he whispered, leaning closer, "we could always move this to my ship for more privacy." His hand slid across your thigh, the gesture bold and invasive.

You forced a playful smile, letting your right hand toy with his hair while your left hand moved towards his torso. He was too focused on your touch to notice your fingers slipping into his jacket pocket. You felt the cold metal of the key and smoothly withdrew it.

Too easy.

But before you could pull away, his hand moved higher up your thigh, edging dangerously close to your belt.

He went on. "Its only a few clicks away... if we are indeed two ships just passing in the night."

Before you could react, someone snatched your glass from the table.

It was Qimir.

Without a word, he downed the rest of your drink in one gulp, his eyes fixed on you.

"Looks like your drink's run out," he said coolly. "Let's get you another."

The guy beside you grumbled, glaring at Qimir. "Hey buddy, we were talking."

Qimir's eyes flicked to him, full of indifference. "And now you're done talking." He slammed the glass on the table. His voice was low, but it was enough to silence the man.

Qimir pulled you away, leading you toward another section of the bar.

You yanked your arm free and made a beeline for the exit.

Shaun waited on a speeder outside. You shoved the key into his hand beckoning him to get to Ian as quickly as possible.

"Here. Get this to Ian. We'll meet you back at the ship."

Shaun only nodded and revved the speeder, disappearing into the night.

Qimir had caught up to you outside.

Turning to face him your mouth ran away from you.

"What the hell was that?" you snapped.

"You were obviously uncomfortable," Qimir replied, not bothering to look at you.

You crossed your arms, huffing. "I can handle myself."

"He's a creep."

"So are most of the men in there," you shot back, shrugging off the situation.

Here’s a refined version of your scene, enhancing the emotional intensity and flow:

“This is exactly what I said would happen,” Qimir stated, his tone clipped.

“And how’s that exactly?” you shot back.

“You getting yourself into something I have to pull you out of.”

Fury surged through you, and you slammed your fists down, your face flushing with rage. “Don’t make excuses. I never asked to be pulled out of anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Well, next time a guy grabs my ass and I need your help, I’ll be sure to let you know first, Master.”

Qimir’s jaw tightened, clearly taken aback by your words.

You yelled, “If you had pulled me away just seconds earlier, you would have messed everything up!” Your body surged forward, hands outstretched.

In a burst of anger, you shoved him.

You actually shoved him.

He took it, standing firm, still caught up in whatever wave of misplaced duty he felt. His patronizing gaze made you want to slap him.

Screw this, you thought.

Maybe it was the liquor, or maybe you just needed more of it.

You stomped back inside waving your hand at the bartender. "One flameout please."

Your eyes scanned the bar for Laro making sure he was staying put. There he was already looking you up and down from a distance. You rolled your eyes and turned back to the bar.

The bartender caught your signal for another drink sliding a small shot of red liquid down the bar towards you. You gulped it down, throwing a few credits on the table. You could only hope that Ian had grabbed the servo by now and had gotten the hell out of there. But before you could enjoy the moment of solitude, Kiggs approached again, his drunken friends laughing and egging him on from a distance.

"Let’s pick up where we left off," he slurred.

"Let’s not," you replied flatly.

"C’mon, not interested anymore, I’m a great dancing partner," he said, stepping closer, his breath a noxious mix of alcohol and something far worse.

He grabbed your waist, pulling you into him. His hands wandered, groping you in a way that made your skin crawl.

You shoved him hard... far harder than you had shoved Qimir earlier. The force of it sent him stumbling backward a few feet. But it only seemed to make him angrier. He straightened up, his eyes narrowing as he started to march toward you again.

Good.

You could use a fight to blow off some steam. You readied your hands to connect with his jaw, eager to pop a crack at this entitled prick.

Before you could react, Qimir appeared in front of you, faster than you’d ever seen him move. His arm shot out, his hand wrapping around the man’s throat with terrifying ease. The man gasped, his hands clawing at Qimir’s grip, but he was choking on more than just the pressure of Qimir’s hand—there was something more. The air seemed to be ripped from his lungs, as though Qimir was suffocating him without effort. Laro’s friends were all drunk, but not quite enough to miss the warning signs. They kept a safe distance, clearly sensing that Qimir wasn’t the type to be messed with.

Qimir leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper, but you were close enough to hear. "You touch her again and I'll kill you."

He released the man, who dropped to the floor in a heap, gasping for breath. Qimir didn’t spare him another glance, turning to face you, his eyes unreadable.

You stared at him, still catching your breath from the sudden surge of adrenaline.

"Unbelievable." You stormed past him exiting the bar speaking into your coms. "Ian you might wanna put a rush on that servo."

The bar around you seemed distant now, the noise fading into the background as you focused on the path ahead. The liquor warmed your skin making the cold air unnoticeable.

For a moment, you wanted to argue—wanted to tell him you didn’t need his protection. But the way he had reacted, the intensity in his eyes, told you something different. Something deeper.

You had made it back to the ship.

You walked into your room. He followed.

You paced around until you stopped to look at him.

He was... withholding himself.

"I need you to give me a reason" He said softly.

"What?"

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go back there and put a hole through his skull."

You closed the distance between you, your face inches from his. "Because if anyone has the right to, it’s me... yet here I am." you almost spat the words at him.

His eyebrows, once furrowed in anger, relaxed slightly, seemingly satisfied with your reason. But tension still radiated from him, his eyes blinking rapidly, betraying whatever calm facade he wished to portray.

The intensity of his gaze almost made you falter, but you gathered your resolve, summoning the courage to ask the question that had been lingering in your mind.

“Why did you do that?” you demanded, frustration bubbling to the surface.

“What?” he replied, feigning ignorance.

“Back at the bar. Why did you do that?”

“What are you talking about, y/n?”

You scoffed, disbelief washing over you. You were damned if you’d ever get a straight answer from him.

“Forget it... you should have just stayed at the ship.”

“That guy was harassing you,” he insisted.

“That doesn’t give you the right to threaten people.”

“I have a responsibility to you. You are my acolyte.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make me yours,” you emphasized, each syllable sharp.

He went still, as if the weight of your words hit him. But the understanding in his eyes vanished as quickly as it had come.

“You’re drunk,” he said, turning away to focus on the clutter around his cot.

“You would know,” you shot back, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “I guess we both do stupid shit when we’re drunk.”

He spun around, eyes narrowed.

“What is that supposed to mean?” His tone turned venomous, defensive.

“You know exactly what it means,” you bit back, refusing to back down.

Suddenly you heard the blast doors open and close.

"Time to go." Ian barely managed the words as he ran through the hallway passing your room.

You broke away from Qimirs space. Rushing after Ian.

"So I'm guessing Laro made it back to his ship."

"Yep." Was all that Ian revealed.

You caught up to him snatching the servo out of his hand.

"Get to the cockpit. Get us in the air. Rod and I will handle the drive."

Ian didn't have time to argue.

You got to the engine compartment to find Rod already prepping.

Jumping down, you almost landed on your arse.

Damn those drinks.

The ship started humming and rattling as you guessed you were now in the upper atmosphere.

You took the piece and fitted it to the stabilizer grabbing the wrench to bolt everything back in place.

"That damned thing better work." Ian yelled.

You secured the servo and closed the dampener.

"Punch it." You spoke through the coms.

You felt your hair rise as the hyperdrive kicked then lit up. A small energy surge knocked you back. A loud vroom sounded in your ears as you slouched against the wall.

You took another deep breath, steadying yourself and closing your eyes.

You were in hyperspace... safe. At least for now.

-----------------------------

Thats all folks! Let me know in the comments what you guys think! The next few chapters are going to get intense :)

[cringywhitedragon]

Heads up folks, NicoNicoDouga is currently down due to a large scale cyberattack

The attack happened on the 8th and the site is still down in terms of video streaming. Apparently there were reports of Ransomware being used during the attack.

The site is still “down” but the blog part is back up but from the report, videos and content posted are ok so do not fret. The site is still down as of this post (save for the blog) and it seems they are working their hardest to fix it and do damage control.

Here is a rough translation of their most recent post:

Report and apology regarding cyberattack on our services

As announced in Niconico Info dated June 8th, 2024, Dwango Co., Ltd. (Headquarters: Chuo-ku, Tokyo; President and CEO: Takeshi Natsuno) has been unable to use the entire Niconico service operated by our company since the early morning of June 8th. It has been confirmed that this outage was caused by a large-scale cyberattack, including ransomware, and we are currently temporarily suspending use of the service and conducting an investigation and response to fully grasp the extent of the damage and restore it.

After confirming the cyberattack, we immediately took emergency measures such as shutting down the relevant servers, and have set up a task force to fully clarify the damage, determine the cause, and restore the system. We would like to report the findings of the investigation to date and future responses as follows.

We sincerely apologize to our users and related parties for the great inconvenience and concern caused.

Response history>

Around 3:30 a.m. on June 8, a malfunction occurred that prevented all of our web services, including our "Nico Nico" and "N Preparatory School" services, from working properly. After an investigation, it was confirmed that the malfunction was caused by a cyber attack, including ransomware, at around 8 a.m. on the same day. A task force was set up on the same day, and in order to prevent the damage from spreading, we immediately cut off communication between servers in the data center provided by our group companies and shut down the servers, temporarily suspending the provision of our web services. In addition, since it was discovered that the attack had also extended to our internal network, we suspended the use of some of our internal business systems and prohibited access to the internal network.

As of June 14, we are currently investigating the extent of the damage and formulating recovery procedures, aiming for a gradual recovery.

June 8, 2024

We have begun an investigation into the malfunction that prevented all of our "Nico Nico" services from working properly and the failure of some of our internal systems.

We have confirmed that the cause of the failure was encryption by ransomware. "Nico Nico" services in general and some internal business systems suspended and servers were shut down

A task force was established

First report "Regarding the situation in which Nico Nico services are unavailable" was announced

June 9, 2024

Contacted the police and consulted with external specialist agencies

Kabukiza office was closed

KADOKAWA announced "Regarding the occurrence of failures on multiple KADOKAWA Group websites"

June 10, 2024

Reported to the Personal Information Protection Commission (first report)

Second report "Regarding the situation in which Nico Nico services are unavailable" was announced

June 12, 2024

Reported the occurrence of the failure to the Kanto Regional Financial Bureau (Financial Services Agency)

June 14, 2024

This announcement

This cyber attack by a third party was repeated even after it was discovered, and even after a server in the private cloud was shut down remotely, the third party was observed to be remotely starting the server and spreading the infection. Therefore, the power cables and communication cables of the servers were physically disconnected and blocked. As a result, all servers installed in the data centers provided by the group companies became unusable. In addition, to prevent further spread of infection, our employees are prohibited from coming to the Kabukiza office in principle, and our internal network and internal business systems have also been shut down.

In addition to public cloud services, Niconico uses private cloud services built in data centers provided by KADOKAWA Group companies, to which our company belongs. One of these, a data center of a group company, was hit by a cyber attack, including ransomware, and a significant number of virtual machines were encrypted and became unavailable. As a result, the systems of all of our web services, including Niconico, were shut down.

This cyber attack by a third party was repeated even after it was discovered, and even after a server in the private cloud was shut down remotely, the third party was observed to be remotely starting the server and spreading the infection. Therefore, the power cables and communication cables of the servers were physically disconnected and blocked. As a result, all servers installed in the data centers provided by the group companies became unusable. In addition, to prevent further spread of infection, our employees are prohibited from coming to the Kabukiza office in principle, and our internal network and internal business systems have also been shut down.

The Niconico Video system, posted video data, and video distribution system were operated on the public cloud, so they were not affected. Niconico Live Broadcasting did not suffer any damage as the system itself was run on a public cloud, but the system that controls Niconico Live Broadcasting's video distribution is run on a private cloud of a group company, so it is possible that past time-shifted footage, etc. may not be available. We are also gradually checking the status of systems other than Niconico Douga and Niconico Live Broadcasting.

■ Services currently suspended

Niconico Family services such as Niconico Video, Niconico Live Broadcast, and Niconico Channel

Niconico account login on external services

Music monetization services

Dwango Ticket

Some functions of Dwango JP Store

N Preparatory School *Restored for students of N High School and S High School

Sending gifts for various projects

■ About Niconico-related programs

Until the end of July, official Niconico live broadcasts and channel live broadcasts using Niconico Live Broadcast and Niconico Channel will be suspended.

Considering that program production requires a preparation period and that Niconico Live Broadcast and Niconico Channel are monthly subscription services, we have decided to suspend live broadcasts on Niconico Live Broadcast until the end of July. Depending on the program, the broadcast may be postponed or broadcast on other services.

The date of resumption of Niconico services, including Niconico Live Broadcast and Niconico Channel, is currently undecided.

Niconico Channel Plus allows viewing of free content without logging in. Paid content viewing and commenting are not available.

■ About the new version "Nico Nico Douga (Re: Kari)" (read: nikoniko douga rikari)

While "Nico Nico" is suspended, as the first step, we will release a new version of "Nico Nico Douga (Re: Kari)" at 3:00 p.m. on June 14, 2024. Our development team voluntarily created this site in just three days, and it is a video community site with only basic functions such as video viewing and commenting, just like the early days of Niconico (2006). In consideration of the load on the service, only a selected portion of the videos posted on Niconico Video is available for viewing. The lineup is mainly popular videos from 2007, and you can watch them for free without an account.

■About the Niconico Manga app

We have already confirmed that many systems were not affected, and we are considering resuming the service with a reduced-function version that allows basic functions such as reading manga, commenting, and adding to favorites. We aim to restore the service by June 2024.

If any new facts become known in the future, we will report them on Niconico Info, Official X, our company website, etc. as they become available. We appreciate your understanding and cooperation.

Added 6/10]

Thank you for your continued patronage. This is the Niconico management team.

Due to the effects of a large-scale cyber attack, Niconico has been unavailable since the early morning of June 8th.

We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.

As of 6:00 p.m. on June 10th, we are working to rebuild the entire Niconico system without being affected by the cyber attack, in parallel with an investigation to grasp the full extent of the damage.

We have received many inquiries from you, such as "Will premium membership fees and paid channel membership fees be charged during the service suspension period?" and "What will happen to the time shift deadline for live broadcasts?". We are currently in the process of investigating the impact, so we cannot answer your questions, but we will respond sincerely, so please wait for further information.

Our executive officer Shigetaka Kurita and CTO Keiichi Suzuki are scheduled to explain the expected time until recovery and the information learned from the investigation up to that point this week.

We will inform you again about this as soon as we are ready.

■ Services currently suspended

Niconico Family Services such as Niconico Video, Niconico Live Broadcast, Niconico Channel, etc.

Niconico Account Login on External Services

[Added 2024/06/10 18:00]

Gifts for various projects (due to the suspension of related systems)

■ Programs scheduled to be canceled/postponed (as of June 10)

Programs from June 10 to June 16

■ Current situation

In parallel with the recovery work, we are investigating the route of the attack and the possibility of information leakage.

No credit card information has been leaked (Niconico does not store credit card information on its own servers).

The official program "Monthly Niconico Info" scheduled for June 11 at 20:00 will be broadcast on YouTube and X at a reduced scale. During this program, we will verbally explain the current situation in an easy-to-understand manner. (※There is no prospect of providing additional information, such as detailed recovery dates, during this program.)

"Monthly Niconico Info" can be viewed at the following URL. YouTube → https://www.youtube.com/@niconico_news X (formerly Twitter) → https://x.com/nico_nico_info

The latest information will be posted on Niconico Info and the official X (formerly Twitter).

We deeply apologize for the inconvenience caused to users and content providers who regularly enjoy our videos and live broadcasts. We ask for your understanding and cooperation until the issue is resolved.

Published on 6/8]

Thank you for your continued patronage. This is the Niconico management team.

Currently, Niconico is under a large-scale cyber attack, and in order to minimize the impact, we have temporarily suspended our services.

We are accelerating our investigation and taking measures, but we cannot begin recovery until we are confident that we have completely eliminated the effects of the cyber attack and our safety has been confirmed. We do not expect to be able to restore services at least this weekend.

We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.

We will inform you of the latest situation again on Monday (June 10, 2024).

■ Suspended services

Niconico family services such as Niconico Video, Niconico Live Broadcast, and Niconico Channel

Niconico account login on external services

■ Current situation

In parallel with the recovery work, we are investigating the route of the attack and the possibility of information leakage.

No credit card information has been confirmed to have been leaked (Niconico does not store credit card information on its own servers).

Future information will be announced on Niconico Info and Official X (formerly Twitter) as it becomes available.

We deeply apologize to all users who were looking forward to the video posts and live broadcasts scheduled for this weekend. We ask for your understanding and cooperation until the response is complete.

[moonsofmachinery]

Finally, a group photo of my Java Local Group! Nothing goes wrong and their senior definitely survives the fall.....

Closeups / details about my little guys below!

These are Bursting Energy Taught and Hidden Etching Lost Labels who both go hand-in-hand as little troublemakers. BET- Or Burst, is very into Music- As well as some other less legal things that he often goes to HELL for. HELL is very good at getting their hands on illegal, taboo-breaking stuff as they were specifically built to house intelligent processes and spyware (Thats not to say they ARE intelligent but!!! hey!! they can build a ton of silly mechanical slugs)

God... These two, Visceral Patterns Repeating and Defying Amicable Management. These two both have a history of being very unkind to their ancients who are very unkind to them. DAM is much more evident in this, he is outwardly aggressive and often branded as a threat- He has a malfunctioning eye that cannot be fixed because his ancients cannot get close to his puppet because He Will Maim Them. Visceral is much more soft and playful in her accidental harming of Ancients... He doesn't mean to cause harm. These two get to be connected via their strata which is so fun for them I'm sure that doesn't cause The Horrors. (They aren't connected like Pebbles and Moon, but cables run beneath their facilities connecting their strata)

Ohhh Never Melancholy Never Weary and Soft Tells Of Doubt- Melan and STOD! STOD is the Group SENIOR! Old... His collapse fuels the events that take place in their local group. Melan, meanwhile, is the main proponent of action within the group. Silly and whimsical, but turns very. very serious. When DAM's actions start affecting the LG- Including his sibling, Visceral.

[ranticore]

In the Mez setting. I know Leun's knight refuses to take apprentices. If he dies, what will happen? Would the church frantically train up a new recruit or some other solution? Also do the beasts react in any particular way if their knight dies, not out of sadness but like... if you suddenly pulled the power plug out of a computer. Do they just power down or can their files 'corrupt' and cause them to malfunction for lack of a better word lol

I can't really answer the first half here because that's what the story deals with but for the second half, it's easier to think of them like cars or construction equipment instead of 'mechs' in the usual sense. They are operated by a fairly rudimentary series of levers, pedals, and switches, it's supposed to be a very tactile operation with a fair amount of pushing and shoving behind it. Knights die in battle frequently and a holy beast can continue to operate for a limited time without a knight - the way the throne room/cockpit works is that the knight pulls a lever to order a specific function (let's say movement in x direction) but the lever does not directly result in the desired effect - instead, it sends a signal via pulleys and cables to the enginesmiths in the various control chambers and those smiths then manipulate the engines to make the legs move.

theoretically a holy beast can run just fine with no knight. but the knight's job is to coordinate and issue orders for all of these different functions because their dialogue allows them to feel what's happening throughout the beat's body. a knight will know that the cannons are ready to fire and then order it without the cannon team having to send a message to the throne room saying they can fire. the knight is pulling all the disparate smith teams together to get them working in sync. When a knight dies the main danger is this synchronicity becoming lost and the teams falling out of time, so that a movement or attack is made without the rest of the body being ready for it. In this way you can view the smith teams as muscles and organs while the knight is the brain. When the knight dies, their body is turfed out and immediately (hopefully seamlessly) replaced by a waiting apprentice.

If it's not seamless, an order to halt operations is given by the others in the throne room (there's a squire there who runs messages) so that an apprentice can be located. Oftentimes battles take long enough that a base camp is set up and staffed with relief teams, so an apprentice might have to come running over from base camp if nobody in the throne room survived whatever attack killed the knight

[pen-and-umbra]

Here’s a particular detail to wonder about. How does Sephiroth gain access to the Jenova chamber when he arrives at the Mako reactor after pillaging Nibelheim?

We don't see him using any keycards or entering any passwords. There are no mechanical locks or keys to speak of. We don't see him tampering with any remote terminals in the mansion or the reactor itself. There is no indication that he is using voice commands either. He simply says "Mother, I have come for you. Now, open the way for me", and it magically opens after he's dealt with Tifa.

Interestingly, there is an odd device attached in front of the Jenova tube that resembles the entity and appears to be linked to some type of circuitry. When Sephiroth plucks it away, we see tubes and cables rupturing and leaking liquid.

Based on the FFVII Remake, we know that Hojo had extensively experimented with Jenova cells, even imbuing machinery with them, as witnessed at the Drum. The evidence suggests that its organics can, in some cases, interact with various devices.

This raises the question whether Jenova's chamber was connected to the entire reactor complex, or at least the portion housing the test subject pods. If this is true, the phrase "Now, open the way for me" takes on a far more sinister meaning. Even more disturbingly, it raises yet another troubling possibility. Who's to say that if Jenova could tamper with the sealed door, it couldn't also tamper with the pod system? In other words, what if the creature was responsible for the entire alleged "reactor malfunction"?.. [some additional speculation on Jenova being “awake”]

Another potential conspiracy theory emerged immediately after the original game was released. What if Hojo orchestrated the Nibelheim mission? While there is no solid evidence that Hojo or his assistants recently visited the site (the townspeople would have likely noticed the visit or the helicopters heading towards reactor H-pad), Sephiroth goes out of his way to emphasize that the Nibelheim reactor is unique in that it is under Research & Development jurisdiction rather than Urban Development dept.

R&D most likely had a remote monitoring/control system for the chamber environment. Hojo, in particular, has expressed an interest in Palmer's testimony that Sephiroth was seen walking the halls of ShinRA headquarters, famously stating that he would like to see Sephiroth and Aerith produce an offspring.

Later in OG, Hojo was shown to be fascinated by his pet theory of Reunion being played out. As a result, it's not unreasonable to speculate that Hojo may have specifically arranged for Sephiroth to be dispatched to Nibelheim to observe Jenova specimens come into contact and its corollary. If there were security cameras in the Jenova chamber, Hojo might have been able to remotely unlock the door [upon seeing Sephiroth approach].

It is indeed a terrifying possibility that Hojo could be directly responsible for the Nibelheim tragedy. Before Crisis Core and Genesis, In OG, prior to Genesis stuff being introduced, it seemed suspicious to send two top SOLDIER members to a remote and dilapidated reactor to investigate reported monster sightings.

@pen-and-umbra