Hunting / Ambushing

send 👀 + a dirty thought and/or fantasy your muse has had about mine. let's see how my muse responds.

your muse = sender, my muse = receiver.

Send Smash or Pass + a name and my muse will say if they would smash or pass on that person.

The big Seeker purrrrrrrrs against her mouth, jet engines whirring as he returns Air Razor's kiss. His field, kept close to him frame, tangles with hers and enthusiastically shares in her hunger.

Those claws of hers slide lower...

Dreadwing seems to think about it. "Mmm... I will allow it... but only if you let me return the favor after, my sweet."

" Oh really? I wouldn't know why-" One of her arms slides around his neck. Anchoring herself to him as she kisses him with eagerness. Nibbling on the lower part of his lip plate. Wings flaring slightly with want as her free claws skate a little lower," Though I would ever so love to show you some appreciation my handsome dear." Nuzzling him as she tries to look as cute as possibly. She's certain she's ruining it with how eager her field is brushing to his own.

...Why is it so hot in here?

"Sky Claw. What is the temperature in the ship?"

"The current temperature is 12.04 degrees local measurement."

That is not hot.

@suckmybearings

He exvented when his subverted connection was abruptly cut from the ship's communication channel; an alert of failure flashed across his HUD when he attempted to call back. With a fissure of annoyance, the Wrecker knocked hard against the underbelly a two more times, and then continued to knock as he started walking to the front of the ship. "C'mon, hoss," Wheeljack coaxed in a loud, taunting voice, banging his fist against the steel hull with every step he took. "You're one of my girls, too. I got somethin' y'a need." As he rounded to the front and positioned himself to be seen, full-view, through the ship's windscreen, he reached down and unholstered the grenade from his hip.

"And one way or another, I'm comin' in."

The floor is at least somewhat cool, though it is rapidly heating up as it absorbs the excess off of his frame.

He's already tried the washrack, turning the flow of solvent off in favor of straight water (from the outdoor hookup), as cold as it would go. It felt nice while he was in there, but the second he stepped out, things just got hot all over again. And somehow, it just seems to be getting worse.

The unnatural revving of internal processes has transcended from profoundly needy to painful. Everything hurts, everything throbs -- Primus, even his dermal layer is aching. A breath of breeze feels like sandpaper against the Seekers extremely raw external sensors, and for a while he deeply considers trying to get to the hospital.

That thought is quickly dismissed. What is he supposed to tell them? That something in his head BROKE and he's so horny that it can't even be classified as "horny" anymore and he feels like he's going to have a fuel pump failure and a brain aneurysm all at once?

And what the FUCK is that noise?

"The intruder is still outside, captain," the Sky Claw's AI informs him.

Wheeljack. The rat bastard is outside, pounding on the underbelly of the ship.

Dreadwing groans.

"Captain," it repeats. "The intruder appears to be brandishing an explosive."

He's what. That gets his attention.

Despite his intense desire to just stay on the floor until he dies, the Seeker forces himself to his feet and lurches up towards the cockpit. It takes him four tries to type in the correct code (his hands are shaking something terrible) to unlock the port side quick-access door panel, but when he hears it click and hiss a bit, Dreadwing slams the hatch open, making it rattle on its tracks.

The ladder rungs, normally tucked seamlessly into the ships paneling, pop out when the door is opened.

"WHAT?!"

It's probably the most horrid and aggressive he has ever sounded.

"Wheeljack, if you are stupid enough to even think about setting that off, reconsider. I have enough explosive material in here to level this entire yard and half of the slagging space port across the street. Now, go away."

Surely a strong warrior, such as yourself, can weather this virus. Right?

"I am WORKING on it."

OH do u ever draw TFP porn.. all good if not im more than happy with just keeping my dreadwing obsession to asks pfff

Yes

The pause is brief as bright scarlet stares into intense Caribbean blue. The lowering of the helm isn't exactly submission -- Wheeljack doesn't submit -- and instead it serves as a warning, like a bull brandishing its horns.

But, he did as Dreadwing asked.

The Seeker turns away, removing himself from the white grounder's personal space without further incident. He even avoids smacking the other with his wing tip as he goes, instead tucking it down just the tiniest of breaths in order to do so (shush, Wrecker, you saw nothing -- Dreadwing is infamous for his mute, stone-still wings).

Sighing, he returns to the lawn chair sitting at the bottom of the Sky Claw's cargo ramp.

'.. Pardon?'

The question echoed throughout his helm as he stared with widened azure optics, naked bewilderment painted over his features.

His flared optic ridges gradually furrowed and his gaze searched the mech's golden fascia and crimson optics, trying to ascertain where this sudden urgency was coming from.

He lowered his helm a little, glowering at the Seeker from under his crest.

".. Pretty sure 'say my name' is my line," he said, his voice lowering into a rumbling timbre of further warning—

"—Dreadwing."

Headcanon Game - A to Z (NSFW)

Hey guys! I thought I’d so something fun this weekend, so I did my best to sexualize the alphabet and turn it into a headcanon game!

So here’s how it works. You send me a character (or a few), and the corresponding letters that you want me to answer for them!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual) G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)  J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) L = Location (Favourite places to do the do) M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I’ll have this running all weekend, so feel free to drop by!

Dreadwing very much likes knowing when a partner is enjoying his touch, and sound is a relatively reliable source of information. But not on it's own. The body has tells as well, with how it moves, and Ghost isn't being secretive. The gripping of sheets, the feeling of strong heavy legs around his frame... claws at his helm.

The Seeker pulls back to give the hunter's node a kiss, only to bite the top of one of his thighs -- enough to pinch, but not enough to draw blood.

"Lovely view," he murmurs, licking the spot his teeth scraped.

His helm fell back and he moaned, low and long as thighs twitch and legs curled around the seeker. Arching and pressing more onto his glossa, claws twisting into the sheets and shivering. It had been awhile since anyone had bothered (or since he let anyone) to pay close attention to his valve.

His valve quickly became slick under Dreadwings glossa, clenching eagerly around him and shivering. He felt good, finding nodes that didn't get touched often. One servo reached up and grabbed the Seekers helm, lightly clawing the back of it as he shuddered and moaned.