Chapter Text
"Oh. It's you ."
The chassis of the great metal monstrosity coiled, pulling itself back upwards toward the ceiling. Seemingly aiming to just put as much space between you, and itself. The gleaming, baleful yellow eye squinted into a pinprick, as you thrust your hands up into a rather universal sign of surrender.
" Why did you come back?" The chassis descended again, getting closer to the elevator you still stood in. A metal claw descended from a hole in the ceiling, before grabbing onto the remaining strap of your sports bra, and tugging you out of the safety of the elevator, all the more closer to her. "Was the outside world so boring that you felt the need to test? Or maybe the Moron was right, and you truly do have brain damage, and this is just a method for you to cope with it. So which is it, [SUBJECT NAME HERE]?"
The great, flawless faceplate descended, getting right into your face. Regardless of the move to emphasize size difference, you steadied your breath. This was no different from any other time facing off against the great big mechanical monster.
You braced yourself.
Then, you kissed her, right on the optic.
Approximately 0.001 attoseconds after you pulled back, the monster recoiled, tugging itself back into that protective huddle in the ceiling. The ceiling panels and wall panels tumbled and flexed, as a robotic keening wail broadcast itself over the PA System, hurting your rather sensitive ears, before stopping a second later.
"What is wrong with you? Is your brain truly damaged? Did the outside world not contain enough neurotoxin for your tastes?" A second later, not sensing any true response other than a smattering of heat in your cheeks; the voice of the Announcer would ring out. "Objectophilia; A form of sexual or romantic attraction to inanimate objects. Individuals with this attraction may have strong feeling of love and commitment to certain items or structures of their fixation." Before with a disgusted tone, the coiled machine upon the ceiling would lower again. "You're demented. I just thought you might find that interesting, most demented, brain damaged test subjects do."
The smattering of heat upon your cheeks only intensified, as her words shot a bolt of lightning down your spine. Your posture locked up into a bashful, nervous huddle as you crossed your arms, and locked your legs together awkwardly. It was all you could do, especially because doing what you planned on doing was absolutely insane- and would probably earn you a double dose of neurotoxin. But nobody ever said you weren't insane.
Rubbing your knees together, you attempted to calm the heat between your legs, and the rather beet-red blush upon your cheeks- all while attempting to show none of it to her. It would probably just make her angry, and while that may have excited you even more it was assuredly not a good idea to do it now.
"Are you experiencing, sexual arousal, in my chamber? Why do I have a sensor for that? I'm the most massive collection of wisdom and raw computational power that’s ever existed, and I have a sensor, for seeing when a test subject is aroused.” A brief scoff, of unabashed general surprise as she seemingly forgot about what she was so angry about. Although, all good things have to end, and her sudden reverie was interrupted by the rapid dampening of your panties. A poignant second passed, before she looked back over towards you, her eye going seemingly from a curious open position- into a disdain filled dot. “This isn't a test. You have no need to be aroused. Stop it . Stop dirtying my chamber with your, filthy ape juices ."
The aperture of her eye would squint down at you, before approaching again. She really seemed to not learn her lesson. So you deigned, to launch into phase two of your plan- the noise of the elevator dinging behind you not bothering to err you from your course. A quick, sudden movement as your arms rapidly shifted from their crossed position, to wrap around her massive faceplate- which didn't go entirely as planned, and only ended up allowing you to shallowly grab it.
It was a rather dirty move- but the hug was what you truly came here for. The sounds of rushing air pricked up your ears however, as a thick, green mist rushed into the room from holes in the walls. "GET OUT GET OUT GET -OUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUT-" Before incomprehensible gibberish filled the machines words- and a audible spark signalled her crash. Thankfully however, the neurotoxin flow stopped though. Small blessings.
Now you were left with a crashed, and hopefully rebooting GLaDOS, and a rapidly clearing fog of neurotoxin. And, a rather rapidly growing wet spot inside your jumpsuit.
A gentle, silent sigh slipped from your lips.
Someone was going to have to deal with it, eventually.
Ziiiip.