swervesbootycall - Tumblr blog

swervesbootycall · 2 months

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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.”

#valveplug #swerve/reader #oral #hell yeah yell heah

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