"Oh, fuck. I am SO mentally ill for that man." beside your friend and fellow intern at the ARC, you sat and raved, working through a bottle of the Meade that one of your coworkers had spent years perfecting the recipe for.
You were part way through one of your more regular sessions; getting drunk with a pot of cheap macaroni and cheese while ranting incessantly about your favorite topic: the doom slayer.
"You've told me, in graphic detail, far too often."
"And you know what?"
"You're about to do it again?"
"I am about to do it again." You took another deep drink. "I want this man to take me bloody and raw on the floor while he is actively killing demons. I want him to rearrange my guts manually and force me to throat that gauntlet blade of his. I want to fuck him with his supershotgun and ride his dick while I do it, I want to sit on his face until I smother him and then let him bench-press me off of his tongue. I want him to rut into me and twist my body until my legs are dislocated, I want him to render me black and blue and make me cry with those massive hands of his. I am so fucking thirsty, I am parched, I am in fucking doggy style presenting myself to have my insides permanently deformed by the third leg of a dick I know this man has!"
Oh, and what great legs he had too, great legs and a stellar ass, an ass for the fucking record books.
He nodded serenely from beside you and drank from his own bottle.
"Okay I mean, ew, but also lowkey same."
------------------------------
You, as one of the interns (luckily a paid one), were normally sent on the worst tasks. That included going down into the basement in the middle of a DEMON INVASION to reset the breaker switches so that the building wasn't plunged into blackness.
Imagine your surprise when you opened the door to the electrical room and were forced to immediately slam it shut when something so not human in a very unattractive way decided to growl its dead-flesh breath in your face.
You were pretty sure (like at least 70% sure) that you were going to die. But instead, you were regaled with the strangely unique sounds of breaking bones as something happened to the creature that was trying to break into your room.
Whatever happened to it, it certainly wasn't trying to break in anymore.
You peeked out into the hall, cautiously glancing around at the literal trail of eviscerated demons that suddenly appeared in place of the clean linoleum flooring.
"Damn, I'll have to clean this up, won't I?"
Probably.
Definitely.
Maybe some of them had some cash on them?
It was only when a growling rumbled down the hall that your brain restarted and you realized that no matter how tempting the thought of dead demon riches were, you had to move unless you wanted your life to end.
So you ran, in the fashion of someone with nothing to lose (so a broke college student in the end of the world), in the direction that the path of complete and utter carnage led.
"Hold the lift!" you broke into a full sprint as something skidded into the hallway behind you. "Fuck! Hold the lift!"
You threw the Philips head screwdriver that you had initially used to pry open the warped edge of the breaker box. It pinged through the closing door of the elevator and gave you the last few seconds that you needed to slide through the doors on a puddle of blood.
You were fully prepared to eat shit.
But you didn't, and you were suddenly taken off of your feet and bundled against something hard as the creature that was chasing you approached the doors to the elevator.
"Oh shit! Oh fuck!" You pulled against the sudden restraints around your waist, kicking to get some purchase on the ground so that you could get yourself out of the corner you had backed yourself into.
Before you could make any progress though, you were spun around so your back was facing the oncoming threat and a deafening sound exploded next to your ear; ringing even after it was gone and so concussive that your vision flashed in its aftermath.
When your vision cleared, you scrambled against the hard surface and managed to turn around just in time to bare witness to the demon (miss you with that 'mortally challenged' bullshit) collapse onto its knees, completely headless.
It fell forward into the elevator, but before it could pass through the door, an enormous boot planted on it's chest, shoving it backwards and allowing the elevator doors to close with a cheerful 'ding'.
You followed the massive boot up an equally massive calf and thigh, over a strong core and broad chest, and finally, (far, far, oh-so-far above you) your eyes landed on the helmet of one of your biggest heroes, and also the real-life (more clothed) version of what you saw in your wet dreams.
He was looking down at you, cradling you to his chest plate with one massive hand while his famed super shotgun dangled from the other.
You of course, had your head somewhere in the clouds.
"Wow." if you asked super nicely, would he let you suck his dick in the elevator?
What did you say? 'Thanks for saving my life?' 'you look really handsome today?' 'Are you single right now?'
You were so focused on saying something that what came out was all three.
"Thanks, you're really handsome right now." Well, you guessed that worked too. "I mean-well yes I mean that but I also-" maybe you should shut up. "I assume you're here for the crucible and maybe Dr.Hayden's body?"
He gave a nod, still resting his hand on your waist and looking at you with far too much intensity even through the helmet.
"Great! Um-" your eyes fell to his belt, then to his legs; more specifically, to the space between them and- the cute little keychain? Actually you recognized it, it was a joke keychain put out by one of your favorite metal bands years ago, a cheerful little chalice of blood made to resemble a cartoon character. "Is that a Blood for the Monarchs keychain?"
He didn't say anything.
"As in, the band? I'm a bit of a fan."
And then the most incredible thing happened, he actually nodded at you, flashing a slow thumbs up that was only somewhat encumbered by the enormous shotgun in his hand.
"I knew I recognized it! Yeah, I used to have the same one, it got swallowed by one of the cacodemons a while back." you laughed, hands coming to rest on his chest plate.
You took particular note that his palm was still heavy on the small of your back and that you were still dangling from his hold like he didn't even realize he had picked you up.
You looked up into his helmet and hoped your dark circles and the splattering of blood on your cheeks didn't make you look too bad in front of the man you were so incredibly horny for.
"Uh-" fuck, his hand was huge; it was so large it practically cupped your entire back. Maybe some of your fantasies should be rearranged to include the possibility of that size. Already it was clear that his hands would wrap clear around your waist.
He was also being really, really gentle; not something you expected.
It was giving you the warm, fuzzy feeling of butterflies for the first time in...well the first time since you saw him actually.
A ding interrupted your mental panic, and you both jolted apart from each other.
You thudded back onto the food and tried very hard to look like someone who didn't just pop out of an elevator with the person they wanted to participate in unholy, ungodly sexual intercourse with.
You were pretty sure you failed.
"I'll-ah- give you the tour." You started to walk through the lab, ignoring the stares and the thunderous sounds of doomguy's footsteps.
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"So for your crucible you can just take it, the forcefield around it is down anyway but if you have any trouble you can talk to my fellow intern there, he's the software guy. I'm going to prep Hayden's body for removal."
Not that it needed much prep, you basically just needed to pop the conduit cabling off of it.
You did take the opportunity to sneak a private grin behind your hand, gosh he was the most attentive guest. He had listened to your tour so politely and had followed you without complaint.
Now that you thought about it, he was behind you most of the time. Oh shit! Did your ass look good in those pants?
You tried to be sneaky about checking to see if it did in the shiny surfaces around you.
It looked pretty nice.
Not that he had been looking.
He totally could have been though.
You hoped that he had liked it.
You were so absorbed with checking your ass- you mean, you were so absorbed with setting up the step stool and disconnecting the flexible metal conduit cables that you completely missed the sounds of the slayer approaching you until it was too late.
He came to a stop directly behind you.
You opened your mouth to apologize for the delay and promise him that you were almost done.
But then he picked you up in one hand and tossed you across the room.
------------------------------------
You landed flat on your back and scrambled to your feet, just in time to see that the reason he had tossed you like a beanbag in a game of cornhole was that a gigantic, red, glowing portal had opened up in the lab.
If the automated voices telling you that a demonic presence of threat level five had just entered the vicinity wasn't enough, the creature with an axe the size of your entire body in it's hand definitely told you that this room was currently the worst place for a person to be.
Especially if they were unskilled, unarmed, and not paid enough for this!
You pressed yourself into one of the cubbies along the wall and tried to make like wallpaper as the slayer threw Hayden's shorn body through another spontaneous portal (you had never liked Dr. Hayden anyway, he was a total dick and gave you the creeps at times).
They were about to fight.
Part of you was terrified.
The other part was downright overjoyed that you were about to see the doom slayer, the object of awe in your life, throw it the fuck down with the giant tank of a demon (who just so happened to have half a titty out).
Actually it was a shame that by the end of the fight, one of them (and probably you) would be dead, because while the demon was not on the level of the Doom Slayer, he was looking pretty daddy.
Um, Alexa? Play Gangbang by Aiesha Erotica because you were about to get fucking pounded .
And then the room erupted into a flurry of sparks, fire, and bullets.
You were not sure how, but somehow you managed to survive the majority of the fight.
You would not survive to see the end of it, however, because the doom slayer was loosing.
It was a close one for sure, and if he was at full strength, then the Doom Slayer would have wiped the floor with that asshole.
The only issue was that he was not at full strength.
He had just fought a whole building of who-knows-what to get where he was, and he was injured.
His arms were covered in burns and scars, and as he fought, you saw blood trickle steadily from under his armor.
He was also trying to keep the creature (now recognizable as one of those known as the marauders) away from you, purposely pushing him back from the side of the room that your little cubby hole sat in.
And you couldn't do anything about it.
Even as the blood pooled on the floor and the Slayer was forced farther and farther into your side of the lab, you could do nothing but remain exactly where you were, pinned and cowering in the corner.
You knew that it had gotten bad when the Slayer had backed up, standing directly in front of your cubby hole.
He faced the Marauder, somewhere off to your left.
You couldn't see the marauder.
And that meant that the marauder probably couldn't see you.
From your spot in the little hidey hole, you noticed two things, the first was that the Slayer was preparing to launch himself at the Marauder, so he was likely out of ammo.
The second thing you noted was the single shotgun shell, currently rolling on a steady, slow trajectory toward your foot.
You crouched, silent and so pumped full of adrenaline that you could feel that your pupils were blown wide.
You stared at the doom slayer through his helmet, hoping, praying that he saw you,
He did, because he did something he never would have if he hadn't.
He dropped his super shotgun.
One heartbeat passed.
Two.
And you exploded into motion.
You had one chance. In order for it to work, you had to grab the shotgun, load it, and then unload it...all in one motion.
You never realized how slow time felt when the pressure was on like that.
You loaded it in a blur, clicking the guns barrels into place and bringing it up to brace just as the Marauder realized what was happening.
You blasted off half of the fuckers head.
Of course, in doing so, you also threw yourself backwards and slammed into the ground, the kickback of the shotgun so powerful that it took you off of your feet.
And prone on the ground was not the best position when the demon that you had just blown half the face off of was (somehow) still alive.
You remembered thinking that you were going to die for the eight or ninth time that day alone.
And then a blade erupted from its shoulder.
Gore sprayed across your face, but you couldn't close your eyes to the spectacle in front of you as the Doom Slayer reared back his fist and punched the marauder to death .
The body fell at your feet, spreading bloodstains into your favorite jeans and nearly breaking one of your outspread legs with it's shear mass.
"Wow."
You were rendered completely speechless, looking up at the Slayer from under the body of his latest kill with shining eyes and a grin that (self admittedly) was probably downright terrifying to look at. You had blood in your teeth.
"I shot a supershotgun."
You burst into giggles, futilely trying to tug your leg out from under the brute of a monster on top of it.
"This is the best. Day. Ever."
You weren't sure, but you were pretty sure you saw his shoulders shake with a chuckle of their own (or at the very least an exasperated sigh).
He knelt beside you to heave the Marauder off of your legs, and then he offered you his hand, almost delicately taking yours when you placed it in his palm in order to help you to your feet.
"Thank you!" he didn't respond, and you jolted when you realized that he hadn't said a word the whole time. "Oh I mean, uh, thank you?" this time you accompanied your words with the corresponding sign language.
You didn't know a lot, but you could get by on some simple phrases.
He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then he slowly shook his head.
"Oh, no sign language then?" He nodded in response. "Well, people say I talk enough for two anyway."
You laughed sheepishly.
"Thanks, not just for that, but also for saving my life earlier and again before that. Gosh, that makes like three times in the course of-" you checked your watch only to find it was broken. "-whelp, less than a day."
You grinned up at him, and then glanced over to the glowing blue portal waiting to take him away to follow Hayden's body.
"Um, listen, I know you are a very busy man, but if you ever have some time and want a little upgrade on some of those guns of yours, I did specialize in heavy weaponry hardware and engineering in my senior year. I know my way around a barrel."
You definitely meant that with some innuendo behind it.
"On the other hand, if you're just after some...stress relief-" you scrawled your number on a scrap of paper with one of the pens you always kept in your back pocket. "-then give me a call." Your voice had dropped to a purr.
Fuck it, you were shooting your shot before you regretted missing your chance.
You slipped the scrap of paper under his chest plate, right between his skintight undersuit (you bet he looked phenomenal in that) and his outer armor, standing on your toes to do it.
You patted his chest plate and then flounced away with a cheerful wave.
"Thanks again for the best day ever!"
---------------------------------------------------
You really didn't like being woken up.
You also didn't like being kidnapped.
So when both of them happened simultaneously, you were positively overjoyed (sarcasm intended).
You were ripped off of the floor of your room (you didn't have the best sleeping habits and may have collapsed when you got back from the gym and the adrenaline from your cold shower wore off halfway through building your homebrew Lego supershotgun; now more accurate than ever!).
Still, being ripped off of the floor, pulled out of the only sleep you had gotten in way too long , and getting thrown over someone's shoulder was extremely unpleasant.
"What the-Holy fuck!" You found yourself face-to-face with a very familiar and very spectacular ass, only enjoyable for one moment before you were suddenly regaled with the sensation of all of your organs shifting three inches toward your head.
For a moment, you considered the possibility that you were about to die by some kind of mysterious g-force, literally accelerated so fast that your brain liquified and oozed out of your nose.
Your organs went back to the right place however, and you found yourself placed with the utmost care on unsteady legs, once again staring into the chest plate of a beefy, oh-so delectable cowboy steak of a man.
"Um what-wait what- what is happening?" not that you were complaining, if he couldn't wait to call you then this was going to be a very eager fucking that you would gladly take in any position he wanted to put you in.
You could have done without the kidnapping though, and without the strange, alien lab that now surrounded you.
"Hello!"
You jumped and almost shit yourself.
"Um, hi?" you could definitely be down for a threesome if that was what he wanted, but you could have used a little forewarning, especially if your partner was cybertronic or AI.
"I am Vega, the Slayer's personal AI system. We both apologize for the intrusion, but you are listed as the most qualified hardware personnel that the ARC has for this job."
Oh, so it was more business and less pleasure.
"And what job would that be?"
The slayer put his hands on your shoulders and slowly turned you around, bringing you face-to-face with the dilapidated half-corpse of Samuel Hayden.
"I can take care of the software portion, but isolating his human core and rerouting his cortexes are hardware issues. The Slayer is quite adept at repair work, but not at this level."
As you watched, the portion of Hayden that had lasted this long sparked.
Now you were the first to admit, you were quite the hornball of an individual, but you also had a 'time to work' switch.
"Are you sure you want this guy to come back? He's kinda an ass." you met the Slayer's concealed gaze and waited for an answer.
He gave a single, slow nod, regretful but certain.
"Alright then." You brushed your sweating hands off on your overly large shirt and tried to ignore that your underwear were on display for the Slayer to gawk at if he were to choose to do so. "I need a voltmeter, a soldering kit, a small hex wrench set, probably down to one millimeter, and..." you paused "expresso, like four shots of espresso on ice, two sugars and cream."
A beat of silence told you that they were not expecting you to get moving so soon.
"We can provide those things."
You nodded and pursed your lips.
"You'll also need to get him down from there, not all of us are seven feet tall."
There was the sound of the Slayer moving, and he reached upwards to remove Hayden from the field that held him.
"You know, you could have just called, a little forewarning would have been appreciated."
There was an awkward pause.
"Unfortunately." Vega started speaking, almost cautiously. "The slayer lost your number when in the field, he could not find it again."
Oh, that made sense.
"I see...was he at least upset about it?" You smirked a little.
"I believe this is the only time that I have witnessed the Slayer participate in what humans call 'pouting'".
There was a slam as, from somewhere across the room, the Slayer slammed Hayden onto a desk and simultaneously rammed his fist into one of Vegas mechanical arm conduits; causing it to groan (it was probably dented quite severely).
"I'll fix that for you later Vega."
"Thank you, it was, as humans say, 'worth it'."
"I think-" you looked over the pin diagram you had scratched onto grid paper (they didn't have any of the simulation software you normally used) "-I think that should do it."
It had been about thirty six hours of work to the tune of various metal bands, peppered with the occasional sound of heavy artillery from the Doom Slayers workout room, conversations with the pseudo rubber-ducky you had made with a tiny Slayer plush toy (the rubber ducky technique sounded silly, but it worked very well), and sporadic visits by the big man himself to deliver no less than fifteen cups of espresso over ice with sugar and cream.
Needless to say, you were shaking a little.
"Would you like me to call the Slayer?"
"Well yeah." you stared down at Hayden's body. "Can't move this hunk of junk anyway." Honestly, Hayden's body was a really shitty design.
From somewhere across the room, a pair of heavy footfalls approached.
"He's ready." you stood shakily and leaned against the desk to allow the Slayer to reach Hayden.
To your surprise, he didn't go straight for the body, instead he stopped beside you for a moment, gently touching your shoulder and swiping his thumb over a streak of WD-40 that had been left on your face.
"Hmmm? Oh yeah, a lot of his fasteners weren't rust proof-honestly who the fuck doesn't use stainless fasteners on a fucking humanoid ro-" you cut yourself off with an exhausted sigh.
"Sorry, it's been a bit frustrating."
He touched your face for a moment longer, thumb soothing over your cheekbone.
"But he should be accessible now, if you want to give it a try?"
The Slayer gently took your hands and guided you to sit in a chair, lifting the half-broken body and tossing it-yes tossing all of that hard work, into the air.
You were about to slap him when the sparks started spreading through the fortress.
"Hello, Slayer."
Ughhhh, Hayden was just as pretentious as you remembered him to be.
------------------------------------------------
They were talking about something, you weren't paying perfect attention, but you caught the drift.
Blah blah Mars, blah blah core of Mars, blah blah wait .
You knew the Slayer would hate that last bit.
You also knew that Hayden was wrong, there was definitely a way to reach the planet's core at that very moment.
You cleared your throat to get the room's attention, and the Slayer turned his eyes (er-his helmet) over to your sleep-deprived, greasy haired, zombie-esque figure; currently residing with your body half-draped over the desk you had been using as a temporary workbench.
"I may not know a lot about whatever the fuck you just said-"
You were tired enough that you didn't bother keeping the tone of sheer disrespect toward Hayden out of your voice.
"-But that really doesn't matter, because I do know a lot about hardware, and there is one piece of hardware that can access the core of mars in approximately eighteen seconds."
You spun your monitor around and tapped the screen.
"Sometimes you just need a big fucking gun."
There was a beat of stunned silence.
"You can't just shoot a hole in the surface of Mars!"
You practically rolled your eyes.
"Yes you can! It's right there!" you gestured to the screen. "The approximate power of a blast is more than sufficient, and the laser is focused enough to sustain a beam until the center is reached. It's a sound possibility, not to mention that Mars has gone kinda culty in the past few years and don't even get me started on your personal history fucking up the planet-not you Mister Doom Slayer. Is that your preferred title? I never really ask-"
A robotic arm descended from the ceiling beside you.
"According to your scans, it is suggested that you consume at least thirty two ounces of water and get at least ten hours of sleep."
"Oh!" you took the glass of water that was offered. "Thank you for that Vega, I really appreciate-" another set of arms descended and draped a blanket over your shoulders.
"Ooooooh~ it's warm." you closed your eyes and snuggled into the soft, downy blanket.
A soft touch to your shoulder brought you out of your momentary bliss, and you turned to the side to see the Slayer offering you a hand, crouched down close to you.
"Oh thank you!" you grinned to yourself and slowly struggled out of the chair, head swimming with exhaustion. "You know, you're a downright gentleman."
You totally bet he was a freak in the sheets though.
He supported your swaying body through the unfamiliar halls, the occasional voice of Vega echoing into your consciousness to remind you to drink more of your water whenever you slipped too close to sleep.
Still, by the time you got to wherever you were going, you were practically drooling on the Slayers chest.
"W-wait!" you weren't positive (because you had never been there before, despite your hopeful wishes), but you were pretty sure that the room you found yourself in was his room.
His personal room.
"This is your room, tha-" you cut yourself off with a massive yawn. "That's your bed! I can't take that!"
He ignored you and tugged on your arm gently, encouraging you farther into the room.
"But you're like a hero! You need your beauty sleep! And I can just take the floor or something! I'm used to it! Really! I'm all greasy and I haven't showered in days and-"
He must have gotten tired of you, because he plucked the (now empty) glass from your hand and proceeded to sweep you up onto his hip with one hand.
Oh, oh golly gosh, his hand was on your ass. RED ALERT! His hand was on. Your. Ass.
And wow, your face was buried in his neck and he smelled...he smelled really good. Like sage and metal and...yeah a little like smoke and blood and sweat too, but none of them in a bad way.
He carried you perched on his hip like a normal person would carry an understuffed laundry basket.
You registered (vaguely) the clink of him putting the glass down and the cool touch of really high thread count sheets on your exposed skin. Danm, had you really worked through the night in your boxers and oversized sleep shirt? How embarrassing.
You were asleep before your head hit the pillow.