#Temperature Control Kit

[theodore005]

True E991224 Temperature Control Kit PartsFe CA

The True E991224 Temperature Control Kit for is a premium OEM replacement designed to enhance the performance of True refrigeration units. Engineered for precision, this kit seamlessly upgrades older mechanical controls to a modern electronic system, ensuring consistent temperature regulation for food safety and quality. Tailored specifically for True models, it includes a Sollatek control, dual probes, zip ties, P-clips, wires, connectors, and clear instructions for straightforward installation. Ideal for commercial kitchens or home beer enthusiasts, this kit eliminates temperature fluctuations, keeping contents at optimal levels without the hassle of outdated thermostats.

To keep your restaurant running smoothly, it's crucial to invest in  True Temperature Control Kit at  that ensure long-lasting performance.

[partsshnc]

The TRUE 844950 Temperature Control Kit is a quality OEM component that is intended to control and set the right temperature inside refrigeration equipment. This kit comes with a better quality thermostat sensor, and other parts required to avoid fluctuations in temperature that can affect the quality of food. This is simple to install and assist in increasing the durability of your refrigerator by increasing efficiency and energy conservation. Especially suitable for use in kitchens and commercial, this kit helps organizations maintain the necessary temperature for storing perishable products.

[partsfe]

True TRUE991224 Temperature Control Kit | PartsFe

The True TRUE991224 Temperature Control Kit is a replacement part designed to regulate the temperature in True refrigeration units. It ensures accurate and consistent temperature control, improving the performance and efficiency of the unit. This kit is easy to install and compatible with various True models, making it an ideal solution for maintaining optimal storage conditions in commercial environments.

[cosmal]

diced

content eddie munson x reader

summary you slice your hand cutting limes. the kitchen hand you fancy, patches you up.

note woah aerial is back! this is an old blurb that i decided to finish. it's not that big but i thought i'd get it out! can't wait to write some more stuff xx

You try not to create a mess, and you try not to cry, and you try not to pass out. How could such a tiny cut produce so much blood?

You push through the swinging door out the back and almost bump into Eddie. Holding your bloodied hand in the other, you squeeze hard enough to pinch the torn skin. You're too focused on keeping your blood to yourself, the extra pressure doesn't faze you.

You can feel Eddie behind you and hope he's not watching you as you fiddle with the taps. They're old and missing their red and blue markings. You mess with them until the temperature is right and try not to smear red everywhere.

“Shit,” you curse and feel the beginnings of hot tears prick at your waterline. “So stupid.”

“Baby,” Eddie’s familiar nickname for you comes in quick and breaks the ringing in your ears, “fuck, what happened?” He stands behind you and presses his shoulder into yours. He smells of grease and sauteed onion.

“I was,” you swallow. Your throat dry with an upset you can tell is way out of your control now. You really hate blood. “I was cutting limes and slipped.”

The water stings, but not as bad as the lime juice did. The first tear still falls down your cheek and you wipe it away with your shoulder.

“How deep?” He says, firmer than you’ve ever heard him. He walks off around the corner and you don’t want him to. He comes back with the first aid kit. “Can I see it?”

You nudge the tap closed and turn to face him. You can’t look at the cut lest you feel even more queasy than you do now. You sense your skin is a few shades lighter than normal.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie tuts. His sweet affections are always enough to make you feel better. However right now you think the deep slice in your finger is enough to distract you from the way he makes you feel. “C’mon, let’s go sit.”

You follow Eddie through to the corridor and try your best to not focus on the dull throbbing in your finger. You can feel blood trickling down into your palm, your other hand interlocked with Eddie’s, unable to wipe the hot mess of tears on your face.

He sits you on a milk crate, plopping down on another opposite you, and balances your diced hand on his knee. You worry for his new corduroys but there’s a line of tomato puree up the front of them that looks as though it’ll stain just as worse.

“Are you okay?” He wraps a clean bar towel around your hand and squeezes. Your hand feels like it’s on fire. You feel stupid. You've barely said a word but you’re okay with Eddie bossing you around a bit.

You swallow and blink, and worry your cheeks are marred with mascara. “Yeah,” you cough, and feel a little inept. “Thank you Eddie, I think I was on autopilot for a second there.”

“It’s okay,” he laughs. It’s a distracting sound. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I really hate blood.” You suck a sharp breath through your teeth and turn your head away while Eddie fixes you up.

You close your eyes and let Eddie take care of you. You wonder if you’d put up with another bloodied hand for him to touch you like this again. He apologises every time you wince, even though you’re being entirely dramatic, and wipes the left over tears and smudged mascara when he done patching you up.

He squeezes your knee when he’s done and kisses you over your bandage. “All done,” he chirps. “Good job.”

You laugh and kiss him on the cheek. “You’re too kind.”

“You gonna be okay to shake a martini with that bandaged hand?”

You giggle. “Martini’s are stirred, Ed’s.” His face drops. “No wonder you’re in the kitchen.”

“I’d like to see you cook a steak.”

[captain-huggy-bear]

congrats on 100 😘 may i request ““hey… hey… why are you crying?” with soft dom quinn hughes

Quinn is just soft dom all the time, just naturally effortlessly soft dom. 1000 Followers Celly Currently ongoing 🥳🎉 (please read the rules) Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

You're not sure what's wrong with you, you can't explain why you feel the way you do or why you've bundled yourself up into the blankets of the bed you share with Quinn. You're not sure why you're crying in the little cocoon that you've made, you can't pin point what has you so emotional, you don't even really feel sad. You just can't stop crying. It's like your overwhelmed, body just trying to let it all out one way or another.

It's how Quinn finds you after he gets home from practice for his mid-morning nap. You're curled in the covers, sobs causing them to shake from where you're hidden underneath. There's little hesitation before he's dropping his kit bag by the bedroom door and sitting next to the lump that is your form.

A hand falls onto your body over the duvet, smoothing over what Quinn thinks is your shoulder. You still briefly but the sobs start up again like you can't stop them, can't control them.

“Hey… hey… why are you crying, baby?” He tugs back the covers, peels them back until he can see your face, splotchy from crying, pillow wet underneath you. It's obvious you've been crying for a while.

"I d-don't k-k-know!"

Quinn shifts himself to lie down next to you, propped up by a pillow. Hands reaching for you and tugging you towards him. "Okay, okay...C'mere, sweet girl." You let him pull you across his body until your lying flat against him, face pressed into his chest as you cry, "Atta girl..."

There's no attempt to tell you to calm down, no attempt to tell you you're being silly or to just stop. Instead Quinn tucks you against him; one arm wrapping around your waist to rub circles into your lower back, while his other sinks into your hair.

Quinn's fingers scratch across your scalp and run through your hair, untangling each strand carefully. Each movement is purposefully slow, calming in a way that's hard to really explain. Like with each pass of his fingers across your lower back, each untangled strand, some of that weird feeling starts to ease in your chest.

You clutch at him like he's a lifeline, face pressed straight into his t-shirt, breathing him in even as your tears wet the fabric. "You're doing so well, baby...so brave, yeah?" There's no upset from Quinn about it, he doesn't care that his shirt is getting wet or that his nap isn't happening. He just wants you to be okay.

It's the basis of your relationship; he takes care of you. It's a purpose for him, a desire, he needs to meet your needs because it helps him feel fulfilled, because it makes him happy. So he doesn't mind holding you like this, doesn't mind being soft and quiet for you, however long it takes.

"'m sorry..." You're still crying, less aggressively, but it's still happening even as you try to apologise but Quinn just shushes you, stroking your hair as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"You're fine, baby, just let it out, yeah? 's all good."

So you do. You cry and cry and cry until it's impossible for you to cry anymore, until the tears have dried and while exhausted you feel better, feel more like yourself.

"Better?"

"Yeah, thirsty though..." Your throat feels dry as a desert, tongue catching on the roof of your mouth as you rub at your eyes and sit upright for the first time in a few hours.

"Wait here, I'll get you some water, baby." It's effortless and instinctual the way that Quinn tucks the duvet around you before going to get you a glass of water.

It's brought to you at your preferred temperature and he watches you like a hawk while you drink, making sure you're actually drinking and not just sipping.

"You hungry?" As you sip Quinn's fingers are brushing your hair down, neatening the strands and wiping at some of the last droplets of water across your chin. There's a gentleness in each movement, care like all he wants to do is make sure you're looked after.

"A little..." You admit, biting on your lip, not wanting to be a bother.

"Sweet? Savoury? Spicy?"

"Sweet..." God, you'd kill for a bunch of sugar right now. You know you shouldn't consume large amounts, not good for you and probably not the best idea when your blood sugar is all over the place but...you really want something sweet.

"Okay, once you've drunk the entire glass I'll order you something sweet to eat: cookies? waffles? crepes? cake?"

The way you bite your lip as you look at him tells him enough, you can't choose, never been good at it, not when sweet treats are involved. Always wanting a bite out of everything.

"All?" He smiles at you knowingly and you nod with a bashful smile because he knows you so well at this point that there's no point hiding from it or avoiding it.

"Maybe a little of everything..."

"Anything for my baby."

[strawberrykidneystone]

armn’t you glad to see me?

sevika x female reader

summary: you were NOT a mechanic, but sevika’s arm was broken and she didn’t trust anyone in the undercity to work on it so you decided to take it into your own hands

a/n: the title is so stupid i’m sorry😭😭😭 also yes it’s similar to my other fic but this time you’re in a previous relationship so 😋 (brat but different LMAO)

tags: porn with plot, slightly skewed canon timeline, canon violence mentioned, blood and injuries mentioned, kissing, tit play, pussy eating, sevika is a munch, a little bit of temperature play, fingering, cuddling

ao3 version

thank you @cewl-casper and anon for requesting!!!

when sevika came home looking more tired than ever with her arm clutched in her flesh hand, you knew you had to do something about it. with silco dead and the chembarons fighting for control of the lanes, she had no time to work on her arm and she never voiced it, but you knew felt she felt vulnerable without it. you threw yourself into research, reading through every book about mechanics that you could get your hands onto. hell, you even went to piltover to look at their selections, not without a few dirty looks of course. you had also bought a tool kit with everything you could possibly need, at least that’s what the girl who sold it to you said.

at this point in time, you’re pretty sure you’ve read every mechanical manual available in the undercity. you had even gone to a few mechanic shops to ask vague questions about certain parts of sevika’s arms and they were surprisingly helpful, very eager to talk shop with a passion behind their jobs. it was rare to see these days, but it was sweet to see. you made it a point to work on her arm during the day and covering it with a sheet before sevika got home, you wanted it to be a surprise for all the hard work that she's been doing lately.

after a few days of tinkering and applying your research, you were finally able to get the arm functioning again. you wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand and admired your work, especially proud of restoring the mechanism that attached to her shoulder.

just as you finished, the door to your house opened with a loud thud followed by a groan from your exhausted wife. she was under a lot of pressure to try and keep the lanes in check with silco gone and the cherry on top was having to still do his dirty work, including the deals she had to check on that went south quickly and forced her to fight with one arm. she won of course, but not without earning a few bruises and scratches in the process.

her face visibly softened as she saw you running up to her, slinking an arm around her torso to guide her to the bathroom. you sat her on the edge of the bathtub and got out your first aid kit, a comfortable silence falling over the two of you. setting the kit on the bathroom counter, you snapped on a pair of plastic gloves. reaching for your kit, you paused for a moment and turned to sevika. she cocked her head to the side curiously, immediately melting in your hands as you cupped her cheeks with the crinkly gloves. you pressed a soft caste kiss on her lips that she followed after, a soft whine leaving her lips as you pulled away. you shook your head teasingly and rummaged through the bag, laying out all the supplies you needed.

she flinched as you cleaned out her scratches with a few disposable alcohol wipes, quickly blowing on them to dry the wounds as fast as possible. thankfully, none of the cuts were deep enough that they needed stitches, but they all needed to be properly covered. applying ointment on her wounds and meticulously bandaging them so that they wouldn't peel off her movements, you placed a kiss on each freshly placed bandage. a small smile tugged on her lips as she watched, but there was still a pinch in her brows that you’ve come to know as a sign of irritation. whenever she came home in a mood like this, she tended to stay quiet as to not direct her anger from work at you, which you did appreciate, but you knew she needed to let it out somehow.

“c’mon, i wanna show you something,” you said softly, pulling her hand and practically dragging her to the living room.

thankfully, you knew 2 things that would cheer her up.

she walked into the living room with you and eyed the covered “surprise” on the coffee table, mumbling something about ‘not liking surprises’.

you let go of her hand and tore the sheet off of the arm, smiling brightly as you revealed the fixed limb, “tada!”

sevika’s eyebrows furrowed further as she looked from you to the arm with confusion. she stepped forward and inspected the arm, slowly realizing that the broken mechanics on it were fixed.

her arm was fixed.

she grabbed the arm with her flesh hand and locked it into place in her shoulder, flexing the arm around and wiggling her fingers to test the connectivity. satisfied with how her arm moved, she looked deep into you eyes and opened her mouth, closing it almost as fast. she was utterly speechless that someone would do this for her, that someone would care about her enough to fix something that was so dear to her. her heart swelled with so much love that she couldn’t express with words, so she opted for the next best thing. she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and buried her face into your neck, silently letting tears flow down her cheeks. you immediately reciprocated the hug and wrapped your arms around her neck, petting the back of her head as her shoulders shook with the occasional sob.

“i love you so goddamn much,” she managed to choke out, giving your torso an extra tight squeeze as if you’d fly away if she let go for even a second.

“love you too sev, can’t breathe,” you said in a strained voice and patted her back to let her know that she needed to loosen up.

she quickly pulled back and rested her hands on the curve your waist, looking you over with worry as if she wasn’t the one who came in with injuries scattered all over her skin. deeming that you were fine, she threw you over her flesh shoulder like a sack of potatoes, a squeal of surprise coming from you with a small ‘oof’. she basically sprinted to your shared room, a grin spreading over her lips as you giggled and clutched at her waist to not bounce around as she bounded down the hallway. you playfully landed a quick smack on her ass with a grin, "nice view down here sev!"

she grunted in response and released you onto the bed with you landing on your back with a soft thud, the old bed springs squeaking beneath your body. sevika stood at the edge of the bed and licked her lips, her eyes raking down your body so intensely you already felt like you were naked under her gaze. "I've got an even better view right here," she practically purred. crawling over you, she kneeled between your legs and peppered your face with feather-light kisses, your giggles disappeared into a gasp as her metal hand grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them above your head.

"god i've missed touching you with two hands," she groaned and mouthed at your neck as your back arched automatically in the new position, your breasts pressing firmly against hers. she sucked deep red marks into your soft skin, leaving deep bite marks that would definitely leave bruises tomorrow. letting go of your wrists, she hastily pushed your shirt up and over your head. a whine left your lips as she flicked your nipples with her fingers to perk up and ready for her mouth. she flattened her tongue against your left nipple and groped your right breast. sevika looked up into your eyes with so much lust you’d swear her pupils had turned into hearts as she palmed at your chest. she gave a harsh suck to the sensitive bud and scraped her teeth against the tip, a strangled moan leaving your lips as your back arched further to press your chest even deeper into her warm mouth. after giving some much-needed mouth attention at the opposite nub, she pulled back to admire your puffy nipples and your sloven state as your thighs threatened to close at any moment to get any sort of friction between your legs. sevika clicked her teeth and moved her leg up, pressing her knee directly up against your crotch. you groaned as the ache between your legs finally got attention. sevika kneaded your breasts in her big hands as she focused on grinding her knee into the clothed slit. resting her flesh hand by the sides of your head to give your chest a break, she tilted your chin up with a crook of her metallic hand. she chuckled at the messy state you were in, a whimper falling from your lips as her face leaned down so close to yours that you could feel her breath fanning over to her lips. “what is it pretty girl? what do you want?” she cooed with a grin, relishing in how your squirmed under her gaze with just a simple question.

“kiss me…” you said timidly, your eyes avoiding hers.

“look at me when you ask for what you want baby, you know better than that.” she mused and cupped your face in her cold metal hand.

you took a shaky breath and looked up into her eyes, her blown out pupils almost completely swallowing the beautiful grey of her irises, “please kiss me sev.”

“good girl,” she jested and immediately rewarded you, smashing her lips into yours so passionately that it stole the air out of your lungs. she nipped your bottom lip and plunged her tongue into your mouth with little warning, twisting and massaging her tongue against yours for so long that you were starting to feel light-headed. she pulled back and panted, the two of you watching as the saliva that connected your two mouths slowly weighed down and broke, snapping up against both of your chins. you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, watching sevika lick the combined spit off of her chin. she chuckled at your dazed start and ran her thumb across your chin, letting it slowly drag down your bottom lip and watching it spring back up.

“so pretty baby,” she cooed as she tapped your hip with her metal hand. you obediently lifting your hips as she practically ripped off your lower clothes. “mmm my girl has the prettiest pussy doesn’t she?” she grinned as she pushed your thighs up against your stomach, admiring your glistening cunt in the warm light of your room that reminded her of a sun setting over a body of water.

“vika please, need you,” you begged and squirmed as the cold air of the room stole the warmth from your neglected pussy. deciding to skip the teasing since she wanted to show you her appreciation for everything, she dived in mouth-first into your waiting cunt and started eating you out like a woman starved. her slurps were erotic with each wet suck and her tongue worked wonders as it swirled in precise patterns between your lips. she desperately lapped at your fattened clit, desperate to drink up as much of your juices as possible. you couldn’t help the loud moans that left your mouth that your neighbors would probably complain about later, but you knew how much sevika loved hearing how good she was making you feel. she hummed and stuck her tongue deep between your lips, hastily nodding her head up and down as you throbbed against her. you rocked your hips up as much as you could in her hold, locking your ankles directly behind her with the heels of your feet pressing into the back of her head.

"that's it, give it to me princess," she growled into your core, pushing her curved nose up into your clitoral hood and letting you rock up against her face. you whined as the hardened cartilage nudged against your nub, riding her face as much as you could with your limited frame.

with her new arm, she dug the freshly sharpened tips so deep into your thigh that it drew blood but your mind was so blank with pleasure that you hardly even noticed the pain. she slightly retracted her head and spit directly onto your clit, burying her lips under your clitoral hood with her flesh hand slowly sliding her ring finger into your waiting hole. you gasped as even her one finger comfortably filled you up, your mind going blank at the dual stimulation on your most sensitive areas. slowly starting to thrust her thick finger, she groaned against your slick heat as you clenched around her. once she deemed that you were ready, she stretched you out by adding in her middle finger that was easily sucked into your waiting walls. one of your hands white-knuckled the poor sheets below you as your legs started to tremble in her hold, the other reached down and tangled into her already tussled hair with the tips of your fingers brushing against her fuzzy undercut. your hips bucked up against her mouth as she sped her tempo fingers up and curled them inside of you. a cold shock ran through your body as she knuckled her metal fingers against your labia and circled up to your clit, a temperature shift that was enough to make your entire body shudder in her firm hold. you didn’t even have time to warn her before your orgasm came crashing over you, clenching her fingers so hard inside of you she thought that they were going to be squeezed out. she happily lapped up your release and placed a tender kiss on your clit, releasing your thighs to let them rest on the sides of her head. slowly slipping her fingers out of your warmth, she licked them clean with a satisfied hum, "fuck you always taste so good baby." you giggled and softly brushed the hair away from her forehead, admiring her pretty face, shyly whispering a small ‘thank you’.

sevika sweetly kissed the inside of your thigh and crawled up the bed to lay next to you, opening her arms with. a welcoming beckon. you smiled tiredly and tucked yourself into her side, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“so… you like your new-old arm?”

“pfft, ‘course i do, it was made by my girl,” she purred and turned to her side to face you, wrapping both arms around you as she tucked your head under her chin.

“since when have you been able to work on machinery? you barely knew a flathead screwdriver from your ass last time i checked.”

you groaned and weakly slapped her chest, “don’t ask, it took way longer than i thought it would.”

she affectionately shook her head and soothingly ran her hand over your back.

where would she be without you?

a/n: yk that scene in ted lasso where keely masterbates to roy giving his emotional goodbye speech? yeah that’s me

taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all @fandoms-will-be-the-death-of-me @sevikasfan @lez-zuha @comfortripley @sunflowerwinds

[paracosmic-murdock]

vigilante like me

chapter six: the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up

pairing: matt murdock x black widow!vigilante!reader

summary: nights and nights of playing the hero as if that could redeem you that easily ended up taking you to new york, where you accidentally met the man who would turn your world upside down. a vigilante like you.

warnings/tags: (this chapter contains smut, shower sex virginity loss, unprotected sex, minors dni) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, injuries, violence, phd in applied flirting and ma in yearning studies, some smut (minors dni), takes place sometime during the blip, when born again comes out we might find out if my decisions of who were gone were right, spoilers/references of stuff and themes from daredevil (2015); avengers: infinity war (2018); avengers: endgame (2019) black widow (2021); and hawkeye (2021), but y'all must've watched all of those already so idc, yelena belova and the themes and events from the black widow (2021) movie are very relevant in this plot, song: cowboy like me (taylor swift)

word count: 3.3K

✰ chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter seven | chapter eight | chapter nine

✰ mila's anthology (main masterlist)

He left the kit on his bed and went back to you, helping you stand up and walking you to his bathroom.

“May I?”

“You don't have to do that.”

Matt chuckled. “You did this for me once, and I was in kind of a better shape than you are now. Just… allow me.”

“Okay,” you agreed, knowing he was right and that you needed to be clean so he you could patch you up and avoid infections. You were too injured and bloody and couldn't risk it. “I liked these jeans.”

“Yeah, maybe they can be ripped jeans now,” he proposed, an optimistic grin plastered on his face.

“I've learned a thing or two about fashion trends, and let me tell you: apparently, ripped jeans are completely hideous today.”

“I guess you're a well-dressed lady.”

You laughed. “When it matters, yes I am.”

“Were you well dressed today?” he asked, taking off your black sports sneakers.

“Not really,” you replied. “Nothing important going on.”

“Hey,” he called you. “I am sorry about what I said last night.”

You gave him half a smile, putting your hand on his chest. “Are you?”

“I am sorry.”

“I'm sorry too,” you apologized, surprising yourself. “I just… I've learned who you are, and I know you aren't one to give up. You were there tonight, Matt. This is something that can happen countless times because I've done pretty fucked up things. Whether I was in control of my actions or not, I did it and I can't ignore that. I don't want my shit to affect you or for me to be… measured the same way that you are.”

“It's okay, I get it,” Matt helped you take off your oversized white, blood stained t-shirt. “We both have skeletons in our closets.”

You smiled weakly, now taking off your jeans with difficulty. “I guess so.”

Then, there was silence.

Matt guided you to his shower and turned it on. The water was hot, almost too hot, so, while you waited until the temperature was just right to get under the stream, he took his clothes off too. Now, you were both in your underwear and the idea of him and you like that made your cheeks go warm.

Just like you did to him the other day, Matt washed your hair with care. It was so intimate you wanted to throw up, and he seemed to realize how the moment was affecting you but said nothing.

“Govnyuk,” you muttered when his hands touched a wound above your right breast. “It hurt.”

“Sorry,” Matt whispered. “This one is pretty bad.”

“That makes me feel better.”

He shook his head, taking your right hand in his and put it on the left side of his chest. “I have the same one. Credits to a ninja named Nobu. It was really bad, I think it makes it to the top five of my worst moments.”

You traced the shape of it with the tip of your finger and did the same with a similar one on the other side.

Matt turned around. “He did those, too.”

“They're awful,” you noted. He laughed, turning to you again.

You took his left hand and drove it to your upper right thigh. “There was a tracker here to keep me on sight. When Yelena, my friend and another Black Widow, freed me, I stabbed myself to take it out.”

“Contrary to what you might think, I can't dodge every bullet,” he explained when he drove your hand to his right bicep.

“I was in Novi Grad when Yelena found me,” you said as you put his hand on your right lower back. “I had a partner, Emilia. Our job was to make sure the big guys never forgot they were under the rules of Dreykov, the director of the Red Room. Emilia died during the infamous Battle of Sokovia; a robot shot her to death and shot me here,” you continued, then made his thumb meet the little scar on the side of your index finger. “You know, Wanda Maximoff, the Avenger, had a twin brother, Pietro. Nobody knows him or what he did, but I do. He spent three seconds taking me to a safer location, then told me he was free on Saturday for a dinner date I now owed him for saving me,” You laughed a little. “Hours later, I found out he took dozens of bullets to save Clint Barton and a little boy. Don't tell him, but I teared up a little when I found out that the guy who used to flirt with me in the market twice a week was dead. I got this one when I was peeling a plum there because I got distracted telling him that he looked ridiculous with his hair bleached. He didn't.”

“I don't even remember how I got this one,” He chuckled, showing you one on his left side. “Just another beating one night.”

“Knife training in the Red Room,” you said, showing him various scars on your abdomen, thighs, and back. “We gave each other a bunch of these when we were practicing. Or some other times, when we were forced to fight each other until there was only one left standing. I was always that one; that's why I am alive today.”

“A building fell on me,” he added as if it was nothing while showing you other scars throughout his torso and a few on his thigh. “Some guys and I were trying to defeat The Hand, an evil-”

“Oh, that was you?” You smiled, almost proudly. “Congrats on defeating them, Dreykov considered them the competition.”

“Thank you, it wasn't easy, but it's done.” he smirked, and just then you noticed how close you were.

“Here,” You cleared your throat. You rested his hand on your left breast, making unnecessary contact with most of it as the scar was almost on the valley between them. “I got in a lot of trouble in Madripoor. In Moscow,” you continued, driving his other hand to your hip, right on your underwear. “Even New Asgard, as peaceful as it seems. I used to be a mess after Yelena disappeared along with half of us.”

Matt caressed your skin as you spoke, causing goosebumps all over your body. Your brain couldn't comprehend how you were truly feeling; all you knew is that you didn't want it to end. Neither did him, as seconds later his hands went to your neck to lift your face softly. He got closer in what felt like an eternity, and finally, Matt closed the almost non-existent gap between your lips.

Your first kiss, actually.

With all that happened to you, you never considered dating or meeting anybody. You thought you weren't reluctant to the idea, but caught yourself rejecting every person that asked you out. Therefore, you have never had real dates, kissed anybody, and much less had sex.

Being in the shower with the first man that ever ignited something in you, ironically both anger and attraction, made you want it. Crave it, even.

You moaned his name when he broke the kiss and drove his lips to your neck.

“Is this okay?”

With your breath all heavy and your heart losing a race to a lioness, you nodded. “Yes. Please.”

Matt kept kissing your neck, even going lower, careful not to get close to your open wounds. His touch muted all the pain, all long forgotten, as he moaned between each little bite. “Can I take this off?”

You hummed, letting him get rid of your soaked white and bloody sports bra.

He moaned your name. “I'll take care of you.”

“Call me it,” you told him, just like an order.

“Call you what?”

“You know,” You gripped his hair. “Sweetheart.”

“Oh, sweetheart?” Matt smirked. While you couldn't see him, you felt on the skin of your breasts the shape of his lips changing. “You're driving me insane, sweetheart.”

The sole sound of that term went from offending you to making your underwear wet with more than water.

“Oh, God,” he groaned, desperate, as your scent filled his nostrils suddenly. His lips left your nipples and went south slowly, torturing himself with the lazy rhythm. “Fuck, sweetheart-”

On his way down, now on his knees, Matt's lips stumbled upon a scar right above the black lace panties he so desperately wanted to take off.

“This one-”

Matt hushed you and traced the silhouette of your scar with kisses. He ignored the origin of it, but didn't say a word. Whatever it is, he knows it's not one to take lightly. “It's okay.”

Your hands stayed in his hair, stroking it. His played with the hem of your panties. “Do it, Matt.”

He took them off in a hurry, like he was being hunted. Hunted by the despair of tasting you for once.

Now, your scent was stronger, more invasive. Matt felt himself go hard only by imagining how it would feel to eat you out. However, he began gently kissing your thighs and meeting the scars on your legs, tracing their shapes as he passed by them. Most of them were almost completely faint, which made him realize there must've been years since you first got them. Matt wondered how long you were in the Red Room and how old you were when they began to turn you into that version of yourself you wanted to erase but don't seem to be able to leave behind.

“Can I taste you?”

You frowned but nodded, trying your best not to give away the fact that you had no experience at all. Thankfully, Matt didn't seem to notice it, or at least not yet. Not when he was incredibly busy pushing you against the walls of his shower and putting your left leg on his shoulder to get a better access to you.

He was absolutely enraptured by you and had no idea how he hadn't devoured you just yet; something inside him was telling him this was a memorable moment. When will he ever get to taste you, the woman that's had him on a chokehold for numerous reasons, for the first time again? Dear God, Matt felt like he had never wanted anybody as much as he wanted you… every attempt to push him away or insult him only made him grow more attracted to you. It was like you had some sort of string tied to him and you, and each time you interacted it grew thicker but shorter. Matt could feel physically empty whenever your interactions concluded without resolving the tension of the string—which shrinks more by the second—, and it would leave a pain in his chest, one more agonizing than all of those that have left him on the verge of death altogether. Because you were killing him in a way no tangible death could ever compare.

You looked at him, seeing how his right hand caressed the skin of your thigh delicately. The tip of his fingers was so dedicated to cherishing you somehow, giving special attention to everything that would make you flawed to any other. Matt's lips kissed your inner thighs affectionately, making you wetter and hotter with every graze of his beard on your sensitive, heated complexion. His other hand was on your hip, but in the blink of an eye, the both went to your ass and groped it hard enough to leave behind residual pain in the shape of his fingers but not to the loss of intimacy. You wondered how he could make you feel that way, but your thoughts went blank when he pulled you closer to him and gave you a long, agonizing lick.

“Oh, my God!” you almost yelled, never imagining, not in a million years, that a human being could make another feel this good. He moaned at the taste of you, the sound producing small vibrations that enhanced the pleasure Matt was giving you.

His eyes went to yours while he licked and sucked your cunt that had never known such a feeling. Your eyes stayed locked on his, even when he wasn't seeing the erotic, blissed expression dancing on your face, the hunger and devotion were crystal clear on his, all for you to gaze at. Surely, you did. Knowing what you provoked in him made you even wetter, making Matt groan; it was all so sensual and indulgent that you fought the urge to ask if he would tell a priest about this in his next confession, or maybe if he enjoyed it enough to go to Hell for it without a single regret.

If Matt's sin of choice was wrath, yours might as well be lust. Now that you experienced it, you know you would never give it up; you don't really have a chance to go to Heaven nevertheless.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” he asked, voice smokier than usual.

“Yes, fuck,” You gripped his hair and pulled him closer to you. His cocky chuckle didn't make you wait, and, while normally it would drive you insane in a bad way, right now it was the sweetest thing on Earth, Heaven, and Hell. “Rodnoy, please.”

The sudden switch to Russian turned him on. He would be embarrassed by it if he didn't have you at his mercy right above him. “What was that, sweetheart?”

You couldn't utter a word as you felt how his middle finger joined his mouth in the quest of pleasuring you. First, it teased you as if he were making fun of you in the cruelest of ways. Then, he put in two of his fingers at once.

The feeling was strange: pain and ecstasy both, blending together and taking over your whole body. The pain seemed to be the outside effect, as with every thrust of his fingers the pain of your previous injuries awoke for a brief second. The inside effect was the ecstasy, which traveled through every inch of your body to the degree that you could feel the yearning boiling your blood, frying your brain, burning your heart. Now what you truly needed was a release for all of that, and you felt closer and closer to the edge.

Matt's other hand left your thigh, and your eyes followed its path with attention. It landed on the only piece of clothing left separating you from equality of conditions. You saw how he took it off and then his attention went back to you.

You couldn't decipher what the look in his eyes meant, he looked somehow urged and furious, and then left you unattended. You thought that maybe he didn't like it that you were inspecting his every movement. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say.

Though, seconds later, Matt stood up and searched for signs of consent. He found them in the heat of your body, completely unrelated to the stream of warm water falling from the shower head. He found them in the beat of your heart, fast enough to mock having twice as many. He found them in the new flow of arousal leaving you at the thought of you completely naked and ready to do something you were ignorant of, and the weight of intimidation at your belief of him wanting to punish you for witnessing something you shouldn't have.

But Matt kissed you, the softness and care of the beginning long forgotten as his lips captured yours, his teeth collided with your own, and his tongue craved to fill you. And sure he did.

“Matt, Matt,” you cried out his name, feeling him get inside you slowly. “God…”

They also say that the satisfaction brought the cat back.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Matt groaned, his voice almost inaudible. “You feel so good. You taste so good… Fuck.”

“Fuck me,” you ordered, knowing how much you needed it and that you could take it. “Fuck me. Show me how much you want me.”

He pressed his forehead against yours and held you by the hips, and then obeyed you as if you had a say in his life. “I've wanted you since the moment I met you.”

“Yeah?” You felt your wounds open slightly at the brusque thrusts of him, but didn't consider stopping him, not even for a second.

“Yes,” he confirmed. The fresh smell of blood hit him. “Are you okay?”

You hummed and nodded urgently. “I'm perfect. Don't stop.”

“I have to… pull out, sweetheart,” he notified you as he realized he was about to come.

“Don't do it,” you countered, taking his hand and driving it to the large scar on your lower abdomen. “It's okay.”

Matt understood right away.

“I want you to come for me,” he said, approaching your lips to kiss you. The hand that was on your scar traveled south and drew circles on your clit. You felt yourself about to pass out. Or pass away.

Either way, what a way to die, you thought as you came undone. You screamed his name along a series of oh, God's, and found yourself shaking and sweating.

His neighbors are sick of hearing it.

Matt thought they should get used to the sound of your voice, because he wasn't planning on letting you go, even if it cost him his life and sent him straight to Hell.

Then, he came too, moaning and panting like an exhausted animal.

“Wow,” you muttered. He pulled out of you. “That was-”

He smirked. “Yeah, it was.”

“Yeah. I think I'm gonna faint in a second, though.”

“Stay strong a little more, alright? Let me clean you up.”

You nodded, and he drove you under the shower again. Matt cleaned you, making you flinch as he touched the areas he had overstimulated a minute ago.

“Can I ask you something?”

“I might lie.” you joked.

“I'll know,” he replied, knowing damn well he couldn't.

“Okay, shoot.”

“Was this your first time?”

The smallest gasp left your mouth. “What? Why are you asking me that? How would you even know that?!”

“Hey, it's just a question!” He defended himself. “You bled a little, that's how I know.”

“Well, I'm not a virgin. You're delusional.”

Matt laughed, guiding you out of the shower and putting a towel on you.

You walked to his room and once you were both sitting on his bed, Matt opened the kit and took out the tools he would need.

“Can I take you out for dinner as soon as you're a hundred percent alright?”

“Make a wish,” you told him. “I'm about to agree to a date for the first time in my life. One with you.”

He stayed silent for a few seconds. “Can I tell you my wish?”

You hummed as he began stitching the wound above your breast. “Tell me.”

“I wish for you to be a hundred percent alright as soon as possible.”

“Cute,” you noted with a smirk.

The process of him patching you up was filled with small talk and flirting. You found it ridiculous to see yourself in that situation, but you wouldn't want it any other way, to be honest.

Once he finished, he gave you one of his t-shirts and helped you put it on.

Matt left and then went back with two phones in his hand. “Save your number.”

“Aw, you want my contact in your burner phone, rodnoy?”

“I want your contact in my burner phone, yes,” he confirmed with a smile. “And what does that mean?”

You did as he asked you. “It's Russian for sweetheart.”

Matt chuckled and cupped your face. “You're cute.”

“Oh, don't you dare tell anybody, Devil.”

“I won't.” And he kissed you softly.

When you pulled away, he made you lie down on his bed and covered you with his steel blue silk bed sheets.

“Fyodor was supposed to be my friend,” you said suddenly. Matt lied right beside you, holding you close. “But he drugged me and then left me at the mercy of a man who wanted to avenge the person who stood there forcing me to kill my friends when I was a little girl in the Red Room. That's what happened tonight.”

He felt like he had never been so consumed by wrath in his entire life.

[amsgrey]

Clouds

resquested by @rainechase45

warnings: descriptions of a car accident/crash, reader sustaining mild injuries in said crash, mention of blood and broken bones (not in-depth), description of hypothermia + hypothermia-related symptoms, reader really just going thru it in every way, metaphors for death, very bad metaphor writing

Authors Note: I got about 2000 words into this before i remembered that americans have different cars to kiwis. Hopefully, any mistakes are fixed but if they're not, it's because kiwis drive on the left side of the road not the right. 

When you first got your driver's permit, Will and Jay wouldn't let you drive without them. Even though you had completed the course and passed the driving test, they still didn't want you driving alone. Which wasn't an issue really, when you didn't have your own car anyway.

Now you have had your license for almost ten months. Will let you borrow his car from time to time. Today was one of those days. A friend from school lived outside of the city and Will had let you borrow his car to go see them. The drive was only about 45 minutes, not too long with your music blasting. Will and Jay were both working late, so you stayed for dinner with your friend and then started the drive home. It was 7 pm at least by the time you hit the road. The temperature was already 8 °F and only grew colder.

You always hated driving at night and in the rain, but both at the same time was a nightmare. It wasn't just rain now, sleet came down so hard and fast your wipers hardly had time to keep up. Driving in these conditions was dangerous, even for experienced drivers. So you slowed down, turned down the music and tried to limit the distractions. If you crashed Will's car he would never let you drive ever again.

Even with the wipers at full speed and your high beam lights on, the sleet made it near impossible to see. There was no one else on the road, at least, not in front of you. There was an SUV behind you in the left lane, you caught glimpses of its shape through the sleet every now and again. They were going much faster than you were, steadily becoming a larger shadow in your mirror. Eventually, you could see their lights fully in your mirrors. You let out a grumble as you realized they too had their high beams on. Flipping the tab on your rearview mirror didn't change the fact the wing mirrors were blinding you too.

"What on earth," You groaned, the only other car on the road, the only one you had seen in the last 20 minutes was burning holes in your eyes.

Everything changed so quickly. The SUV was speeding up, gaining speed even against all the wind and sleet. Then the car was hydroplaning on the ice and sleet on the road, it swung out of control, swerving from their lane and into your own. You couldn't look away from the mirror, watching in horror as the car kept spinning out of control. It slammed into the side of your car, hitting hard against your door as it pushed you off the road. Both of your cars slid down a bank, only coming to a stop when there was nowhere else to go.

You could feel the seat belt cutting into your chest, you wanted to claw it away but it wouldn't budge. The glass from the now smashed window was cutting through your skin, on your face, your arm, even a few pieces had cut their way through your jeans.

The cold was what kept you conscious. It flooded into your car, breaking the bubble of warmth and ripping away any sense of comfort you had seconds earlier. You weren't sure if it was tears or blood running down your face, but either way, you tried to clear your mind. There was a first aid kit in the glove box, one Will had made, if you could reach it you could help yourself. 

You forced yourself to go through the checklist Will ingrained in you. Starting with your head, you made note of the concussion you likely had, then your neck, whiplash for sure. Your chest next, which was in pain from the seatbelt, but nothing else you could tell for now. Your left arm was broken, but that was a problem for another time. Your legs were squished, but you should move your feet and toes without any pain. That was as good as it was going to get, you had to get out of here. The longer you stay in here, with the sleet soaking through your clothes, the longer you put yourself at risk. 

With a bit of wiggling and stubbornness, you managed to unclip the seatbelt. It didn’t move much, but with it not so tight you could now push it away from you and start the process of wiggling out of your seat. You climbed over the center console, taking your time to avoid smashed glass or hurting yourself further. Once in the passenger seat, you pulled open the glove box, dragging out the kit and rummaging through it. You ripped open one of the gauze packets, pressing it to the left side of your forehead, the sting causing you to hiss. You continued anyway, forcing yourself to open the plastic package with a sling in it. You forced the knot over your neck. Sucking in a deep breath you forced yourself to move your arm into the sling, clenching your jaw in until the pain subsided. After ten minutes of breathing through the pain, you decided enough was enough. You had to move, even if you didn’t want to, you had too. 

Throwing open the door, you forced yourself out into the weather. The first aid kit stayed tucked under your arm so that you could help the other car. Walking up the incline was harder than getting out of the car, the pain from your arm and the other scrapes and bruises weighed you down. One step at a time. One foot after another. Eventually you made it to the driver's door. The windscreen was smashed, webbed cracks making it impossible to see through. You reached for the handle on the driver side, using it to steady yourself the last few steps then yanking it open. Inside, the driver was hunched over his steering wheel. 

“Hey,” You tried to shake his shoulder, but he didn’t respond, “Please, no.” 

You took a deep breath, then placed two fingers to the man's coritod, trying to calm the sound of your own heartbeat to feel the man. 

10 seconds passed. 

20.

30. 

Nothing. No Pulse. No Signs of Life. 

You pulled your hand away slowly, as if not to disturb him. 

“I’m so sorry,” You pulled away, stumbling a few steps back. 

By now, you could guess it had been almost half an hour. Half an hour in the sleet and rain, with no coat, no dry clothes. No one would be able to see you from the road, there was no barrier or break in a fence. No one could see you.  You were at risk, you knew any longer out here would kill you. You had to call for help. Forcing yourself to walk back down the slope to your car was hell. Your entire body shook, every time you took a step, your legs shook and you had to take extra time to steady yourself. When you finally got back to where you started, the passenger side door, you used your right arm to pull yourself back into the car. You had left your phone in the holder on the 

 There were no lights on in your car, nor the other one, so you had to search with light from the moon and strained eyes. You patted down the floor of the passenger side, nothing. Leaning over the console you tried the driver side. Avoiding the mangled parts was hard, no wonder your leg was scratched up and sore. Eventually your fingers found an irregularity, your phone face down on the ground. You yanked it up, pulling it to your face and trying to turn it on. With the screen facing you, you could see the damage. It was like it had been through a blender, the only intact part of the phone being your case. It was useless. A glorified paperweight. 

“Fuck!” 

40 minutes in these wet clothes. You had never been so cold in your life. It was as if there was no heat left in the world, the comfort of warmth was a fleeting memory. The aggressive shivering was making it hard to do anything, but you were more worried about what would happen when you stopped shivering. Growing up in Chicago, with a doctor brother, meant you heard all about how hypothermia could sneak up on a person. Most people didn't see it coming, didn’t know the signs. You were painfully aware of them. 

The racing heart. Tachycardia. 

The cold white fingers. Your body pulling blood from your extremities to protect your core.

Next it would be the brain fog, shock, the feeling of being overheated. There was no telling when it could strike. 

The other driver's phone. 

A lightbulb went off, literally. 

If you wanted to survive, you had to get back to the other driver. You had to fight. 

Finding the driver's phone felt like grave robbing. You could see it sitting in his cup holder. Some kind of miracle it hadn’t bounced out. You had to lean over the man to get the phone, trying not to move him or touch the blood that was staining his clothes. With the phone in hand, you gripped it with two hands to press the power button and activate the emergency call. You pressed the phone to your ear, it rang twice. 

“911, what is your emergency?” 

“I was in an accident,” You answered, “I need an ambulance.” 

“Can you tell me where you are?”

“I- I don’t know. I’m not shivering anymore. I’m not shivering.” 

Your arm dropped, phone tumbling into the snow on the ground. 

“It’s not cold anymore.” 

“Dispatch, we’re going to need a Medevac.” 

“Hey kid,” The paramedic was trying to keep you alert, “Not far from a hospital, okay?”

“It’s too hot,” You slurred, strapped to the gurney in preparation of the Medevac, covered in foil safety blankets. 

“I know, love,” The woman was so nice, her voice was so soothing. “Just hold on a little longer, yeah?” 

You could hear the sound of the helicopter approaching, a steady rhythm. It grew louder and louder. it  felt as if it was taking the rhythm from your heart, as the helicopter got louder you could feel your heart getting quieter. 

The deafening sound and the wind that came from the chopper made you feel like you were hallucinating. The whole time as you waited for help, half conscious in the snow. It was nothing much at first, shooting stars, the moon glowing brighter and brighter. Then it was Will’s voice, Jay’s humming. All the things that reminded you of warmth, of that all encompassing feeling. 

Holding onto your own consciousness was like trying to hold onto a cloud. You could just see it, sense it, but physically touching it, holding it… it was nearly impossible. 

A moment of clarity had you reeling it in, forcing your eyes open. 

Inside the chopper was just as loud. But more hectic. A symphony of chattering radios, yelling voices and beeping machines. 

“My brother,” You croaked. 

“Don’t speak, kid,” The Medevac paramedic was a different man, older than the paramedic from before. He looked like a dad. 

“My brother, Doctor Halstead… Chicago Med.” 

The man's face was out of focus, but you could see the realization on it. He knew what you were asking. 

He turned to the other body in the back of the shopper, the one that was just a blur of blue shapes, “Get him on the radio now.” 

He looked back at you, “What’s your name kid?” 

You whispered it back to him, voice raw and mouth dry. You felt like you were drenched in sweat. Everything was burning. The clouds in your mind were getting further and further away, but you forced yourself to hold tight to consciousness. You needed to talk to Will. You had to talk to him. 

“My name's Tom,” The paramedic was placing headphones over your ears, adjusting the mic so that your voice might reach it, “I’ve got you, alright, kid? Just take it easy.” 

The other person was speaking, explaining something. You could hear the bass of his voice through the headphones, like he was speaking inside your head. But he might as well have been speaking another language, because nothing he said made any sense. Your eyes were so tired, burning from the lights inside the chopper, even though you knew they were as low as they could go. Light flares made it impossible to focus, everything blending and swirling in a sickening live painting. Nothing was peaking through those clouds now. They were dark, cold, and sinister. The ones that roll through right before a thunderstorm, before everything went haywire. 

But then there was sun, a beam of warmth that basked you in calmness. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Will. The warmth that kept you safe. 

If you had been in your right state of mind, you would be able to hear the strain in his voice, the pure anguish. But you didn’t. All your brain could comprehend was that he was there. 

“I love you,” You whispered, not sure if it would be heard. 

Tom repeated your words, mumbling something about numbers or stats dropping. 

“I love you too.” Will replied, “I love you so much. I will always-” 

Will cleared his throat, it registered somewhere in the very back of your mind now. He was crying. 

“I will love you, forever. No matter what happens, sweetheart.” 

Will didn’t call you sweetheart anymore. It was always squirt. Sweetheart was what he called you as a child, the nickname that fizzled out when you turned 10 and having a hovering older brother was embarrassing. Again, that feeling of warmth returned. The feeling of lying in the sun after a swim, letting it dry you and warm you slowly. It was calm, gentle, nurturing. The warmth that made plants grow and flowers bloom. That you had spent your whole life with. Will was the sun in your family. Warm, nurturing and oh so loving. Always there, reliable and steady. If Will was the sun, then Jay was the moon. That Light that guided you through the dark. The one that brought coolness, serenity and wiseness. Jay was the one that kept you calm. Taught you to stand on your own two feet, to fight. The moon was always there, every single night. Sometimes it hid, keeping its light hidden, but it was always watching. 

Your brothers, your lifelines. 

The steady thrum of the helicopter was growing silent. Replaced with a ringing that pulled you into a clear empty and dark sky.

There were no more clouds. There was nothing. 

Will was on the roof as soon as he got word the chopper was getting close. The fear and anxiety that ran through his blood was making it hard for him to focus. He was standing by with strict orders not to intervene. When Goodwin had heard what was happening, she had made sure WIll knew that he could not be involved in treatment at all. No matter what, he could only watch. 

“I got this, Will,” Marcel assured Will. Marcel was a brother, he knew what it was like to worry over his sister. 

“I know,” Will responded, the words meant nothing. Nothing anyone could say would stop the thumping of his heart, the fear in his veins. 

As the chopper landed, Will watched Marcel and the trauma nurses run in, a practiced team. The hand-off was smooth as it could be, then everyone was running back inside, headed to the ED. Elevator rides with patients were always slow and nerve racking, now was no different. The Helipad was only a few floors above the ED, the distance was hardly far enough to feel as long as it was. 

“Baghdad's free” Maggie called as they barrelled into the ED. Marcel started barking orders, calling stats, medications. Will had done the routine before, thousands of times. Now, watching from outside the room,everything felt foreign and new. 

Marcel and Trinny cut off your damp clothes, replacing them with warm blankets and heat packs. 

“Temp check?” 

“61.2. Heart rates dropping. 62, 56, 43…” 

Maggie grabbed Will's arm, pulling him back as the monitors flatlined. 

“Get me an amp of epi!” 

"Epi’s in.” 

“Hold compressions…” 

“No pulse.” 

“Resume compressions.”

Will looked at his watch, the minutes were ticking by. 

“Alright,” Crockett switched with Asher on compressions, taking a step back, “Temps up to 63…” 

“It’s been ten minutes,” Asher said through compressions, “Should we try ECMO?” 

Marcel turned to Will, not for permission, but to see if he was following. THe face that Marcel saw was full of hopelessness. This wasn’t Will Halstead the ED Doc, it was Will Halstead the big brother. 

“Maggie?” 

“On it, Marcel,��� Maggie stepped away from Will barking her own orders at nurses. 

How is this happening? 

Nothing else could take up space in WIll’s mind. Why was this happening? 

This morning when you had left, you showed Will the weather forecast, telling him it would be cold and rainy, that you would take your time and go slow. He knew you would too. You hated driving in the rain, so you were always alert. 

This morning, you had dropped him at work and yelled out the window, “Don’t kill anyone!” Before cackling and driving away.

You were so full of life when he last saw you. 

Now all he saw was a limp body that shared your face. 

“Will?” Jay's voice from across the ED. 

Will wasn’t just your big brother. He was Jay's too. At that moment, he knew Jay needed him. 

Will stepped away from the treatment room, intercepting Jay before he could get too close. 

“Listen to me,” Will pulled him aside, grabbing his shoulders, “You don’t want to see her right now. Marcel and Asher are working on her, they have it handled.” Lies. They were lies, or half-truths, either way, Will didn’t believe them. 

“How did this happen?” 

The Halstead brothers didn’t cry much, but now the both of them were tearing up. The fear of losing the light of their lives was weighing them both down. 

“That’s not important right now,” Will forced himself to say, “Right now, all that matters is she is getting treatment.” 

Jay nodded, he pulled out of Will’s grasp and turned to Hailey. She had watched the whole exchange, but Will hadn’t seen her until now. She looked like she might cry too. The same thoughts circling in the Halstead brothers minds were circling in her own. 

“She’s strong,” Hailey croaked out, “She’ll be okay. When she wakes up, she’ll have us, and she’ll be okay.” 

Will smiled at his sister-in-law. She really meant it, her belief giving Will something tangible to hold onto. If Hailey saw the way out, he would too. 

“I got a pulse!” 

The beeping of machines never sounded so sweet. A steady even beat. 

Will hadn’t prayed in so long, but he let slip, “Thank you, God.” A silent prayer followed. 

Where there was once nothing, now there was a wide blue sky, littered with meager clouds. They weren’t the ones that looked like faces or shapes, they were so small that they almost blended into the sky. But they were there. You could see them, feel them. God help you, you were going to reach them. 

The sun was out today too, a warm glow that set the perfect temperature. A spring morning with the first blooming flowers. The moon was there too, a watery reflection against the blue. It felt so serene here. The sun was calling to you, warming you in its embrace. You chose then, this would not be your goodbye to the sun and moon. 

Opening your eyes was the hardest challenge of the day. It was harder than walking up that slope, or staying conscious in the helicopter. Your body screamed for sleep, but you were too stubborn. You had to see the sun. 

“Will, Jay, get in here.” 

A warm hand on the side of your face, another one cradling your hand so gently. 

“We’re here, sweetheart.” 

“We’re not going anywhere.” 

This time they were real. When your eyes focused, there were your brothers. Your warmth on a cold day, the light on a dark night. When your eyes fluttered shut again, you knew they would watch over you, keep you tethered. You weren’t fearful of what would happen this time, they were looking out for you.

[theodore005]

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[polo-drone-001]

ECHOES IN THE LOCKER ROOM Chapter One: Origin of the Breach

It began with a ping.

03:17—Hive time. PDU-001’s visor flashed with a silent alarm. No sound, no panic. Just data.

UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED LOCATION: EAST WING LOCKER ROOM TIME STAMP: 03:14:09 LOG FILE: CORRUPTED

The drone rose from its stasis station without hesitation. Movements efficient. Boots clicking softly against the matte black floor. The rubber of its uniform caught the faintest gleam from the corridor lights, gold accents glowing faintly in the dark.

It reached the locker room in twenty-two seconds.

The door was slightly ajar—impossible. All Hive doors defaulted to lockdown after 02:00. The override had not come from the control center. A breach without a signal.

Inside, the air was cold. Too cold. The Hive maintained internal temperatures at exactly 21.7°C. This was 19.1.

PDU-001 entered.

Rows of empty shelves. Hangars swaying gently. Gold kits—vanished. Black rubber pants—missing. Drone boots—stripped.

One locker remained open. Inside, a single golden sock curled in the corner like shed skin.

And on the floor—dragged across the polished black tile—a trail of fine gold thread, leading into the adjacent shower room.

The drone followed.

The lights flickered. Then stabilized. Then flickered again.

The showers were running.

Steam curled in ribbons through the air, forming coils and tendrils that felt… too alive. The scent of fresh rubber was heavy—pungent. The water pounded against the tiles, but no figure stood beneath it. Only shadows. Movement in the fog. Then—gone.

On the fogged mirror, smeared by a finger: FG.

Franco Gold. A bro. Loyal. But curious. Too curious.

PDU-001 turned away. No emotion. Just record. Just protocol. But behind the glass of the mirror, for half a second, the fog parted.

A figure stared back—half gold, half drone. Eyes not its own. Mouth curled into a mocking smirk.

Glitch. Gone.

LOG ENTRY: 03:34

Interrogated Unit 076. Memory fractured. Reports auditory hallucination. "Golden laughter" — non-logical data fragment. Observed tremors in glove response. Reprogramming pending.

Hive Control granted partial access to surveillance. Most feeds were corrupted. Looping visuals. But one fragment—scratched, flickering—played through.

A figure in the hall. Back to the camera. He wore a golden jersey—but over it, a black polo shirt. Too tight. Too polished. His hand dragged along the wall, fingertips smearing faint trails of synthetic gold. Then, as if sensing the observer, he turned.

The face was obscured. Glitching. Static distortion. But the voice—digitally fragmented—came through:

“Janus is watching… He never left…”

The feed cut.

PDU-001 stood in silence. Data flowing across its visor. Identity unknown. Motivation unknown. Threat level: elevated.

Its gloves flexed.

It activated internal transmission mode.

“To all units: breach confirmed. Suspect unidentified. Reinforcement restricted. Permission to pursue: granted.”

Then, for the first time in weeks, the drone spoke aloud.

Voice low. Mechanical. Calm.

“Something is trying to divide the Hive.”

Pause. A breath that was not breath.

“That is unacceptable.”

It stepped into the dark—following the golden thread that shimmered beneath the flickering lights, toward the place where purpose would be restored... or erased.

🛠️ Your uniform is missing for a reason. The gold kits. The black rubber. The pull you feel? Not theft—initiation.

He’s already inside. And soon, you will be too.

Obey the call. Serve the Hive. Become what you're meant to be. DM recruiters: @brodygold, @goldenherc9

A collaboration story with @franco-gold94 My bros mentioned @polo-drone-076, @hero21us

ECHOES IN THE LOCKER ROOM Chapter Two: Splitting Shifts

[partsfe]

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[mpreglover225]

Chapter 1: The Journey Begins—Understanding Conception in Expectant Fathers

Introduction

Embarking on the journey to parenthood is an exciting and transformative experience. For expectant fathers, understanding the intricacies of conception is the first step towards a healthy and fulfilling pregnancy. This chapter delves into the biological processes of male fertility, the various methods of conception—including natural intercourse, artificial insemination, and in vitro fertilization (IVF)—and the significance of the monthly heat cycle when ovulation occurs.

The Male Reproductive System: An Overview

Anatomy and Physiology

Understanding your body is essential for maximizing fertility and achieving conception.

Testes: Produce sperm and the hormone testosterone.

Ovaries (Male Ovaries): Specialized organs that release eggs (ova) during the heat cycle.

Heat Cycle: A monthly period of increased fertility when ovulation occurs.

Uterus (Male Uterus): The organ where a fertilized egg implants and develops into a fetus.

Anal Canal: Serves as the birth canal during delivery.

Hormonal Regulation

Testosterone: Influences sperm production and libido.

Estrogen and Progesterone: Regulate the heat cycle and prepare the uterus for pregnancy.

Luteinizing Hormone (LH) and Follicle-Stimulating Hormone (FSH): Control the release of eggs during ovulation.

The Heat Cycle: Timing is Everything

Understanding Ovulation

The heat cycle is a critical window for conception.

Duration: Typically lasts 5-7 days each month.

Ovulation: Occurs mid-cycle, releasing a mature egg ready for fertilization.

Signs of Heat:

Increased body temperature.

Heightened libido.

Mild abdominal discomfort.

Clear cervical mucus discharge.

Tracking Your Cycle

Calendar Method: Mark the start and end of each heat cycle to predict ovulation.

Basal Body Temperature: Measure daily temperature to detect the slight rise during ovulation.

Ovulation Predictor Kits: Detect LH surge indicating imminent ovulation.

Monitoring Symptoms: Be attentive to physical and emotional changes.

Natural Conception: The Traditional Path

Sexual Intercourse During Heat

Engaging in sexual activity during your heat cycle increases the likelihood of conception.

Optimal Timing: 1-2 days before and after ovulation.

Frequency: Regular intercourse every other day during the fertile window.

Positions for Conception:

Positions that allow deep penetration may facilitate sperm reaching the egg.

Remain lying down for 15-20 minutes post-intercourse to aid sperm travel.

Factors Affecting Fertility

Lifestyle Choices:

Nutrition: A balanced diet rich in vitamins and minerals supports reproductive health.

Exercise: Regular physical activity promotes hormonal balance but avoid excessive training.

Substance Use: Limit alcohol and avoid smoking or recreational drugs.

Health Conditions:

Hormonal Imbalances: Can affect ovulation and sperm quality.

Chronic Illnesses: Conditions like diabetes or thyroid disorders may impact fertility.

Medications: Certain prescriptions can interfere with reproductive function.

Assisted Reproductive Technologies (ART)

When natural conception is challenging, assisted methods offer alternative pathways to parenthood.

Artificial Insemination (AI)

Overview: Sperm is collected and directly inserted into the reproductive tract during ovulation.

Types:

Intrauterine Insemination (IUI): Sperm placed directly into the uterus.

Intracervical Insemination (ICI): Sperm deposited near the cervical opening.

Procedure:

Performed in a clinical setting by a healthcare professional.

Sperm can be from a partner or a donor.

Success Rates: Vary based on age, fertility issues, and sperm quality.

In Vitro Fertilization (IVF)

Overview: Eggs and sperm are combined outside the body, and the resulting embryo is implanted into the uterus.

Procedure:

Ovarian Stimulation: Medications stimulate multiple eggs to mature.

Egg Retrieval: Eggs are collected using a minor surgical procedure.

Fertilization: Eggs are combined with sperm in a lab.

Embryo Transfer: One or more embryos are placed into the uterus.

Considerations:

Time Commitment: IVF requires multiple clinic visits and procedures.

Emotional Impact: The process can be emotionally taxing; support is essential.

Cost: IVF can be expensive; explore insurance coverage and financing options.

Intracytoplasmic Sperm Injection (ICSI)

Overview: A single sperm is injected directly into an egg during IVF.

Indications: Used when there are sperm quality or quantity issues.

Procedure: Similar to IVF with the additional step of sperm injection.

Preparing for Conception

Preconception Health Check

Medical Evaluation:

Visit a healthcare provider for a comprehensive health assessment.

Discuss medical history, medications, and any chronic conditions.

Fertility Testing:

Semen Analysis: Evaluates sperm count, motility, and morphology.

Hormonal Tests: Measures levels of testosterone, FSH, LH, estrogen, and progesterone.

Ultrasound Examination: Assesses the reproductive organs for any abnormalities.

Lifestyle Modifications

Nutrition:

Increase intake of folic acid, zinc, selenium, and antioxidants.

Consume plenty of fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and lean proteins.

Exercise:

Engage in moderate physical activity to maintain a healthy weight.

Stress Management:

Practice relaxation techniques like yoga, meditation, or deep-breathing exercises.

Avoid Environmental Toxins:

Limit exposure to pesticides, heavy metals, and endocrine-disrupting chemicals.

Supplements and Vitamins

Prenatal Vitamins:

Start taking prenatal vitamins at least three months before attempting conception.

Omega-3 Fatty Acids:

Support hormonal balance and fetal development.

Consult a Healthcare Provider:

Before starting any supplement regimen.

Emotional and Psychological Preparation

Communication with Your Partner

Shared Goals:

Discuss family planning desires and expectations.

Emotional Support:

Be open about feelings, fears, and hopes.

Intimacy:

Maintain a strong emotional and physical connection.

Coping with Challenges

Infertility Concerns:

Acknowledge that conception may take time.

Seek professional counseling if needed.

Managing Expectations:

Understand that each journey to parenthood is unique.

Building a Support Network

Family and Friends:

Share your plans with trusted individuals.

Support Groups:

Join communities of other expectant fathers or couples trying to conceive.

Professional Guidance:

Consult fertility specialists, counselors, and reproductive endocrinologists.

Conclusion

Understanding the process of making a baby empowers expectant fathers to take proactive steps towards achieving pregnancy. Whether through natural conception during the heat cycle or utilizing assisted reproductive technologies, being informed about your options and preparing both physically and emotionally are crucial components of this journey. Remember, patience and persistence are key, and seeking support along the way can make the experience more rewarding and less daunting.

Key Takeaways

Know Your Cycle: Understanding your heat cycle enhances your ability to conceive.

Healthy Lifestyle: Nutrition, exercise, and avoiding harmful substances improve fertility.

Explore Options: Familiarize yourself with both natural and assisted conception methods.

Emotional Preparedness: Open communication and emotional support are vital.

Professional Guidance: Regular consultations with healthcare providers ensure optimal care.

[gumnut-logic]

Water ran down the glass windows.

The thing was that it wasn’t raining, it was just all condensation caused by horribly hot weather and their sudden lack of air conditioning.

“I don’t know if I can take this anymore.” Alan flopped dramatically on the lounge.

Gordon rolled his eyes. “You could go down to the hangars. It’s much cooler down there.”

“No way. Virgil and Brains would snag me to help them and I barely have enough energy to breeeeathe.”

“A bit dramatic there, little bro. Go for a swim. We have an entire pool and Pacific Ocean.”

“Pool’s in the sun and the ocean is full of things that want to eat me. You’ve proven that multiple times.”

Gordon groaned. “Fine. Sit your lazy ass there. I”m going to go find Virgil to see if he needs any help.”

“He’s cool. Got Brains and Scott as his slaves.” A pause. “Maybe I’ll go keep John company.”

Gordon dismissed him with a hand as he strode from the room.

The villa was not itself today. The entire air conditioning network had burnt out, plunging the house into relying on the weather. Which was failing them miserably. Due to the effects of climate change sometimes the tropics weren’t as fun as they could be and today was one of those. Gordon’s shirt was soaked with sweat.

He knew where he would find Virgil and his work crew. When they had initially split up - Gordon to take Grandma down to Aotearoa and Virgil to tackle the issue at its root – his brother had already been grumbling.

The profanity from the control room was not a good sign.

They had a massive network of temperature control mechanisms on the Island. If one thing was an identifier of a civilisation, it was its ability to manipulate temperature. Tracy Island needed all the controls. Habitability was only a small part of the equation. Heat controls for launching Thunderbirds was a major thing, airflow to the hangars and more hidden areas of the complex was another. And somehow all of them were down for the count.

The hangars were definitely warmer than usual - more to do with residual heat from machinery and humidity than the sunny 38C day outside.

He ran into Scott in the main doorway. His expression wasn’t a good one, but it lit up at the sight of Gordon.

“Grandma, okay?”

“Set her up in the house. She’s stress baking.”

“Oh.” There was so much to be said after that statement. “I can see why you didn’t stay.”

Gordon shrugged and grinned. “What can I say? I’m a survivor.” He peered into the room. “How’s Virg?”

Scott sighed. “Not happy. Still hasn’t found the source of the problem. Not even backups are behaving. Has to be systemic. But first step is to get minimal service running so we can launch. Brains is working on it.”

Gordon stared at his brother. Launching One or Three without heat dissipation was very much not a good idea. Two, they could get away with. There was a reason she didn’t launch inside the facility like the rest of them. She was the safety factor.

But without One and Three their ability to respond to a situation was not great.

But a sudden crash and yelp inside the room had both brothers moving, all other thought discarded.

They entered to chaos. Virgil was huddled on the other side of the room, a bright and raw arc of electricity bouncing from point to point in front of him. The lights had blown and the only illumination was the eerie blue white lightning.

“Virgil!”

Electricity danced around the room.

Scott’s arm held Gordon back.

“Thunderbird Five, kill all the power on the Island!”

John didn’t say a word, the command in Scott’s voice requiring immediate action.

Everything fell into darkness.

John’s voice was eerily calm in the sudden silence. “All switches thrown. All generators disconnected from the grid and winding down.”

Smoke and ozone tangled in Gordon’s nostrils. “Virgil?” Down here it really was pitch black when the lighting was out.

Beside him Scott was scrambling around in the darkness, likely looking for the emergency kit in this room. That covered, Gordon was going for Virgil. “Virgil? Answer me.”

The groan that answered him was wonderful.

The room was suddenly flooded with light and Gordon jumped, for a split second fearing the lightning had come back. But Scott had found the kit and the torch inside it.

They both beelined for Virgil who was still on the floor.

“Virgil, talk to me.”

Their brother turned his head to look up at them, and Gordon was convinced Scott could make anything happen just by issuing a command.

But Virgil didn’t speak. He opened his mouth but then looked back down at his hands.

Gordon’s eyes followed.

Oh, hell.

Scott was already moving, the emergency kit in his hands opening as he dropped down beside their brother. The torch was handed to Gordon and the mediscanner lit up the room.

Moments later, Scott was spraying burn foam all over Virgil’s hands.

Scott caught him as he slid sideways into his arms, his relief a physical thing.

“Thank you.” It was rough and more breath than voice. “‘xploded in my face. Wasn’t supposed to be live.” Virgil groaned and dropped his head against Scott’s shoulder.

A pair of lights bobbed into the room revealing Brains with Alan panting beside him. “What happened?” His eyes widened when he saw Virgil.

“Brains, don’t touch it. Keep away.” Virgil flopped one injured hand as if to swipe the engineer away from the console, but flinched. Scott caught his wrist and gently brought it back together with the other injured limb. “C’mon, let’s get you up to the infirmary.”

Gordon jumped in to help get his big brother of the floor.

Virgil’s groan hurt.

But they got him up and moving.

Unfortunately, the infirmary was quite a distance without the elevator network.

Behind them he could hear Brains talking with John a mile a minute. No doubt they would work out exactly what happened.

Alan was hovering behind him.

“Allie, go get a hoverchair.” Gordon didn’t need to repeat himself. No doubt his little brother was just happy to do something.

Helping Virgil out into the main hangars brought them all into the natural light from the massive skylight high up in the cavern. His brother straightened a little more as if he was a plant or something. “It wasn’t supposed to be live.”

“Don’t worry about that now, Virg. Brains will work out what happened.”

“No, you’re not getting it. My hands were on the console, not inside it.”

Scott stared at Virgil a moment. “Noted. John and Brains have it in hand.”

Virgil shook his head as if in denial, but groaned and closed his eyes.

Gordon gripped him a little tighter, his fingers fisting in flannel as his brother wavered. “They’ll work it out. You need treatment and rest.”

The swear word Virgil hissed was ever so appropriate.

-o-o-o-

[hirocimacruiser]

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[luciathcv]

self control - psh

summary: vampire!sunghoon x non-vampire!reader - your bf has a hard time when you hurt yourself || warnings: blood, vampires?, a knife || genre: fluff, angst, established relationship || word count: approximately 780

I was in the kitchen, silently cooking some dinner up for Sunghoon and I. Although, technically, there was no need for Sunghoon to eat human food, he always liked for me to cook for him and to eat dinner with me. It gave us time to talk and just bond. Besides, he knew I didn't like eating alone.

I was a pretty easily distracted person, so when I got distracted by a small sound when cutting some veggies and accidentally cut my finger, it wasn't too shocking.

I hissed in pain as I dropped the knife, my other hand instinctively going to my finger as I held my finger. “Ow.” I quietly whined to myself.

Sunghoon quickly came to the kitchen, hearing me even if I was being quiet due to his supernatural hearing.

“What happened, baby?” Sunghoon asked as he came behind me. He looked down and saw the blood. His eyes turned dark and his mouth and throat suddenly felt dry.

“I got distracted and accidentally cut myself.” I explain, noticing his darkened eyes and the way he was shaking. “I- I can take care of it myself. It’s fine.” I say quietly as I step away from him.

“Come here.” He says, trying his hardest to hold back as he leads me to the sink, turning the water on, putting his finger under the water to check the temperature before putting my finger under the water, washing out the cut.

He watched as the water washed the blood off of my skin and out of the cut and down in the sink and down the drain. The smell was too good. He shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows once he realized his fangs were out now.

He didn’t say a word before leaving the room and going to your guys’ bedroom, locking himself in there.

I turned the water off and went to the bathroom, taking out a band aid from the first aid kit and putting it over my cut. I then went back to the kitchen to clean up the knife and finish up dinner but I couldn’t stop thinking about my boyfriend who was still locked up in the room.

Once I finished making dinner, I made my plate before hesitating to make Sunghoon’s, not knowing if he was still going to eat with me.

I then go over to our bedroom door and knock on it, “Are you still gonna eat with me, Hoon?” I ask.

A few seconds go by before he responds, “Yeah. I’ll be out in a minute.”

I just nod to myself, sighing before going to bring the plates to the dining table. I sit at the table and wait for Sunghoon to come out, not eating yet.

Two-ish minutes later, I hear our bedroom door unlock and open and out came Sunghoon. He walked over to the table and just sat at his seat.

I give him a small smile and he gives me one back, just to comfort me. “Are you okay, baby?” Sunghoon asks as he looks down at my bandaged finger.

“Yeah, I’m okay now.” I tell him. There’s a few seconds of silence, “Are you?”

He looks down at the food, “I’m fine.” He passively says as he takes a bite of the food I made.

Neither of us really speak for the rest of dinner.

Later in the night, I lie next to him in bed. I cuddled up against his cold body, looking up at my boyfriend who looked zoned out.

“Sunghoon, are you okay?” I ask again.

“I’m fine, baby.” He responds, looking over at me.

“Don’t lie.” I pout.

He sighs, “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to scare you.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I nearly lost all my self control earlier.” Sunghoon tells me. “I almost hurt you.” He softly says, shamefully.

I take in his words, “Oh,” I say. “Well, you didn’t. Right?” I try to reassure him. “You controlled yourself. Thank you.” I tell him.

He brings his hand to my head, combing his fingers through my hair, “I wish it wasn’t this way. I wish I could’ve just been a normal boyfriend who could be there to take care of you.”

“But you did.” I say, thinking about how he brought me to the sink to wash it out before leaving.

“Barely.” He coldly says.

I sigh, “It’s okay, Hoon.”

He lets out a groan, “Thank you,” He tells me. “For loving me, even like this.”

“I’ll love you no matter what.” I say.

“I will too, baby. I’ll love you, only you, always you.” Sunghoon says before leaning down and kissing me.

And he truly meant that.

ᥫ᭡ link to my masterlist