UNUSUAL NSFW ASKS

...well, it's his turn to be 'horny on main', as the kids say these days.

// Dreadwing is a service top.

Not mentioning for any reason at all.

For a moment, he looks at those biolights, marveling at their momentary beauty, before they are gone in a blink.

But still, there is a mech left behind, someone so lovely, in his lap. Or, almost, anyway. Dreadwing shakes his helm a bit, and gently bunts against Ghostspire affectionately.

"I want a kiss," he murmurs gently, big jet engine purring, "If that please you?"

He settles quiet happily into Dreadwing's grip, actually shifting to settle on the mechs lap. Cool frame and plating filled with little holes and pockmarks, stary biolights flashing for the briefest moment.

"I do consent Dreadwing. I'm perfectly fine with vanilla, just happy to be spiked or do the spiking. Though at the moment Id prefer to be spiked." Sharp claws slowly trail down the thicker seekers arms as he purred.

"Is there anything in particular you'd like?"

It’s a lazy, golden haze of an early morning. The sort of morning where lounging in bed doing next to nothing is only made better by sharing it with someone else. Rung’s glasses have been forgotten on the nearby table, but he’s shifted from recharging against your side to straddling your undercarriage, thighs pushed wide apart around your far larger frame.

His servos are warm from being held in yours, and careful, too, as they trace along seams and parting lines.

When he stretches up for a kiss, his bared valve rubs against your armor with a wet squeak that makes him laugh and shift back to lick at the smear he’s left behind.

“I’ll fix it,” Rung promises, servos wandering lower to caress your hip-joints, your modesty plating, as he ends up between your legs, sea-green optics glowing. “You just relax, brightspark. You do so much already.”

It was... such a good night.

Dreadwing has taken his time with Rung. There has been no hurry. It is true that the blue and gold Seeker comes and goes, and there is always the chance that he may come across some obstacle in the multiverse that that he cannot overcome. But, in his opinion, that maybe was never worth rushing things.

The little orange mech has his family -- his support system. He has Megatron and Elegy and countless other close ties and friends. If anything were to happen to Dreadwing, Rung would be okay. He never doubts this.

So... he has allowed himself this comfort.

As is his nature, Dreadwing had lavished Rung in attention. Helm to pede, he'd smothered him in touches and love, and had received the same -- they're both service partners in their own way. But it was nice. They had spent the night tangled together, giving and taking in equal measures until the lines blurred and neither of them knew which way was up. All they could do was feel.

And then they rested, until the soft purple-blue of dawn stains the sky and casts the room in a balmy, inky light.

Unlike Rung, Dreadwing has no removable privacy panels; his retract, slotting away with a thought, so the concept of leaving one's underwear off (as it were) is foreign to him. Thus, the wet squeak catches him off guard, forcing a chortle from his frame.

He will be stealing that kiss regardless.

"There is nothing to fix," the Seeker rumbles in his deep timbre, optics low, like a wine dark sea.

"Good morning."

@sparkchamber

While he is very concerned over this revelation, it is wildly apparent that it isn't what his ... friend?... lover? ... it isn't what Ghostspire wants to deal with at the moment. Dreadwing can understand and appreciate his stance, and he will gladly make the hunter forget whatever unhappiness he brought up in asking that question.

Ghost is clutched close as the Seeker returns the kiss, hot and needing.

"Tell me what you want," he growls softly, one hand cupping up between the mech's thighs. "And open up for me."

He reveled in the feel of his sharpened denta, some plating flaring out to let out excess heat. A soft rumble of high-powered aerial engines left him, helm tilting back readily to let Dreadwing do as he pleased-

And giving a sigh when the mech asked about his wings.

"Yes, I did," Leaning back slightly to look at him. "A very long time ago. Some of the sensors still work, so you can touch to your sparks content." Leaning in closer and giving Dreadwing a hungry, demanding kiss. He wanted to get fragged, and he was not going to let the lack of something stop him.

"You want to ask more questions it can wait until after I'm fragged so hard all I can do is scream your name." He said it with a low growl, pressing more firmly against the mech.

Anonymously (or not) send sexual fantasies your muse has had about mine 💣🧡💦

"Is everything allright? You sound... struggling. Need me to come over?"

Sorry. The old Seeker doesn't reply.

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.

@ghostlyvisage Well don't mind if he do- Just gonna settle himself real close to the bigger seeker, not quiet sitting on his lap. Stretching out slightly and grinning. "Yyyeeeessss?"

Dreadwing pulls Ghostspire closer, strong hands gripping.

"Do you consent? I am not especially exciting, but I am interested in ....engaging with you. And, as always, consent can be withdrawn by either party. So fear not."

He is horny.