#swerve x reader

[bugboioli23]

Hey guys! Been a while but I’m doing better now! I missed you all, so here’s our fav bartender sending you a selfie of him jorkin it

[pinkanonwrites]

Always Tip Your Bartender

MTMTE Swerve/Human Reader, 2000 words, GN Reader, Valveplug, Oral, Begging

I finally stopped procrastinating on this and I'm so glad I did cause I really enjoy it. Here's Swerve getting his spike sucked AND his valve ate as a treat.

Primus, you were going to kill him. Or break up with him, which would pretty much accomplish the same thing cause Swerve didn't really know how he would live without you. 

Either way, he was dead. And he had no one to blame but himself.

The evening had been going so well. You'd always insisted how much you enjoyed watching him work, and he was more than happy to have you sitting at the edge of the bar, dangling your feet off the side and chatting with whatever bot occupied the nearest barstool as he flitted around taking orders and refilling drinks. Whenever he'd brush past you'd hit him with that brilliant smile, the one that made him go all weak in the processor and wobbly in the knee joints, before playfully waving him off, insisting he gets back to work. 

Was it incredibly distracting? Yes. 

Had he broken several glasses while admiring you? Also yes. 

Would he ever want you to stop? Not in a billion cycles.

But tonight had been particularly busy, and maybe Swerve hadn't been able to give you quite as much attention between orders as he usually had. A concept that had completely slipped his mind until the moment Whirl raised a single claw and pointed you out across the bar.

"Don't look now, Chatterbot. But I think Fizzle over there's making a move on your fleshy!"

Spinning on his heel, there was a tight clench in Swerve's tanks when his optics landed on you. Fizzle stood, drink in servo and elbow strut propped on the bar, leaning more than a little bit too close into your personal space. Every time you seemed to shuffle back he moved closer, and though Swerve wasn't the best at reading lips he could tell by the furrow for your brow and crinkle of your nose that you were not enjoying the conversation at hand. He tossed the tray he was holding onto Whirl's table and ducked through the crowd, dodging flailing elbows of dancing patrons as he hurried back to your side.

As he neared, the drone of chatter and thumping music gave away enough that he could finally begin to pick up snippets of your conversation.

"I mean, everybody's curious!" Fizzle slurred, identifiably sloshed just by the way he spoke. "Just cause you don't hear bots talking about it doesn't mean we're not all thinking it."

"Look, dude, I'm not really comfortable with you asking about-"

"So how's it work, huh? Barely the size of a mini-con and you can still get spiked down by one of us? Swerve's kinda puny, yeah, but he's like twice your size! Got a real greedy little valve, don't y-HGGK!?!"

The next thing Swerve knew, Fizzle was laid out flat on his back at the edge of the dance floor. It took the sudden, hushed stares of the surrounding patrons and the sting of his knuckles before Swerve realized that the one who had punched the words out of Fizzle's slimy, inconsiderate intake was him. 

"Swerve!"

Oh Primus. You did not sound happy.

"I was- he'd just-" He stammered, making aborted hand gestures in between you and himself and the 'not unconscious but fairly woozy' Fizzle. "I don't, uh, he uh, really shouldn't be talking like that."

You hopped down from the bar and stalked over to him, gripping the edge of his forearm plating with an unexpected force and tugging him in the direction of the storeroom. He could have resisted you, if he wanted to. But he let himself be led away instead, pedes scuffing and dermas trembling as you tugged him along. The rolling din of the bar began to pick up again as you moved away, and Swerve could swear he heard Whirl yell something sarcastically supportive over the rumble of the crowd. A sound that was quickly cut off with the resounding metal slam of the storage room door.

“Um… H-Hi, sweetspark. Angel. Light of my life.”

“Get down here.” You snapped your fingers, pointing to the ground. Swerve slowly took a knee.

“Look, about Fizzle. I’m sorry, okay! I know I shouldn’t have hit him like that, I just couldn’t let- MMPFH?!~”

But before he could finish his desperate apology your lips were meeting his own, fingertips gripping and caressing the sides of his helm and brushing a ticklish trail along his armor. Your tongue lathed across the seam of his dermas and he couldn't help but open his intake to you, servo falling instinctively into the curve of your spine as you deepened the kiss. He let out a low, needy rumble of his engine when you began to pull away and you chuckled.

“Whu… Whuh?” He managed to force out, his processor still halfway caught between the realization that you weren't actually mad at him.

“I can't believe you actually punched him. In the face. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.”

“So you're not- mmfh,~” His train of thought was only slightly interrupted by you pressing another wet kiss to his dermas. “Not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? He deserved it. Plus, I got to see my big, strong bot standing up for my honor.~”

“Ohhhh, thank Primus.” Swerve slumped his helm into the crook of your neck and let out a relieved groan, half from his own emotions and half from the pleasant tickle of your little fingers toying with the exposed cabling just beneath his helm. You had put a foot up on the bend of his thigh in order to reach him properly, and his servo gave your butt a soft squeeze when it came up to support you. “Thought you were gonna tear into me back here, to be honest.”

“Aww, did I worry you?” You pressed another fluttering kiss to the curve of his jaw. “And here I was thinking I should be giving you a reward instead.” He shivered as your lips traced just below his audial. A familiar clang and a muffled curse reverberated from Swerve, the unmistakable sounds of his spike pressurizing behind its panels. “That sounds like a yes?”

“Hoo yeah. Absolutely. Yes please. Whatever you want, sweetspark.”

“Wanna say yes a few more times?” You joked, sliding from his grasp and sinking slowly to your knees in front of Swerve’s modesty panel. As your fingers traced over his Autobrand the panels snapped back with a snikt and his chubby spike pressurized eagerly into your hands.

“Do you need me to?” He babbled through a wobbly grin. “Cause I will! I'll say whatever you want me to say if it'll keep your hands on me.” 

“...Y’know what? Yeah. I like that. Keep talking for me, baby.”

“Y-Yeah? I can talk all da-AaAaaAayy!?” His words choked off into a glitchy, garbled mess as you teased the underside of his head with the tips of your fingers. “Oh, oh! Mmmhmm, ahh! That’s se-sensitive…”

“I know, baby.” You cooed. Your fingers traced the biolights up the length of his spike before smearing the bead of transfluid at the tip wetly across the head. Swerve’s panels rattled as he shuddered, digits clawing absentmindedly at the door he was braced against to keep his hands from gripping his own spike. “That’s what makes it good though, isn’t it?”

“Mmh! So mean,” A low curl of steam hissed between his dentae.

“You love it.~”

“M-Maybe… Hngh!~” He gasped as you pinched the head between two fingers. “Ah! Ah! O-Okay, I do! I like it! Please, just- Ohhhh…~” He trailed off into another garbled mess as your lips wrapped around the tip, teasing the slit with your tongue. You took as much of his spike into your mouth as you could, stroking the rest in a tight fist as you swallowed around the solid, unrelenting obtrusion. The sharp metallic screech of his fingers gripping the door was only drowned out by his whines and gasps, staticky glitches increasing which each bob of your head. Drool and pre-fluid trickled from the corners of your mouth and down his length, further slicking your hand. When you pulled away with a wet, shaky breath, Swerve thought his spark was going to pop out of his chassis right then and there, valve cycling desperately around nothing as you pressed a slick kiss to the underside of his spike head with a barely audible moan.

“Swerve.” You murmured, your eyes hooded and glossy, your lips still grazing his spike.

“Yes?” He responded, twice as desperate and equally as enamored.

“Spread your legs for me. Push your hips out a little more.”

He let out a low, whimpering groan, widening his stance and pushing his hips out from against the wall. You ducked your head further, keeping a tight hand around his spike as you dragged your tongue up the length of his valve. 

“Ohh!~ Oh, oh that’s- ahhhh, ah, ah!~” Swerve did his best to fight the urge to wriggle, stabilizers shivering with need as you buried your mouth in his plush folds. Each time your nose bumped against his anterior node he let out a hiccuping gasp, transfluid dribbling  from both his tip and his valve as his calipers cycled around your intruding tongue. “It's so soooft, y-your mouth, I can’t- MMH!~ Oh, oh, please I- please make me…”

“You wanna cum?” You murmured, lips still pressed to his valve as you furiously stroked his spike, the rhythmic shlick shlick shlick almost drowned out by Swerve’s whirring fans and desperate whines.

“Yes, yes yes please! P-please, I want it, I want- AHHH!~” His vocalizer pitched up into a staticky howl as you took his node between your lips and sucked, hard. He glitched and wailed, helm thunking back against the door as his spike pulsed again and again in your grip, thick waves of transfluid shooting over your head and splattering against the store room floor. His valve clenched rhythmically, more translucent, pinkish fluid spilling down your chin and neck in kind. Only when he stopped shivering beneath you and fell limply back against the door did you draw away, fighting the prideful smile that tried to crawl across your face at Swerve’s ragged venting and still-flickering visor. You rested your cheek against his plated thigh, stroking the other with the hand no longer cradling his flagging spike. His helm lolled forward a bit, clarity beginning to blink back into his optics as he gazed down at you. Suddenly he let out a sharp gasp, one servo flying to cup the back of your head, digits splayed and feeling around frantically. Then he let out a soft, relieved sigh, the desperate groping of his servo slowing into something absent-minded and soothing.

“Whew. I didn't get any in your hair.” A quiet chuckle slipped through his dermas as he twiddled a bit of your hair between two digits. 

“Got it a few other places though. Not that I'm complaining.” You made a show of wiping your fingers across your chin before drawing them into your mouth and lapping them free of his fluids. He shivered, a delicate blue glow rising to his face plate, split wide in a crooked smile.

“C-careful now, or you might get me all charged up again. Then we’ll be here all night.”

“You’re saying that like you think it'd be a bad thing.” You teased.

“It wouldn't, if I didn't have to get back to work soon…” Swerve trailed off, that gentle glow beginning to rise into a furious blush. “How, uh… How much of that do you think they could hear?”

Beyond the door you could just barely make out a congratulatory cheer in a voice that sounded just a little bit too close to Whirl’s. His celebration seemed to be working up the crowd, and soon a resounding cacophony was echoing through the storeroom door. Swerve’s free servo flew up to cover his face plate, helm clanking back against the door as he let out a humiliated groan.

“Oh Primus. I'm never gonna live this down.”

[rungssparemodelpieces]

Human, taking a seat at Swerve’s: “Excuse me, bartender, I’m hoping for a bit of a recommendation.”

Swerve: “Sure, whatcha like?”

Human, smirking and giving a wink: “I’d like a short, chatty drink of a bot.”

Swerve, fans blowing hard as he pulls the fire alarm: “Everybody out, bar’s closed!”

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Hi may i please request swerve trying to be the human liason on the lost light's wimgmech untill they jump grab his shoulders do a pullup and smooch him.

Thank you! Hope your flights arent horrifically delayed.

Thank you for the request, and sorry for how long it took to finally get it out lol! Coincidentally my flights ended up being okay despite the hell I went through to get onto the planes.

I put a lot of thought into this request, and I wasn't entirely sure what you meant with Swerve being the reader's wingmech, so I went down this route. I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it's on the shorter side. Thanks again! :D

Wingmech

Pairing: IDW Swerve x Human Liason Reader

Word Count: 2181

Summary: After noticing you are lost in love with an anonymous mech, Swerve decides to help you prepare for going after the secret crush you have.

  Swerve has been watching you for a while now.

  It’s not uncommon for the Lost Light’s crew to focus on you. You are, after all, the only human aboard the Cybertronian exploration ship. Though you’ve been here for months, no bot can help but find you fascinating. And Swerve? Well…he’d never admit it to anyone, but his interest in you goes well beyond mere fascination. Yes, you're small, smaller than even him. Yes, you're soft, and squishy, and adorable, and sometimes he really wants to scoop you up into his arms and kiss you right on the lips after confessing his love-

  Okay. So maybe he has a bit of a crush on you. But that’s all it is! A crush that compels him to  keep tabs on where you go and what you do. He’s learned about you from the various conversations he’s listened to during busy nights. He knows you adore dogs and melt at the sight of cats (What are dogs? What are cats? Like hell he knows. He isn’t particularly caught up on his Earth knowledge). He knows you like to turn in early and wake up late. He knows you aren’t exactly a party person, and sometimes being surrounded by robots three times your size is incredibly overwhelming. And following that little tidbit, he understands you don’t like coming to his bar.

  So why are you here now?

  He’s watching you while he makes drinks. Your little form is tucked away in a corner at one of the smaller tables reserved for minicons, hunched over a notebook, eyes focused on the pages of written material he can’t read. Even when he zooms his optics in, your writing is far too small for him to coherently pick up on from this distance. With one hand propped against your cheek and the other idly tapping a pen against your head, you look far too troubled for someone who’s currently spending time in a place where all troubles are drunken away. It makes him curious and concerned. Why would you, someone who hates large crowds and loud environments, be writing in such a place?

  He needs to get to the bottom of it.

  Now, he knows what someone might say about this: “Swerve, it's none of your business. Swerve, they clearly don’t want to be bothered. Swerve, eavesdropping is bad.”

  Well, you know what he would say to all of that? “I’m a bartender. My business is everyone else’s business. That’s what being a bartender entails.”

  So yeah, he’s snooping. But it’s all for a good cause. Being around you is worth it. He’ll always take the chance to talk to you if he can.

  “Whatcha writing?” he asks when he pops up behind you with surprising stealthiness. You let out a surprised shriek and nearly jump right out of your seat. He barely catches a glimpse of your notebook’s contents before you slam it shut and cover it with your arms.

  “Swerve!” you yell, fleshy human cheeks flushing a wonderful pink color (Oh, how he loves the way you blush like that. He wants to make you do it more). “Don’t scare me like that!”

  “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. You humans make the cutest sounds when you're startled.” He folds his servos behind his back and leans forward a little. “I don’t see you in the bar often. A place like this isn’t really the best for writing stories, ya know.”

  You sigh and slip your notebook into the knapsack you always carry around. Darn, he thinks, how will your secrets be spilled to him now? “I’m not writing stories. I’m just…doing research on something.”

  “Research,” he says. “In a bar.”

  “Yes. Research in a bar. Is that so hard to believe?”

  He does a quick scan of your features. The blush on your cheeks has deepened to a shade of red that almost matches his paint job. You're fiddling with your knapsack and guarding that notebook with your life. Suddenly, it comes upon him like a tidal wave; his smile widens with the victorious air of someone who just won a medal. “Oh, I know what's going on here,” he says. “You've been spying on someone, haven’t you?”

  Your reaction only further proves his theory. You look horrified, and the way you frantically rush to defend yourself is like a bright neon arrow pointing directly at your head. “What? No! Nonono, why would you think that?!”

  He laughs. “Oh, you totally are! Your notebook is probably chock-full of evidence, amiright? Wait, don’t tell me! Let me guess!”  He circles the table and plops down across from you. “Is it Ratchet? Nah, too grouchy. Cyclonus? Mm, too weird. Oh, oh! It’s Rodimus, isn’t it? It has to be Rodimus!”

  “What are you talking about?” you ask him.

  He leans forward and smirks. “You're in love, little one. Am I right, or am I right?”

  “I-I’m not-there’s no-” You stutter for a moment longer, then get a hold of your emotions and reel them in. Sitting back and going stone-faced, you stare at him with only the color of your blush signaling what you are currently going through. “I’m not in love.”

  Does it hurt to know you have a crush on someone who isn’t him? Absolutely? But telling you that would mean admitting the feelings he has for you, and no way is he doing that now. His spark aches with the sting of rejection, but he hides it well and decides messing with you will make him feel much better. “C’mon, squirt. You can’t lie to me. It’s as clear as day that someone on this ship has you smitten.”

  “It’s not someone on this ship. I’m a human.”

  “You being a human and us being mechs means nothing. How many months have you been aboard this ship?” He counts off his digits. “Two? Three? No, it’s been five months, hasn’t it? Five months with us and your little spark has finally decided humans just don’t compare to mechs anymore. Aw, how adorable.”

  You look like you want to jump across the table to snap his intake shut. Instead though, you slump back in defeat and groan, rubbing your hands across your face. “Is it really that obvious?”

  “To me? Yeah. But that’s only because I’ve picked up on your reactions. Plus, the fact that you came here to jot down ‘notes’ means…” Now he gets excited. “It has to be someone in this bar.”

  You regard him cautiously. “And what if it is? What will you do about it?”

  He shrugs. “Nothing! My job is to pour drinks and listen to people’s woes. What kind of reputation would I be giving this fine establishment if I were to go around tattling on my loyal customers?” He taps his index digit against his dermas. Scrap, this is really going to hurt him. But he wants to see you happy. “I could help you, you know.”

  “Help me?” you echo.

  “Yeah, why not?” he forces himself to say with enthusiasm. “I’m always ready to help a pal! I’ll be your wingmech! How’s that sound?”

  A wide smile splits across your face and you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle. “Wingmech? Seriously? That’s so cheesy, Swerve.”

  By the Allspark, hearing your laughter is music to his ears. He’s envious of whoever you are crushing on. They’re one lucky mech to have someone like you chasing after them.  But he swallows down his jealousy for your sake and puffs out his chassis proudly. “Cheesy or not, I’m sure I can help you woo your future sweetspark. All you gotta do is learn to use a little bit of the ol’ Swerve charm and bingo, this bot will be yours in no time. So, whattaya say? You wanna employ my humble services?”

  You bite your lower lip and look down at your knapsack. “I don’t know. The Swerve charm may not exactly work on the mech I’m thinking of.”

  “Aha!” He stands up and points at you. “So you admit you're in love!”

  You give him a pointed look. “Alright, alright, fine, I admit it! Yes, there’s someone on this ship I really like. I’ve been writing down things he may or may not enjoy so I can come up with ways to show him that…that I want to…askhimout.” This last part comes out as a weak mutter. It’s obviously difficult for you to admit it, but oh boy is Swerve glad you have.

  “So it’s a he. Hm. IIIInteresting. Mind telling me what he’s like?”

  You smile. “Well, he’s outgoing. And very enthusiastic about what he does. He always has an upbeat attitude and definitely knows how to make me laugh. Some might think he’s a bit of a wise-ass though.”

  Swerve chuckles. “Sounds like a real dream boat.”

  “You…have no idea.” The way you say it sounds strange to him, but he doesn’t think any more of it. You drum your fingers against the table. “What…what would you do if you wanted to tell him that…that you like him?”

  I wouldn’t. I’d tell you I like you and no one else. “I’d probably do something bold. Something that would really grab his attention, ya know?” He thinks. “Does he like you back?”

  “Well, you see…I-I think so? I’m not sure. I talk to him a lot, but we’re…kind of different. I’m definitely not like him, but we get along. The more I hang out with him, the more these feelings grow.” You stare at your hands. “I don’t know if I should be admitting all of this.”

  “No, no, it’s okay!” He’s quick to reassure you. “I want to help! Seriously! I said I’d be your wingmech, and I’m going to uphold my word! So, let’s think! You think he likes you, and you definitely like him back. He’s the extroverted type, bold and brash…so give him a show! Really show him that you want him and you to be together, and you appreciate all of the good company he’s given you since you boarded the ship. The key is to really hit him here.” He thumps his chassis. “Right in the spark. It’s all emotions, squirt! Nothing else to it!”

  “Emotions, huh?” Once again, that odd look crosses you. “Do you think we could…practice?”

  “Practice?”

  “Yeah, like, working on what I’ll do when I finally admit my feelings to him? Would that be okay with you?”

  “Oh, yes, totally!” He stands up. “C’mere, let’s go through it. Think about what you want to say, and then act it out to me.”

  You stand up as well and walk over to him. Looking down, he sees just how small you are compared to him; you barely make it up to his chassis. You study him, biting your bottom lip. You look so nervous. It makes him want to be gentle.

  “Don’t be shy,” he says softly. “There’s no reason to be. It’s just you and I here, yeah? No one will pay attention to us.”

  You draw in a deep breath. “Okay, Okay.” Shaking out your arms, you fixate on him determinedly. “I’m not going to say anything. I’m going to do something. Is that okay?”

  “Oh,” he says, a bit confused. “Sure, yeah! What are you going to do?”

  You take a step back. Then, you jump forward, and he’s startled when you grab his shoulders and pull yourself up. His optics widen when you lean in and give him a short kiss. Every mechanical nerve in his body sings when he feels your lips on his, and he seems to lose control of himself, becoming nothing more than a statue.

  Then, it’s over. You let him go and drop back down, taking a step back and looking at him anxiously. He stares at you, air whooshing in and out of his intake as his systems attempt to cool.

  “It’s…It’s me?” he whispers.

  You lower your head and nod.

  He can’t talk. He can’t make a sound. It’s only for a good few seconds, but when he finally regains control of his vocalizer, he begins to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And then he’s picking you up and spinning you around in a tight hug. “You like me!” he cries. “You like me, you like me!” He couldn’t care less if anyone else in the bar is watching this. The one he’s been crushing on for months has been crushing on him back!

  You laugh along with him. “It took you this long to figure it out? I’ve been dropping hints since we started this conversation!”

  “That’s why you’ve been doing research in the bar! Primus, how did I not realize it sooner?” He holds you back so he can see your brilliant smile. It makes him melt. “I can’t believe you really like me,” he whispers.

  You cup his faceplate in your hands. “I’m guessing your happy about it, Mr. Wingmech?”

  He kisses you again, leaning into your touch. “Well…looks like my humble services paid off.” He pauses. “So…what did you think of the Swerve charm?”

[robolvrr]

I loved your swerve x gn human bartender headcanons. Do you have any more headcanons for swerve x gn human if you do please share them ❤️

two bolts in a pod! ᴗ｡✷

swerve x gn! human reader headcanons.

thank you anon! enjoy.☆

"i.. you actually like listening to me talk?"

"... hey ratchet, check this one's processor! think they mighta hit it or somethin'..."

on the note of a human crew member it's common consensus that swerve is part of the many that have an intense interest in you as a species.

however, if you do happen to enjoy his company and questions and puns -- consider him your personal jester.

he gets so, so dramatic whenever you aren't fused at the hip joint. suddenly his shifts feel long and he's lamenting to his other cybertronian crew members which while is endearing to some in the way any lovesick trainwreck is, is incredibly annoying for others.

has helped make a stool at his bar for you, sized to scale.

there's this funky little staircase at the end of the table to help you up (since he doesn't want you squished in between mechs) that doesn't match at ALL.

spends an embarrassing time cycling stories ready to tell when asked. he frequently bites his fist because he thinks it's going to be boring, but you're in awe because hello, this is space and there are giant metal hot aliens.

you try to teach him to dance once. minibots are stockier, so seeing you bend and twist is as enchanting as it is perplexing.

it ends with him almost slipping and crushing half the bar but hey! your little laughs and snorts are more than enough to stroke a bruised ego.

brags. so much. when you develop nicknames and inside jokes.

"did you know that they call me and only me hotshot? huh? did ya?"

it's easy to just. lie to him regarding questions on humans. he's no means gullible but imagine he asks a normal question like "why is it called a tailbone" when you have an anatomy rundown and you confidently say you actually have a long, fluffy tail that only comes out every blue moon.

cue him researching through his limited sources (cough cough movies) to see where he missed THAT detail.

speaking of movies: will make you watch his collection before asking for yours.

enjoys lots of 80s sci-fi and cheesy b-thrillers.

expect him to whisper in your ear as you sit on his knees like a cute, nervous directors reel.

tries to get you to match those colorful clothes with his plating paint.

wh - romantic? him? nooo, it's just a friendly thing? a total cybertronian thing. uh huh. yeah. unless you'll know - wait no, don't clarify with brainstorm-

falls helm over pedes when you start giving him stuff. old, vintage bobbleheads. records and sports vanity jerseys and engraved shot glasses.

the courting gestures between your kinds are so different and alike it makes his coolant heat. you could be just beaming because you've alphabetically and flavor organized his stock records and he's here wondering how to sparkbond with a human without killing 'em.

my personal headcanon - he sits you on his shoulder when he's going around passing drinks. think of those bodybuilders and pretty models on the beach photoshoots. primus, he's down bad!

i see you getting spoiled rotten in all aspects, platonic and otherwise. he loves, loves all your reactions and expressions. has to sit in his habsuite and think about some venting exercises so he isn't buzzing in your presence all the time.

[writeyouin]

Swerve X Reader – Quiz Night

Description: When Swerve is exploring Earth in his holoform, he finds a movie quiz where he meets you and quickly falls in love. Set in a Transformers Prime AU wherein Swerve went to Earth with the Autobots. LIGHT SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

A/N – Okay, so every fortnight, I go to my local cinema’s movie quiz and I’ve had this scenario in my head since I started going to that. I just wanted to write this for me to try and get back into writing on my days off from teaching.

Also, there is a Steve who wins every week. I am determined to beat him just once.

Warnings – MILD SMUT / NSFW.

Rating – M

Swerve looked around the small café, wringing his hands anxiously. He felt all too aware of his holoform, sure that any minute now, every human in the room would see him for what he really was and that his life would turn into a B-Movie wherein the FBI and CIA would chase him down, shooting everything they could at him until he was captured and tortured for information. And why not?

Something similar had happened to Bumblebee before he met Charlie. Why not Swerve too? Then again, the Autobots had a base on Earth now, and Swerve was confident in the use of his holoform… though this was the first time he’d tried it outside his hab-suite in the base.

Then there was the other thing. If Optimus knew that Swerve was wasting precious energon to maintain his holoform all because he just had to get out and see some humans up close- Well, sufficed to say, the big guy would be pissed.

But it was just one night. Surely, Swerve could justify that. Even Cinderella got one night out. Alright. For tonight he would be Cinder-Fella. Or at least he would be if he could find somewhere to sit.

Honestly, when Swerve jumped into the little cinema on the promenade, he hadn’t expected much, he’d just wanted to see it. Then, he headed upstairs and saw that they were setting up a movie quiz, and he just couldn’t resist entering. It was only a dollar to enter and he’d found the occasional bit of cash on the street, so why the hell not?

Yet, as Swerve looked around the café on the second floor, he realised that he was not a part of this community. There were several friend groups, most of who seemed to be regulars and who were riling up the other teams obviously used to the atmosphere, and there were no empty tables, just a few spare seats.

Gathering up his courage, Swerve loped towards your table, seeing that you were the only person on it.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here? I sorta came here on impulse and well- Y’know,” He gestured around at the lack of available tables.

“Oh, sure,” You said agreeably, putting your phone down. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Swerve,” He introduced himself, feeling less shy at your friendly demeanour.

“Huh, unusual name,” You commented, not unfriendly in tone.

“Oh, y-yeah. Unconventional parents.”

“So, no team, Swerve?” You asked, changing the subject to make him more comfortable.

“No, uh, first time. I didn’t even know there was a quiz till I got here. How about you?”

“I had a teammate but she just texted that she can’t make it. So, I guess I’m on my own tonight unless you wanna team up.”

Swerve stared blankly at you. He couldn’t believe that you were being so nice. Then again, you barely knew him. He was certain once you got to know him, you would find him as annoying as the other Autobots did.

Seeing his hesitation, you held up your hand kin a Scout’s promise, “I promise to share any prizes we win.”

Swerve felt his human obsession taking hold and his energon pump thrummed excitedly, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

When the quiz started, you thought you were good at movie trivia, but Swerve shot you out the water. He was even better than the quiz champion Steve, who generally won every week. The only thing Swerve seemed to struggle with was the years movies came out, though that was because Cybertronians measured time differently, and you did well enough at those, getting most right.

“Wow,” You chuckled at the first break between rounds. “You’re insanely good at this. You’re even beating Steve.”

“Steve?” Swerve asked, worried that he was someone you were interested in, even though he had no reasonable claim to be jealous.

“Yeah, he’s the old guy by the counter. He wins a lot, but he’s a good guy. Always shares his prizes. I think he’s just in it for the social aspect, y’know? A lot of people here are. It’s a nice little community. Plus, this is the only thing we have against the big cinema… There’s no heart in that place.”

“No kidding,” Swerve hummed, fascinated by you and your energy. “So, (Y/N), tell me about yourself.”

You smiled, thinking about how comfortable you felt around Swerve. He seemed like a nice guy. You filled him in on a few details of your day-to-day life. In return, he responded with a few facts about himself, though he was sometimes vague, unable to tell you the truth behind his Cybertronian life.

He told you that he was a scientist in a government base; this wasn’t a massive stretch from the truth since he was a metallurgist, using his skills to help the Autobots against the Decepticons, though he stayed far from any battles, generally being a house-mouse.

You were impressed with his work, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the high-status job. Then, the next round of the quiz began and the two of you were back on the same wavelength as teammates.

The quiz questions were set in a bingo card formation, giving everyone a fair shot at winning, so despite Swerve’s movie prowess the two of you didn’t win anything until the third round, wherein you were awarded two cinema tickets, free to use for any film.

At the end of the night, standing outside the cinema, you held the tickets out to Swerve, “Here, you can take these. You answered all the hard questions.”

“No, no. I can’t take them. I mean, it was your table and you helped a lot, and you come here all the time and I’m just-” Swerve began nervously babbling and you grinned, finding him cute.

You grabbed his hand, handing him one of the tickets, “Alright, fifty-fifty split. But hey, if you’re not doing anything next week, I was gonna come and see the seven O’clock showing of the new fantasy flick. You could join me for that if you wanted.”

Swerve nodded dumbly, thinking how warm your hands felt atop his.

“Great, it’s a date. See you then.”

You walked away with a bounce in your step. Meanwhile, Swerve stayed there, unable to move while he wondered whether you meant a date as in a real, romantic date or whether it was just a turn of phrase. Either way, for the rest of the week, he was quiet and distracted, unable to get you out of his processor.

When Swerve next snuck away from the base, using his holoform once again to meet you he fell in love. This was not the first time he had fallen in love, since he formed attachments quickly, but it was the hardest he had ever fallen, fascinated as he was by your world and species.

The two of you sat down to the film, and Swerve felt his brain freeze when you rested your head on his shoulder halfway through the film, grabbing his hand and entwining your fingers with his. It took him a few seconds before he stiffly let his cheek rest against your hair which was so, so soft.

“I had a really good time with you tonight,” You said quietly as the two of you filed out into the cool night air.

“Me too,” Swerve replied almost giddily as he drank in the sight of you.

You pulled a slip of paper from your pocket, offering it to Swerve, “Here, call me.”

Swerve unfolded the paper, finding your number with a little heart doodled next to it. He flushed red, becoming even more flustered when you pecked his cheek, lingering for a second before you said goodnight and left him there again.   From there, you and Swerve went on several more dates, though he always avoided dinner dates, being unable to eat, and then things between the two of you got serious.

Swerve knew this was wrong. When you’d asked him back to your place, he should have said no. He should have never started any kind of relationship with you in the first place, but now things were getting serious and beneath all the excitement, he was ashamed of himself. What would you do if you knew who he really was? What he really was? Yet that didn’t stop him from sloppily kissing you, listening to you gasp when his erection pressed against your thigh. He was addicted to you and he was being selfish. Worse, as the intimacy built and you gave yourself to him completely, Swerve couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I love you,” repeating the phrase as he kissed your neck, and again when your body was pressed against his, and again as the two of you cuddled afterwards. He held your body against him during the night, stroking your exposed skin while you slept. He loved you. He loved the idea of a relationship with you. He loved that you had said the words back to him that very night. But ultimately, love wasn’t enough. Yes, he loved you in a million ways, but he couldn’t trust you. He wanted so badly to, but after he had betrayed your trust so thoughtlessly, he was too scared that if you found out what he was all of your love for him would evaporate. In the twilight hours, nearing early morning, Swerve received a communication from Prime, demanding his presence back at the base. Swerve sighed. First and foremost, all Cybertronians had a duty to their faction, and though Swerve wanted to put you first, he had to go back. If he stayed out any longer, he would have to explain his many long absences. He was a scientist and his duty was to the Autobots. He kissed the back of your shoulder, took a minute to find a paper and a pen, then left a note on his pillow stating that he wished he could stay but an emergency at work had come up. Then, glancing longingly at you before leaving, Swerve felt one last flush of shame and disgust at himself. No matter how much he loved you, he was using you to make himself feel better, and he knew he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t.

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Swerve x Reader Blurb: The Panty Raid

Gender neutral reader, racially ambiguous, very short, Swerve being a pervert

Swerve was kind of glad he could fit in the human quarters. 10 feet of minibot was probably as short as a mech could be but with the humans on board he felt massive. It was so strange being so much bigger than someone and he honestly didn’t expect to find it so endearing.

That’s probably how he ended up in his situation with his servos digging through your laundry.

Swerve found the shirt you wore yesterday to work out and brought it up to his olfactory sensors. The armpits of the shirt was still a little damp from your time at the gym. He ran his tongue over the sweat mark shivering at the salty taste of your skin still left over on the shirt coupled with the sweet taste of your deodorant made his engine rev.

Swerve sniffed every inch of that shirt before gently placing it next to your hamper and started digging through your soiled garments once again. His servo hooked on something small near the bottom. He pulled his arm out of your laundry basket only to stare at his prize with wide optics.

Your underwear.

Your used underwear.

Swerve held both ends of the elastic waistband in both his servos displaying his find before him. His optics were glowing brightly through his visor in excitement. The fabric was so soft and the pattern was so cute. Really, you could wear anything and Swerve would find it cute because it was on your body.

He looked over his shoulder plate to make sure your door was still shut before indulging in his new found treasure.

Swerve brought the crotch of your underwear to his intake giving his glossa a once over. The deep musky scent of your genitals remained on the fabric and Swerve could practically taste your sweet arousal on them. His engine revved in delight as he bunched the fabric against his olfactory sensors. His spike was practically leaking behind his modesty plate.

Swerve fantasized about cumming in your underwear. You’d hold your pants open for him as they bunch around your knees. Maybe you’d be rubbing his spike for him.

“I love your spike,” you’d say desperately. “I love you!”

Swerve doesn’t know how long he’d be able to last with his spike in your hand. Could you even get your hand around his spike? Fuck, you were so small and cute!

He’d be moaning your name desperately bucking his hips into your hand until his overload hit him. Glowing pink fluid would erupt from his spike making a mess of your underwear. It leaked down over the leg holes of your underwear making a mess in your pants. Being the gentleman he is Swerve would offer to clean you up but then you’d pull your pants up and rebutton them. His transfluid now snug against your arousal. Your pelvis practically drowning in his overload.

Swerve moaned into your underwear at the thought of you going about your day with his overload in your pants. His overload inside of you, on you, on your face, your chest, your hands.

He spike was fully pressurized and pushing against his modesty panel just thinking about your innocent face. You have no idea he’s doing this. You talk to him and joke with him so happily while completely unaware that he’s been sneaking into your room while you work to sniff your used clothes.

[cybertronian-reader-imagines]

How would Rung, Drift, Rodimus, and Swerve help a fellow bot deal with loss and loneliness during their time on the Lost Light?

((It's not really made clear in this if Reader lost someone due to death, a bad breakup, or something else, so take it however works best for you!))

TW: Mention of religion (no points for guessing which bot brings it up lol), mention of alcohol-like substance

Everyone aboard the Lost Light was running away from something. For you, it was the only person keeping you on Cybertron slipping away, leaving a crater in your spark that made a ship full of crazy seem pretty good, actually - it was, at least, better than being alone.

You have the good sense to actually talk to Rung about this, and he's very encouraging. Maybe running wasn't the best way to deal with the grief but, well... What's done is done, the ship ain't about to turn back to make you face your emotional problems. On the bright side, meeting new people would still be the best solution back home, and there's plenty of people to meet here! He encourages you to give yourself the time and space to grieve, but not to lock yourself away either.

Drift, bless his spark, seems to think the solution to all of your problems would be converting to Spectralism - a new paint job in colors representing renewal and honor is a great way to deal with loss lingering in the spirit, he says. You're not so sure about that, but you let him give you a makeover anyway, and just getting to share stories of your lost loved one while he works does help. Not to mention a little self-care at a time like this goes a long way.

Rodimus is basically the opposite of Drift. Instead of helping you talk your feelings out, he's there to distract you from them as much as you need, whenever you need it. Want to watch this really confusing Earth movie Whirl insists is the best thing fleshies ever made? Want to see how long it takes the two of you to drive Ultra Magnus (and later, Megatron) insane? Want to go on an incredibly stupid adventure? Done and done - he gives you a much needed break from working through all of it every waking cycle.

You'd expect Swerve to be a lot like Rodimus in this respect, but it turns out he's actually quite the listener, and even cuts in with some shockingly thoughtful advice from time to time as you sip your drink, on the house. "Honestly, you couldn't be in a better place to feel lost and alone," he says. "From what I've heard over this bar, the Lost Light could have its own theme song about that... Sometimes, I think I have more therapy clients than Rung." You wonder if he realizes how little he's joking.

[tinydefector]

Swerve: traditionally, humans gift chocolates and stuffed animals, as a display of hunting prowess and ability to provide, on the fourteenth of February. This is because a deity named saint valentine is said to bless conjux pairs on this day.

-bumpinSUV

Traditions

Swerve x Human reader

Word count; 1k

Warnings: none

Heeeyyyyy Bumpin got some food for you~. Enjoy some clueless and hopeless romantic Swerve becuase I said so.

_______

Swerve stared down at the clunky plastic earth animals and chocolates clutched in his servos, completely befuddled. It had sounded like such a good plan when he came across it! But now, facing his human, uncertainty crept in. He offered an awkward chuckle. "Uh, happy February fourteenth! I know on Earth it's tradition for you guys to, uh, exchange dead animal carcasses and sweets as a romantic gesture. Something about showing you can provide, I think?" 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Swerve hoped he hadn't misunderstood. Or offended them! Primus, why was organic culture so weird? "So, uh, I thought maybe you'd like these gifts. Even though mice probably aren't a big hunting prize for humans." He cringed internally. At how embarrassed he was. "S-so, what do you think? Did I get the tradition right? Or should I just forget the whole—"

They give Swerve a slight look as they cut him off. "Swerve, why would you need to hunt?, plus it's July if my callander is right " They ask while looking at the stuff Swerve had set up, it looked as if he was trying to organise a date for them, it was a rather cute little set up more so than past people they had ever dated before, Their words fall silent as they take in the scene. 

Wincing internally, Swerve fidgeted under their searching gaze. Frag, this was even worse than he'd feared. "Well, ya know, I did some reading that Earth Valentines is about showing you can provide for a mate. And I know I ain't got much to offer organics, but I wanted to try!" He held out the gifts in his massive metal hands, practically trembling. 

"I know it ain't exactly a feast or nothin'. But I saw these toys and thought, maybe they'd pass for some small game? And the chocolate's real! Well, not made of real chocolate, more like synthechoc. But it's what I could get you!" 

Slumping with a sigh, Swerve knew he must look utterly foolish. But they deserved his honesty. "Look, I just wanna show ya I care, okay? Even if I'm lousy at Earth courting."

"My courting..." they go quiet for a moment before starting to giggle which turns into laughter. "Swerve Honey, Valentine's day, is in February. It's a day to spend with loved ones and enjoy each other's company, sometimes trade gifts to special people, which most are fake flowers and sweets" they continue to giggle softly. "What did you think was handsome?" They ask with a smile.

"O-oh." Swerve felt his plating heat as their laughter sank in, truly mortified. He should've just stuck to energon pouring and storytelling, left the Earth traditions well alone! "I, uh, may have misunderstood some cultural exchange files," he admitted bashfully. "Thought it was about proving yourself as a good provider! You know, strong and capable." 

He scuffed his pede sheepishly. "Maybe shoulda just asked you straight out, huh? Instead of all this." Swerve gestured ruefully at the mess of toys and candy. They smile and grab his servos. 

A warm glow flooded his Spark at their smile, though. Maybe he hadn't fragged it up totally. "So, uh, does that mean...you'd still consider spending time with me? We could watch a flick, share some high grade—" He cycled a vent, fans whirring. "I just wanna make you happy, anyhow I can. Without any mouse-hunting required."

They laugh lightly as they move towards him. "Swerve, please it's OK, calm down" they call out while waiting for him to sit down so they can at least touch his faceplate. "Yes you probably should have come to me to ask about it, but now I'm more interested in who told you about Valentine's day." they hum while pressing a kiss to his nasal ridge. 

Swerve's vents stuttered as their lips brushed his plating in a gentle kiss. "W-well, you know how it is - a mech hears stuff in the bar sometimes," he replied shyly, fans whirring as they caressed his face. "I think maybe Rung was telling Rodimus about Earth traditions, and overheard Whirl say something about hunting prowess being important for it." 

He groaned, covering his optics. "Frag, I should've known better than to trust second-hand cultural osmosis from that glitchheads, i justed wanted to do something special for you." Lowering his hand, Swerve gazed down at them hopefully. "Sorry about the mess, forgive my clumsy courting attempt? There's still a whole stash of synthechoc with your designation on it." 

He's still sheepish as they laugh at him, their hand trying to keep it in and not embarrass Swerve more. " Maybe you could, um, give me some proper pointers? About Earth holidays and such? I'd really like to get it right next time." They give him another soft kiss which he melts into.

 "Think we might have to talk about human holidays, and Swerve I don't expect you to have to follow human stuff. You know that right?" They ask softly tracing his face.

Swerve leaned happily into their gentle touch, systems buzzing with joy. "I know, I know. Don't gotta do human things if they don't make sense," he conceded affectionately. 

"It's just..." He vented softly, captured by their smile. "I wanna understand where you come from, y'know? Be able to celebrate the special days that are important to you. Share in your culture."

His fans hitched as their fingers traced the seams of his faceplates. How did they always make him feel so calm yet alive all at once? "So maybe lessons would help this fool bot out, huh?" Swerve ventured shyly. He nuzzled into their hand with a lovesick sigh. "I just want to be able to spend time with you doin things that are important, that's really all I want, sweetspark. To be wherever you are."

 "Alright, how about we set up your hab and watch some vids.?" They inquire with a sly smile on their face.

Swerve perked up, any trace of embarrassment melting away in his eagerness. His engine gave a happy rev, hope blooming in his spark. Clapping his servos together, he bounced on his pedes like an excited sparkling. "Oh frag yes, I'll fire up the holoprojector right away!" 

In an instant he had them swept into his arms, cradling them gently against his chassis as he strode off toward his berth. The gifts were forgotten in his joyful haste. "You're gon' teach me everything, sweetspark! Holidays, customs, what all those weird organic dishes are!" He nuzzled their cheek fondly as he walked.

________

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[bugboioli23]

Hgngnmdnf doodle page! Sorry for not posting much I have no ideas and I feel so uninteresting since I keep drawing Swerve lmao

Tumblr don’t block this pls they’re just enjoying some monster energy nothin to see hereeee

[rowanmutt-afterdark]

Kinktober Day 3: Chasity

(MTMTE/IDW Swerve)

Word Count: 810

MTMTE/IDW Swerve X Human GN Reader

18+ tags: chasity, dom/sub, and slight humiliation play

Read below the cut!

Swerve sat stiff, his knee joints ached as he sat with his thighs spread wide, and his helm tilted back while you worked between his quivering leg struts. You were attaching something onto his body, specifically his spike. You had called it a chastity cage, and while he was still learning human ways, he had grown interested in it.

He remembered seeing something like what was being put on him from a human holo film, according to what you called it, it's called ‘porn’. He still had no clue what it was but he trusted you over other sources.

He jolts with a whimper as the cold chastity finally clips into place and he hears you chuckle between his thighs. He feels your finger slip between the bars of the cage and stroke a small stripe down his chubby, stubbed spike. He hissed with pleasure as you teased the sensitive organ.

“So, how does it feel?” Your inquiry helped him focus again so he could get a coherent sentence out.

“Feels good, a little weird but it doesn't hurt.” He answers. He hears You hum in acknowledgment to his response before resuming your work of teasing his body. You take a finger and gently trail down his body, smirking as you trace the armoured plating that made up his chassis and stout frame. You took the trail all the way down to just above his spike, it earned a small jump from his skin growing erection.

He whined as your hands moved back up to his chassis to trace the metal, following the flow of his plating and tracing cables making your minibot lover squirm and whimper as you watched each small movement to make sure he wasn't uncomfortable.

He shuddered, his engine hiccuping as it revved excitedly, your small fingers slipped between the plating just under his chassis and teased the sensitive wiring there. He shifted with a moan of ecstasy as your fingers expertly rolled and tweaked at the wires.

His intake gaped open as his plating flared, his leg struts tensing as his hips buck forward, desperate for friction against his growing erection. His visor flaring a bright cyan as his frame leaned forward to be closer to you. His lip components parting as he gasped out a plea. “Please,sweetspark! I need it so bad!”

You looked down at his weeping tip, his caged spike was throbbing within its confines. Transfluids dribbled down the chastity, it was splattering onto his plating, and on the floor. Your tongue clicked against your teeth, tsking at the mess your boyfriend was making in his hab-suite. Your hand reached up to grab his helm, your fingers grasped a hold of the back of his helm and pulled him down closer to your own height. Only a few feet height difference made him just a little bigger than yourself.

“Only good boys get to overload, you are to address me as what?” You growl, earning a high pitched whine before you received your answer.

“Please, mistress. I need to release, it hurts!” You hum as if thinking before you lift a foot and press it against his caged spike. He makes a sound similar to a squeal of pleasure but his engine roaring covers it as your boot clad foot pressed down against his chastity. Watching as he tensed, holding back the overload that so badly wanted to be let go.

“Again, tell your mistress what you want.” You demand, the foot on his spike pressed down with a littke more pressure earning a shutter and a whine. He sounded so pathetic, it was cute~

“Overload! Please mistress, I need to overload!” He sobbed. You smirk and watch as his spike weeped for that release he so craved.

“Good boy~” You purred, with that he released. His cry was so delicious that your own arousal started to become unbearable as his transfluids painted your boot, his thighs, and the floor. You smiled, watching him as he slowly came down from his high. His visor flicked on and off as his systems roared to life to cool his frame down.

“Now look at the mess you made, we can't have your mistress wearing your fluids like this, now can we?” You didn't need to say anymore as the mech leaned down and used his glossa to lap up the spilled fluids off your boot. Your pussy clenching at the display, your hand moving down to your pants as you gropped at your crotch to try and relieve the pressure building.

“Once you are finish cleaning, I have another task for you. How does dessert sound?” Swerve moaned against your solvent covered boot as he sat up again and nodded eagerly. You didnt hesitate in taking your pants off and seating yourself against his face.

This was going to be a long night~

[pinkanonwrites]

In the context of transformers

Would doing regular pneumatic maintenance, such as lubricating cylinders and pivots, be considered wholesome grooming? Or a horny massage?

I think it depends on the bot to be honest! I'm sure some bots are more sensitive than others, and there are some bots who see routine maintenance as just that, routine maintenance. Like, I wouldn't get all hot and bothered if someone brushed my hair for me, but it's definitely relaxing and appreciated.

Depending on the continuity I think different bots would have different feelings about it. If you were curious about any bots in particular hit me up but here's a few that immediately came to mind.

Earthspark Bumblebee would be embarrassed about having your help but doing his best to play it off like it's no big deal to him, while Bayverse and Animated Bumblebee would treat it almost like a spa day or special pampering.

ROTB Mirage and IDW Swerve would both get a level of pleasure out of it, but Mirage would be much more forward about that where Swerve would silently keep it to himself, frame practically rattling with embarrassment.

G1 and Bayverse Optimus would appreciate the help but would consider it no more than routine maintenance, while Earthspark Optimus would feel as if he was putting you out in some way and Animated Optimus would appreciate it but also be very flustered the entire time. Every time you touch him he startled and his engine revs a bit despite himself.

[toomanybrainrots]

Request Swerve x Cybertronian S/O.

Their dynamic is pretty much Jessica and Roger Rabbit.

Roger Rabbit and Jessica Rabbit !!! Shsinskndknidn I love their dynamic plsss tall beautiful wife with small goofy husband?? Loev it so much and I hope I interpreted it good

Swerve with a Cybertronian S/O with the dynamic of Jessica and Roger Rabbit

Swerve is very smitten with you

Like, very smitten

I mean, have you seen yourself?? Goddamn was he lucky to have you as his conjunx, his CONJUNX

He’s always staring at you with the most heart eyes anyones have ever seen until he realizes you’ve stopped talking and is now staring back

He always looks so bashful whenever he looks away

You find it adorable that he still acts like this even though you’re already his conjunx

Swerve stared with a goofy smile as you talked, occasionally taking sips of your high grade. You always looked so beautiful whenever you talked, but you always looked beautiful.

Before he knew it, you had stopped talking and were now looking directly at him

Swerve quickly turned away to try, and probably fail, at hiding his blush. He had probably looked so ridiculous and goofy…

You were tempted to remind him you were his conjunx, but you decided to simply stay silent and smirk

He’s a bit goofy at times but you love him anyways

[rungssparemodelpieces]

Human, talking to Ultra Magnus, doesn’t notice Swerve sneaking up behind them

Swerve, singing: “You got the touch!”

Human, not missing a beat: “You got the poweeeer! … Damn it, Swerve!”

Swerve, running off before he can get reprimanded

[i-starcreamed]

Angst Mtmte Headcanons with Rodimus, Swerve, Tarn, Ratchet? Either human or cybertronain s/o works!

Their s/o and them get back from a fight. Everything’s fine and they’re like celebrating. But little do they know their s/o has been hiding a fatal injury 😈

HII THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH YOUR REQUEST! Sorry this took like a month...anyways this was a very fun ask ngl. But also this is an absolute nightmare for Ratchet in like, every single one of them besides Tarn, my bad. Just stop dying, Y/N

[ cybertronian!reader CW: angst, death, near-death, injuries, i think you get it

post includes: Rodimus, Tarn, Swerve, and Ratchet]

(can you tell i like this gif?)

RODIMUS

The enemy was defeated, a couple of injured crew members were rushed to the med bay, but all was good now. The danger has passed. Rodimus bore a look of exhausted but relieved contentment, both of you have emerged unscathed from the ordeal.

Except…you held a servo to your side, your face scrunched up when you tried to walk but brushed it off to your lover that you were sore from the fight. 

"Do you really think it's a good idea to go without a checkup from Ratchet?" Rodimus asked, his face betraying his concern. "We had one hell of a fight back there, and I don't want you getting hurt and putting that stunning frame of yours in danger," he managed to smile, but the worry was still obvious in his expression.

“I’m fine, just a little sore is all. I’ll just disengage my pain receptors and I’ll be a-okay” you forced a smile.

That you did, but it didn’t stop you from feeling other symptoms besides pain

As soon as his attention was turned away from you, you took your energon-stained servo off your side, revealing an open wound. It was small, and should usually bleed slowly, but this time it threatened to be a big deal—it was connected to one of your main fuel lines. You glanced at the bots celebrating around you, some missing due to attending their friends in the med bay after the fight.

Ratchet had better things to focus his efforts on, and you saw others far worse off than yourself. You clung desperately to the tiny hope that you would still be standing when all the others were healed. Feeling suddenly unsteady, you leaned against the wall for support, your vision beginning to blur. Come on, not now! You willed your legs to move forward as you made your way toward Rodimus and the rest of the bots he was addressing. You’ll last a little longer.

By the time Rodimus notices you’re horribly injured, it's already too late. You're in his arms, the spark inside you weak and flickering as a large amount of your energon leaves a trail from his racing form. He desperately rushes you to the medbay, his servos shaking and trembling as he pleads with Ratchet to save your life. His voice grows louder as he begs for a miracle, primus help you

“You have to help her, you have to help her!”

The light has gone out from your optics, your spark hums quietly. When Ratchet takes your vitals, he gives Rodimus a look. And oh, he knows what that look means. 

He’s angry, he’s upset, he rushes to hold you one last time. He should have realized earlier, he should’ve taken you to Ratchet even if you said you were fine. He should’ve. 

SWERVE

It was one of those battles where everyone was needed; you and Swerve had to look out for each other. You two weren't the toughest or biggest fighters on your team but hey, by the end, you two managed to help out in some way.  

Why not host a small celebration at Swerve’s? Most of the crew was already there, having a drink or chatting. You stayed behind to get checked up by Ratchet but promised Swerve you’d join him soon after.

After the full-fledged battle, you felt dizzy and tired, but you figured it was just due to your extreme exhaustion. Little did you know, there was a malfunction in your inner circuits that had been spreading quickly, rapidly shutting down your functions. If you were well enough to think clearly and logically about the situation at hand, perhaps the malfunction would have horrified you more than it did… However, with the malfunction putting an extra load on your thoughts and movements it became very difficult for you to think straight. You must have been hit by something, but you don’t even remember what.

Ratchet asked if you wanted to call Swerve, but you said no. You didn't want to worry him. But then again, your spark panged at the thought of never seeing him again, of never getting to say goodbye. Time was running out and at this point, all you had left was the ability to message him through your communicator.

The minibot rushed as fast as he could to see you, but when he arrived and saw the state you were in, his spark sank. You were hooked up to all these machines that seemed to be the only thing keeping you alive. But at least you were still conscious, thankfully

“Oh, oh…y/n why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve, we could’ve…why?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Oh..y/n..” tear coolant(?) comes out of both your optics.

“Nonono wait, can you please hel-” The look on the medic’s face was enough to answer his pleas. There was nothing that could be done anymore. 

“Swerve” you muttered, your servo reaching out. “It’s okay.” 

The minibot grasped your servo tightly, his desperate grip conveying the understanding that this would be the last time he would have the chance to.

TARN

You knew being alongside the DJD was dangerous, hell, you were dangerous. The team of overly Megatron-obsessed mechs surprisingly had each other's back. You were with Tarn, too. You were basically unstoppable. 

So when you felt that shot hit your chassis, and the energon quickly leaking out of your wound, you had no idea what happened. You fell to your knees in front of the deceased Decepticon traitor whom you had just seen fall right before their blast had hit you. You were turned away from your team and their delight as they celebrated his death without any knowledge of what had happened to you. As those behind you laughed and commended each other for their victory

“Did you see how they finished them off? Absolutely cruel.” Your conjunx bragged to the others. His footsteps approached when you didn’t move from your spot. “Y/N?”

Before he had a chance to witness the pool of energon forming in front of you, you quickly whipped your helm around, frantically trying to hide your dizziness by plastering a smile on your face. "Stubborn one, huh? I'll be..I'll be with you in a moment," your words slurred slightly and Tarn took a step closer. “What was that? Are you alright?”

“YES, yes, I’m just… admiring this. You know how I feel about spilled energon”. Your servo tightened on the wound as you pondered if applying enough pressure would speed up the healing process.

Tarn paused for a moment then went to place a servo on your shoulder. “That’s my-” His optics widened when he saw your servo clutched around your wound.

"What happened?" Tarn demanded, dropping to his knees beside you and examining the wound. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you," you replied weakly, trying to hide the pain in your voice. "I thought it was just a graze, but it hurts more than I thought it would."

Tarn's optics softened as he looked at you, his hand moving to gently caress your cheek. "Just a graze…” He scoffed. “You foolish, stubborn bot," he murmured affectionately. "You know I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."

“I’m sorry,” you winced. Realization hit him like a ton of bricks - you were dying and needed medical attention immediately. His spark hurt. Despite it all, he musters up enough courage to pick you up in his arms and take you away to safety, struggling to keep his composure as he does so.

Your optics shut off, and he realized he might need to figure out his last words to you. He clutched his fists. 

RATCHET

He would never forgive himself if a fatal injury went unnoticed, especially if you were his patient. And yet, somehow it happened

Many of the crew members were injured, and few needed urgent medical attention but you knew Ratchet would be busy.

Despite his complaints and grumbling, Ratchet had agreed to scan you as soon as he was done tending to his critically-injured patients.

You had a deep slice way too close to your spark, you were bleeding out. You were able to use a medical patch tucked away in your subspace to temporarily stop the bleeding, but it's like applying a bandage to a bullet wound a little too close to the heart.

You realized you may have fucked up when you started to feel lightheaded and your sensors suddenly weren't working so well. You limped your way to the medbay, but didn't manage to make it. You groaned as the energon seeped from underneath the patch, you slid down the wall just a couple steps away from the entrance. The last thing you saw was a blur exit the medbay and run towards you before your optics powered off.

Ratchet’s optics widened when you were carried into the medbay by a bot he had just finished working on. He took off the patch to reveal the fatal wound, he could only stand there as your spark weakly glowed underneath all your inner systems. 

Why hadn’t you told him? Why didn’t he make sure? He knew your spark was too weak and wouldn’t make it but he still desperately tried to seal any area where energon was flowing from, occasionally cursing at himself when his servos would be too shaky. 

“C'mon, c'mon. Primus, damnit. Don't you dare give up on me now."

He couldn't accept the truth, he held his helm in his servos when your spark completely stopped functioning. 

He agreed to have a drink at Swerve’s with you after everyone was healed, just one. And now that moment would never come. 

[robolvrr]

galaxy girl ༚⁠˖⁠♡ 💻

lost light first contact au. mild nsfw. fem!human reader.

long way from home? you must be awfully lonely. don't worry. i can make it feel allll better. [ donations : open! ]

18+ below!

ultra magnus had pretty much declared no "contraband" allowed aboard, unless it was bought ethically and consumed ethically. whatever that meant.

it's an accident.

"it's in the guidelines", he'd said. "and we can't just abandon the rules. it's what prevents this place from caving into vicious decline."

in short? "don't have fun guys. i'm a giant pole in the mud."

so it wasn't all that surprising when that got thrown out the window. it was usually little things. some other-planetary historical junk. doo-dads and whatchamacallits. brainstorm had a terrible habit of smuggling shit that no doubt would actually blow up the place.

when swerve started suggesting smuggling entertainment, in efforts to of course make the bar a little more interesting, not many disagreed. granted he has to keep it a total secret (though we all know the ships gossip can only keep his mouth shut a cycle a time.)

from the sound of it? he's found something good.

"now listen. i paid an arm and a servo for this so i better not hear any complaints. don't ask me how i got to work - because i don't know!"

a groan cuts through his speech. whirl chitters in his seat, banging the table.

"get on with it! i don't have all night to hear you toot your own pipes."

swerve doesn't even crinkle his smile.

"oh cmon, don't be like that pal. you guys don't even know what i have!" he turns around, bent behind the bar top as he rummages through belongings.

he's gotten a mildly entertained "first viewership party" consisting of whirl, rewind, aaaaaand...

well. the others weren't too interested in one on one time, all making up great excuses to just "wait until it's ready."

a thin, screened device is plopped onto bar top.

rewind stares.

"... a geriatric electronic. swerve wow you've.. you've really outdone yourself there."

his frown turns to a pout and he moves it away before whirl has a chance to crush it.

"hey. don't say that. it's not the device, it's what's on the device. i'm talking connections outside the species. full, galactic communication. for free!"

rewind looks a little dubious. "i don't know. you've been scammed before. what if it doesn't work-"

"rewind, buddy, i love you, really, i do. but that last time doesn't count because i was totally given some very misleading information---"

whirls servos jolt forward with frustrated ease. he almost yanks the poor thing wide open.

"will ya both stop yapping my processor off! just show the damn thing! i am missing out on prime wrecker --"

the screen finally lights up. the trio quiet down, and it's funny, because they have to crowd around the smaller screen and there's some shoving and grumbling before they can actually see. it opens up to a "browser" - that's what the broker called it.

a used "laptop" but working functionally and much less sophisticated than any of the other tech they frequently used. wasn't a surprise they were so advanced compared to their spacial neighbors.

the browser had a chat pinned at the right. some of the language was understandable but most was not. either way it was moving too fast and that wasn't what was catching attention either.

it was you.

you look to be in a room. berthroom?

"bedroom", swerve corrected rewind quietly. what? he's seen enough movies.

it's pale and pink and soft. lacking metal, or hard surfaces. it's so painfully.. soft looking. and you are too. your hair is pinned up and there's something small and cylinder strapped to the inside of your thigh. the wire is taped. your face is partially hidden under a thin mask, though your nose and lips are visible. lace and sheer mesh plaster your frame.

"... is that a fragging fleshie."

swerve bites his servo. oh primus, what did he buy?!?

"uh. it appears it is."

whirl squints. his golden optic trains on the movement you provide. how your fingers trail up your waist. when you tap back to your viewers on the keyboard, giving cheeky laughs and little looks down your cleavage.

"... she's tiny. could probably squeeze her and she'd yelp like a turbo fox."

rewind shifts uncomfortable. leave it to whirl to make things weird.

"that's what you're focusing on? not the fact that swerve just smuggled on. organic porn onto the ship?!"

swerve shushes them both, loud. he feels admittedly a little hot under his visor. you're not looking at them, it's not how the camera works - you are broadcasting yourself. but it certainly feels like you've got that coquette, impish gaze all for him, sighing soft and starting to move your hips. he's not a prude.

he's seen plenty of those human movies and some of them had the species interfacing thrown in. it's all acting, though.

this feels raw. feels like he's being a little pervert voyeur.

suddenly, he has the urge to go back to his habsuite and loosen his modesty panels some. they feel tight.

"you like that, sunshines?"

amidst the baffled bickering, your voice coyly whispers and tugs their attention, forces their heads to turn. you got closer to your camera, turning around until your knees rest on the pillow.

neither of them can even describe what they're looking at. you don't have a spike, and your valve looks nothing like any cybertronian. but it's wet and pink and messy. there's something pink plugging up the other hole too. it's got that same, soft fluff as your nightgown at the end. whirl's knee hits the table hard.

"you guys have all been so good for me. i think it's high time you get your rewards. i love when i can make you all happy. mmn.."

several dings blast the speakers. the device on your thigh buzzes. you sing the prettiest note of pleasure any of them have ever had the millions of years to experience.

your face goes into the pillow. every donation is met with whimpers and thank yous and whiny support.

"primus. oh my.. geez. frag. she's so... it's so flexible. you're recording this right? rewind, tell me you are."

"i am, swerve, shush!"

you look so cute. they can't explain why.

maybe it's because you know most of the viewers aren't your kind, but your smaller frame is still just as enticing. your skin glistens as you kick your legs, overwhelmed. stockings peel down and it's about the sexiest thing since wireplay.

"yoooo, swerve!"

the three mechs almost yell in unison. the laptop is shut hard. swerve is the first to turn around. his smile looks dopey and he sucks at lying.

"heyyyyyyy. heyyyyyy. do what do i owe the pleasure, captain? didn't ya hear? opening hours changed for today!"

rodimus quirked a brow-ridge. weird. "uh-huh. did you? sorry, didn't know." didn't remember. he probably wasn't listening. "hoo, anyways. i need you to look into hosting an event. you see, there's been some in-fighting with the crew."

"how awful!" swerves dentae grits. his smile is bordering painful. rodimus pats his shoulder and the last thing he wants is to be touched by anyone when his spike is threatening to chub.

"yeah, i know. lack of camaraderie just won't do. makes a spark hurt, you know? so, i had a brilliant idea. you are gonna host a party. a big one! one that not even ultra magnus can question, because he'll be invited. unfortunately."

"super!" by the stars above, strike him down now!

"see, i knew you were the minibot for the job. i dunno why they always complain about you."

"shucks, thanks -- wait what?"

rodimus continues. whirl has long stalked off but from the sound of crunching metal on his exit, he's just as pissed that he's gotten a bit of a spike kill. or maybe he's just mad a flesh bag has gotten him riled up. probably both.

but one thing is painfully clear. this?

best purchase of his life.