Headcanon Game - A To Z (NSFW)

@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."

Dreadwing can't help but shudder at those slim, lithe fingers of hers, little clawtips getting into his armor. He wastes little time, leaning down to catch her mouth in a hot, fierce kiss. "I can do that. Now... where would you like my mouth first...?"

She climbs on to the huge nest, crawling closer. Past all comforts, of berth, she finds a good seat upper on his lap, and small digits already find the seams of his armor.

" Hmm. You're very much running, I can tell. I can feel. But I might be in need of some convincing..." she grins, letting hand set over where she can feel the engine. " of course I could help, with a little jump-start, if needed. "

@air-razor

She trills, lifting her helm obligingly under the barely there pressure of claws. Watching him with a hooded look. Wings ruffling as she peeps sweetly before daring to press a bit closer. Talons gently swirling over the glass of his cockpit.

It is horny bird hours, it seems.

Dreadwing thrums and drags his clawtips along the curve of her delicate throat, enjoying the touch to his cockpit.

"Well?

verbally degrading / being verbally degraded

Definitely not | No | Not Really | Its Okay | Kinda | Yes | Fuck yes |There goes my pants | Bonus: Giving | Receiving | Both

Dreadwing will not tolerate this behavior in the slightest. It's a HARD turn-off.

In the spirit of Sexual Sunday, feel free to send 💞 + any dirty questions you may have for them on anon, and they HAVE to answer honestly!

...Dreadwing immediately feels bad, because Rung looks uncomfortable. He wants to apologize and soothe his friend, but the old mech is already explaining.

... Ah.

Slag.

It's about sparklings. New life. Elegy is the first of her sort that he has come across -- in Dreadwing's world, younglings come about from the planet itself in hotspots, and are physically fully developed. But this is not how everyone does things.

"...Rung," he sighs softly, sinking down to his knees to sit and be better at his dear friend's level.

"I never... I never meant to upset you," Dreadwing asserts lowly. "I do not see you in such vulgar ways, and I am so sorry that I am ... I am so uneducated in the biomechanical physiology of this world."

"You are more than any of those things. You are a creator, yes, but you are more importantly a mech, friend to so many, mate and lover. You are Rung. You are you. You are priceless."

He whuffles. "I have no problem making you these items. All you must do is tell me the specifics. Size, weight, material. If it will help you, I will gladly do so."

Right. Right, then, this isn’t working. Rung’s antenna flatten back against his helm as he lets go of Dreadwing’s servo and reaches up to fiddle with his oculars. He ends up unclipping them to pinch at the thin bridge of his olfactory sensor out of habit as he tries to figure out how to explain.

Quintessa guide him.

“Elegy,” he tries. “I made part of Elegy inside of me. My forge makes photonic crystals, which are the core components of a lasercore, or in modern terms, a spark. I make sparks. Like a manufacturing plant, or the Well. I spent a very long time doing nothing but making sparks, and I am trying very, very hard to prove that I am more than just— a medical curiosity or a production line or an Ornament—”

Realizing his voice had started to fray out into static, Rung clears his vocoder with a polite little click and ducks his helm. “Please forgive me for being agitated about this, Dreadwing. I don’t need to see a medic. I know what the problem is, I am just…”

@ghostlyvisage

A low, happy purr from the flightless seeker as armor flairs out and rattles quietly. "If your willing to give it.. a taste of your spike and a nice, hard frag..." Returning the nip as claws trace along his frame. "Think you'll be able to indulge me?"

One big bear paw of a hand lifts and gently, very gently runs over Ghost's back, playing lightly with seams.

"If that is what you want, I can give it. "

ODDLY  SPECIFIC  SENSUAL  TOUCHES

happy sinday y’all! feel free to change any descriptors, combine prompts, and play with context if desired. spicier prompts towards the bottom. add +↻ for the reverse! ♡

[ grope ] — sender feels up receiver’s ass [ spank ] — sender spanks receiver [ trace ] — sender traces up receiver’s stomach/chest [ kiss ] — sender trails kisses down receiver’s chest and stomach [ hickey ] — sender gives receiver a hickey [ grab ] — sender feels up along receiver’s hips [ squeeze ] — sender feels up along receiver’s thighs [ slim ] — sender feels up along receiver’s sides [ gentle ] — sender sensually presses and traces along receiver’s back [ neck ] — sender bites and licks along receiver’s neck [ nibble ] — sender bites and licks along receiver’s collarbone [ massage ] — sender gives receiver a sensual back massage [ nibble ] — sender nibbles and licks against receiver’s breasts/nipples [ rub ] — sender teases and pinches at receiver’s breasts/nipples [ lick ] — sender nibbles and licks along receiver’s ear [ mouth ] — sender kisses down the back of receiver’s neck and spine [ feel ] — sender massages against receiver’s ass and the backs of their legs [ grind ] — sender grinds against a part of receiver’s body (specify where) [ strip ] — sender teasingly pulls receiver’s pants and underwear off [ pull ] — sender teasingly pulls receiver’s panties/boxers out of the way [ naked ] — sender fully strips receiver naked [ tease ] — sender teases receiver’s ass open [ open ] — sender teases receiver’s legs open [ tremble ] — sender teasingly traces along receiver’s cock/pussy/genitals [ finger ] — sender fingers receiver [ tongue ] — sender licks along receiver’s cock/pussy/genitals [ ass ] — sender licks and bites along receiver’s ass [ slick ] — sender licks along receiver’s anus [ smooch ] — our muses french kiss while naked

Smash or Pass Optimus big mech? Smash or Pass Me~ for that matter

"...Based on political leanings, pass on the Prime. Based on looks? ... 50/50."

"And you? You are cute, but I do not know you."

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 - Redone

Send a letter and I will respond with a headcanon about the ns/fw topic that corresponds to it!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) C = Cum (where does your muse prefer to cum/have someone cum) 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 = Favorite position (this goes without saying) G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? 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? the romantic aspect) J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) L = Location (favorite 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 fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, 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 = Toys (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, etc.) W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)