Send 👀 + A Dirty Thought And/or Fantasy Your Muse Has Had About Mine. Let's See How My Muse Responds.

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

Hey I spoke to my therapist and he said getting fucked so hard I can't think the bad thoughts anymore is actually part of my treatment plan so I'd really appreciate it if you could accommodate that and just bend me over whenever thanks 💕

Can't sleep the clowns will eat him.

There is something intoxicating about watching someone one adores (and someone who is simultaneously so drop-dead gorgeous he can't stand it) slide down onto their knees. Kiss-nibbling their trail downward is simply an added bonus.

The Seeker sucks in a vent and lets it out slowly, but he doesn't have the restraint to be coy. His pelvic armor clicks and retracts, spike pressurizing out of it's sheath, stiff and eager.

"All of my pieces belong to you, my sweet. Every last inch..."

" Why I'd be absolutely thrilled if you did love. Now~" She nibbles him, starting to follow the path of her servo with her mouth. Sinking to her knees as she nips, kissed and teases at the seams of his armor.

Nuzzling over his hip with little bites," Open up dearspark. I very much want a piece of you." Optics glimmering with desire.

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.

Boldly, silver claws trace along the plush lips of Ghostspire's valve, toying with his entrance but never pressing inside. The other mech has a low frame temperature for certain, but even then, he can feel some heat here.

At the question, he Ghost's node a rub.

"I would very much like that."

He sighed softly, arching happily into the mechs touch. Panel slid back easily, white biolights and white node flashing a moment before dimming. Loud purr low in his chassis, stretching out more and sighing softly.

"If your offering, i'd love a taste." He purred, shifting to run sharp claws over the parts of his frame he could reach. Plating cool to the touch, small holes in the metal making the plating textured.

"Wanna see how talented?"

What is Your Muse's Sexual Disposition?

stolen from @suckmybearings

His shoulder hurts, and yet, he craves a good fuck.

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.