ROOOOOBOT PROOOOM

[rodders]

Who: ALL ROBOTS.
Where: THE FORUM
When: RIGHT THE FUCK NOW
What: ROBOT PROM
Warnings: teenagers making out, galvatron doing his thing, a throwdown between first aid and tarn over sixshot. usual prom shit.


ROBOT PROM

the punch has been spiked, the music is whatever they could scrape together, and there’s bleachers to make out behind. takes place OUTSIDE in the forum so there's plenty of space and people can easily crash it.

prom king is optimus prime, prom queen is pipes.

please behave as irresponsibly as you would at real prom.

comment around, mingle, you all know the drill.

Comments

[lifepersists]

It's not the first time he's been too small for a mech to fit in, and this is almost as good. His venting stutters as Rampage's cord slides between his legs, grinding up against his exterior node and over the underside of his own spike. It twitches against the wet length rubbing against his own, dripping a small bead of fluid on his already messy belly.

"Please!" First Aid gasps, arching against the fingers brushing teasingly light against his opening.

His valve clenches and a fresh, needy drip of lubricant leaks out. If he can't be filled by a spike then the offer of something sounds wonderful.

[crabcake]

First Aid feels amazing against his spike, the sweet friction offset by the slick lubrication First Aid has been leaking copiously, the change in texture from valve to spike and back, the pressure of his smooth thighs... It's easy for Rampage to fall into a steady rhythm, thrusting hard forward and dragging back slowly, savouring the sensation. It drags sounds from his vocalizer, half-growl, half-moan.

Before he gets too distracted rutting between First Aid's thighs, he rubs his finger harder, circling around First Aid's entrance before sliding in and thrusting, the rhythm quickly matching that of his rocking hips.

"Mm?" he asks, not quite able to form words well enough to ask if it's good.

[lifepersists]

Primus, Rampage is a quick learner. Probably just the base programming that came with the equipment directing him to rut though. Whatever, First Aid found it good enough to gasp and arch under the huge mech as his cord slides between his legs, making a sticky mess of his playing.

His calipers clench around Rampage's fingers, rippling as they push deep, and First Aid's visor streams tears of light as he squirms and bucks beneath him. His hands, which had been clawing uselessly at the ground curl to stroke and rub the head of the crab mech's cock as his hips grind forward.

"Harder!" he moans, his own spike throbbing between his belly and Rampage's heavy cord. "Oh, Primus. You feel so good."