#swerve x reader

[robolvrr]

f-r-e-a-k !‿⁠✷｡✧

lost light members react to human porn (and develop some preferences of their own.)

ft. skids! megatron! rodimus! swerve! ultra magnus!

nsfw under the cut.

rodimus prime - top-five ranked

when he first heard actual, genuine human content had reached aboard his ship, he had quickly formed a half-assed meeting to announce that he, of course, being captain and all should review with ultra magnus.. and perhaps rewind too, before dispersing it out to the crew.

of course when ultra magnus expressed his surprise at this new leaf turned, eager to scour through intergalactic protocol he simply let one word out the other audial and made some grave, grammatical errors to distract the mech and let the captain do his own decision making.

he spends a lot of time nitpicking. he doesn't like movies as much so he reserves those to swerve nor does he care too much about books.

a functioning computer however....

he's bored. and curious. two demons that never dwell well together in the same room.

clearing browser history? never heard of that!

good thing the previous owner has lots of bookmarks, because he finds it infinitely easier to sift through links there than carefully type.

"porn...hub? what's that? must be some kinda uh.. uhhh... uh."

cue the fan whirring. he's hunched over and slack jawed, staring at the frankly color-clashing archive and almost pushing himself away when the cursor hovers over a video - and the humans in it start moving.

clicked the first video with a bold "#1 ranked". he really shouldn't. he really, really should just toss this tempting contraband out the nearest garbage disposal.

"unhh! harder! haaarder! ♡"

he's focused hard on the spike - cock, he learns, or dick, humans got lots of funny terms - ruts rough into you, forcing you to melt forward and squeak through sheets.

the loud, exaggerated moans make him pitifully decide otherwise. imagine him, all weak in the knees, sliding down to sit as he watches transfixed.

flesh on flesh hitting sounds a lot better when it's this and not fighting.

sooner or later, he's huffing into his servo, jacking off his spike and squeezing the tip so rough he's almost jealous seeing you bouncing away. you'd be so, so fragging soft. he can imagine squeezing your limbs and twisting you around to his liking.

overloads fast. he's almost ashamed enough to be embarrassed.

now? can't reach his climaxes unless there's some raunchy, wet-coated squeals in his memory banks. doesn't bother searching up anything because he doesn't have the patience to cultivate. you just happen to be at the top so he gladly sticks watching your holes get sticky any cycle.

skids - playboy bunny

"oh for prime's sake, chromedome don't make me feel like i'm trading for somethin' illegal."

won a "mystery stash" from a late night gamble. of course, not all of rodimus's finds stayed quiet.

he isn't sure why it's such a big deal. the cardboard box which spills open easily under a digit's care isn't filled with weaponry or bombs.

it's almost funny, this giant picking up a magazine in a pinch, helm tilted and keeping it an arm's distance away like the pages might bite.

he looks at the front cover for a long, long time.

his processor isn't catching up. then he squints. gets reaaaaal close.

there's you! all dolled up, as the humans would say. except you're really not, because half of your squishy aft is out, and your servos are covering up your chest but aren't doing a good job.

neither is the bright, blue bow christened at your pelvic area, where he realizes with a jolt is lacking any modesty panels of any kind.

flips a page. oh, it's you again. curved over a lounge. cheekily spreading yourself with a... gathering of lace twisted around your frame.

another one. you got something round in your mouth. he looks carefully at your lips.

and then he's flipping through all of it, and digging into the box and oh, he's found a jackpot because it's all you.

now he understands why it's got the markered "collectors items" on the side. he doesn't question too much when he spits lubricant down onto his spike. dedicated some of that cotton candy gossamer all over your february edition of playboy in approval.

megatron - classic erotica

a true mech of literature. now, unlike many of the lost light, he's had his run in with humanity before. not that he particularly got or wanted to enjoy their culture back then.

though when he did find his way back onto a possible path of redemption, he did indulge once upon a time.

at his spark, he's a poet. a linguist. enjoyer of golden age, art and craftsmanship.

earthen literature has its.. moments. he reads novellas and lost to the history manuscripts, plays, all of which have almost all been uploaded to more convenient means as upkeep for the paper is a pain.

however, he has found one book. a funny looking book, with a funny looking cover.

he observes, rigidly, the scandalous embrace of what he assumed to be the characters, how clothing lacked in areas it shouldn't and skin was almost.. glistening. "seven nights of passion." a chuff left his dermas.

ah, to pit with it. why not?

megatron finds himself slowly involved with the chapters despite the comedy of its advertisement. the writer, you, no doubt under a penname, push development shockingly far.. for a human.

and the intimacy? interfacing? so descriptive. while he has not seen what he is reviewing, he can imagine it. images of sweaty bodies, grinding and yearning and crying.

cybertronians have no reason or function to. the thought of a human, pushed to the brink overloaded with stimulation is... stimulating.

it is a shame when it comes to an end but he might in his free-time peruse for more. leaves his plating warm and intake dry.

the authors note suggests that your inspiration drives from personal experience.

his ... array fizzles at that. fascinating.

swerve - r-rated movie night

"wowza. that's hh. haha. woah! they all do that.. ?"

first movie he flipped onto the projector was supposed to be an "action and feel-good film with hints of romance, angst and sci-fi elements."

not even halfway through, you, the imaginary captain of the imaginary "roman's ravager" have your uniform shimmied down to your ankles, mouth mashing against your supposed rival, who everyone has been heckling for the past forty-five minutes.

some of the mechs cheer, other grumble and argue to skip, others squirm and grimace. swerve watched you push the other down, head tilting back as the camera zooms to your face.

"it's just acting, ya' degenerates, stop acting like protoforms!"

it isn't until he feels a servo smack upside his helm that he starts fumbling for the remote. too much noise but now he's getting a comm from mags asking about what the rackets for so! fast forward he goes.

at 1x.

while the chaos starts to settle, he peeks between digits. catches glimpses of your open mouth. the goosebumps down your chest. how you shake at the insinuation that someone is between your legs, servicing.

slag. when's the last time he's even played with his valve?

movie night was a hit regardless of the commotion. he has to clean up after, which thankfully didn't result in any expelled energon or skid-marks.

that also means he's alone. alone, in his bar. all by himself, staring at the rest of the discs with your pictures on the front, credits humming in the background.

it'll be good for the economy. (all of it is pirated.)

maybe it's for the best. because now, he's realizing you really are a great actor, in lots of different genres, able to adapt and really grab his attention.

it's not as if his spark pulses seeing you in costumes, or using that soft voice you do in all your roles when you make a point.

not like he's riding his digits and crunching into a fist when you're running on the beach, sand dappled and leaving little to imagination.

ends up on his back, charged up and shaking. hurts to speak, to move or to dab up the puddle of transfluid, laughing deliriously when his panels are even too much effort to close.

ultra magnus - audio praise

"you're doing such a good job. you're perfect. you know that, right? yes you do, so good for me."

when he first heard you, he damn near crushes the auditory device and full-blown shudders in the confines of his hab. he's sputtering, optics wide and there's a million reasons he should report this to rodimus and question just what he's given him.

"to help ya uh... research? take the edge off pal."

half-contemplates storming back to the bridge himself if it weren't for your sugar-coated mumbles still coming through the unpaused recording.

you'd think he was dealing with a ticking blast with how he warily handles the device, gruffly spitting out curses that he'd otherwise never allow in crew vicinity.

"i want you to reward yourself. you earned it, honey. can you do that for me? here, listen."

to his horror - and crumbling interest - a slick cacophony of sound rattles in his helm. there's panting, a shift of material that he assumes is tangled around you and frag, he's able to think up you and a thousand faces.

what's worse? is he's hypnotized. you don't demand. you coo to him, just loud enough to let him know you'd be broken too. if he let himself let down that wall, just for the twenty minutes you sing in his audials, he'll know it's done with you just as weak.

"g��gooood job ahhhh!" that does it. ultra magnus groans, shutting off his optics entirely. his large servo feels up along his frame as you suggest.

"i wish you were here. hah.. mmn! could see me. see me fucking myself to you. let you kiss me. you deserve it, sweetie. deserve me on you."

magnus and the sobbed growl to his motors reminds him just how lonely he's felt. always monitoring. always stressed. hearing the spit collect at your throat as your commands grow hoarse makes you feel real.

would you... would you kiss him? would you let him pick you up, rest you flat on his servo and have his glossa lap up your want?

he towers over nearly all. having a partner so much smaller, tinier than even an minibot, shouldn't run up a charge but it does.

he overloads when he's sticking digits near the casing of his spark, ignoring the spurts of pre sizzling down his thighs.

"w-was that as fun.. for you as it was for me?"

dazedly falls onto his berth. this isn't leaving his dermas unless he's had a drink.

a/n : a little haha funny idea i had. there's just something so funny thinking of these giant old robots realizing just how much porn is out there.

[megtrns]

how to take care of your human 101 : a psa brought to you by the lost light crew. first contact au. sfw! with slight mentions of nudity.

a/n : to preface this, it was seven am in the morning and i was supposed to catch a train in about an hour or so to go out of town alone for an errand. but as i was putting on my skincare, i began to feel so overwhelmed that i started crawling back under the covers mid-makeup. and for the first time in what i think is forever, i woke up at noon, disoriented with powder smudging my pillows. and there was just a different kind of misery to look down at my phone to realise that not only did i miss my train, but half the day was gone. but then my flatmate came and told me i put too much pressure on myself, and suddenly it clicked on me. it's always a reality check when someone you care about tells you to your face that you've been pushing yourself too hard. this made me wonder how the bots would intervene when it was obvious that their human needed a mental health break.

ratchet suspiciously eying the young medic drifting down the halls of the sickbay like a wayward ghost: with sunken eyes and sluggish movements, running on what he assumed was a quarter of your designated sleep cycle. the last straw was when he caught you asleep at a broom closet, waking up in a panic and apologizing as if it wasn't his fault for assigning you the same shifts as the others, all of whom were part of a non-organic species that could run on an empty tank for months if needed.

feeling guilty, the cmo offered to send you home. you were stubbornly resisting until he said something along the lines of 'paid leave.' that was enough to send you skipping into the parking lot so you could nosedive into your bed. when you returned after the weekend, with a pep in your step and a smile across your face, first aid had wondered aloud that he didn't know humans could glow.

minimus would take it upon himself to run you a bath, lowering himself into the bathtub so your back could rest against his chassis, knees bent and legs intertwined with his. the water is warm and welcoming, sloshing onto the tiled floor as he adjusts himself to hug you from behind. here, in the blissful silence, the bathroom was wet with steam; the precipitation clinging onto the glass of his optics, creating a lazy, unhurried atmosphere that lulled him to the edge of recharge. he listens to the sound of your breathing, slow and calm as you doze off. and he would smile fondly at the sight of your resting, knowing that this was much needed for the both of you.

rodimus, mass displaced and laughing, standing under the pouring water of your shower. he makes the stall feel crowded, but you don't mind, dangling both arms around his neck as the captain washes your hair — skin to metal, hip to hip. he said something about how he loves the smell of flowers in your hair, servos firm yet gentle as they cradle your head. he wiped the soap dripping down your brow, peppering kisses all over your face to keep you awake. but you were drowning in bliss, content and lazy, thankful for his help and enthusiasm during the days when you couldn't even take care of yourself.

drift cleverly working his servos across your shoulders, down the curve of your neck to the base of your spine. already you can feel the muscles loosening, the strain from sitting too long, melting away under his ministrations. you were also in awe at how much control he wielded, precise and careful, never once hurting you with too much force. it was hard to believe that these were the same set of servos that struck fear into the sparks of so many mechs. as he presses a soft kiss in the square of your back, you can only sigh in delight against the pillow — putty in his arms and already drifting to a dreamless sleep.

ambulon would blearily open his optics to the yellow glow of the bathroom light pouring into the peaceful darkness of the room, recharge interrupted by soft noises. he slowly peels the soft blankets away from his frame to creep to the sound of your movements, the sight of you dressing before the sun has barely risen, tugging at his sparkstrings. he is aware humans need at least eight to nine hours of rest, and yet with less than six, his lover is already by the bathroom mirror repeating the same, tiring routine every week. one might think that his past as a decepticon and medic working in the lost light would make him a senseless partner, but it was quite the opposite, ambulon would give you the world if you asked. but maybe the closest thing you need now is a day to yourself.

so when you come home that day to the apartment spotless, the smell of fresh linen in the air and the sound of something delicious sizzling atop the pan; you can't help but cry by the doorway, your boyfriend nearly dropping the glass of high-grade he was casually sipping to rush to hug you — "are these happy, human tears? oh, okay, that's good. that's good."

swerve discovering that your birthday is coming up but you have no plans to celebrate it, too busy and too tired from the long weekday. the minibot wasn't too happy about this, deciding that he was going to fix it before the special date rolls around. this is how you find yourself walking into a surprise party, with candles and cakes and decorations dangling from the ceiling. you had screamed in delight at the sound of the confetti going off, immediately throwing yourself in the arms of your friend, rounds of laughter echoing in the room where all your giant friends have gathered to celebrate your coming into existence.

whirl noticing how the days you spend together have grown shorter and shorter each passing day, with you either rushing off to finish a deadline or already dressed to eat dinner with your new co-workers. the ex-wrecker insists he isn't jealous, no, of course not — he just hates sitting by the couch watching the clock tick away, unable to focus on his earth shows because you were always coming home so late.

so when whirl stopped you from putting your shoes on one morning to tell you that he had called your workplace to say you needed some time to yourself, you were struck by his thoughtfulness; feeling guilty that you never considered that whirl could do something so sweet. until you switch on the tv to hear the news anchor announce that the police needed help to identify an anonymous caller who had sent a bomb threat earlier this morning to your office. he says it was obvious that he wasn't going to do it — "what? i thought you needed the day off, sweetspark? it worked didn't it?"

you didn't know whether to be flattered or to call prowl and the local precinct that the search was over.

[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!”

[revelboo]

Please, please, please, may I have another snack of Sunder? I beg!

Snack time!

For the bots anyway. 18+ scenarios. Mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Knockout and Breakdown, Sunder, Brainstorm, Krok, and Swerve snippets

Sunder

• “Just a kiss. One kiss, little love.” Not on his life. Watching the hungry way his head turns to track you as you straddle his thighs and walk your fingertips up his plating to make his hips lift and nearly dump you off the berth. Venting dramatically, he wiggles against his chain. “I wouldn’t bite. Not you.” Definitely lying and you play with the seams at the inside of his thighs while you wait him out. Because he’d absolutely bite if you were dumb enough to try to get anywhere near those nasty denta. “You’re so cruel to me.” There’s a wicked glint in his optics, though.

• Giving in as you just stare at him, he frees his spike and tucks his chin to watch you wrap a hand around him and lean forward to slide the flat of your tongue against him before you’re shifting to rock yourself against him. Teasing him. Torturing him as he growls hungrily. Because you never actually take him in that wet mouth, only taunt him with it. That’s going to be the first thing he does when he gets free. Wants you on your knees, mouth wrapped around his spike. Might even do that before he feeds. Optics hungrily watching you reach to grip him and guide him to you, he growls. And as soon as you sink down on his spike, he rolls his hips, moving as much as his chains will allow and hearing them jangle as you ride him. Too distracted with the feel of his spike stretching you to bother keeping him out and he eagerly dives into your mind, tearing into your memories and feeding as you take his spike.

Krok

• Back hitting the wall, you hear the click of Krok’s mask retracting then his mouth is on yours, demanding and almost overwhelming. One big hand cupping the side of your face, servos flexing slightly and then his glossa is sliding against the seam of your lips, delving inside. His urgency letting you know the mission didn’t go as planned. Because normally he makes love like rain falling over you, soft and unhurried. He’s upset right now, his touch almost bruising as his other hand pushes at the hem of your pants. Needing inside you. And you don’t hesitate, shimmying out of your clothes.

• Gripping your hips, he lifts you up higher and you hook your legs around him. Making him struggle to free his spike and line up with you. Can feel you laugh when you break away from his mouth and he chases after you. Finding your wet heat and driving up. Riding into you in urgent thrusts as he pins you more firmly against the wall. Reassuring himself that everything’s okay after the fear and anxiety of a mission gone sideways. Needing you to ground him, calm him as he frags you like his life depends on it. You moan and he claims your mouth again, hips snapping against yours. Everything right.

Knockout and Breakdown

• “Not so rough. You’ll break the human,” Knockout says, servos tunneling into your hair where you’re sprawled on top of him, his spike trapped against your soft belly as you rub against him with every rough thrust from Breakdown. The other con snarling as he ruts against you, spike stroking deep to coax those little noises from you. Feels your lips brush his chin as Breakdown stares down at him, fragging you. Breakdown’s servos interlacing with those of his free hand as his thrusts become more urgent and you squirm where you’re trapped between them.

• Whimpering as Knockout uses a servo to tip your face up and his mouth slides against yours, Breakdown’s denta find your shoulder and bite down, the little lick of pain tipping you over the edge. Hear Breakdown groan, thrusts faltering before he’s burying himself deep, releasing inside you. And Knockout’s mouth slides lazily against yours when Breakdown slips free, hooking an arm around you and Knockout both and rolling so you’re still trapped between them as they lay on their sides facing each other over the top of your head. It had taken some getting used to both of them and their dynamic. You throw your head back against Breakdown when Knockout guides your leg up over his hip and then he’s driving his spike inside you.

• Driving his own hips against you to rock his still semi-hard spike against soft skin, Breakdown drapes a possessive arm over you and Knockout to rest on your leg as Knockout moves inside you. Loves watching Knockout frag, the way he loses himself in it and the wet sound of you taking his spike. Hadn’t wanted anything to do with you at first, but you’d convinced him on your knees and Knockout enjoys playing with you. Their little toy.

Brainstorm

• “Not yet, not until I say you can,” he groans, thrusts faltering somewhat, spike pulsing inside you as you try to buck against him. Teasing himself just as much as you as his servos tighten on your hips to keep you still. Venting against sweat-slick skin where he’s kneeling behind you feeling you clench on his spike. “Ask nicely,” he growls, pulling nearly all the way out just to slowly drive deep again. And you swear at him, at his ego. Startling a laugh from him, because it’s not ego if he’s right.

• “Please,” you hears yourself saying, managing to avoid adding that he’s being an egotistical jerk right now. And he begins to move against you, thrusting deep as he pulls you back to meet every drive of his hips. Feeling that thick spike stretching you as he begins to move faster until he’s losing his composure and control. Growling as he claims you as his.

Swerve

• “Don’t stop, please for the love of Primus, don’t stop,” he groans, servos tightening on your hips like he thinks you’re going to bail if he doesn’t keep a grip on you. Straddling him, you brace your palms on his chassis and ride his spike. Eyes hooded as he babbles and growls, hips lifting and rocking under you. Nearly knocking you off balance more than once. And he’s as needy as the very first time every time, lips parted watching you like he can’t believe you’re real.

• Watches you toss your head back, making those little noises as you bounce on him, taking his spike deep. Claiming him as yours. Sliding a hand up your soft side, he waits for those eyes to open and find him. Holding his stare as he rolls his hips to make you gasp. “Swerve,” you moan, his name a plea and a protest. Tempting him to lift his hips, encouraging you to move faster because he’s so close.

[threestarproductions]

Yall seem to like the last swervy art hehe so eat up!

I already posted this on bluesky [plz follow me there] but I said it before and I'll say it again...there needs to be more bent over swerve art

[drabbletron]

Swerve is the kind of person to talk to you all day long via the comms system. If you have a phone, you can bet that he would be on speaker at your desk or while you perform work tasks, just yabbering away. He can talk about anything and everything from media to whatever either of you are doing in that moment.

Sometimes he will just narrate what he is doing.

He also loves to ask hypothetical questions about anything that comes to mind:

“If you were able to fly, how would you want to do it? Flapping your arms, hovering, or a pair of wings? If you were a cybertronian, which alt mode would you want to have? If I were a human, how do you think we would have met?”

Swerve also loves when you have him on speaker phone because he can hear you doing other things like helping people from your desk, to talking with your bosses/the captains, to gossiping with coworkers.

His favorite time you call is when you’re getting ready for work in the morning and you’re doing your morning routine and picking out outfits, while he is getting the bar ready to open. It’s his favorite time because it’s the most domestic the two of you can be that isn’t living together and sharing a space.

He is also the kind of person to either tell whoever you’re talking to “Hi” or make obscene noises. It really depends on your relationship with him.

Doing all of this makes him feel included and that’s really what he wants from others and you. He wants to feel wanted.

[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

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

HI!! i recently read your posts ab the free use human and promptly lost my mind they're so delicious 🙏

i was wondering if you would be able to do something smutty between swerve and a human reader?? i already KNOW he would fantasize ab getting crazy with a human but then when he finally gets offered the chance to do it? he's obviously not gonna miss the chance but he's really nawt gonna know what to do with himself 😭

I am a hopeless slut for Swerve. Sir please blabber to me about nothing while I gaze at you with heart eyes.

Swerve x reader, gender neutral AFAB reader, racially ambiguous, fluff to smut, mutual pining, oral, dirty talk, size kink, strength kink

Swerve couldn’t help when his gaze lingered on you sitting on the bar. Little human form so tiny compared to the mechs around you. Even compared to a minibot like Swerve you were puny.

He couldn’t help the thrum in his spark when you looked up at him like he was your world. He couldn’t help the flush of energon in his faceplate when you reached up and held his servo. Your hand wrapped around three of his fingers as he walked you back to your habsuite every night after you help him with his bar.

So small, so soft, so cute.

You were just sitting there kicking your legs and jabbering with some of the lingering bots while Swerve cleaned up.

“This is the longest I’ve heard you quiet,” Nautica mused placing her empty cup on top the bar.

Swerve jolted swinging his helm to the femme meche before him. “Y-yeah?” He stuttered out hoping she hadn’t caught on to his ogling. “It’s been a long cycle.”

Nautica smirked with a knowing look on her face. “Yeah? Bet it’s gonna be a long night too.”

Swerve immediately caught on to what she was insinuating. He nearly dropped the glass he was cleaning and ended up fumbling it in the air for a good second before catching it.

“Are you okay, Swerve?” You ask noticing his strange behavior.

“Yeah! I’m fine!” Swerve reassured you nervously.

You smiled at Swerve before returning your attention to the bot in front of you. Nautica chuckled behind her servo trying to hide her knowing smile. “The human is totally into you,” she teased quietly.

Swerve scowled at Nautica. “Don’t joke about that.” He turned his gaze to you longingly as you waved goodbye to the final bots leaving the bar. “I think you got a chance,” Nautica said to Swerve. “They may or may not have said something to me.” With that Nautica left Swerve to his gaping jaw on the floor. You gave her a wave goodbye before turning to Swerve.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask with a giggle.

Swerve coughs trying to gather himself his vents running flusteredly. “Yeah! Yeah I’m totally cool,” he said more so trying to reassure himself. Under your gaze he felt like his plating was on fire. Your concerned little stare and how you sat so demurely on his bar. “Want to be a gentleman and walk me home again?” You asked with a flirtatious inclination.

Or at least Swerve thought as much. Maybe Nautica was just getting in his head. There would be no way he could have a chance with you. Someone like Rodimus or Mirage is more your type. Someone heroic and strong and definitely cooler than him.

“Why I’d be honored,” Swerve said in a mock posh accent and with an animated bow.

Your laughter was like twinkling bells in his audials. You reached your arms out for Swerve and he nearly passed out. Your arms outreached looking for him. He moved in, pedes heavy against the bar floor, as he wrapped his arms around your waist in a hug.

You made a soft sound of surprise but hugged Swerve back giving him a couple pats on his helm. “As much as I like the hug, can you help me off the bar?”

Swerve felt like he took a kick directly to his spark. Of course you weren’t looking to hug him. Hell, he did this routine with you everyday! Nautica’s words wormed around his processor laying parasitic eggs in his thoughts.

Swerve lifted you up off the bar counter trying to savor the feeling of your soft body against him. Your feet met the ground as Swerve gently set you down.

Your hands slid down his arm plating during your descent as Swerve’s servos landed on the back of your biceps. “Thank you, Swervy,” you smiled unintentionally letting the nickname slip from between your lips. You two stayed like that for a little bit; Swerve marveling at how you felt in his embrace and you burning up from embarrassment.

“Wait-“ Swerve laughed standing up straight. “Swervy?”

You sputtered trying to find an explanation for the nickname. Swerve reached out pinching your cheeks. “You’re so cute! Please don’t stop being so cute!” You made an annoyed noise at having your cheeks pinched but made no move to stop Swerve.

“Hey,” Swerve’s suddenly serious tone caught you off guard. “Do you want to come over to my habsuite and watch-“

“Yes!”

You both blinked at each other surprised by your eager acceptance of Swerve’s invitation. The minibot called back to what Nautica said feeling his knee joints wobble a bit.

“Y-yeah?” Swerve gulped with excitement. His Servos cupped your face stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Are you asking me out?” You asked holding onto Swerve’s wrists.

This was supposed to go differently in Swerve’s processor. He was supposed to be smooth and suave, leaning over the bar nonchalantly cleaning a glass. He’d say something flirtatious making you swoon. He’d butter you up then drop the question. He could have rescued you from a mean bot teasing you for your height and organic limitations. He’d stand up for you and tell that bot off and he’d be a hero in your eyes. He could have ran into you in the halls making you drop your books and he’d help you pick them up. Your little hand would make contact with his servo and you two would slowly look up at each other. He’d offer to carry your books and walk you to wherever you were going.

“Swerve?”

The minibot so stuck in his daydreams of what should have been didn’t even realize that he’d been staring at you and mindlessly stroking your face.

“Yeah?” He said barely above a whisper.

“Yes to you asking me out or yes to me saying your name?”

“Yes to both!” Swerve exclaimed sweeping you up into another hug. You squeaked surprised at being suddenly lifted into the air and engulfed in mechanized arms. He pressed his faceplate into the side of your head taking in the feeling of your body against him as well as your scent. “Primus I can’t believe it.” You giggled patting his shoulder plate.

Swerve adjusted your position so you were sitting in the crook of his arm with one servo holding onto your calf and the other supporting your waist. You held onto his shoulder plates and smiled down at the minibot.

“I can’t believe you’d actually agree to going out with me after that whole disaster of an invitation! I mean I had this whole scenario planned out where I’d wine and dine you.” Swerve chuckled stroking your waist with his thumb.

“It’s okay, Swerve,” you giggle cupping his face. “The whole bar could have caught fire too and I’d still say yes.”

Swerve’s engine rumbled so enamored with how you stroked the metal of his fave as well as how you spoke to him. Nautica ended up being right. Every time she’d come in here and tease him for his little crush, telling him he should ask the little human out, she was right. Swerve’s spark thrummed through his chasis as you left a small kiss on his forehead just above his visor.

“I’ve really liked you for a while,” you admit shyly. “I just didn’t know if I’d be ruining our friendship if I said something.”

“I don’t think you could do anything that would make me not want to be around you,” Swerve reassured you. “You could straight up kill me and rip my spark out and I’d haunt you trying to hang out with you!”

You snorted giving Swerve another kiss to his forehead. Swerve let out a little huff and furrowed his optic ridge. “I don’t get a kiss on the cheek too?” He said tapping his cheek with his finger. You laughed leaning down to give him a kiss on his cheek but at the last minute he turned his helm causing your lips to collide with his instead of his face.

What was supposed to be a little gag on his end ended up turning into you gripping his face and pushing your mouth against his intake. His optics widened glowing brightly behind his visor but he did nothing to move away. Instead he gripped your hip with his servo and returned your passions.

His intake moved fluidly against your lips like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together. Swerve couldn’t help the groans of delight he released into your mouth. You tasted so sweet on his glossa like honied energon. When you finally pulled back for air he couldn’t help but try to chase after you before taking in your face.

Sweaty, panting, and you felt so much warmer. Your eyes were half lidded and your pupils blown wide.

“I wanna frag you so bad,” Swerve said in an airy voice. Your eyes widened in shock at how forward he was being. “Wait! I didn’t mean to-“ you cut him off with another kiss this time more passionately. Your tongue slithered across his dermas. The whimper he let out made you clench your thighs. He opened his intake allowing his glossa to move against yours.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” Swerve mumbled against your lips. You devilishly nipped at his bottom lip. “God Swerve,” you groaned between kisses. His name coming from your mouth danced around his processor like a melody. “Please fuck me.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at how loud Swerve’s engine revved. You barely had enough time to laugh before he was tossing you over his shoulder plate and rushing out of the bar. “Oh man,” Swerve huffed as you bounced with his stride. “Holy shit I can’t believe this is happening!” A couple mechs you two passed by looked at you concerned before donning a knowing look when he realized what Swerve had planned for the Lost Light’s little human.

You covered your face slightly embarrassed that so many mechs now knew that not only were you a robotfucker but you were also on your way to pound town with Swerve as your conductor.

Swerve’s habsuite door opened with a swish. Being mindful of your head and the doorframe, Swerve rushed into his room and flopped you on his metal berth. Your head made sharp contact with it creating a loud bonking sound that made Swerve freeze and you laugh.

You held the back of your head where it started to sting laughing with no noise at the ridiculousness of the situation. Swerve bit his knuckles as he reached his other servo out for you. “Are you okay? Shit, I didn’t kill you did I? I can’t kill you on our first date!”

You shook your head propping yourself up on your elbows. “I’m fine!” You laughed feeling the stinging start to fade. “I’m fine, I promise.” Swerve seemed to relax a little as he reached out to hold your head. He made you bend your neck forward as he towered over you making sure the back of your head was truly okay. Swerve let out a sigh of relief while stroking your hair. “I totally forgot you’re not as durable as us,” Swerve murmured softly. “I thought I would be all romantic and throw you on the bed.”

You hummed wrapping an arm around Swerve’s neck to the best of your ability. “I thought it was pretty romantic,” you said with a smile. “I mean it’s not everyday such a stud of a mech gives me a concussion.”

Swerve huffed picking you up from under your armpits and adjusting his position so he was sitting with his legs crisscrossed and you in his lap. He rested his servos on your waist with a dissatisfied look on his faceplate. “Now don’t go spreading rumors that I knocked you out or gave you brain damage on our first date!”

You wriggled in his grip so you were straddling his lap. “Aww,” you teased while holding Swerve’s face. “That’s the only reason I’m here. I thought you were going to fuck my brains out.”

The steam that released from Swerve’s vents made your shirt ruffle. His face was flushed blue with energon and his grip on your waist tightened. “I can’t believe you’re here,” Swerve murmured leaning down towards your face. You met him half way tipping your head up so you could capture his dermas with your lips.

Swerve groaned into your mouth as his servos explored your back and hips. “You’re so soft,” Swerve mumbled into your mouth. “I can just squish you under my servos.” Swerve punctuated what he had said with a couple squeezes to your hips. You smiled into the kiss adoring how even when he was making out with you he still continued to talk.

You pulled back to get some air admiring Swerve’s dumbfounded expression. “Frag,” he said in an airy voice. “I-I don’t know what I’m doing. I mean I’ve never done this before! I mean I’ve fucked other bots before but I’ve never interfaced with a human! I know we have the same set up because I’ve seen human porn but I don’t-“

“You’ve watched human porn?” You asked pushing your chest against Swerve. He dropped his jaw not realizing what he had said. “What are you into,” you asked giddily rubbing your hands across his chasis.

“C’mon,” Swerve groaned tilting his helm back. “Just pretend you didn’t hear me say that.”

“Do you jack off to it?” You pushed further letting your hands wander to his shoulders. Swerve hissed steam at your teasing. His servos reached down to cup your rear as you explored his torso. “Cause sometimes I like to think of you when I do,” you whispered into his audial. Your whole body felt hot at that confession both aroused and embarrassed.

There was a click then a hiss like pressure being released before a heavy metal chord sprung between your legs.

“Shit!” Swerve said embarrassed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to do that!” He could already hear you laughing at him for how disgustingly turned on he was.

“Is that your dick?” You asked with wide eyes.

“It’s called a spike but yeah,” Swerve said wincing at your gawking.

“You’re huge,” you gaped trying to hold yourself back from touching his spike.

Swerve’s robotic cock twitched at your compliment. He could feel his cooling fans kicking on trying to keep him from overheating. Despite every hiccup today, despite how unsuave Swerve was, you showed him nothing but love.

“Can I touch it?” You ask feeling your underwear dampen at the sight.

“Yeah! Yes! Yes please!” Swerve begged squeezing your ass. You reached down giving his spike a firm stroke. His engine sputtered at the feeling of your soft hand against his arousal. “Primus,” Swerve gawked watching how you tenderly rubbed him. “Primus I can’t believe you’re here.”

You ran your thumb over his leaking tip gathering the pink transfluid and using it as lubricant to help your hand travel over the cabling of his cock. Swerve exvented hot air out of his frame. He couldn’t hold back the whimper that bubbled out of his intake at the pleasure you brought him.

“Noooo,” Swerve whined when you took your hand away from his spike. His protests were soon quieted when he saw you moving to take off your shirt and unbutton your pants. His optics darted to your chest with intrigue.

“Those-“ Swerve started sliding his servos up your body until he was holding your chest with his fingers splayed over your sides and part of your back. “Frag, these are your nipples.”

You giggled at Swerve’s dumbfounded yet aroused reaction to your chest. He ran his thumb over your nipples making you moan softly. “And humans just spray milk from these?” Swerve seemed almost giddy at the idea. “Sometimes,” you responded your eyes trained on where Swerve rubbed at your chest.

“Why do you guys do that? Is it like a defense thing or?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bloomed out of you. “No! Well maybe for some people but it’s mainly to feed babies,” you explained gently rubbing your pelvis against his spike. Swerve swore under his breath at your movements. He pinched at your nipples making you whine and arch your back towards him. You could feel the hot drift of hair from his vents.

“I want to put a baby into you,” Swerve groaned pulling at your sensitive nipples.

You whined pushing your chest into his grip. “Yeah?” You panted while grabbing his spike once again. “Yeah,” Swerve said tilting his helm down to bite at your neck. “I wanna see how much milk I can get from you.”

Swerve thrusted into your hand in time with your strokes. His intake brushed against your soft skin leaving kisses across the sensitive expanse of your neck. “I bet you’d be so tight,” Swerve whined doing his best not to be too rough with his biting. “Could I even fit in you? You’re just so much smaller! I mean, frag, I can pick you up with one servo.”

You moaned tilting your head to the other side so Swerve had better access to your neck. “I can stretch,” you said breathlessly. You could feel the desperation building inside of you. Swerve hummed with your nipples in his intake. You whined feeling so empty without Swerve’s spike filling you.

“Swerve!” You cried as you humped his lap. “Please! I want you to fuck me so bad!”

Steam blasted out of Swerve’s vents at your sudden desperation. “How?” He asked releasing your nipple with a pop. “How should I uhm do you?” He couldn’t help but feel awkward in the situation. While he was one to constantly speak for some reason dirty talk felt so different now.

You leaned back trying to wiggle out of your pants. The position made it awkward and Swerve had to help you by supporting your back with his servo and guiding the fabric down your legs. When your underwear and pants were finally slid off your body, Swerve could only gawk at your pulsing heat.

You were already so slick with need and he could feel the heat radiating off of your pussy. His Servos dug into your skin possessively and hard enough to make you squeak out in pain.

“Ah! Sorry! Sorry!” Swerve apologized lightening his grip on you.

“It’s okay,” you panted with your eyes half lidded. “I hope it bruises.”

Swerve sputtered in outrage. “You want me to bruise you?! Now why in the whole of Cybertron would you-“ then it hit him. You want him to mark you. You want him to leave evidence of his touch on your body for wandering optics.

“Frag,” Swerve said breathlessly. “Yeah? You want it to bruise?”

You nodded leaning forward to grab Swerve’s lips with yours. He moaned into the kiss letting his grip tighten on your hips once more. He rolled his pelvis up towards yours trying to find stimulation for his spike. You responded by eagerly pushing your sopping cunt against the throbbing metal cord.

Swerve swore his entire system crashed and rebooted when he felt the slick glide of your arousal along his spike. Your soft panting into his intake was like a drug fueling the violent lust for you that had been brewing inside of him for what felt like forever. He pulled back trying to stifle the rumble his engine made when he saw how you chased after him.

“How am I going to put this inside of you?” Swerve laughed giving you a rough thrust of his hips against your core.

You hadn’t considered that and thought for a second. “Let me take the lead for a bit,” you said steadying yourself with a hand on his shoulder.

“Please do,” Swerve smiled, his hands never leaving your hips.

You lifted yourself up off his lap using your knees so you could position his spike towards your hole. “Primus,” Swerve panted seeing the strings of arousal you left on his spike. “I got you that wet? Me? Frag, you think I’ll just slide in there?”

“I hope,” you panted grabbing a hold of Swerve’s spike in on hand and steadying yourself with the other. You aimed the pointed tip of his chubby cock towards your leaking hole. Swerve’s systems were buzzing in impatience at the thought of finally being inside of you.

You dipped your pelvis down trying to capture his cock but only ended up causing it to slip and push against your clit. You both gave an unexpected moan at the same time before you tried again.

With a firm grasp on his cock you tilted your vagina towards the tip and finally pushed down.

The immediate sting of being stretched by something so wide made you wince.

Swerve had to steady every impulse in his body to not thrust up into you. You were so tight and so warm. He could feel your pulse along the head of his spike and he forced your pussy open.

“B-big!” You panted trying to gather your thoughts.

“Yeah?” Swerve wiggled his optic ridge at you.

You huffed out a laugh trying not to let your shaky thighs give up on you and force your body onto his spike.

“Look at you,” Swerve gleamed feeling his spark swell with love. Your shaky body covered in sweat and so sensitive under his touch. He hadn’t even started properly fucking you and you looked absolutely ruined.

“Let me know when you’re-“ Swerve was interrupted mid sentence when he felt your sweaty knee slip against his plating making you lose balance. He was quick to grab your hips and keep you from being impaled but not before you took more of his girth.

You cried out throwing your head back. “Fuck!” Your voice was like a choir to him. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Swerve gave a slow, experimental thrust up into your heat. “Is that good?” He asked with a slightly concerned look on his faceplate.

“It’s so good!” You moaned letting your hand drop from his shoulder and work at your clit. Your body weight was now completely supported in Swerve’s grip as he held you by your hips and waist.

Swerve wanted to drop you on his spike so bad just to see that shocked expression on your face when you’re filled to the brim with him. “Want me to fuck you now?” Swerve asked feeling more empowered by your reaction.

You nodded eagerly while trying to lean forward to take his mouth with yours.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Swerve tsked with a teasing smile. “You gotta use your words! I know humans are smarter than that.”

You pouted but gave in to his request. “Please! Please Swerve I want you to fuck me!”

“As you say,” Swerve gave in to the devil on his shoulder whispering into his intake to drop your weight on his spike.

The choked noise you made and how you tightened around him was somehow better than the shocked expression you made.

You were sat on his pelvis, pussy filly engulfing his spike with room for little else. Your sweet arousal leaked around him making his plating sticky with slick.

“You’re in my guts,” you choked out as tears came to your eyes.

Swerve leaned down to kiss the salty tears before they could run down your cheeks. “Feel good?” He asked starting to feel unsure if his impulsive action might have hurt you.

You nodded eagerly almost knocking your head against Swerve’s helm. He could only laugh in adoration at your desperation. “You’re tight,” Swerve said breathlessly. “I don’t think I’ve been with anyone this tight.”

“I’ve never been with someone this big,” you panted as you slowly began rolling your hips.

For some reason that sentence managed to make a nest within his processor. Unless you’ve been in the berth with other mechs you wouldn’t have been with someone as big as him. The idea that he was the first mech you’d ever fucked made his spark glow with need.

Swerve changed the position so your upper back was against his berth while he held your lower body in his servos. He curled his frame over yours to capture your pleasing lips into another kiss. He was going to show you how much better he was than any human you had ever been with. He was going to prove just how worthy he was in being your first mech.

You held onto his helm as you moved your lips against his then whined into his intake when he started his frantic thrusting.

He plowed into you like he’d lose you if he stopped. You could feel the backs of your thighs and your rear start to sting from making sharp fast contact with his metal plating.

The more you thought about it the more it scared you how strong Swerve was compared to you. Despite his rabbit like pace, Swerve was still holding back so he wouldn’t hurt you. He was managing to keep his pistons in place well enough to not break your pelvis.

You could feel his fat cable pushing your walls open and the thickest parts rubbing against your G-spot.

You finally had to pull away from Swerve’s intake to catch your breath earning a frustrated whine from the mech. He pushed forward trying to capture your lips once again but when you tilted your head up and away he settled on drowning your neck in love bites and kisses.

“Please,” Swerve begged between slathering your neck in love. “Please it’s so good!”

What he was begging for you weren’t sure but you tilted your hips up more in response.

The wet clapping that filled the room would be lodged in Swerve’s processor until his spark went cold. The feeling of your velvety walls pulsing around him was something he couldn’t believe he had lived all these years without. Swerve was sure that if he wasn’t inside of you fucking your body with all he had he would surely die.

“It’s too much!” You cried out tears prickling from the corners of your eyes. “It’s too big!”

Swerve tucked his helmet against the space between your neck and shoulder trying to memorize your scent. “I got you,” Swerve moaned. “You can take it.” He struggled through the last sentence as your walls clamped down on him like a beat trap. He could feel your body shiver and squirm in his iron grip as your orgasm overcame you. Your mouth was open in an O shape as your eyes were squeezed shut.

Swerve wrapped his metal arms around your body holding you flush to his frame as you rode out your orgasm. He swore he hadn’t seen a sight more beautiful than your body shivering in bliss in his grasp. He had never heard a sound more beautiful than how you shakily moaned out his name as he punched the air out of your lungs with each thrust.

You whined in his arms as his thick spike dragging along your walls soon became overwhelming. You were spread so wide and so sensitive you were sure your body was unraveling.

You could feel coolant tears dripping onto your body as Swerve sobbed in pleasure. “I love you!” He cried holding you like you were his last tether to this mortal realm. “Frag I love you so much!”

He could feel his valve clenching and his spike becoming more sensitive. The way you squeezed around him was becoming too much and before he could warn you as to what was happening, a thick stream of transfluid shot out of him filling your cunt to the point of leaking.

You shuddered at the warmth his overload brought inside of you. His fluid was almost unbearably hot as it sat in your womb. You could only concentrate on the feeling of being so unbelievably full with both his spike and his cum stuffed inside of you.

You shuddered and twitched in his hold all the while Swerve just clung to you like a teddy bear.

“Are you okay?” Swerve asked, his cooling fans whirring at their highest setting.

“S’good,” you managed to dribble out feeling like your body was no longer yours but instead a bowl of gelatin.

“Primus you feel so good,” Swerve groaned while stroking your hair. “Don’t make me pull out please. You’re so warm and soft and tight.” Swerve’s words slurred together as he gently started moving his hips once again.

You shivered and cried out pulling your legs close to your body as the overstimulation started to set in. “Too much!” You wailed shakily.

Swerve immediately stopped his humping but you couldn’t miss the last thrust he got in. “Sorry,” he mumbled against your neck. “Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Yes,” you sighed while running your hands up his helm. “Please don’t pull out.”

Swerve lifted his helm to plant a wet and loud kiss on your cheek. “I didn’t plan to.”

[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.”

[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.

[megtrns]

not to sound insane but i'm bedridden at the thought of being intimate with these giant bots — no, not interfacing (although that's also great), but rather the nervous brushing of fingers against servos, the firm press of skin against metal, the bend and curve of muscle to cradle the shape of their armors. 

fort max, who came to life in the crux of war and violence, wiping a stray eyelash from the corner of your eye, servos faintly trembling as they tentatively cross the space between your bodies. unsure and afraid of hurting you, he tries not to exert too much effort, constantly reminding himself that just because his mass was displaced doesn't mean he didn't have the strength to tear mechs apart with his bare hands. his optics, garnet red under the distant starlight, soften the moment you lean your cheek against his open palm; the skin under his touch, smooth and organic and alive with a warmth he didn't know existed. 

brainstorm running his digits playfully over your face — tickling your nose, your chin, your ear — causing you to giggle against the pillows as he conducts a thorough examination for the purpose of 'science', using it as an excuse to 'stimulate your nerves' and make you smile. here, face to face with him above the mattress, with laughter embracing your bodies like a weighted blanket, you let him gently trace his servos across your lips. the scientist, drunk on studying you. 

swerve letting you throw your arms around his neck — body melting against his chest plates, nose already buried at the crook of his neck cables to express your sympathies. you were one of the few people who see through the chink in his optimistic armor, always trying to cheer him up even before he even realized he needs the comfort. and how can he not feel better already, when you were looking up at him like he hung the stars for you? 

perceptor catching himself in awe of human irises and the myriad of colors they take after. he thinks it's beyond fascinating that, for some, the eyes reflect the color of their seas, cerulean blue dissolving against white foam. and other times even the forest, their strange and halcyon woodlands dense with emerald trees that sway with the wind. but most curious of all, he thinks, is the color of the earth : darker than rust yet radiant like the sun — a shade that doesn't naturally occur on his planet, swimming like liquid gold behind your eyes.

megatron, elusive and distant, anchored by the delicate weight of your fingers above his servos. when he saw your hand sliding across your lap from under the metal table — using the distraction caused by whirl in the middle of a crowded night at swerves — to move closer to his, megatron had thought about stopping you. he thought about retracting his hand to excuse himself back to his hab-suite. but the ex-warlord is tired and worn, powerless against the sight of your affections. so he let it happen — and it was fleeting, only a brush and barely a touch. yet it went straight to his spark like a jolt of electricity. just like that, under your fragile, tiny hands, the mighty has fallen. 

[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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[revelboo]

begging for more swerve content 🙏

I need that man. carnally

He’s not quite there yet, but eventually.

Ah, that moment when you have the dawning realization that you’re getting sick. At least it’s a three day weekend so I won’t miss work?

Lost Control Pt 4

Swerve x Reader

• Walking across the bar, you put your shoulder against what you’re sure is an alien shot glass even though it’s big enough you could fit in it, and push it over to Swerve. It’s not heavy at all and slides easily enough. And he grins the second he sees you, reaching to take it and wash it. It’s not like there’s a lot else you can do to be helpful because of your size compared to them, but you also can’t just sit. Too used to being busy all the time in your old life. Jogging back down the bar to fetch another glass, you’re aware of the looks you’re getting from the patrons. Most of them used to humans since you’re hardly the first one on the ship, there’s quite a few apparently. That little guy about Swerve’s size keeps trying to coax you over and you’ve been avoiding him and his big, evil looking buddy both for hours. You’ve already had two other giant robots pat you on the head like a puppy. Shoving the next glass over, you risk a look and the little guy is wiggling his servos at you again. “What is his deal?” You whisper to Swerve.

• Primus, you’re adorable. “Unfortunately for you, humans fall into that weird category where we either think you’re weird or the cutest thing ever,” he says, grinning as your frown. “And Tailgate? Pretty sure he’d accidentally cuddle you to death if you get within reach.” And that doesn’t bother him. At all. Certainly doesn’t make him want to keep you as far from Tailgate as possible. Because the idea of the other bot sweet talking you or handling you bothers him.

• Wrinkling your nose, you glance at the other bot. Honestly it wouldn’t surprise you at all if he started making noises at you like you were a stray cat he’s trying to lure. “Great.” Keeping close to Swerve, you sit down on the bar near him and the safety he represents. Because Swerve you know and he doesn’t paw at you like you’re a baby kitten. “He understands I’m sentient, right?”

• “Well, yeah, but you’re tiny. Uh, no offense.” But you just shoot him a bemused smile and shrug. “Just stick with me. I won’t let anyone molest you.” Grinning when you laugh at him like he just made a joke, but he’s dead serious. Sure, he’s not the biggest bot, but he’s not totally helpless either. And he enjoys playing hero. Being your hero. Your guardian.

• “I can rest easy knowing you’re there to protect my virtue,” you tease, leaning to peek at the other bot and relaxing when you see he’s talking to his creepy pal. Giving up on you for the time being. When you look back at Swerve, he’s just staring at you. “You okay?” Arching a brow as he nods and busies himself washing glasses. What had that expression been? Had you said something wrong? Or maybe the phrase hadn’t translated?

Previous

[drabbletron]

headcanon: Swerve is the best at dirty talk because he never shuts up, Megatron is the best at dirty talk because he's so poetic, Skids is the best at dirt talk because he learns all the right things to say, Ratchet is the best at dirty talk because of experience, and Rodimus is the best at dirty talk because he's too proud to be less than the best at it.

[bugboioli23]

Swerve x Human!Reader

Disclaimer: I haven't written fic for a few years so my skills are gonna be a bit shit to be honest, any criticism is welcome and id love to hear what you guys think ��

THIS IS 18+ - size difference, valveplug, oral sex, fingerfucking, doggy style, riding - 2911 words - AFAB reader but no pronouns are used

You and Swerve had been friends since you stepped foot on the Lost Light. Something about his chatterbox personality and sitcom-like humor had you beaming whenever you were around him. The best nights were spent perched on the edge of the bar counter, rambling for hours on end with Swerve. Tonight was one of those nights. It was after the doors had closed, the bar empty and silent aside from the laughter ricocheting from the both of you. 

“Really?!” You yelped, eyes wide in surprise as you stared at the grinning minibot.

“I'm telling you! You wouldn't believe the amount of mechs who come by here asking for you!” Swerve replied with a chuckle, shaking his helm in shared disbelief. “Not only that but they actually think they could frag you! I'm probably one of the few bots on here who could frag you full sized.” Swerve paused, face freezing for a second as he quickly backtracked on his statement. “I mean- not that we would- NOT THAT I WOULDN'T WANT TO- I'm sure you’d make a lovely frag- NOT LIKE THAT- I JUST MEANT- im sorry- ” Swerve seemed to shrink in on himself as he continued to mumble to himself anxiously.

Your face burned red at the idea. The thought of a bot being stuffed between your folds, trembling at the foreign sensation of the wet flesh of your cunt. You wondered about the anatomy that laid hidden under the panels of your metallic friends. How similar are you compared to them? Just how compatible are your species? You already had gotten an enlightening talk from Brainstorm about Cybertronian anatomy after you explained human anatomy to him. (For his holoforms of course. No other reason.) You knew what you could take, but the fresh reality that this could happen left blood rushing south. 

“Uhm…  ____? You good? I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, I’m sorry.” Swerve looked at you apologetically. His light pout and the puppy eyes you could barely see behind his visor brought forth images that made warmth surge through your body once more. How would Swerve act if you asked him to fuck you? He seemed like the type of Cybertronian who wouldn’t mind a little experimenting with humans. He seemed like the type to whimper; the type to beg. 

Heat flushed through your face as reality caught back up to you. You flashed him a bright smile and waved your hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m alright. Just thinking.” You glanced at Swerve, who looked unconvinced. “Hey, weren’t you and Blurr going to open a bar before you came here?” You asked out of nowhere, hoping to turn his attention onto something else. It seemed to work because he was already telling you about how Blurr was secretly his best friend. While the bartender was distracted, you let your thoughts turn back to the ideas at hand. You found Swerve to be adorable, the way he seemed to always work with a smile despite people talking poorly about him. His fascination with your species’ tv and music and how he would light up when you offered another film for movie nights. After tonight’s conversation, you decided it’s now or never to shoot your shot with him.

“Swerve?” You looked him up and down with a smile, interjecting his speech on Blurr’s latest record break. “Do you think fragging a human would be possible?” You spoke sweetly, letting your voice fall an octave to emphasize your intentions. 

“Uhm, wouldn't Ratchet be better at answering that than I would?” Swerve thought he was hearing things. In his mind there was no possible way that you just asked what you had asked. His head must've made that up. It had to be some kind of self inflicted auditory hallucination. The way you smiled softly and rested a hand on his arm before leaning closer must also be a trick of the optics.

“Swerve, darling. I asked you for a reason.” You replied coyly, glancing up at him with an endearing grin. He felt his intake hitch and a sliver of charge run down his frame. 

“Oh.” He choked out, face tinted with the rush of energon. His cooling fans kicked on with just the mere suggestion of what tonight could entail. “I- I suppose we could- figure it out…” He grinned shyly.

“That’s a good mech.” You purred, wide grin never faltering as you hopped down from the counter. You sauntered out of the bar with a new sense of confidence, only pausing to gesture to him to follow before the doors closed behind you. Swerve had to take a minute to collect his thoughts before practically sprinting after you.

Your habsuite was uniquely modified for your species. Instead of a hard metal berth, you had a cushy soft bed adorned with a mass of plushies, pillows and blankets. Soft lighting glowed from lower points in the room instead of one harsh light from above. It had your special charm to it, and Swerve wanted to spend every moment he could in there with you. 

“So,” You started plopping yourself down on the edge of your bed, patting the spot next to you, “I’m going to skip all the pleasantries here, I want you to fuck me.”

Swerve let out a whine, feeling a surge of arousal flooding through his systems. His spike pressurized quickly, becoming heavy behind his panels with an embarrassingly loud thud. “Did you have to be so bold about it?” He hissed through clenched dentae as you gazed at him with desire. 

“I think it’s more fun to watch your reactions.” You hummed contentedly before climbing into his lap, “Can I kiss you? Would that be okay?” You spoke softly, but your eyes never left his face. Swerve nodded hastily, servos hovering above your body anxiously. His intake opened to start a flood of questions but you cut him off with a kiss, exploring the foreign texture of his pliable metallic face. The strange rubbery feeling of his glossa felt wonderfly new against the soft muscle of your tongue. You let out a soft noise of pleasure against his mouth before you were interrupted by a snap of panels retracting and an enticing pressure laying heavy on your thigh. 

“Oh- Slag, sorry I- you’re so- I wasn’t able to-,” Swerve began, but you pressed a finger to his lips as you looked down to study the new part of him. It was about 8 inches long, the red tip of it already leaking prefluids. It was mostly white, with a stripe of red along the underside decorated with biolights which pulsed needily. You trailed your hand lightly along the length, your fingers barely unable to touch around the girth of it. You looked back up at Swerve who was hiding behind his servos, face tinted pink with energon. 

“Listen… I know I’m not as big as other bots but please… don’t stop whatever you were planning to do.” Swerve mumbled shyly, peeking at you between his digits.

“Oh, hun. You don’t have to worry about anything. You’ve got more than enough for me to enjoy.” You smiled, sliding off his lap to kneel between his legs. “May I?” You asked, wanting to explore his anatomy further. 

He let out a shaky exvent with a nod and you ran your fingers along the grooves and panels of the Cybertronian anatomy. It wasn’t until you had gotten eye level with his spike that you had noticed his valve. It was dripping with transfluid and the hooded node was glowing a beautiful blue. You looked up at him from your position, eyes full of lust. 

“Change of plans. Lean back for me, I’ve gotta taste you.” You purred, firmly pushing against his midsection lightly as he rested his back against the wall of pillows. You gently pushed his thighs open and trailed two fingers against the slick folds of his valve, coating your fingers in the sticky substance. You studied your digits before popping them into your mouth. The pink fluid was metallic and sour, but addicting in a strange way. You wanted more. Spreading his folds with one hand, you delved into his valve. Swerve watched, entranced by the way you slid the flat of your tongue against him. The sensation made him let out soft groans, which encouraged you more. You took your other hand and gently circled his anterior node, ghosting the edges of it teasingly. Your tongue dove into his entrance and you felt the inner calipers twitch and throb with need. 

“Oh frag… you’re good a-at this. I’m- hnghh… I don’t have enough stamina for t-this!” Swerve whined as you moved the hand separating his folds and you backed away from his plush valve.

“Don’t worry, you are doing so good. Just lie back and let me take care of you, okay?” You cooed and went back to lapping at the transfluid that fell from his folds. One hand finally gave his anterior node pressure while your other hand went up to stroke at his spike lazily. The result of your combined actions had Swerve clawing at the sheets, his intake falling open as he gasped and mewled out so many words you couldn’t tell what he was saying until it was too late. 

Warm fluid gushed over your face as he overloaded while you were still tongue deep in his valve. His spike throbbed in your hand as you felt more transfluid land in your hair and shoulder. 

“FRAG- Ah- hah…!” Swerve whined as his frame trembled through the aftershocks. “Oh slag im so sorry!” His visor came back online just in time to witness your mouth and jaw covered in dripping pink fluids.

You licked your lips and wiped your face with your shirt before taking it off and tossing it aside. “Hey.. hey no worries. It’s okay. You’re okay.” You kissed his cheek, patting his thigh softly. “You did amazing. I’m so glad I could make you feel good.” 

Swerve let out another high whine, seeing your chest bare before him. He slowly raised his servos to graze the flesh around your nipples. You sighed softly and raised your hands to press his servos more firmly to your skin. Swerve was still panting from his previous overload but he leaned in to press his lips gently against your sternum. His servos wandered up to press and massage at your nipples, circling them like you did to his node earlier. Your back arched, pushing your chest further into his servos as your mouth fell open softly. Swerve looked up at you, visor glowing with excitement and awe. “You’re stunning. I mean- frag, look at you, coated with my overload. Mine…” He breathed out, eyes trailing down your body to rest at your pants. He seemed to swallow before shakily continuing. “D-Do you still want me t-to..you know.. t-”

“I still want you to fuck me, Swerve.” You finished for him, moving your hands to swiftly undo the buttons of your pants, pulling off your undergarments at the same time and tossing them behind you. You grabbed onto his wrist and guided his fingers up towards your wet folds. Swerve got the hint and gently worked one finger into the tight heat of your cunt. He could feel the gentle pulse and pull of your walls around his digit, and he could barely imagine what it would feel like around his spike. After he felt you loosen up a bit, he slid in a second digit. You let out a gasp and a soft groan at the stretch, knowing that this was just the beginning if you wanted to be prepared to take his spike. 

Swerve gently curled and flexed his digits, exploring your sex thoroughly as his processor worked overtime to memorize which movements felt the best for you. His audials turned to max sensitivity to be sure he could hear every whine and murmur of praise that fell from your lips. He could feel the second rush of energon repressurising his spike the more he pumped his digits into you. You glanced down between the both of you to smirk at his array before leaning in and pressing another kiss to his jaw.

“Awh, look at you,” You cooed, lifting your hips up to grind the tip of his spike against your clit. Swerve let out a strained whine as his hips bucked up involuntarily. Your smirk only grew. “You’re such a pretty mech for me.”

“Hnf s-stop…” Swerve whispered bashfully, turning his helm away as energon rushed to his faceplates once more.

“I mean it.” You continued, slowly easing yourself down on his spike as you guided his gaze to meet yours. Swerve’s intake fell open and his spinal struts arched as your body enveloped his length. His servos flew to your hips when he finally bottomed out inside you. The heat of your cunt pressed upon every sensor and node on his spike with such certainty that he could barely concentrate on your words. 

“Hhoh fraggghh, how are you s-so- so-ooHHFRAG-” Swerve had started to speak but you decided that now was the time to lift your hips and slam yourself back down. You started to ride the mech like an animal, your hips popping up halfway only to quickly push him back inside. Swerve let out a chorus of moans and yelps as his servos twitched against the soft plush of your thighs, squeezing every now and then to ground himself. It wasn’t until your legs started to burn that you were reminded of something. You quickly stopped your movements and grinned down at Swerve as he abruptly gasped and looked at you with a beautiful expression of desperation. 

“Wh-why- why’dya stop?” Swerve asked, his speech slurred from the sudden absence of pleasure.

“Sorry, but I just remembered that you’re the one who’s supposed to be fucking me.” You pulled yourself off of his spike and he let out a pathetic mewl at the loss of your body. His pout was quickly wiped from his face when he witnessed you getting down on all fours and slyly shaking your hips at him. You turned to smirk over your shoulder at him as he gawked at you. Not another second had passed before Swerve was on top of you, his spike easily finding its way back into your slick folds. He started pounding into you, the weight of his body pressing down nicely on your back as he mounted you.

“Mnh, there you go, good boy Swerve.” You moaned out as his spike pistoned in and out of you, shoving your body into the mattress. Swerve was brought to a mindless ramble as your pussy sucked him in deeper and tightened around him.

“Ahfraggingprimusyouretight-“ Swerve whimpered as you clenched around him harder. Your body trembled as you felt his spike throb inside you. Swerve hovered over you, intertwining his servos over your fingers as he thrust into you rapidly. “F-Frag, ____ I’m not gonna l-last much longer-“

“Good, keep going. I want you to fill me with your transfluid. Overload in me like the good mech you are.” You grinned against the mattress, turning to look at him smugly, reaching down between your legs to rub at your clit. Swerve leaned down to mewl and whine against the back of your neck as he chased his own pleasure, pushing your hips further up with every pump of his hips. 

“Fuck, Swerve- I’m-!“ You felt your eyes roll back at the drag of his thickness against your walls and you let out a filthy moan as you hit your climax. You felt the slick of your cum coat his panels as your sex tightened  around him. The whimper that left his vocalizer was angelic as he let his spike empty itself within you. Thick ropes of transfluid coated your insides, the warm sensation of sheer fullness bringing you back down from your high. Your body continued to pulse around his spike, milking him of the last of his overload as he gave a few final lazy thrusts. 

The two of you lay there panting for a while before he slowly pulled out of you, watching in awe as his cum started to slide down your thighs. You slowly turned and sat up, feeling your combined fluids seeping out of you and onto the sheets. 

“Ah… that was… let me get you a towel.” Swerve gasped, stepping to the closet to grab a towel to wipe you down with, wetting it with warm water before gently cleaning you. He lifted and placed you on the other side of the bed, putting the used towel over the wet spot after cleaning and closing his panels. 

You stared at the red and white mech with unveiled adoration as he finally sat next to you again. You leaned in and peppered his face with kisses as he gently rubbed your thigh. 

“Swerve, you do know how to keep your mouth shut about some things, right?” You murmured sleepily, hoping the bartender could keep his mouth shut for at least a week or two before word got out that the human is a mechfucker.

“Uhuh, yeah. Definitely.” Swerve nodded with determination. You sighed with a small smile, already accepting that your next appearance in the bar would not be the same after this.