Prompt Post Round 2
Rules~ Prompt Post Round 1~ Fills Round 1~ Discussion
This post is now closed to new prompts, but open to fills and comments. Post new prompts on round 3!A note: anons, your comments may not show up right away. This is an LJ server problem I can't do anything about. Rest assured that your comments haven't been deleted, they're just lost in the ( Read more... )
This post is now closed to new prompts, but open to fills and comments. Post new prompts on round 3!A note: anons, your comments may not show up right away. This is an LJ server problem I can't do anything about. Rest assured that your comments haven't been deleted, they're just lost in the ( Read more... )
“Great! Brilliant!” His optic spun cheerily. “Right, so I was trying to hack the house mainframe again-oh, don't look at me like that, luv, I was careful. Really. No sirens or anything, and look at this!” The lights flicked off and then on again. “That's not all! I can even change the telly now, look!” The television ran through a series of channels, flipping almost too quickly for her to follow.
Colored her impressed.
“Even better! Even better'n that! I can access the kitchen too!” He was moving erratically amongst the pillows, apparently having picked up on her interest. “I can run the stove and dishwasher now too. Brilliant, eh? Now I can actually do something besides sit here and watch the telly! I can, I can....sit here and um....well, you'll still have to load the washer before you leave, but you'll come home to clean dishes! And maybe...maybe dinner if you just...ah...put that in as well. And I can....you know, wait a tick and cook it right up before you...get in.”
He repositioned his panels and did his single-eyed best to smile up at her.
The thought alone was enough to soothe the lingering feelings of defeat that Chell had carried home with her. Wheatley could always manage to make her feel at least a little better. She moved to sit beside him on the couch, gently adjusting his blankets so that he could sit in her lap without getting any of the damp still clinging to her clothes on him. Water always made him nervous.
Then she gestured to the television.
“Oh! Right, my stories!” He quickly muted the appliance's sound, and switched its channel to one of the seven soap opera networks that dominated the cable in recent years. “Right, so Donna, that's the redhead you remember her? Donna, she's recently discovered that her brother's wife has this twin who's a vampire-that's such a funny word, innit it? Vampire. All sorts of different ways to spell it too. Oh, right. But she's a vampire and, the wife, not Donna, they're going to have to prove it, because she's apparently been kidnapping all of the children in the city. Can't have any of her own so she's been turning them all-”
She nodded, only partially in-tuned to his babble. It was his voice she wanted to hear. Something that would ground her, so that she could just sit. Just be.
The day's events were persistently trying to gain her attention. The strange creep who had taken to lurking outside of the warehouse where her first job was, and would simply stare at her without speaking for hours at a time, but always managed to disappear by the time she got one of the higher-level workers to look in that direction. The funny woman outside of the convenience store where she'd picked up a piece of fruit for lunch, who continually called her 'dear' and patted her hand, and told her that someday the hospital's would find a way to fix that pretty little head of hers so that she could find herself a husband and settle down properly. The elderly man in the sales yard of her second job at the junkyard, who had looked down his nose at her in mild disgust, and said directly to her face that cripples like her had no business working in civilized company, and if she absolutely had to be there, why didn't she put a little extra effort into making herself presentable.
The last one she'd nearly punched, and had to be held back by a hand on her shoulder by one of her fellow employees. Who had then asked her, very sheepishly after they were both off of the clock, if she wouldn't mind coming out to coffee.
She'd hated turning him down, but she hated the idea of leading someone on even more.
“And he's just searching. Bloody straining his head for the answer, and I'm yelling 'C'mon, mate! In any given capitalist environment the proletariat would revolt against the oppression of the bourgeoisie, and after a brief period of socialist rule, it will reemerge as a classless society governed by community corporations!'” He rocked slightly, and his panels shoved against her thighs in agitation, forcing her legs to widen and accommodate him. “You'd think it'd be common sense, but not, he just blathers on something vague about Marx and red herrings, and let me tell you, a buzzer has never been that satisfying-”
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She bit her lip, trying not to shift about as his maneuvering had jostled her out of her thoughts and back into the conversation. And into other problems. More of which she really couldn't discuss with Wheatley. Not that he wouldn't get it-after months of soap operas talking about love and lust, he would at least get the basic gist of the situation-but it wouldn't help anything, would it? They were two entirely different....whatever they were, because she certainly didn't identify with humans anymore and he was something of a sorry excuse for a robot.
“And here I am thinking, right, if time is all wibbly wobbly, then how the hell do you navigate something like that, and doesn't that prove that there could be simultaneous linear paths of time at any given point, except that doesn't make any sense-”
He was suddenly more than a little annoyed by whatever his rundown of his daily experiences had turned to, and to her immense surprise was beginning to vibrate ever so gently to give emphasis on his emotional state. She did not quite jump, because he was literally humming very close to a very private place, and quickly moved one of her legs to prop a foot on the little table to one side of the couch, rolling so that she could lean against the arm of her seat into of the cushioned back. There, now he wasn't on top of anything embarrassing.
“Comfy?” Wheatley had paused in his rant to watch her adjust herself, and she nodded, signing out that she was just a little tired was all. He blinked. “Oh, well, I can be quiet. Quiet as a mouse, luv, if you're wanting some sleep? Or maybe a bath first. Really, you should. You were absolutely sopping.” He looked her up and down. “Still are actually. Completely wet.”
She shook her head, and gave his side a little rub with her knuckles, struggling between an abashed giggle and the feeling of warmth pooling in her belly. Wheatley honestly had no idea what he did to her sometimes.
“Well. Alright.” His optic darted by to the screen of the television, and he picked back up. “So that one place with the waffle fries put out a new commercial. Their large size drinks are now the same price as the smalls, and I'm thinking well what's the point in that?” His side rocked as he rolled his optic in a fashion most droll, and ended up settling back into the area between her legs when she adjust her legs to catch him before her tumbled off of the couch.
He didn't miss a beat.
“Oh! Close call, there. Thanks, luv. But right, so the large and small are now the same, and that's complete rubbish because while it's an amazing deal, right, refills? They're free! Free refills, so really it doesn't matter what size cup you get, you're really paying for the same amount of soda, it's just how long long you're standing at a station, just sitting away waiting to be topped off. It'd be genius if it wasn't completely stupid! Which reminds me, that one talkshow-”
His voice hesitated on the new flurry of ranting and returned his gaze to her.
“Luv? You alright?” He tried to shove one panel against her closest leg in order to turn himself to face her, but only succeeded in creating a grinding motion. “You're starting to get...uh...really...really hot.”
Chell didn't answer. Her head had fallen back over the arm of the couch, and she was preoccupied with staring up at the ceiling and holding in a moan that had caught in her throat. One of her hands shakily rose to press over her eyes and the other continued petting the core seated in her lap, trying to calm him and herself. It had never been this hard before, to completely ignore the effect he had on her. It had just been a terrible day, full of all those people telling her that she wasn't, for whatever reason, good enough to be a part of their world.
And that was fine with her. She had Wheatley. She was Wheatley's world.
“Luv?”
She forced her head up so that she could peer at him from between her fingers.
“You're awful flushed. Most prominently around the cheek area. And you're temperature's rising. Downright feverish, I'm thinking.” The blue iris trailed on her in none-to-mild concern. “Maybe...maybe you should go to bed. Maybe we both should.”
Her eyes closed.
Screw it.
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“It's been an awful long day, I'm betting and-hey! Hey what are you-?!” She rolled bodily, causing him to go tumbling off of her lap and into the couch cushions. She followed after, now crouching in the couch cushions, with one knee on either side of his round body to keep him still. “Luv? Did...are you...what's wrong?”
Everything. She wanted to sign to him. Everything is wrong. But that's fine. I don't need anything else.
Chell didn't. She couldn't. It would be too hard to tell him that she had been smoothing over the truth for months, making the world seem much nicer outside this apartment than it really was. In Wheatley's eyes, people were like the soap operas and television shows and the odd chick-flick that comes on late at night. They were either kind or not, loveable or not, and only have one trait that is most prominent. The complexity of how society treats itself and its individuals was something she almost couldn't grasp. It would utterly confound Wheatley.
It didn't matter.
They didn't need anyone else.
Chell leaned in and experimentally took the corner of his upper handlebar into her mouth, just to see. He'd always had limited tactile ability, but he felt pain and pleasure in the proper degrees, and was comforted when she patted or hugged him. His programming was distinct and multifaceted. She'd never tested its limits before.
Why the hell shouldn't she?
“Oh.” His iris was a pinprick of light as he watched her, the single syllable he managed to utter filled to the brim with confusion, and speckled lightly with a dazed sort of...enjoyment. “Um...Chell...luv, I'm not sure exactly what this...ah...h-has to do with-mmm, okay that is nice.”
She grinned, and dragged her teeth along the joint where the bar attached to the curve of his plating, and earned herself a soft whimper.
“Okay. Okay, that...I didn't know I could actually feel something like that, so let's just...just back up and we'll reexamine what's going on.” He blinked several times and made an obvious effort to focus. “You're ah...well, it's not exactly kissing, because I'm pretty sure that you need lips for that. Yes, I think that is actually a requirement for the...the kissing title. However, you are doing something up there with your mouth, and I would love it if you would let good ol' Wheatley in on what you're...um...up to. Exactly.”
She ignored him, and moved to curled her body over him for better leverage, pushing him into more of an angle position so that her hand could slip inside.
“What-!” HE gave a little start, and the side panel that wasn't pinned by his own weight fluttered weakly around her wrist. “You're...luv, I don't know if you noticed but your hand...is...inside me right now and-nnnmm, did you just bite my...my...hah....”
She distracted him with her mouth, moving to swipe along the frame of his optic with one draw of her tongue, while her clever fingers began to work through the tangle of wires bundled in the small open chamber that ran though his middle. The bit she wants was in there somewhere, she'd glossed over it enough times while helping Wheatley replaced the odd bit or bob or wire with salvaged scrap from the junkyard.
The clasp was located and clicked open with a soft sound, and the plastic cover dropped out the other side onto the couch.
Wheatley froze.
“....luv?” His voice trembled. “What...what are you doing?”
She pressed a gentle kiss to the glass over his iris, and trailed her fingers over his insides, dusting them over the two buttons and reaching up to blindly examine the little dial just above and between them. The raised indents of the numbers counted up to ten, with a final line signifying a final tier. It was currently stuck on the third spot. Good enough.
She pressed the button closest to her, and Wheatley let out a strangled yelp of pain.
Her finger pulled back instantly, and she cradled him, silently running her free hand over his casing in apology. Carefully, she positioned the dial to one, and pressed the opposite button, continuing to gently pet at his metal frame. He shivered, his eye twitching back open, and gave a little hum of pleasure.
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Confused Wheatley is so adorable I need more
Please, please keep going
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More now plzkthx
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OH MY GOD, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I WOULD GIVE YOU THE CLAY WHEATLEY I MADE!
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The Smerchquotation made me smile too :D
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(And some lovely Stephen Merchant stuff in there, very good job!)
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The core's optic shutters gradually slid closed and he tilted the shut eye toward her, emitting soft noises that could have almost been breathing. Likely they were the sounds of his inner pieces working, his processors straining to understand what she was doing to him and why. She liked that idea better than breathing. Thinking of him inhaling in any way other than his recorded sighs and other noises made him feel too human, and she didn't want to lump him into the same category as the people who were so far beneath the ideal she'd come into the outside world expecting.
He gave a little sound of encouragement, shifting beneath her as if it were possible to press her hand further inside, or push the button down a little more firmly.
She smiled.
He was better than them. Better than any of them.
Chell removed her finger for a moment, the loss prompting an objection in the form of a whimper. She clicked the dial up to two, and moved to press the button again. Wheatley emitted a quiet groan this time, his optic rolling open for a moment before he stilled again, the only show that he was still online being the odd flip of his handlebars as the euphoria washing through him did its work. She gently turned him a fraction more onto his side, careful not to jar him, and ran her unoccupied fingers over the dial, trying to reason to herself that she should not rush this. Only a little more, and then she would stop. Wheatley didn't even understand why she was doing this.
Her teeth sank into her button lip. One more.
Then she would stop.
Tier three clicked loudly as the dial fell into place, but not nearly as loud as the moan that escaped the sphere underneath her. The sound went straight to the pit of her stomach, and then further down, a warmth pool of feeling between her legs. Chell exhaled in surprise at the unexpected tingles moving along her body at the sensation. Wheatley moved again, and she focused on him through the distracting haze of arousal.
“Luv?” He whispered. “I...I think...we should consider exactly...oh, that does feel rather splendid, yes...” A chuckle tumbled out of him, halting and weak. “What were we...mmmhm...” He sighed and nuzzled her hand. “You know...I think it doesn't m-much matter. Carry right on, luv. All's...mmhm for you.”
Well, how could she say no to that?
She paused for a moment, pulling back from him to watch, and his eye snapped open, looking sheepish and a little upset. He made it halfway through asking her why she'd stopped-his tone implying that he was so sorry if he'd don't something wrong, and wouldn't she please continue-before she dropped her fingertip back against the switch and he seized up all around her arm, a needy wail rising out of his speakers. Her knees turned to jelly beneath her.
Chell's lips curled into her mouth and she held her breath, shivering. She tried to adjust her body weight and movement sent a lance of heat all through her, only serving to strengthen the intensity of what she was feeling. A soundless moan formed somewhere in her throat, and she pushed her forehead against his side, thankful for the cooler temperature of the metal. This close she could make out the independent noises of his working parts. Clicks and whirrs and the odd spark somewhere deep in the core.
The faint scratch of his vocal processor as he moaned beneath her.
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Her arm curled around him and she felt her shoulders heave as she gave up and inhaled again.
Gray eyes flickered open, and her head slid along the curve of his frame until her temple rested on top of the panel circling his optic. Her chest felt heavy, her entire body was a lead weight that was becoming unbearably warm. Focus was harder to fight for. On instinct, she moved again, spreading her knees a small distance further apart, and her mouth fell open in a mute groan as her lower torso ached. Tremors danced along her spine.
She pressed harder against the button, and apparently emphasis counted for something, as Wheatley let out an artificially made sob, twisting under stimuli she could only see the results of.
“Please.” The words seemed to be taking a fair amount of work to voice. “God, please, luv.”
Four.
He jerked, burying himself suddenly in the crease between two of the cushions. The panels he'd been motioning about with as she flooded his processors with euphoria were suddenly pinned by the weight of his own weight and the confinement of his nest. A mechanized whine poured out of him at the sudden inability to move anything other than his lower handlebar (the other had become tangled in a blanket at some point and barely managed to bend either way now) and the circular frame on the side facing upward towards her.
As if to vent even the smallest fraction of the restless need that was consuming him, this piece of Wheatley's casing lifted and shuddered. She found herself unable to resist and leaned in, lining the panel's edge with kisses that involved more of her tongue than her lips.
The sphere groaned and the intensity of the sound made his whole body quake.
It had a profound effect on her as well. Her legs had gone numb, and her heartbeat was pounding in her ears. Chell rocked her whole body and all but growled in the back of her voiceless throat; the meager thrum of heat that traveled through her was good, but not remotely satisfying. She was so..ready...
Her hand was already creeping along the curve of her stomach, and once her fingtips tentatively brushed over her groin, she jerked her hips forward. The strength of the reaction was disconcerting, unfamiliar. She'd touched herself before, but it was always in the dark of her own room, leaving Wheatley out here on the couch with the television blaring. She had listening to him interacting with the screen as though the characters within could hear the advice he shouted, and had tried to find release from the world just for a little while.
Now...
Her knuckles flexed and she pushed them close to the center point of that incredible heat.
Now she could...
The tightly-closed fist Chell had made ground into her in time with a small noise from Wheatley, and the heady effect of stimulation from two separate sources nearly dropped her bent legs from under her. Everything was a throbbing mass of heat for a moment, seizing her body in that instant without warning. She made a noise this time, hoarse and desperate.
Wheatley's optic flew open, and he stared at her, his gaze steady despite the minuscule twitches that went through him every so often.
“...holy...”
It was so quiet she almost didn't hear, but by some twisted luck Chell did, and it made her hiss and drive her hips forward again. The solid contact with her fist was good, but she could do one better. Frantic, she fumbled the buttons open on her still drying work pants and fought back the elastic of her underclothing. It would be too much work to get fully undressed now, and she'd been planning to wash these clothes anyway...
...the train of thought was interrupted by contact, and she arched over his body and most of the couch.
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Chell moaned and drew her fingers along the underside of her body again. She felt swollen, tender; and hadn't she wanted this for so long? Longer than they'd been free. Almost as long as she'd known him.
A single finger pressed inside, and this time the moan was breathed out directly into the edge of Wheatley's still open optic.
“Cor blimey.” He murmured, straining his eye to the very corner of his vision. “You're...really...god, luv, you're actually all...” The core seemed unable to finish the thought, his gaze trailing down her body to where her finger had just been joined by a second and her hips were now rocking forward in a more fluid rhythm. “...my word, you are right in there...”
She adjusted her arm and realized that though she had still been putting down pressure, at some point her hand had slipped away from the button. No wonder Wheatley was regaining his ability to think.
Well. She'd have to fix that.
Her thumb ran over the button, depressing it completely and lifting again in a single motion that synchronized near perfectly with her fingers disappearing inside her and pulling out again.
Wheatley's eye rolled back, his body convulsing.
“God.” The word was throaty and she lost all of her air from hearing it alone. “I can't...barely here at all right now, luv...” Her forehead dropped to the cushion beside him, bending her shoulder up at an odd angle, but through force of will alone she ignored the discomfort and continue to stroke the button in time with her thrusts. His optic was cracking open again even as ragged-sounding audio spilled out of him, and his side panel jerked against her after every shared pulse of bliss.
She met his gaze and even that managed to cause a reaction, stiffening her frame with the sheer vehemence of her arousal.
“Did you...” He managed, voice unsteady and beginning to crackle around the harder sounds that his accent usually softened. “What do you think...ah...aaah...it'd be like?”
For a terrified moment, she wondered if he was asking about being human. And no, she didn't think about that, didn't want that. If she wanted a human, she would have gone and found one. There were plenty who were interested in her exotic physical qualities and considered the fact that she was technically mute to be a bonus. Humans were not what she wanted. The anger that seeped into her senses was only fueled by her current state, and she drove hard down onto her fingers, curling them without meaning to. Her thumb rotated with the intention of balling a fist with the fingers inside her, and moved in a circle around something that made her whole body jerk and hum. The button was slammed down against with an erratic hand movement that also wedged the dial to seven.
Wheatley yipped out a strangled noise, and battled the obvious new surge to continue speaking. Hardly able to make any coherent sentences, he nevertheless managed to gasp out: “Me inside you.”
Chell's eyes went wide and she froze, staring at him.
“Me...inside you.” He sagged against her and the couch, his casing moving as though he was trying to encourage arm through the few open lines it was afforded. Fans were whirring away somewhere inside him, and Chell realized dimly that he had been rising in temperature as she continued to use the reward/punishment system. His shutters blinked back as if they had grown weak. “Doing...doing that to you.”
Without thinking, she rocked her hips forward, then then back, sliding her fingers out while he watched.
He moaned for her.
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“Just like that.” Wheatley managed. “Me in you....like you're in me right now...I could...god, I would make you feel so good.” Incapable of resisting, she brushed her thumb over the button, and the metal ball did something that could only be described as writhing. “Mmmmake...make you feel...everything-”
Eight, and he trembled, fighting to keep his iris on her. It was the brightest she'd ever seen it in that moment.
“You would love it.” His recorded voice breathed. “It would be fantastic...”
She was going to lose it. But not before he did.
Nine.
“Mmmnn.” He rocked forward and tried to hold himself against her cheek, the frame of his optic moving as if to rub against her. Words tumbled out of him then, nonsensical save of the errant observation that she would be so wet, so tight, and he was betting he wouldn't be able to stand it. He would kiss her senseless if he could, and she sank her teeth into his upper handlebar to mute the cry that shook out of her chest at that. Chell's body could no longer hold itself up, and slid down the couch to the inner edges of the cushions. Her previously unweighted leg shakily pushed against the once forgotten side table, and the angle was good, much better than what she'd been working with before. Not that she could voice the sentiment, panting and breathless as she was with the orgasm that she knew was only seconds away.
She felt pressure against the arm nearly up to the elbow inside the little robot, and blearily looked up to see the side panel shift as much as it could out of the way so that it pressed against her skin and held its place there, minute tremors still going through it from the effort.
Muggily, she thought to herself if his narrowed eye and bright iris was a smile, if his inner parts humming and moving were his breath and heartbeat....
...then this would be how he would hold her hand.
It was that thought that sent her over the edge with a noise that ripped through her as her muscles began to seize. Before she completely lost herself, she scrambled for the dial, and wrenched it to ten, slamming the base of her palm against the reward button and holding Wheatley as close to her chest as she could. The scream that erupted from him made his entire body hum, an effect that reverberated through her and made her toes curl as she twisted about in the throes of her climax.
Then she collapsed against the pillows and blankets on the couch, barely aware that they had managed to completely muss the nest that had been there before. Wheatley did not seem at all upset by its loss, too busy heaving all of his panels outward as he tried to recover from the influx stimuli.
“That was amazing.” He managed, his voice shaking with laughter and the lingering elation. “That was...really...god, can we do that again?”
Chell tried to make a gesture at him, but her arm only moved in a boneless manner and dropped off of the couch edge. She settled for an exhausted look of mild ire, complete with raised eyebrow and downward quirk of her mouth's left corner. Unfortunately, she was still too far gone, and instead she only managed to look utterly drained.
“Later. Of course.” Wheatley amended, having recovered his functioning ability more quickly than she. “But could we?”
She gave a nod that was little more than a jerk.
“Brilliant.” The core sighed, relaxing against her rib cage. “Magnificent, that's what that was. What was that, anyway? What'd we just do?”
Chell let her eyes drift closed, trying to come up with an explanation that he would understand in time for her to pass out. The adrenaline rush was being to wane, and was being replaced by something languid and comfortable drifting through her body. Her mind wracked for a minute or so, and then with the barest twitch of a smile, she signed out a single word for him.
“Test?” He seemed both astounded and as though he had just been reminded that the grass was green. Perhaps Wheatley had already been trying to identify the rush of their mutual euphoria in terms he could associate with. “A test. Good. Excellent. ...then we solved it?”
Another curt nod, this one sleepier.
“..best test ever, I think then.” Wheatley mused, and Chell found that she agreed with him.
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