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I was only going to write one a day, but...I had time on my hands and was inspired.
Fandom: Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles
Title: Pygmalia and Galateon
Summary: What is real and what is not?
Pairing: John/Cameron
Prompt: real
Rating: NC-17
Pygmalia and Galateon
What is real and what is not?
The question doesn't haunt Cameron the way it does John. How can it?
i love you and you love me please John don't do it
His hands are cold, her skin is warm. It's a simulation of heat, of warmth, nothing more. She's not 'real' - not a person, not human, not a woman. She doesn't love him.
She can't.
Slim limbs wrap around him, terrifyingly sure. The hips beneath his rock in perfect rhythm. If her programming reverts, all she has to do is close her legs and he's a dead man, caught with his pants down.
He pants into her throat as he moves. Breath catches in his throat. Breasts rub against his chest. Her voice rises in a pantomime of pleasure.
yes John like that faster please John oh oh yes
Her hands grip his buttocks, just hard enough to goad him. She could leave bruises, but he knows she won't. She's programmed to protect him. She's programmed to please him.
He doesn't dare wonder if the other him - the older him: wiser, haunted, bitter, desperate - programmed this into her being or taught her this in bed.
He doesn't want to know.
His thrusts grow more savage. He's losing his mind, his control, his virginity with the only woman who knows him inside and out - more than the mom who loves him but doesn't understand him, more than the girls he's known or the women he's admired.
say my name oh John please harder yes yes
They made him what he is, make him who he is with every breath that he draws, every moment he exists. If not for the T-800 who hunted his mother, his parents would never have met. If not for the T-1000 who hunted him, he would never have been fully trained in the fight. If not for Cameron, he would never have become the man he is.
She's hot and wet and maybe a real woman feels like this but John wouldn't know. Right now, he doesn't care.
He gasps her name as he comes, spilling seed into a body that can't give life.
Cameron oh god Cameron please
Entwined, they lie panting in sheets damp with his sweat and her simulation of it.
John shivers in the aftermath of sex, while Cameron's fingers slide up his back, drift through his hair, toy with his earlobe.
She's not real.
--
First time I've written Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles fic, so...slightly nervous.
--
Now back to the longfic writing...
Fandom: Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles
Title: Pygmalia and Galateon
Summary: What is real and what is not?
Pairing: John/Cameron
Prompt: real
Rating: NC-17
Pygmalia and Galateon
What is real and what is not?
The question doesn't haunt Cameron the way it does John. How can it?
i love you and you love me please John don't do it
His hands are cold, her skin is warm. It's a simulation of heat, of warmth, nothing more. She's not 'real' - not a person, not human, not a woman. She doesn't love him.
She can't.
Slim limbs wrap around him, terrifyingly sure. The hips beneath his rock in perfect rhythm. If her programming reverts, all she has to do is close her legs and he's a dead man, caught with his pants down.
He pants into her throat as he moves. Breath catches in his throat. Breasts rub against his chest. Her voice rises in a pantomime of pleasure.
yes John like that faster please John oh oh yes
Her hands grip his buttocks, just hard enough to goad him. She could leave bruises, but he knows she won't. She's programmed to protect him. She's programmed to please him.
He doesn't dare wonder if the other him - the older him: wiser, haunted, bitter, desperate - programmed this into her being or taught her this in bed.
He doesn't want to know.
His thrusts grow more savage. He's losing his mind, his control, his virginity with the only woman who knows him inside and out - more than the mom who loves him but doesn't understand him, more than the girls he's known or the women he's admired.
say my name oh John please harder yes yes
They made him what he is, make him who he is with every breath that he draws, every moment he exists. If not for the T-800 who hunted his mother, his parents would never have met. If not for the T-1000 who hunted him, he would never have been fully trained in the fight. If not for Cameron, he would never have become the man he is.
She's hot and wet and maybe a real woman feels like this but John wouldn't know. Right now, he doesn't care.
He gasps her name as he comes, spilling seed into a body that can't give life.
Cameron oh god Cameron please
Entwined, they lie panting in sheets damp with his sweat and her simulation of it.
John shivers in the aftermath of sex, while Cameron's fingers slide up his back, drift through his hair, toy with his earlobe.
She's not real.
--
First time I've written Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles fic, so...slightly nervous.
--
Now back to the longfic writing...
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