Overload Denial
overload denial
Definitely not | No | Not Really | Its Okay | Kinda | Yes | Fuck yes |There goes my pants | Bonus: Giving | Receiving | Both
Edging has its place, though his patience for it is very limited.
More Posts from Sin-cxde and Others
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!
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 can't help the soft, heady moan that leaves his lips the moment her mouth touches him. He'd be lying if he was not a bit overly excited, having been eagerly anticipating this. Air Razor is oh-so talented, too...
Fluid bubbles up and dribbles down from his tip, sliding down the ridged length of his shaft as she works.
He groans, helm dropping back. "Ah... please..."
" 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.
"Use my name!"
The shout is sudden, and laden with emotion.
"My name is not chief, it is not tiger, it is not champ."
They are close, now. Dreadwing leans down.
"Say my name, Wheeljack. Please."
There's a long, long pause. Then, Dreadwing turns to regard the Wrecker.
Thirty-three feet and more than fifteen tons of Seeker suddenly, slowly, advance on Wheeljack.
"I mince my words for no one. Least of all the likes of you."
Dreadwing instantly closes the space between them, but doesn't crowd the Ornament. Instead, he sits on the other side of the couch, watching him with a worried expression.
"You are needed," he gently asserts. "You are coveted, also, as a friend, a mate, a parent. But you are not only here to be devoured. You are not here for the benefit of others to the detriment of yourself."
The Seeker takes in a vent. "The easy way is not always ... the right way. What do you want? From this place, from us, from me? What can I do?"
{ @sin-cxde }
"Which do you want to be?"
Curled up in the corner of the sofa, Rung peers out at Dreadwing from under the arm over his face. His oculars sit abandoned on the nearby low table.
“I don’t know if I have a preference. I need others, but I also want to be needed. I am usually something to be… consumed, coveted. I let others put what they want on me like a mirror. It’s easier, that way.”
He'll sleep one day. Sure, he may hallucinate first, but, eh, been there, done that.
