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tipsyteebs · 4 months

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I can’t wait to catch you sober, when you feel everything in perfect clarity;

How it feels when my servos pin your cute little limbs over your helm.

When denta graze your jaw line, your fuel lines, your cabling, your clavicle armour.

As I hold you against the wall, let gravity do all the work with how I grind against your ceiling node. You are so small compared to me, that I can’t even imagine how full that would make you feel. Every thrust would be a new angle, a new drag of ridges on tender nodes, your valve opening, your outer node.

I might even bite, to feel you gulp against my lips, to hear you hiss or moan beside my audial. I could cover you in dents, mark you up so not even the most desperate drunkard at the bar would so much as drop a flirtatious quip.

Maybe I’ll get you to pop your bubble in the bar next time, just frag you against its inner edge where patrons can do no more than gaze with envy as you are thoroughly railed, clawing against the smooth surface for some sort of grounding to the constant increase of pleasure. I bet you’d like that, too. A whole clubs’ worth of optics, wondering how an unassuming little guy like you could pull the baddest bitch in here, while you dribble and drip and leak with both our fluids. I certainly have no plans to stop once I finish. No, I’d keep slowly rutting up into that cute little valve till you are writhing and panting and it’s onto my spike speared into you and your own wrists above your helm keeping you from sliding to the floor, your vox long since reduced to simply fogging your dome where to are slumped against it.

I bet you’d like that, Bubbletruck~

"Aww come on... y- you can't... fragging... you can't say that slag!" Trailbreaker is reduced to an overheated mess in an instant, burying his faceplates in his servos, whining long and loudly as his secondary vents puff out overheated air.

No. No, no, no, no. He can't- can't handle this! He's chewing on his lip non-stop, swinging the door to his hab suite open and flinging himself on to the berth, burrowing down in to the mound of pillows there and not even for a second able to stop himself from humping one of the the soft cushions there.

"Nhhhh- can't- d-do that to me! What the frag!" He dragged both servos down his faceplates again, soft cheeks flushed with so much heat they were hot to the touch. Pit, his panels felt scalding hot too! He buried his helm in the mound of pillows as if that would keep the voice at bay, just his lower half poking out form the plush mound and soon squirming.

Spark racing, the outlier couldn't help it when he grew frantic enough for a panic bubble to pop up around him, forced to imagine was he was manhandled and taken roughly, bubble popping up in an instant and trapping him in a little bubble of heat and soft pillows. He let out a panicked cry, at least wishing he'd grabbed a slagging toy first!

"You- you gotta stop... come on. That's enough, right? - uh- boss? Please?" It was Echo, wasn't it? "Come on I can't.... can't slagging stand it-" Trailbreaker was so fragging turned on he'd stuffed the corner of a pillow in to his intake, chewing on it as another one was stuffed between his thighs, the bot groaning and bucking, forced to imagine that scene as he's fragged ruthlessly in front of all those other patrons, whining and wriggling on the berth, pressed up against that bubble, trapped and helpless.

#this is very unfair #where does Echo get off being so damn sexy #nsft #suggestive

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