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Like how most things in Aperture go, removing Wheatley from the central control body wasn’t as easy as it sounded.
Saving him from certain doom was even harder.
But both were feats that were accomplished. Thankfully.
Even if GLaDOS was less than pleased when you pulled him back through the portal with you, both of you crashing onto the floor in a heap of repressed feelings and adrenaline.
She had granted you both safety in the facility.
Under one condition.
Okay, maybe two.
Okay, maybe more than that.
For one, you had to keep an eye on him, make sure to keep him out of trouble and far away from her. And two, you weren’t going to be there forever. You were under a strict time limit here, long enough to get the both of you back on your feet and rested, and to do something for her, but once your use and health were dealt with, you were out. Back out onto the surface and out of her home.
A deal that you gladly took all those months ago when she offered it.
Your health was easy to take care of, bandaging cuts, sleeping, sneaking back to the main office area and cultivating your own small potato garden in the emergency rooms you two had found. It’s been weirdly. . nice? Living down here? You’d never admit it to yourself under normal circumstances. But these aren’t exactly normal circumstances.
You and Wheatley have made a nice life for yourselves down here. During one of your routine checks of the old offices, you two stumbled across bedrooms. Only a few, and all identical with limited comforts, but bedrooms nonetheless. They seemed to have been made for the scientists, or possibly high-profile test subjects. You two aren’t exactly sure. What you are sure of though is that they’re easy to fashion into your own tiny living environment.
On the other side of your health, you two had set about finding a body for him around the same time GLaDOS allowed you to stay. It’d been a lot easier than either of you were expecting. Seems Aperture were already working on androids of some kind, maybe part of the new testing initiative or to fully replace the human workers.
Again, the motives behind it are blurry, like most things around here.
The body isn’t human, not even close, but it works for the two of you and he loves the thing. He’s connected to the neck of the body, his regular core casing simply connected by those same connector rods you two used in the beginning of your adventure.
He has an angular chest plate connected to arms that start off thin and sort of spindly before widening after his elbows. Circular pads rest on his palms that allow him to create portals alongside you with tubes that connect from the back of his hands to his forearms. His torso is a skinny tube that connects his chest plate to his pelvic plate with thick wires either side. His legs are long and end in heels such as your own long-fall boots with small boosters under foot.
He’s attractive.
Something you aren’t exactly surprised by.
Even before he got attached to the curvy, large hipped body, you were attracted to him. His charm and goofy manner were something you were drawn to.
You find him endearing.
He wears a jumpsuit just as you do, tied around his waist and pant legs hiked up above his knees to not restrict his braces, or worse, catch on fire from his boosters. Something that has happened before. You two were quick to make some alterations to his outfit after the initial panic had worn off.
Other than the fire scare, your health was easy to take care of.
You got a bed and he got a cool new body to run around in.
Now, when it comes to doing that favor for her, that’s harder.
A lot harder.
It’s annoyingly common for her to send you two from end to end of the facility hunting down. . something. What that something is is still sort of in the air. You’re collecting disks, you think. Again, not sure, but she seems happy when you return with them so that’s your guess.
That’s what has led you here, heading through puzzle after puzzle on the way towards another disk. You drop the final cube onto the button and let out a relieved sigh when the door finally opens.
You tap Wheatley on the shoulder and gesture for him to follow you.
“Right, right, yes of course- sorry, got, distracted. . “ you two walk down the small set of stairs towards the elevator that’s going to take you back to the main hub area.
“You alright? You’ve been sorta off for the last few chambers”
“Right as rain! Nothing wrong here, nope, nothing at allll. . “ he laughs, avoiding your gaze as he rubs at his shoulders, fidgety. Now, he’s animated, really animated but he’s not usually this, you don’t know, tense.
His shoulders are raised as he curls in on himself in the corner of the small clear tube, almost like he’s trying to stay away from you. To distance himself.
Did you do something wrong? You try to think back to the past few chambers but come up empty of any way you could have upset him. His eye is dancing around erratically in his skull, snapping between the floor, then the ceiling, then you before repeating. He runs his slender fingers along his arms, humming to himself and tapping his foot.
He has never been this bad before.
Unless, maybe when you two were first stepping foot into the murky water of your relationship and you thought it was safer to hide it from her ever all-knowing-ness.
Then, it clicks.
He only gets like this when he’s trying not to touch you.
Ah.
That’s the problem.
Alright, so, maybe your health isn’t completely smooth sailing. When you removed him from the central body, and all things GLaDOS, the two of you weren’t expecting any sort of residual effects to stay but, apparently, that body’s a lot harder to disconnect from then once thought.
Even after being disconnected and scrubbed clean of any sort of corruption, that persistent, nagging itch was still there. Not to test, necessarily, but to release. He needed that conclusion, that end, that long buildup to an explosive finish.
He still needed a solution.
At first, it was easy to solve. Let him do the puzzles instead, find brain-teasers and crosswords around the office, ask him about his interests and ask intensive questions, all things used to delay the feeling or get rid of it for days at a time.
But it wasn’t enough.
After a few weeks, it stopped working, and he was miserable.
The withdrawal was worse in his smaller body, instead of being pumped through the whole facility and making it unstable or shaky, it just made him those things. He’d shake and whine, brain filled with fog, barely able to stand some days by how bad the craving got.
But, thankfully, you two found a solution.
One that, to you, seemed pretty obvious, at least from a human standpoint.
But to him, it seemed a little insane.
He was willing to try though, he was willing to try anything, and that’s what led to you being bent over an office desk in some random wing of the facility and railed within an inch of your life.
It’d been exhilarating the first time. How much he lost himself to you. How needy he was. How desperate he was to please you just to get the feeling to go away.
He became something else when the itch took over his brain, something primal, something you didn’t even know robots could achieve.
It was irresistible to you.
You two had had sex previous to that encounter, but it had never felt so electric. So crazed or life-altering. And once you two knew it worked, you never went back.
Which is great!
When you’re alone and the craving hits.
But here, you aren’t nearly as alone as you are when in your room.
And that’s why he’s acting like this.
The doors open back up to the hub, but thankfully, there’s a small room that you two come up into, leaving you out of sight momentarily. You turn to him and cup his cheek, pulling his gaze from the floor up to your eyes as you let out a small, pitying laugh.
And he whines.
“All that testing getting to you, baby?”
“Yes” he breathes, optic fluttering half-lidded as he leans into your hold. You glance at the wall behind you that shows your progress through what she’s got in store for you. Still plenty to do, as always, “it can be quick, promise. I’ll be so quick but I can’t take it anymore, luv, I feel like I’m on fire” you know he’s telling the truth.
He’s always had a short fuse.
Could shove him down your throat and let him clog up your airways with the faintly glowing, light blue cum Aperture pumped him with in a few measly minutes but you know it won’t last long.
The quicks breaks are usually done just to clear his head enough to get him home so you can fuck him properly there. But this isn’t anywhere near home, and by the looks of the screen, you’ll still be here for a few hours at the least. He won’t be able to last that long.
“I know, baby, I know. How long do you think you can hold out?” he complains again, clearly not thrilled about the idea of having to wait for his release but he pushes through it.
“Thirty minutes. Maybe. And only if you weren’t here” he tries to joke but it comes out desperate. Weak. Pleading. It spurs you on.
“And with me being here?”
“I feel like I’m gonna stain the inside of this jumpsuit” you refuse to admit that’s hot. Even just the thought of pressing him against the glass wall and letting him hump into your hand or against your leg until he gasps into your shoulder with a twitch makes you take in a sharp breath.
“How about five minutes, can you manage that?” he nods, not trusting his throat to form words instead of strictly needy sounds.
Thankfully, you’re good at causing trouble, so you might have a solution to your boyfriend’s problem.
The two of you leave the small area and step out back into the light. Wheatley trails behind you, still struggling to keep himself upright and functional. He clenches and unclenches his hands, the small portal holders pulsing and glowing faintly.
“Oh, good, I was starting to wonder if you two had been crushed in the elevator mechanism. A feat so stupid only you two could have managed it” a path manifests towards the next door she expects you to walk through, and you follow without much care, acting casual.
Or, as casual as you can when all you can think about is your boyfriend’s cock.
Which, you’ll be entirely honest, is how you spent the majority of your journey up to this point.
So you look pretty normal to her right now.
You two pass through the emancipation grill into a new hallway you’ve never seen before. It opens into the staircase of a grated walkway that leads to a square platform surrounding the elevator.
This actually works a lot better than you expected.
Gently, you nudge against him, breaking him from his no doubt absolutely degenerate thoughts back to the present, where he startles at you and looks around. You nod towards the camera in a gesture you play off as rolling your neck and he narrows his eye at you for a moment before catching on.
He twitches slightly, his hand jerking, and then the camera in the corner falls limp on it’s stand as the lights flicker before shutting out, leaving you two in only the ambient light of the lift.
His insatiable lust isn’t the only perk that comes from being connected to the central body for so long.
At the same time, you jam one of the prongs of your portal gun into the door mechanism, jamming it in the mock portrayal of a system crash, “what? What is happening in there?”
“Uh- no clue! Everything just sorta cut out, even the elevator is out. Generators acting up again?”
“Everything is coming back fine. What did you two do?”
“Oh come on! Everything we’ve been through together and you still don’t trust me?”
“You, perhaps, but him? Not in the slightest” she lets out a sigh as the sound of beeping rings throughout the small room, “hm. This seems to be a bigger problem than I thought. Stay put, I need to go see what you two managed to break by simply walking into a room. Don’t let him out of your sight while I’m gone” oh, you won’t. You’re real sure of that.
“As usual! Don’t get lost without us” the transmission cuts, leaving you two alone in the mostly dark room as a tense silence settles over you.
Feeling pity for the poor guy, and if you’re honest kinda worked up already at the idea yourself, you leave your gun stuck in the door as you trap him against the railing.
He doesn’t put up much of a fight, none at all actually, as he becomes putty in your hands.
You feel up his thin torso, so thin you can wrap both hands around it and your fingertips will touch, as you grind your crotch against his, resulting in the loveliest of groans to tumble from his speakers.
“Yes- yes, please, fuck- please” he begs, already so desperate for any sort of contact, as he presses onto the leg you wedge between his legs. He doesn’t curse often, thinking it makes him sound too crass or vulgar, so when he does it drives you up a wall.
The simple sound of him sucking in his breath makes you hum, warmth pooling in your abdomen and curling into the heavy heat between your legs.
“What do you need? Use your words, baby” you kiss along the thicker cable that runs along his neck, trailing your teeth gently along it’s grooves as he rocks into you.
“Need you- need you so badly. Need to be inside you, need to fuck you” then, there’s other times he doesn’t mind being vulgar. And you love it. You hum, mulling over his words and keeping him on the edge of his seat, which, in this instance, is your leg.
“Do you think you deserve it?” he falls forward onto your shoulder, a choked sound getting trapped in that beautiful throat of his as he humps against your leg like a bitch in heat. Which, he sort of is right now.
There’s nothing going on in that head of his other than what he can fit his other head inside of.
There never is by this point.
He tugs at your jumpsuit with desperate hands, pulling you closer and attempting to keep you there. It’s cute, you think, but you only have a limited time here and you don’t want it to go to waste.
You pull away, with a small bit of suffering on both sides, and pull him down the stairs next to the elevator. You pull the belt from your jumpsuit and present it to him, “I’d like to tie your hands to the rail for this, is that okay?” he nods, “I need to hear words, sweetheart”
“Yes, please-” he groans your name as he sits down on the floor, legs spread as his erection strains against the front of his pants, and sticks his wrists out for you, “do whatever you want, just, please touch em” you give him a chuckle as you kneel over him, gently taking his arms into hand and tying the brown faded leather around them before latching him to the railing, keeping him in place.
His arms frame his face, optic still half-lidded as he stares up at you, plumes of hot air puffing from his vents in the increasing temperature between your bodies. You cup his chin, tilting his head up to get a good look at him.
“Such a good boy for me, aren’t you?”
“Uh huh- I sure am, ain’t I?” he shifts on the ground, trying to get closer to you, pulling you in with his new, pristine white and strong legs. You resist the temptation, and revel in his small pout of disappointment, instead opting to take his thighs into your hands.
They’re perfect holding size, slotting snuggly into your palms as you kiss along the covered expanse of his legs. Starting at his knees and working up his thighs slowly, feeling him shake under your ministrations as you lower yourself until you’re laying in between his legs, the tent in his jumpsuit brushing against your cheek.
You nuzzle against him, taking in the heavy scent of his oil-tinted musk. At first, the smell had burned your nose and made you full body shake to get rid of it, but now it only excites you, making you feel fiery red hot in your gut as it snakes in between your thighs and runs down the expanse of your legs, making them feel weak.
You palm him through the thin fabric, feeling the radiating heat curl between your fingers and down your hand.
It’s intoxicating.
He looks down at you, chest heaving with entirely simulated breaths as his iris flutters, spinning and zooming as he watches you intently. The look used to be intimidating, his blink-less stare burning into you as you rode him or jacked him off around dark corners of the facility, but once more, after so long of having him, all it does is rile you up.
All he wants to see is you, cutting out all other stimulation and focusing solely on your hands, on your mouth, on your body and those eyes he can’t get enough of.
He’s obsessed with you.
You make quick work of untying the waistband of his jumpsuit and pulling it down, helping him lift his legs to tug off the offending fabric before tossing it off to the side, leaving him exposed to the chilly air of their surroundings.
His cock twitches, electric blue and rock-hard as it weeps with thin streaks of almost translucent blue. It’s not entirely realistic, but you don’t think whoever engineered it was too concerned with that. Why they gave him a fully functioning set of junk, you aren’t sure, but you are damn happy they did.
You spit into your palm and he lets out an involuntary sound at the filthy act. He likes that, you’ve noticed, humans being gross or uncoordinated. Driven by need and instinct instead of knowledge or tact. He finds desperation just as hot as you do, it seems.
You take him into hand and start slowly, pumping his cock loosely, as you pepper kisses along his thighs. The metal is hot under you, biting into your skin and leaving impressions of heat as you pull away.
It’s addicting.
The push and pull of want, of lust, of need and desperation.
He thrusts weakly into your hand and you grip his thigh. He whines at the warning, your hand stopping it’s motions, causing him to shake his head.
“You want to be good, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry! Just feels so good-” he huffs out, voice strained and tinted with static distortion. You start slowly again, gripping his base as you rise, turning your hand as you lower and lightly squeezing his head when you rise again. It’s a dance you’re used to, one practiced and nearly perfected for the man in front of you, “-so good, so good, so good-” he rambles, turning his face into his arm, hiding himself away.
Pre-cum bubbles over your hand, slickening the slide and speeding your hand up, motions almost a blur now as you work his cock.
“Ohh, none of that, baby. I wanna see you, want to see how much this affects you. Wanna know how good I’m making you feel” with great difficulty, he pulls himself away, but still slams his optic shut. You’ll take it, for now at least, “there’s my pretty boy” he shudders at the affectionate nickname.
You switch between jacking him off quickly and excruciatingly slow, making his fake lungs beat in his chest as his metal casing burns blue, his power banks overheating and tinting the usual white a beautiful cyan that shines under the limited light you have.
Licking your lips, you lift one of his thighs over your shoulder and scoot closer, kissing the edge where his pelvic plate opens up into the small oval shaped opening that his more sensitive parts nestle inside when not overrun with testing withdrawal. He gives a small startled noise and his optic flies open.
He stares at you between his legs, framed entirely by his white as you lick a long stripe up his cock and let his head rest on your tongue until licking away the liquid evidence of his excitement.
You can feel him straining with the effort of staying still, of keeping in place and not fucking up into your throat with wild abandon and it makes you hum, closing your mouth around him and swirling your tongue along the millions of small sensors that you know make his vision go white.
You take him down easily, much easier than you did the first time, and take your time enjoying his weight against your tongue. He’s heavy and solid in your mouth, cockhead weeping with pre-cum that paints your tongue with the muted flavor of water.
You jack everything you can’t fit in your mouth, bobbing your head and pulling off long enough for air and to trail kisses along the sticky trail of your saliva before swallowing him back down and repeating the process. His arms strain against the binds.
He could break them, if he wanted, and you both know it. But he doesn’t. For the immersion, for the scene, for the idea that he really is at your mercy as you pop off of his twitching cock and kiss down to the base.
You run your lips up the path of your past actions, sticking your tongue out enough to drag but not curl or drip. Saliva coats the sides of your mouth and drips down your chin onto his balls that you kiss along the line of, coating him fully in your thick, clinging spit that connects your lips to his head and sticks to your nose as you bump against him.
You suck hickies into the bright blue, bruising it a deep navy that, on anyone else, would leave you worried, but on Wheatley only leaves your unfilled pussy aching. He throws his head back with a barely contained groan that echoes around you, bouncing off the walls and knocking around your brain like a symphony.
“Fuck- yeah, yeah, just like that- so fucking good, please, drain me, luv. Need it so bad” he whimpers, cracked lens swirling with different pulsing shades of blue as you take him back into your hand, kissing the bruises before licking along the lines of them, tracing patterns only your tongue will ever remember and his dick will ever yearn for. He’s a chatterbox on a good day, and that doesn’t change during sex, “wanna fuck that pretty throat, feel it around me- feel you twitch- god, yess, can I? Can I, please?” you hum, letting the vibrations run along him and he almost pops a spark by how hard he bangs his head against the railing.
“You promise to warn me before you cum?”
“Mhm, promise, I promise-”
“Mmm, and you promise you’ll fill me up? Have your cum dripping out around you when you do?” tremors rack through his entire frame as he nods, frantic, desperate.
“Fill you up so good, luv, cum down that gorgeous throat of yours and make you swallow around it” you laugh, lips slick with spit and robotic lube as you continue jacking him off slowly, brushing your lips along the underside of him before kissing his head, poking your tongue out to gather the rest of his promise.
Swallowing it down with a show of your curling tongue, you feel him twitch in your hand.
“Then go right ahead, baby” you swallow him back down, hands sticky as you grip his thighs and move them both over your shoulders, allowing him the leverage to thrust up into you. You take slow, calm breaths through your nose as he adjusts his pace, gradually building up from barely sliding between your slippery lips to finally smacking against the back of your throat, lost to the feeling of being engulfed in your warm, wet heat.
His balls smack against your chin, drool pooling down from the corners of your mouth and gathering on your chin, stringy lines of your service sticking you two together on each thrust before snapping.
His scent fills your airways, all your senses full of him and nothing else as you look up through your lashes, letting him use your throat as his own personal stress reliever. His own personal solution. You swallow as he hits against the top of your throat, body thinking before your mind, and he groans as your throat closes around him.
His hips stutter for a moment before thrusting back in full force. Whimpers and pleas leave him like a broken record, whines of your name playing like a mantra for you as you feel liquid hot devotion pour down your throat, sticking to your airway before being broken up by the persistent cockhead of your lover that splits the spider web of cum in your throat and allows you to breath.
You pull away, drinking in the unfiltered, fresh, horribly stale air of your sunken factory home and jack him off, letting the complicated tangle of his pre-cum and your spit mingle on your hand and smear across your cheek. You kiss up his cock again, open-mouthed and desperate to taste him, to burn his every flavor onto your tongue so you never forget it.
Never forget him.
Never forget this moment or the feeling of him claiming your body as his own. He shifts, restless, so close and yet so far. Pulled taut and delirious in his arousal.
“You look so darling between my legs, my cock between your lips and dripping with me. I need it- need you, need you around me, need you filled with me until you’re bursting-” he thrusts messily across your lips, edge of his head catching and wiping more of your beautifully addicting mixture across your top lip.
You sink back down slowly but he wastes no time in setting back to work with his brutal pace, bruising the back of your throat and running your voice raw, you’re sure of it, as he leans his head against his arm, staring down at you so longingly it makes you hurt.
Your pussy is aching, dripping with need and coating the inside of your boxers with damp, awfully claustrophobic need. It pulses within you, curling around your clit and making it twitch in it’s own craving. But you don’t dare touch yourself now, you’re too close to cumming and you don’t want to waste it, you want to cum with him inside of you. Stretching you open on his cock as you ride him, reducing him to a crying, whimpering mess just by how good you feel, “so close, darling, so close- ah-” he makes a strangled sound, would be biting his lip and rolling his eyes back if possible, but his gaze stays locked on where your red, abused lips are parted around his aching cock and his pace quickens, “gonna cum, gonna cum, shit, I’m gonna cum- oh, fuck, luv, I’m-” he shakes as you pull away, leaving him on the edge, leaving him needing more and coming up wholefully short.
He falls off into a rambling of ‘nos’ and pitiful, shaking sounds of hunger.
Of starvation.
Of salvation and solution ripped away and replaced with cold air and frayed wires.
He’s tipped off into the precipice of release with nothing to push him the rest of the way but dead air that makes him tremble, “no, nononono, come back, please- need you, need to cum, need to cum, need to fill you up-”
“But I like you so much like this” you fall back into the lazy motions of jacking him off, thumbing around the base of his head and kissing his thigh, “so strung tight and willing to do anything for me. Would you do anything for me?”
“Yes, yes, of course! Anything for you, anything- please- I just need to cum-” you trail a finger up the underside of his cock, gathering slick and saliva, and then pop it into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit and making a long show of drawing it out slowly.
“Want you to beg for it. Beg to be able to fuck me” he twitches again, a full body shiver racking through him as he nods, rambling, while you continue to leisurely stroke him up and down, squeezing at his base to keep him in line.
“Would make you feel so good, promise, want to fuck your pussy so badly. Need it so badly, hurts- hurts so much without you. I wanna be your slut, luv, please- please-” he rubs his thigh against your cheek, hands clenching into fists that pour navy and purple, “such a gem, such a darling for me, so good to me, so perfect for my cock- wanna be perfect for you too, wanna fuck up into you- ah, please-” his voice trails off into a tight-lipped whine that peaks high in his throat.
You press a lingering kiss to his still dripping head before blowing over it, making him shiver and for his leg to twitch before you sit up. You take your jumpsuit off, too pent up and nearly in pain to bother with undressing for him. You toss it in the same vague direction as Wheatley’s as you peel your boxer’s down your legs, sweat and heavy slick making it stick to the insides of your thighs before tossing them off to the side too.
You’ll probably regret getting those wet later but right now all you can focus on is the pulse between your legs as you crawl on top of your boyfriend and cradle his head, kissing under his optic and down his neck, biting lightly on his connection port stick and making him groan.
You trail your hands down his robotic body and end on his pelvic plate, taking him back into your cradling hands, the weight heavy and heat making you feel dizzy. You drag his cockhead between your folds, dipping into the heavy slick that’s accumulated and covering him with it, letting the small strings connect your coupling as you grind gently down on him.
Your clit kisses the head of his cock and you moan, the sound deep in your throat before being pulled forward by him rocking up into you, sliding along the slick, maddeningly close existence of your dripping wet heat.
The one he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about for hours.
The idea of you riding his face, or of fucking you against the wall or around a corner or fingering you with one hand shoved down your jumpsuit and the other pressed against your mouth to keep you quiet has been driving him crazy. He shifts, trying to get more into that delicious heat, trying to get closer, to feel more, to experience more and finally be tossed off the edge he’s been pulled from so many times now, but the restraints stop him from moving any closer towards relief. You cup his chin and tilt his head to look up at you.
“You’ve been so good for me, perfect pretty slut for me, huh? But there’s just one more thing I need you to do, baby, can you do that?” he nods again.
“Yes, yes, I can, anything”
“I wanna ride you so badly, god, I am fucking aching for you. I want you to fuck me so hard I shake and all I can think of is your name, I want the only thing I can feel or taste or see to be you” Wheatley laughs, desperation and leaking pride washing away for a moment of smugness.
“Fuck- yes, god, I want to feel that heavenly pussy clenching around me while I pump you full of me. Need it, luv” he drags out the need, a whine dipping back into his voice as you tug him into kiss, this one long and drawn out as you guide him inside of you, sitting down on his lap and taking a breath once he’s fully sat inside, both of you tensing with the combined effort of keeping your heads afloat, “bloody hell, you keep that up and I ain’t gonna make it much longer”
“Too bad” you sit up, leaning closer to him, right where an ear would be on a human, and whisper, “because you’re not allowed to cum until I say so” he groans as you slide back down, feeling him push against you, body cushioning around him and clenching when he presses against the part inside you that has you seeing cosmos.
You lean back on your hands as you ride him, spreading your legs and giving him a good view of where his cock fucks into you, filling you to brimming and making you feel like you’re choking. You roll your hips, milking him as you ride, watching as his shutter flutters and he lets out low pants and moans of your name alongside pleas of going faster, or harder, or to kiss him or to let him touch you.
His hands tense as he tries to reach for you, hips acting on their own as he thrust up into you, letting himself indulge and fuck up into you softly, a rythm building that you know will spell disaster if left allowed. But, fuck, he knows what he’s doing. He fucks you so good, exactly how you like, exactly how instructed and taught in the number of times you’ve found yourselves beneath each other’s clothes.
His optic falls closed as his head rolls to the side, focusing solely on the effort of making you feel good, dragging his hips and speeding up when your breath hitches or mumbling praises of ‘good boy’ each time you shudder or twitch on his cock. You ride him faster, chasing your own orgasm, feeling it approach quicker and quicker as you watch him blink his optic open, pupil dilating as he locks onto between your legs. You reach one hand forward, spreading your lips and massaging your clit as you ride him. He hides a groan in his arm.
“So pretty- absolute star. Look at you, taking me so well- fuck, treating me so well- yeah, yeah, exactly like that, just like that baby fuck, oh god, that’s so good-” his thrusts speed up again, desperate, searching, nearing their end as he gets sloppy and uncoordinated. You press his hips down, taking your hands off your own pleasure to stop his, and bite into the tough rubber of his neck, hard, feeling the material give away to your teeth and leave dents. Dents that won’t come out easily.
“I get to cum first, not you, or have you forgotten your place? You’re my toy, baby, nothing but something for me to use. The perfect little fuck toy, aren’t you?”
“Mmm, mhm, yes, yes, all yours. Your toy”
“Shit- beg for it” you’re close. You’re so close. You reach down, jacking yourself off again as you lean against his shoulder, his voice right in your ear as he whispers, desperate and whiney.
“Please cum on my cock, please, please, please, wanna feel it so badly. Wanna feel you fall apart, you feel so good, so fucking good- nothing I’ve ever felt before, need it, need you to come. Please cum for me- let my cock please you, want to make you feel good-” you hide your face in his shoulder as you press down your hips, burying him to the hilt as it all hits you at once.
A tidal wave of euphoria washes over you as you spasm on his cock, feeling it twitch inside of you as you whine, your eyes rolling back as you take in a deep breath. The feeling swarms your entire body, making you feel warm and boneless as you collapse onto his chest, hand sticky with your own slick and cum pulling out from under you, twitching as you accidently press into your oversensitive clit.
“Fuck- that was good” you laugh, snuggling into his neck and laying small, gently kisses along the side of his face. He whines your name, pathetically thrusting up into you, sparking along the lines of your body with buzzing electricity. You kiss along his collarbone, biting at the edge at the base of his neck where it leads into his internals, “go ahead, baby, use me all you’d like. You’ve won your reward”
You.
You are his reward for making you cum.
And he wastes no time in taking it.
He tugs at the binds.
“Please- please, I need to touch you or I think I’ll go mad” you remove it carefully, kissing his wrists as you do, even if they don’t scrape or bruise the same way a humans does, before tossing it off to the side and wrapping your arms around his neck.
Once his arms are free, he quickly wraps them around your middle and keeps you there as he gets his feeting underneath him, built in heels catching in the floor as he thrusts up into you, driven by nothing but pure need and lust, “fuck- yes, thank you, thank you, thank you- feels so good, so perfect, bloody hell, so warm and wet- thank you, thank you for letting me fuck you” he mumbles incomprehensibly into your shoulder. His body shakes and his arms are tight as he uses you for his own pleasure, cock fucking up into you fast and hard, mind drifting away as the only thing that matters is cumming.
Is filling you up and fulfilling his promise.
You feel him twitch and pulse inside you, pushing at places deeper than you ever imagined, making you moan and bite into his shoulder to quiet yourself as he takes you, claiming you for his own, “mm, mmm! Mhm, mhm, yeah, fuck, that’s it- just like that- yeah- yeah, so fucking good. Perfect, perfect pussy for my cock- just like that, can’t get enough of you. Want to fuck you forever, never leave this spot and fill you over and over again, so, so good- wanna do nothing but have you to myself, be able to earn you over and over again, prove myself to you- be your pretty boy slut- fuck, shit- gonna cum, gonna cum, yesss, just like that, keep going, yesyesyesyes can’t stop myself, gonna-”
“There you go, come on, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve got you” you whisper to him, kissing along the curve of his head and the ridge of his handles. He buries himself deep inside of you as he hides his face in your shoulder, and cums. You nearly purr at how warm the feeling is, his inhumanly large load pumping you full to the brim before bubbling out around where his cock is pressed inside. The light blue curves over his balls and pools onto the floor as he flickers between on and off, optic glitching between here and there as he shallowly thrusts into you- “hey, hey, sensitive”
“. . sorry” he mumbles into your shoulder. With a hum, you kiss him again, pulling him from his place of shame and bringing him close, covering his face in soft, gentle kisses and nudges. Both of you sit satisfied, the itch finally scratched.
At least for now.
“I love you” he returns the affection, bumping softly into your cheeks and chest. His best version of kissing, while running his hands up and down your back, tracing patterns into your sweat-soaked skin and following the natural lines of your body. He looks up at you with adoration and devotion swallowing his iris and pushing it as dilated as it’ll go.
“I love you too” you punch him lightly in the shoulder, playful.
“You fucking better after that” you gesture vaguely around, “ya know, that diversion isn’t going to work forever. How do you figure we clean all of this up and ourselves by the time she gets back?” you lean back, grimacing as you feel even more of his unreasonable cum push past the seal of your coupling. His optic shrinks and he looks around, then down at the two of you, then up at you.
“Uh. . heh. . I love you?” he tries, his version of a nervous smile making it’s way over his face.
“Oh, my god” you bury your face in your hands, “next time, I’m just going to tell her to take us out of testing”
“Deal”