transemacabre | Watchmen fic roundup

Here's the ficlets I've written so far for the

watchmenkink Watchmen Kink Meme. As it IS a kink meme, you should expect everything to be smutty. Also, het-tastic.

Title: Untitled
Pairing: Sally Jupiter/Eddie Blake
Prompt: the night of Laurie's conception. and oh please please please have some excellent smut.

Sally was primping in the mirror when she heard the knock at the door. She pursed her lips and kissed at her reflection before going to answer. Probably some delivery boy with love letters addressed to Silk Spectre, or boring papers that Laurence needed her to sign. The knocking began again, louder, and she called out, "Coming!"

Sheesh, Sally thought to herself, as she swung the door open without bothering to look in the peephole, some people have no pa-- "Ah." Her face went white and hard as marble. "Ah. Eddie."

Edward Blake pushed past her, into her house, her home, while Sally was too stunned to stop him. Sally whirled, her hands tightening into fists. "Get out of here," she hissed. "Get out of my home!"

Edward glanced around her immaculate living room (that Spanish girl, Maria, always did such a good job) with an expression somewhere between curiosity and disgust. "Long time no see."

"I'll scream," Sally warned him, bracing herself in the doorway. "I'll scream and this time, I'll let Hooded Justice beat you to a pulp." She was a hero, damnit. She wasn't going to let this -- this lowlife menace her in her own home.

He stepped closer to her, towering over her, and it took a lot of willpower for Sally not to step back. "I came to make things right with you," he told her.

Her mouth gaped open. "There are no apologies that will make what you did right!"

Edward seemed to mull over this for a moment. "I don't want you -- hating me," he said finally.

Sally exhaled sharply and rubbed her temple. "Fine, I don't hate you. Feel better? Now get out of my house!"

Edward sat down in her husband's recliner, propping his feet up on the arm of her couch. He pulled a lighter from his pocket, fingering it idly, flipping it open and closed. "I'm not a good man," he said. "This whole world is nothing but stinking gutters and bare-knuckle struggle for survival. I need to make things right between us, if it's the only right thing in the world."

Sally crossed the room and sank down onto the couch, ashamed at the trembling in her knees. "What do you want from me, Eddie?" she asked wearily. "You come in my house, wanting some sort of absolution from me. All I can do is forgive you, Eddie. I can't make what you did right."

He sat up, planting his feet on the floor and his hands over hers in one smooth motion, fast enough to catch her before she could flinch away. "What I want..." he murmured, his voice pitched so low that she could almost feel the rumble in her body. "I need -- I need you to look at me. Don't fight me. I won't hurt you again."

He was so close to her. How did he get so close? "Eddie," Sally said, taking a deep breath. "You need to leave." But when she tried to pull away he held her there, his hands clasping hers.

"See?" Edward asked, and then, "I'm not all bad. Not hurting you at all." His thumbs were tracing circles on her palms.

"Eddie," she said, and bent a little so that the couch arm would hide her erect nipples from him. But Eddie pushed himself off Laurence's recliner and was kneeling in front of her on the floor. Sally instinctively leaned back, and he moved forward into her, releasing her hands but almost immediately placing his hands one on each thigh. "Eddie..." she repeated, as though saying his name would somehow cast a spell on him, allow her to regain control.

Edward moved closer, pushing Sally back onto the couch, his hands spreading her thighs, allowing his bulk between her legs. Sally squirmed, but somehow she found her hands resting on his shoulders, caressing. When she could bring herself to look in his face, Sally was taken aback by the heat, the intensity in his eyes. He tried a couple of shallow thrusts against her, and Sally shut her eyes, desperately trying to ignore the warmth pooling within her own treacherous body.

Edward slid a hand between them, down her ribcage (the ribs he had broken), her belly, and then between her legs. Sally wiggled, lifting her hips up so he could pull off her panties. Almost immediately he slid two fingers in her, and her gasp was drowned out by his own. "Ah, damn," he muttered, slicking his fingers in her. "Sally." Her eyes cracked open at the sound of her name. "So beautiful. Most beautiful... in the world..."

Sally couldn't stop herself from caressing his neck, his hair, his shoulders, down onto his chest. He thrust against her again, and she could feel him through his pants. Edward pulled back, and Sally stifled a moan of disappointment. "No," he panted, fiddling with the buttons on her blouse. "No, take it off. I need to see you."

He'd already popped off half the buttons by the time Sally got to work, and moments later, both her blouse and her bra were tossed carelessly over Edward's shoulder. God, how I can be doing this, Sally thought, until Edward kissed her nipple, flicking it with his tongue. Then she heard the click of his belt, and if Sally Jupiter would've back out at any moment, it would've been that moment. But Edward kissed his way down her belly and somehow managed to shed his pants at the same time, too quickly for her to gather herself and fight him off.

He kissed her between her legs, making Sally's back arch off the couch as she shouted. Edward grasped her legs, holding them up as he licked and nibbled lightly. Sally tossed and flailed, moaning, and his own breathing was growing ragged. He pressed her knees against the couch, moving over her, one hand between his legs to guide himself.

It was Sally who kissed him, grabbing his face with both hands and pulling her to him, and a moment later he pushed into her. She gasped against his mouth at the sensation. Edward pulled back, then thrust into her again, harder. And then again. Harder.

"I don't deserve this," he said. Sally's nails bit into his back and shoulders deep enough to draw blood. She was so close -- she could feel it -- the incredible friction --

Edward came inside her, and a couple of thrusts later the world whited out, and Sally screamed, one hand over her face, the other clinging to Edward like a life line. He rested his weight on her, breathing deeply into her neck. She swallowed, feeling the sting from her raw throat.

Sally had threatened to scream, after all.

Title: Untitled II
Pairing: 63!verse Edie Blake/Sammy Jupiter
Prompt: Also someone should totally do Fem!Comedienne/Sammy Jupiter.

Edie was accustomed to the stares of men and women; the catcalls, the whistles, the open appreciation. Six feet in heels, with long brown hair and a smirk that held promise of every sort of sin, Edie was a knockout -- in more ways than one.

Not long after she put on her mask and started tearing through the junk hounds and gangsters down by the docks, Nite Owl contacted her and invited Edie to join him and the Minutemen. Edie went reluctantly the first time, hardly enthused by Nite Owl's goofy costume or his straight and narrow proclivities -- for all that he wore a mask, he was no different from any copper -- but that all changed the first night when she laid eyes on Specter.

My oh my, for the first time in years, The Comedienne was at a loss for a joke. Sammy the Specter was a golden boy, sporting the perfect smile, the perfect body, hell, he probably had the perfect pancreas. Edie wanted him so bad she could taste it. But Sammy was much too busy foiling bank robberies and posing for photos with adoring fans to notice his teammate who wore pants like a man and threw a punch like one, too.

That had to change, Edie decided, and what better time than now? She followed him into the changing room, her heels going click click click on the floor. Sammy gawked at her as she brushed past him, pivoted on her heels, and sat her bottom down atop the table. "How's it going, handsome?" she purred, crossing her legs so he'd take a gander at her gams.

"Miss Blake," said Sammy chivalrously, "this is the gentlemen's changing room."

Edie feigned surprise. "Why, so it is, Sammy boy! And me without my lighter." She placed a cigarette between her lips, arching a brow at him expectantly.

Sammy looked away. "Miss Blake, I must ask you to leave."

Edie reached out and caught him by his collar, teasing the buttons with her fingers. "And what if I don't leave?" she asked, sliding one hand inside his jacket. "Will you.... make me?"

Sammy went to catch her hands, but Edie was too quick for him -- like a shot she plucked his lighter from his pocket and struck it, lighting her own cigarette. She grinned at the furrow between his brows, the hard set of his lips.

"Why are you being so difficult, Miss Blake?"

Edie blew a smoke ring. "Because you've got what I want," she told him. "And I don't mean your lighter." She tossed it in the air, and as he caught it she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him to her. Sammy gasped and grasped the table corners, trying to look everywhere but at her.

"At a loss for words, Sammy boy?" Edie murmured, her breath hot on his neck. "Cat got your tongue?" She rubbed his bottom with one pointed heel, silently cheering at his sharp intake of breath.

"M-miss B-blake," stuttered Sammy, as Edie snaked her arms around his shoulders. "You have to s-stop."

Stop? Stop now that she was so close to getting what she wanted? Poo! Sammy Jupiter was a silly boy. And Edie Blake always got what she wanted. She rocked against him, reveling in her power over him, the guilty bulge in his pants, his every ragged breath.

The door banged open, and that queer Hooded Justice burst in, yelling, "Vas is this? Vat is going on here!"

Edie cursed as Sammy untangled himself from her grasp. Damnit! She was so close! But even as he retreated, she glimpsed something in Sammy's eyes that said he was sorry they were interrupted, that something deep inside him wanted more of her feminine wiles. Edie smirked as Hooded Justice yelled at her.

Sammy would be hers. One day, he'd be all. Hers.