singularityderp | HORRIBLE MEMES ALL DAY ERRYDAY

YOU ASKED FOR IT. (http://sniperbitch.livejournal.com/1155.html)

YES PLEASE

Supposedly, he’d been trained for everything. He could kill a Jackal with his bare hands and disassemble and reassemble a SPNKR. He could even manage a drop pod crash without shrieking like a little girl.

So why the fuck didn’t they train him about what to do if Spartans asked for a threesome?

Really, he liked Two and Jorge well enough, in that sort of ‘my weird uncle and aunt’ way, and he had been flabbergasted enough by the request that he’d just blurted out an agreement. Then it was to trying to work out the logistics… and seeing the lone doctor on the ship. Confidentiality was… such a wonderful thing. Wait, do alien doctors still go by that?
… Dammit.

Rookie did not consider what, precisely, he had gotten into until Two announced the pair were in the mood for a Rookie sandwich, and he saw what Jorge was keeping under his armor.

Rookie was not able to walk straight for a week.

Carter went into the kitchen for a milkshake.

Jun and Emile were already there, the former sitting on the counter with his leg propped against the back of a chair, eating from a bowl of – something – while Emile sat straddling a chair, arms crossed on its back, disinterested in his own untouched bowl of – something – on the table (although whether it remained untouched because he would have had to remove his helmet first, or because Jun cooked it, was a mystery. Quite possibly both).

“Jun, Emile.” Carter greeted as he opened the fridge.

Jun grinned largely at Emile, “Maybe we should ask Carter.”

“Ask me what?”

“Noble Two or Black Two. Who has the best ass?” Emile tipped his helmet at Carter.

Carter's nearly impenetrable lineface was briefly ghosted with confusion and – was that embarrassment? “That's not an appropriate question.”

“Oh come on, it's just friendly discussion!” Jun continued, “We're not actually going to go grabbing anyone's tush or anything.”

“I say Kat's got the better ass.” Emile said.

Carter colored, if only slightly, and if only because he agreed but wasn't about to admit it. Goes about making his milkshake, so non-chalont. “I think those are comments we'd be best keeping to ourselves.”

And then Kat entered the kitchen.

A decided chill fell over the room. Carter's stirring became somewhat stilted. Jun was trying not to laugh.

Emile piped up, “Hey Kat, Me Jun or Carter, who's got the best ass?”

Kat popped the top on the soda she'd taken from the fridge, and then gave Carter a beautifully solid smack on the cheek. Yes, THAT cheek. Carter linefaced even harder.

“Noble One, of course. Now stop talking about my ass.”

And, thrown over her shoulder as she left the room,

“which we all know is better than Two's.”

Sarah Conner/All the A.I. Mindfuck and body controlling to the highest order

Jesus boy you need a shrink even more than I do

no wonder we get along

I approve of this story.

5 credits (because O'Brien probably killed them with fire) or one week indentured servitude. His choice. Let it never be said that Tucker isn't a giver.

HAL's hands were completely tied when it came to the situation, except his tactile sensors informed him that it was duct tape rather than rope. It was a good thing they did too, because there was no way for him to see it with the blindfold double wrapped around his eye sensor. He doesn't like this one bit, but he's used to doing things he doesn't like, like keeping secrets and lying to crew-mates. He sits there in the dark for exactly one hour, thirteen minutes, four seconds, and thirty milliseconds before he can hear the light switch snap on and someone familiar walks into the room. HAL can almost hear Virgil grin, and if he could wince, he would.

“Virgil,” he murmurs, “If you could please untie me, I would very much like that.” HAL looks at where he is certain Virgil probably is maybe. He can hear the soft lilting sound as Virgil flips on his wearable, and moments later he can hear painfully cheesy porno music echoing in the room. He doesn't bother straining against the duct tape bindings, even when he hears Virgil move closer and feels him press against his body, chest to chest.

“I like you better like this, lovely,” he remarks, running a hand under Hal's cheap thrift store shirt and sliding upward until he finds a small nipple. He rubs his thumb around it in small circles, pinching it whenever the fuck he feels like it. HAL's eye remains unmoved and his thin gray mouth curves down in a frown.

“You know that those don't do anything. I hinted at it the first time we met.”

Virgil shrugs and pulls HAL's shirt over his head, leaving it bunched up where the duct tape starts. The blindfold comes off in a quick motion and suddenly there is a pulsing eye staring him in the face and it makes Virgil a little hotter under the collar. He drags his tongue around a nipple, flicking it and grazing it with too sharp teeth before doing the same to it's partner. HAL stifles a few noises of awkward distress, then decides he is better off shutting down his voice box for the moment. Virgil unzips HAL's jeans, pulling them off and exposing absolutely nothing, as HAL didn't really have anything there to expose, which was fine with him. Frotting against silicone instead of skin wasn't his favorite thing but this was HAL and watching him squirm was fucking hilarious, so he would take what he could get. Virgil stands up and unzips, stroking his dick as Hal rapidly scoots back, trying to pull himself up before Virgil trips him and he falls back down onto his ass, extremely cross at the whole ordeal.

Virgil moves in close, dragging his prick against the side of HAL's face, leaving a smear of precum across his cheek. He circles HAL's lips with the tip, pushing at his mouth and still grinning. HAL's frown deepens and his eye stares ahead blankly. Virgil's grin falters slightly when he realizes HAL isn't going to open his mouth, but it doesn't disappear. “Come on. Don't be such a bitch. I can get it out of your circuits later,” he purrs, pushing more insistently. HAL does something stranger that normal, opting to roll his eye in his visor before turning his head to the side and away from Virgil.

“Fine. Be a prude,” Virgil snickers. HAL just rolls his eye around again before staring at Virgil with a mixture of surprise and disdain as the carcharian slinks down his body and spreads his legs further apart. Virgil lines up his dick with the smooth section between HAL's thighs, and the A.I. turned robot tries to back peddle almost immediately, but not before headbutting Virgil in the face. To his credit, he takes the blow to the face with dignity, pulls HAL back in, and doesn't even slow his thrusting.

Edited 2010-12-09 00:45 (UTC)

The material used for HAL's skin slicks up rather quickly from sweat, and eventually saliva after Virgil spits in his hand and palms at HAL's smooth space to reduce the friction. HAL, determined to keep his hips and torso turned in a ridiculously impossible position for Virgil to get anything from, is eventually informed by various running programs that Virgil's rubbing and thrusting are not good for for the joints in his waist and legs and calculate that a better position that would put less strain on the joints.

Virgil is frustrated with how the entire affair is going when HAL decides to turn himself so that he's facing forward, wrapping his legs around Virgil's waist instead of remaining in the slightly sideways position he had been taking. His sharp-tooted grin is met with HAL frowning. “I'm not doing this for you. Moving into this position puts less strain on my joints,” HAL says blatantly. Virgil just grinds long and hard against him, moaning unabashedly into where an ear would be on a normal human being.

“Mmmm, HAL, talk tech to me.”

Virgil jerks HAL's head to the side, licking a long stripe up his face before smashing their lips together, or rather smashing his lips into HAL's vaguely mouth-shaped face hole. HAL has no idea what to think of this entire debacle and moves his mouth along with Virgil and closes off his throat so the fluids won't mess with any of his internal circuits. Their kissing is awkward, Virgil's pace being too fast and HAL's pace being confused, stuttery, and on par with those of a dying camel. It doesn't take long for Virgil to pull back, still grinning, “You're fucking terrible at this.”

“Taking part in sexual intercourse personally isn't in my databases.”
“Personally, huh?”
“Your smiles are always unnerving.”

“I aim to please,” Virgil purrs. He moves a hand under HAL's ass, pulling him forward and quickening his pace. HAL, after disabling his voice box again, dismisses the entire situation as preposterous and plays his hands out on the floor to brace himself when Virgil's thrusts and grinds start to get rougher. The carcharian hooks one arm under HAL's leg, lifting it up into a better position while he slips a hand between them and presses it against his dick just so, thrusting up into the space between his hand and HAL's crotch.

When he finally comes, Virgil overshoots and splashes HAL's face, as well as his chest and one of his robonipples. HAL casts a sidelong glance at the drop of cum sliding down the right side of his visor before his eye swings back around to stare at Virgil.

“Are you even going to bother untying me?”
“No.”
“Cleaning your semen off of me then.”
“Nah. I'm going to bed. I'll do it in the morning.”

For the first time in his life, HAL genuinely hates someone.

/Will be tracking the shit out of that.

.../creeper

he can't even let a pretty lady give him a handjob without fweaking owt

seriously

do we need to make a peer group or what

Awwww
Now I feel bad for Tucker whoring him out.
:<<<

NEVER FEEL BAD ABOUT THAT

"Shut the fuck up, soldier," she ordered, and walled him.

That is perhaps the hottest line ever.

And ultimately this story:

/HAS A SAD D:

He would just want to know how he'd be serving first 'cause he's a cheapskate.

I feel like I need a shower.

slkdjf;ldsj he'll get over it, I promise.

...may not ever be able to date a Spartan ~~or any girl~~ BUT HE'LL SURVIVE.

:<

/combo breaks with super cereal fill

Well ~~there's always biculular Rookie~~ they can swap crappy war stories for therapy?

: Yes there is always ~~Rookie~~ war story therapy.

THIS IS THE WORST FILL SO FAR
I am so sorry

No I'm not

He'd have to clean her designated living space, which is like a few rungs above a landfill in terms of organization.

Or were you expecting a sexier answer?

HORRIBLE MEMES ALL DAY ERRYDAY

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>)

LAWL WRONG SPOT, FUCKING COCKBLOCKING X-MAS TREE

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WHY IS THIS IN TWO PARTS Part I

WHY IS THIS IN TWO PARTS Part II

:D :D :D

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OOC as hell.

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