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pinkanonwrites · 3 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.”

#transformers #valveplug #mtmte #swerve #transformers swerve #transformers x reader #swerve x reader #x reader #maccadam #nsft #long post #my writing

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virusimp · 4 months

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hai‼️it's something new for me to write my first little fanfic in English and.. nsfw?? but my curiosity was stronger than my worries, so here it is.

[ warnings: no one ]

[ valveplug, valve fingering, desperation, crying, Starscream being pathetic again, need, not a very detailed interface but gentle, gender neutral reader, dom reader, sub Starscream, human reader, kinda touch-starved??]

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

His body was cold to touch, his sharp ventilating was hitting your own soft human skin as if wanting to do small cuts covered with your pathetic blood just to see you suffer. Starscream has already told you more than once how pathetic and disgusting you are for a human. He was telling you that he hates you. But still, for some reason this bastard is moaning and squirming under your warm fingers now, screaming your own name and begging to do more because of his unbelievable hunger. Such a poor touch-starved bird.

Starscream whines loudly into pillow when you touch him right there with your damn fingers, that were already covered in his… pink transfluids? Oh Lord, you’ll joke about that after some time when he’ll forget about this situation between you and him, but not now. He’s too desperate for your love and you know that, praising him softly in his audio-sensors and making him look at you with those puppy eyes, really wanting to hear those words again and again with all his spark while you fragging him with your precious fingers. He’ll moan for you louder; he’ll cry for you and he’ll do anything for you… only if you continue to show your love and admiration. Only if you continue love him.

Anyone would use him for that pathetic trait, and the seeker is still shocked to see you with him, to see how your eyes look at him even now when he is a real wet mess. You do love him. You love him even if he treated you badly. You love him just for nothing and that’s confusing him. And that makes him sob quietly, still shuddering when you gently move your fingers inside of his valve.

“Is everything okay?” and again that question. His optics are watering and that’s your damn fault! Starscream tried to nod with quiet whine, but your sudden caress of his thigh makes him shudder and cry out with already broken vocalizer. He just overloaded because of your question? Or because it was too much for him and he would cum only because of realization that you care? Oh dear. You see him hardly ventilating, grasping the bedsheets under him with those trembling long thick claws. His valve was clutching around your fingers, not wanting to let go. Starscream in some sort of breakdown right now, he is overwhelmed with your actions and words. With your love.

“My star…” you carefully pulled out your fingers, wiping them from sticky fluids and moving closer to him. Your words made his wings flutter weakly, and now he is calling your name softly, desperately trying to find you through his own thoughts and fears. Starscream needs you, he always needed you. “It seems like everything was stronger for you this time?”

He still doesn't answer you for several minutes, shuddering weakly when you lie down next to him and gently embrace him. Oh Starscream needed that so badly right now, pulling you closer to him and tightening his grip on you. You can feel how damn painfully it is when he holds you with his claws as if wanting to merge you with his own body. You can feel the heat is coming from his systems, how his engines are purring quietly. It was painful to be with him but you can't do anything about this. Your deep scars or bruises on your skin was sign of Starscream's deep love for you.

“I guess… it was, human.”

oh he loves you so much.

#valveplug #dom reader #transformers prime #transformers x reader #starscream #transformers

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withoutalice · 22 days

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my anon confession is that I Would Devastator. I would. I wanna know if you do if you’ve done five guys or just one guy. Do you get five boyfriends or only one. if the five guys are around and you are only dating the One guy, do they have the immense urge to turn into that guy. Does he force them to combine and trap them in that state Because he wants kisses. I want to KNOW

...

did prowl send me this?

#jk anon this is gold xD #so so so real #i think they cuddle/give kisses in one form so there's more Kiss per Kiss?#idk everything else is a toss up depending on ur tastes ;)#transformers #suggestive #this is almost valveplug but i'm not that kinda blog so-#i am a robot appreciator so i don't mind aha #withoutalicespeaks!#asks #anon

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fiftyshadesofmetal · 5 days

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Do u have any NSFW headcanons about sunny?

WARNING: VALVEPLUG, feeder/vore mentions

Hi! SOO Glad you asked, I'll be putting it under the cut

Sorry for the lateish response, everythings been hectic lately ^^'

Okay so...

IDW1 Sunstreaker HC'S:

First off this mech likes to be in charge. After the stuff with the headmasters in IDW1, he hates loss of control, including during interfacing. He's def the dom in hookups and refuses to be tied/bound, but has no issue chaining another mech up to feel powerful in the berth. This is also why I think he prefers to spike with a fling or a hookup

If he's interfacing with someone he trusts, he doesn't love loss of control but he'll do it for them and ends up enjoying being a sub and being pampered- that's why I think he'd be a feedee or into petplay (both as the master and pet). The mech just can't get enough of being doted on and praised for his gorgeous frame, whether he's in fit shape or too stuffed full of food to even walk. He wouldn't naturally lean into giving up control, but when he does with a partner he really loves having his valve used

Speaking of his valve, Sunstreaker's interface array is probably modded and pierced. Mostly with girth enhancers on his shaft and a bar/ampallang style piercing (or a hoop through his head's slit and the side of the tip), and a piercing above his anterior node on his valve. Sunstreakers def confident in himself and his array, and I doubt he'd feel shame in the fact that he modded himself; to him, it all just makes him even more perfect and beautiful then he already was

With kinks, I of course write/draw him to fit my own interests but realistically? I think he enjoys bondage on others and petplay like I said, but also I'm gonna add oviposistion. I bet he likes the idea of being stuffed full of eggs and treated and praised like a king while carrying them (whether it's a fantasy in the berth or actually happening, he likes both. There are some GREAT sunstreaker oviposistion fics on Ao3 with insecticons ((NO BOB/SUNSTREAKER, ICK)). And probably edging/overload denial, he loves seeing someone at his total control and bidding like that, despretely begging for release...

For his turns offs it would be degradation, bondage on himself and cnc (Both from his time as a headmaster, it would remind him too much of it), and lets all be real, organics. Now of course thats if we're talking cannon sunny, I personally enjoy writing him paired with all kinds of humans or other organic species lmao

He's shit at aftercare. Like this mech can't do emotions and is so self-absorbed that he expects to taken care of after interface, even if he was domming and doing some intense shit with his partner.

I also don't think he would have a preference on gender; as long as his partner meets his insane standards (because not just anyone could be allowed to berth him of course) he couldn't care less about their presented gender.

I also am a big fan of vore but decided to not put that in here, but if anyone wants to hear my vore hcs for any of the characters I write for, feel free to ask!

Also keep on the lookout for a fic im posting soon that goes along with that one chubformers sketch of sunstreaker I did... perhaps containg vore? ;]

#chubformers #sunstreaker #valveplug #vore mention #transvoremers #feederist #transformers #idw sunstreaker #tabs asks

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wyrm-with-a-why · 5 months

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more swervemegs nonsense. (valveplug this time cause I don’t care and have no shame) there’s no logical way swerve could logically take her spike. it’s not physically possible UNLESS she does that shifting thing where she becomes smaller (mass shifting??). but i also just don’t think swerve would have a massive spike. average for a minibot. maybe thicker than average.

also she’d carry him everywhere. he’s like a purse dog.

Here me out - Swerve knows how big their size difference is so he buys the largest fake spikes he can(I read a fanfic once which involved massive toys and praise k1nks)

Or if he wants to feel her for real, she mass shifts to be whatever he wants(they can be switched but I prefer Megatron who just wants to be spiked)

#transformers #megatron #swerve #megatron x swerve #valveplug #ty for asking <3

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mychlapci · 4 months

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Nothing tickles my feral breeding kink fantasy quite like Optimus primal X dinobot - and I’d love to hear your thoughts on them 🧐🧐

A little fight for dominance? Primal shoving dinobot against the control panels, filling him up like that’s what he was made to do. Going apeshit (lol) at the idea of Dinobot heavy with their babies. Even though he knows it’s something he should never want on an alien planet in the middle of a war, his gorilla instincts demand no less.

Anyway 🤷‍♀️ I just think dinobot should be pregnant. Mothers and warriors are on like, the same level, and I think Dinobot would love to be both.

bad news. i have not seen beast wars… but you have touched on my favourite concept, which is big scary warrior is a perfect fit for motherhood. i eat that shit up.

hrhhh Primal experiencing a sudden burst of desire to dominate and taking it out on Dinobot, wrangling him to the ground and telling him how he will carry young for him. His breeding drive is basically going completely haywire and all rational thought is pushed aside as he makes Dinobot moan, pumping him full of his transfluid.

What we need is Dinobot, visibly pregnant, and not taking any shit. Motherhood is, after all, the real sign of a good warrior. Those who can carry to term must be skilled enough to protect their young.

#valveplug #ive seen so much bombass fanart of dinobots juicy pussy but alas i cannot get into beast wars #maybe one day i will #btw youre so real for this #text

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ikkosu · 3 months

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I give you my unhinged writing that is sorta valveplug-y territory. And yes, this involves poor little Lorelei.

(right after the last paragraph she sees Prowl outside her dorm building waiting for her lmao)

Emily is Chad. She is so real. Like, no really. Wouldn’t it be amazing if they glew in the dark like matchsticks while doing the icky. That’ll be so fucking cool also 👉👈 bet prowl’s gonna have a field day once she opens the door. Would’ve been funnier if she didn’t and he heard her grumbling about that shit to someone else on the phone. It’s only THEN she opens the door and prowl just goes : “It has been lately, that in some degree of my concern, my reproductive function is to be of your increasing interest.” His eyes narrow, and he leans in close. “Are these, I’m not sure if it’s even the right term, a ‘normal’ conerm for you Organics to discuss?”

#transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #idw prowl #prowl x reader #Lorei has chumps that r a menace LMAOO #Ikkoasks

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pinkanonwrites · 2 months

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Repaying The Favor

G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 4600+ words NSFW, Valveplug, Miscommunication, First Time, Oral Sex, AFAB Reader - They/Them Pronouns for reader

The sequel to "Oh! That's What That Does?!" is finally here! Same reader, same Rumble, same trying to figure each other out, only this time they get to slam down crazy-style about it. When will Frenzy get his turn in the spotlight? Eventually, I think! Maybe once I've finished a few other pet projects.

NSFW WRITING BELOW THE CUT!

It had been exactly fifteen days since you had last heard from Rumble.

Not that you’d been counting.

Sure, the cassettes probably had more important things to do than lounge around your workshop waiting for your attention, but that's exactly why it was so odd. They always had better things to do, things that they were pointedly avoiding doing by barging in on your work and taking up what little free space the shop had remaining. But since your little tryst with Rumble, you hadn't seen armor nor optic of any of the usual cassette bot suspects.

Maybe you'd broken some sort of ancient, space robot taboo that you'd never heard of. Or maybe Rumble was just embarrassed that he jizzed all over your jumpsuit. Either way, it wasn't like you had any way of getting ahold of them besides them dropping in, so there wasn't much to be done about the situation but wait.

You were leaving the corner store when you heard it, the cacophonous boom of a jet flying far too close to the tips of the skyscrapers overhead. The sound sent you reeling, bags crumpling to the sidewalk as you hurried to cover your ears. Down the street you could make out the screech of metal smacking against metal, see the flailing limbs of two massive robots staggering clumsily through the street as they traded blows with each other. Neither of them were one you recognized, the red Autobot with the oversized chest window wrestling one of the identical jet Decepticons into a clumsy headlock. As they stumbled about one of them trampled on a car parked along the curb, and you winced as the metal shrieked and crumpled under his massive foot.

Yeah, time to get out of here. You gathered up your bags and ducked into the alley between the buildings, slipping past trash bags and old graffiti, trying not to tread in any unidentifiable puddles. Off in the distance you could hear an emergency siren start to wail, hopefully signaling that whatever the space robots were quarreling over this time would be settled sooner rather than later. All you really wanted was to get back home without any further interruptions.

But as you emerged from the back alley entrance and found yourself hoisted into the air by two massive metal hands around your waist, you'd decided to kiss that chance goodbye. Your bags clattered to the ground once more, bread and fruit and canned goods spilling out around a familiar pair of pedes. When you glanced up to his faceplate, the glow of his visor was nearly enough to blind you.

“Rumble?!”

His visor dimmed enough that you could see his intake, which had just before been pulled into a maniacal grin, drop open in visible shock. Then, as quick as it came, it was gone, replaced instead with a tight, furrowed frown.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” He barked.

“Buying food. Or trying to, at least.” You glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Ravage pounce on that yellow Autobot with the horns that was always showing up in the news. “You guys having a little play date or something?”

He scoffed out a laugh, quickly stifling it with a clearing of his vents. “Whatsit matter to ya? Didn't think you cared dat much about lil’ old me.”

“Rumble, what…?” Was he seriously pouting? Or maybe trying to guilt trip you? For what, making him cum? “What are you even talking about? I haven't seen you in like, two weeks.”

“Aww, real funny! You know what I mean! I let you poke around in my chassis and run up my charge, an’ after that it's radio silence? Whaddya humans call it… ghosting? Make a mech feel like second-rate shareware, why don't ya?”

You blinked at him once, twice, mind spinning as you tried to process his words.

“Are you- are you mad I didn't call you?”

His optic lights beamed as he bristled, armor flaring with a hiss before clamping tight back to his frame. “I told you to comm me!”

“Rumble, I don't have your number! I couldn't call you even if I wanted to!”

His grip went slightly slack as he stared at you, leaving you dangling from your armpits like a cat.

“I… I hailed you my frequency. In da EM field.”

“Humans don't have… whatever that is. Do you have a phone number?”

He stared at you again, much longer this time as the discordant crashing of giant metal men continued in the background. Then, with a sudden jolt, you were slipping free of his fingers as he dropped you unceremoniously to the pavement. It wasn't a far fall, just enough to make your feet tingle upon landing. When you looked up you saw he had both servos covering his faceplate, a string of muffled curses eking out between the digits.

Your mind was reeling. He actually wanted you to call him? To… repay the favor? Heat pooled in the pit if your stomach as your mind conjured up wicked memories of his stifled gasps and whimpers, how he’d squirmed beneath you as you prodded around his spark chamber. How behind all the billowing and smashing and Brooklyn-accented bravado, when you got down to the core of him, he was actually kind of… cute.

“You- just- I don’t- Get outta here! Go on, scram! Before you get stomped on or somethin’!” His face plate was flushed and glowing as he shooed at you. You would go, that was certain, you really didn't want to get stepped on after all. But first you were going to say something potentially risky, deeply embarrassing, and undoubtedly very, very stupid.

“Come over.”

His optics shuttered, flickering for a moment as he stared down at you, frozen.

“What?”

“Not right now. Tonight. When you guys are done getting wailed on? Come over.”

He opened his intake, then closed it. When he opened it a second time you caught a wisp of steam slipping through the gap in his dentae. He swallowed, hard. He never stopped staring at you.

“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Awright. I'll be there.”

“Cool. Watch out for the yellow guy.”

“Huh-HGGRRK!?!” You stumbled back a few steps just in time for the Autobot to chuck Ravage directly into Rumble’s helm, sending him crashing into the brick wall beside you.

“Sorry! Are you alright?” The little Autobot called. “You should probably get out of here!”

He didn't have to tell you twice.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The news was just wrapping up their coverage on the ‘latest Decepticon assault’ when you heard a rap on your warehouse’s roll-up door. There wasn't much to see peering out the window, the street only haphazardly illuminated by old street lights. Not that you really needed to look, there was only one guest you were expecting at this time of night anyway.

You'd stopped at home first, mainly to take a shower and put on something that wasn’t a pair of mechanic’s overalls. But for some reason the nerves hadn't hit you until right now. You clamped down on the prickle of… anxiety? Excitement? Somewhere between the two? As you pulled the strap at the base of the roll-up, the groan of shifting metal slowly gave way to reveal…

“Are you wearing a bowtie?”

“Not bad, eh? Don't say I never cleaned up or nothin’. Here.” As Rumble stepped from the dark street into the light of the warehouse he pulled something from his subspace: a large, green bottle that he offered to you pinched between two fingers. A bottle of wine. Judging by the label, an expensive bottle of wine.

“Where did you get this?” You turned the bottle over twice in your grip, scanning the details on the back. French Merlot, aged… fifteen years? Holy shit.

“Dat fancy Italian place on the corner of Fourth and Vine! What, ya don't like it?”

“I didn't say that!” Rumble positively beamed as you clutched the bottle. “I just didn't expect it, is all. Are you… wining and dining me right now?”

“Is dat a good thing or a bad thing? Your human movies said you’re ‘sposed to bring a little somethin’ somethin’ before, y’know,” There was a sly, lopsided charm to his grin as he pulled the roll-up back down with his pede, clanking shut behind him, “Before you let me run your charge for a change.”

“You know, you don't have to try so hard to im…press… me.” You trailed off, staring down at the bottle in your hands, then back up to him, then back at the bottle, then him again. When you made eye contact with him the slyness seemed to falter a bit, leaving behind something softer in his smile. Something a little more vulnerable.

How did it take this long for it to click for you? He was wearing a bowtie, for Christ’s sake.

“Oh my God you're trying to impress me.”

“Eh?” A fidgeting servo tugged at his bowtie- which appeared to be made of… an old seatbelt? “Nah, you're crazy! Dis is jus’ what humans are ‘sposed to do!”

“Oh my God you are!”

“H-Hey, what'd I say about you and gettin’ big ideas?” He tried to deter you, but your mind was already racing a mile a minute.

“Do you actually like me? Like, want to date me? Do alien robots even date, cause I didn't know th- MMPH!”

With a massive metal palm pressed to your chest, Rumble pushed you back into your adjustable work table, still sitting at a mostly upright angle from the last time you'd repaired him. The table against your back was cold, a sharp contrast to the radiating heat from his servo as he pinned you in place with his hand. His face was inches from yours as he leaned over you, visor now gleaming with frustration and embarrassment.

“You can't get enough of dis, huh? Like pushin’ my buttons so much?” His servo pinned you down just a touch harder, forcing the air from your lungs in a breathy wheeze. “‘Oh, it's so fun to get Rumble all flustered! Lemme mess wit’ his head a lil more!’ Well maybe it’s Ol’ Rumble’s turn to do da messin’ around, huh? See how you like it when someone’s toyin’ with your sensitive bits.”

He bared his dentae as he spoke, another hiss of steam curling around your cheeks. It made your hair stand on end. A hot thrill ran through you, and you fought the urge to let your knees knock together, confident that Rumble would be able to keep you in place with brute strength alone. You could feel his thumb smoothing back and forth across your shirt, and as he glanced down at his servo the glare of his visor lessened slightly.

“...Why’s your fuel pump goin’ all crazy? You scared or somethin’?”

You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, willing your foggy mind to function. “Not… Not scared, exactly.”

There were a few seconds of tense silence, before the wickedest, prideful grin crept back up across his faceplate.

“Oh? Is dat so?” His other servo rose to grip the top edge of the table, fingers molding to fit the dent he’d left there previously as he loomed over you. “Well maybe we oughta do somethin’ about tha- SCRAP!”

His flirtations were cut short by the sharp SNAP of the stabilizing lock on your workbench failing under Rumble’s weight and flipping 180 degrees over. The world pitched and spun as you tumbled backwards, yelping as the table flipped and deposited you upside-down on the floor, legs sticking akimbo in the air. From between your dangling feet you could see Rumble peering over you with his sly expression wiped off his visor by one of concern.

“Slag! I didn't crush your little pedes when you flipped, did I? Cause I don't no nothin’ about fixin’ up injured squishies.”

Miraculously, you had managed to make it through that ass-over-elbow fall without hitting your head on anything, or Rumble accidentally pinning your legs in place between his bulk and the table frame. “I’m alright! Just didn't expect it, I’m okay.”

“Dat’s good. Here lemme jus’-” You felt a servo close around each of your ankles. With an effortless tug Rumble dragged you back up, tabletop tipping with you as it clunked back into its standard, flat position. Of course, this now left you with your ass and legs dangling off the edge of the workbench, Rumble standing between them with a servo resting on each knee. “Better?”

You sucked in a breath, trying desperately not to look overeager. “Better.”

“Ah, slaggit all…” But instead of putting his servos back on you (where you most certainly wanted them) Rumble began to scratch at the back of his neck, failing to meet your gaze. “Guess I ain't really cut out for all this… whaddaya call it? ‘Winin’ and dinin’?’ Can't even get my servos on ya without fraggin’ it up.”

“Hey, I’m definitely not complaining.” You attempted a jokey tone, but it didn't seem to do much to dampen Rumble’s current self-deprecation. You let the playful edge fall away as you dropped into something a bit softer. “I mean it though. You don't have to try to impress me. I mean it's appreciated! But, y’know, I wouldn't have agreed to this if I wasn't already happy with the bot I was getting into it with.”

“Heh. Even if I end up crushin’ you a bit?”

“That's a risk I'm willing to take.”

He barked out another laugh, accompanied by a coil of thin steam hissing through his gap-dentae. “Well I guess I better make it worth da risk, shouldn't I?”

He snuck a servo under each of your knees, pushing them apart as he rocked his modesty panel against your clothed core. You stifled a gasp, the ridge of sturdy metal almost hot against you, even through layers of cotton and denim. The slow roll of his hips made your own stutter up off of the table, desperate for further friction.

“Cute. You like grindin’ on my panel? Should I make you bust jus’ like this?”

Despite the warm curl of arousal pooling in your stomach from the feeling, you knew this wouldn't be enough to get you off. Rumble seemed to know it too, letting out a low, pleased chuckle at your desperate expression.

“Jus’ yankin’ yer crankcase, sweetspark. I got somethin’ a lot more fun in mind for tonight anyway. Dat is, if you'll start gettin’ dese off.” He hooked a digit through your belt loop and gave them an experimental tug.

“Mmh, what, you don’t want to take them off yourself?”

“Oh, I’ll gladly take ‘em off ya. Just figured you’d take care of dis part here…” His thick digits slid inward, ghosting over the button of your jeans. “So I don't gotta rip ‘em off ya instead.”

You weighed your options. On one hand, the image of Rumble tearing denim apart with his bare servos as if it was no more than wet tissue paper was far more appealing to you than you would have originally expected. On the other hand… well, they were new jeans.

“I got it.” You mumbled, quietly filing the image away in your brain for later use as you undid your button and zipper. “Careful with th- Oh!”

With a sharp yank, Rumble tugged your jeans and underwear off your legs and let them crumple onto the floor. Shoving himself into the space between your knees, you could only barely make out the top of his helm over the slope of your stomach as he knelt before you, spreading your folds with two digits and… staring.

You waited for a response, a quip, the slow drag of metal over your slick hole, but were instead greeted with silence. Something prickled in the pit of your stomach as you fought the urge to squirm. In the back of your mind you vaguely remembered that you hadn't really gotten to see what Rumble was packing, and only now were you grappling with the truth that you were trying to have sex with a truly alien being. Would your bodies even be compatible? Was he weirded out right now? You tried to pull your knees together, only to be stopped by a rough servo shoving them back open.

“...It's rude to stare.” You muttered.

“EY! I ain't starin’! I'm, uh, admirin’. Dat’s it.” There was a similar tightness to Rumble’s voice. You shuddered as a thumb stroked the crease of your thigh. “Soft… An’ it's supposed to be dat pink?”

“Y-Yeah… that's, mmh, normal.” You shuddered at a wave of steam curling over your sensitive heat as he spread you again, visor locked on your twitching entrance.

“Primus. And you're really gonna let me spike ya in this tiny little hole?” You could feel his thumb just brushing the rim and stifled a groan at the sudden, aching emptiness, the demand to be filled. “I don't wanna tear you in half or nothin’.”

“It’ll fit.” You whined, core tensing around nothing. “We’re, unh, we’re pretty flexible. C’mon, Rumble…” You forced your knees further apart, pushing your hips up into each of Rumble's far-too-light touches. His motor snarled in response, a massive hand gripping the inside of each of your thighs.

“Slag. You're really achin’ for it, aren’tcha?” His voice was lower than you'd ever heard it before, deep and resonant and primal. “But I ain't gonna give it to ya dat easy, doll. Gotta make sure you can take it first.”

He raised his helm for just a moment, just enough for you to get a peek of his beaming visor and his wicked, gap-toothed grin between your legs. Then he descended, lathing his thick, hot glossa up the length of your cunt. You choked on a gasp, his servos the only thing keeping your hips from rabbiting up off the table. It was hot, his glossa thick and sturdy and drooling with oral lubricant, a thin layer of silicon over sturdier metal mesh dragging up through your folds.

“Easy, sweetspark…” You weren't the only one enjoying themselves. Rumble's low, rattling groan pulsed through your cunt. You swore you could just barely make out him groaning your name but it was lost, muffled as he pressed his faceplate further between your legs and his servos shivered where they gripped your thighs. He was messy and all too eager, arousal and oral lubricant spilling down his chin as his glossa stroked you; slow, deliberate drags up your folds until you were left dripping. At the apex he found your clit and took it between his dermas, a teasing hum rattling throughout his engine that had you gasping, thighs clenching around his thick helm. Your legs jerked as warmth bloomed outward from your core, hips writhing against the onslaught of pleasure. Dragging across his back your heel caught in a rounded divot, pulling a raggedy vent through Rumble’s dentae as his frame twitched.

“”Mmpfh!~ E-Ey, watch da spindle. It’s sensitive in dere…” He groaned, face still pressed into your cunt, servos only dragging your ass further off the table in his efforts to get somehow even closer to you. But instead you dug your heel in harder, pressing into the ridged divot and twisting your leg. The internal ring jerked with a sudden CLICK CLICK CLICK, each pop of noise making Rumble’s frame spasm like he'd just been electrocuted. “FRAG! Primus, that’s- ghh!~”

“Feel good?” You teased, breathless. His optics beamed back up at you, an oscillating, glistening red as you caught another peek of his gap-toothed grin from between your legs.

“So dat’s how you wanna play dis? Don't say I didn't warn ya, doll.”

You barely had a chance to respond before the noise was punched out of your lungs in a sharp whine as Rumble shoved a thick, metal digit into your drooling cunt. Achingly hard, unrelenting, he flexed it against your rippling walls as his dermas nestled themselves snugly around your clit. The hum reverberating through his frame coursed through your body like a wave, hands scrabbling desperately at his helm as the twinge of pain at the sudden intrusion melted into thick, syrupy pleasure.

“A-ah, fuck! Rumble, Rumble that's good, that's fucking good.~” Metal clanged as you lolled your head back against the table top, no longer able to keep it upright. Each drag of his digit, textured and ridged and unrelenting, sparked euphoria behind your eyelids. You felt every muscle in your body starting to prickle with pleasure, radiating outwards from your cunt and pooling in your head, your stomach, the tips of your toes…

You all but whined when he drew his digit away, dermas releasing your swollen clit with a slick pop. “C’mon! Rumble!”

“You want it dat bad, huh?” A shadow cast over your rumpled form as Rumble rose to his full height. From between your legs you could catch a glimpse of silver and blue panels fluttering and folding away, one of Rumble’s servos hiking the underside of your knee and the other stroking the gap between his thigh and pelvic armor as his spike rose to full attention. Christ, he was huge, the thick metal rod draped across your lower stomach as he rocked experimentally against you. Each thrust had the tip drooling a translucent, pinkish fluid you remembered scrubbing from the back of your jumpsuit, hot and vaguely smelling of well-oiled machinery and pooling across your bare stomach.

Rumble, for his part, seemed to be as entranced as you felt, visor vibrant and flickering as he stared down at the place his frame rubbed against your soft, supple body. A harsh ex-vent punctuated each roll of his hips, steam coiling around the corners of his slack, open intake as he pulled back, letting the tip of his spike slide wetly through your folds.

“Dat’s it, doll… You're gonna get exactly what you want. Gonna get you bouncin’ on dis spike, jus’ beggin’ for it…” His tone was low, entranced, just barely tinged with desperation. He dragged his tip through your folds again, and again, covering your cunt with his thick transfluid, making your breath hitch whenever he slid over your clit just right. You angled your hips up, guiding it right over your entrance, toes curling at the promise of pressure.

But before you could utter his name again, or any other placation or demand, you felt the heavy press, the slow, aching slide as he entered you. It teetered just on the edge of pain, muscles twinging at your inner thighs as you forced your legs wider to accommodate his bulky armor. And his spike offered just as little give, covered with a thin layer of silicon like his glossa but still distinctly sturdy, inflexible metal. Your walls rippled helplessly around the intrusion, stretched to a delicious degree as he bullied his way inside you.

About halfway to being fully sheathed in your heat he paused, visor hazy and unfocused, intake still hanging open as he vented steam. A servo was resting on each of your hips, but while one stayed in place the other slid up, up, bunching your shirt around his digits and shoving it up above your chest. There his servo paused on your side, his massive thumb stroking back and forth over your nipple, quickly pebbling under the cool metal.

“Primus.” He breathed, distinctly softer than you ever remember hearing him before (and oh, if that didn't do just as much for your arousal as everything else). Finally, his hips began to move again, that intoxicating ache only beginning to border on near-unbearable when you could feel your ass and the backs of your thighs smushed against his pelvic armor. For another moment he paused, one servo cradling your hip and the other your chest.

Then he drew back, and thrust home.

The first thrust forced the air out of you in a desperate, sharp wheeze. This didn’t slow him, not in the slightest, digits sinking into the plush meat of your hip as he jackhammered into you. Each thrust had the entire table rattling, the sharp clang of metal against metal where his thighs hit the dented table’s edge. His quiet reverence had given way to an onslaught of erotic babble, visor locked on your face as it twisted and furrowed in pleasure.

“Takin’ it so fraggin well… You’re just made for takin’ my spike, aren’tcha?” He scooped his servo under your hip and lifted you further up, all but folding you in half as he loomed over you. His dermas brushed the curve of your jaw, just below your ear, and you could feel the heat of his ex-vent making your skin tingle. “You’ve jus’ been waitin’ for me to frag you stupid, plug up that achin’ valve til you can’t think of nothin’ else.”

“Mmmh…~ It’s so big.” You slurred, thighs slick with sweat and slipping on his plating as you struggled to lock your ankles in the small of his back. His frame shivered like an electric current ran through it, clutching you somehow even closer to his massive chassis.

“Nghh…~ Yeah? You love dis fat spike, don’tcha? Say it.”

“I love it!~”

“You want me to spill my load in this tight little valve, don’tcha?”

“Please!”

“Aghh, slag! Y-You’re gonna get it, sweetspark. You’re gonna take it all, j-just-mmfh!~” His vents were ragged and desperate, thrusts stuttering as he neared his release. You squealed as his thumb found your clit, rubbing the swollen bud in rough, tight circles. Euphoria was buzzing throughout your body, the ache of your lower back buried beneath the onslaught of pleasure and heat coiling in the pit of your stomach and blooming out through your limbs, legs shaking, hands trembling.

Sparks exploded behind your eyelids as your orgasm washed over you, hips jerking weakly against Rumble’s. There was no give to his spike at all, thick and steady and unyielding as your pussy squeezed and pulsed around it. You felt a flood of something molten spill into your core, filling you nearly to the point of aching as it spilled out around the tight ring of your hole around his base. Rumble’s frame stuttered, jittering, a harsh crackle of static and mechanical chatter pouring from his drooling intake where it was still buried in the crook of your neck. Finally, finally, his frame grew still. The only noise between the two of you were your shared, harsh breaths and the low churn of the occasional car driving past outside.

“Mmmmnnghh…” Rumble groaned, shifting his hips to pull his shrinking spike from your core as he rose unsteadily back to an upright position. You could feel transfluid dribbling from your hole as he tucked himself back away- thick, translucent globs spilling down the insides of your thighs and hitting the floor with a splatter. His engine gave a little, stuttering snarl despite himself as he dragged his digit tips through the shimmering line along one of your inner thighs. “I oughta take a picture of dis…”

“Don’t you dare.” You kicked weakly at his servo, legs now tingling with static as blood rushed back to them. He barked out a sharp laugh, effortlessly batting your foot aside. His servo rested atop your lower stomach and gave a teasing press, and you shivered as more globs of thick transfluid drooled from your cunt. “Jerk.”

“Eyy, you love it!”

“Unfortunately.” There was no real bite to your tone, you could tell by the way Rumble grinned. “Think you can give me a hand getting over to the bathroom before my knees give out?”

“Depends. Does dat count as you owin’ me a favor?”

#transformers #transformers x reader #x reader #rumble #rumble x reader #tf rumble #g1 rumble #valveplug #long post #my writing #nsft

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primus-why · 1 year

Text

I Dream of MegOp

Okay imagine a MegOp story where they're both still at war and on one planet they touch some sort of Macguffin relic that ends up connecting their dreams? (Valveplug)

Like imagine Optimus is in recharge, and starts dreaming of a steamy scenario that just so happens to involve Megatron. That's harmless enough; this war has gone on for a very long time, and he's come to know and even respect a lot of things about the Decepticon leader... so long as it's a dream and he's not actually putting himself or his Autobots at risk, why not let his processor wander and indulge in some fantasy?

Strangely, his processor decides to conjure images of Megatron for multiple nights in a row-- don't get him wrong, it's incredibly lascivious, but it's an admittedly odd coincidence. He decides to forego his nightly rust sticks and hopes a change of diet will help him dream of something else... literally anything else.

... Okay, now this is getting ridiculous. The dreams have been going on for a couple weeks now. Optimus isn't even sure he used to dream so frequently. He tries something different and instead engages the dream Megatron in a fight as they would normally in real life... only for the scenario to morph into something straight out of those erotica he'd secretly read as a guilty pleasure from time to time back in his days as Orion Pax. It was a rush, being so thoroughly dominated and operating on pure, primal instincts like that. He briefly wondered what else he could push his mind to conjure... before stamping down on those fantasies to get ready for his work.

-----

The real Megatron wasn't faring any better. He'd been having dreams about the Prime constantly for so many consecutive days, he seriously considered approaching Soundwave about it. Of course, even though Soundwave is his most trusted and loyal Decepticon, he couldn't bring himself to explain to his subordinate that he's been fantasizing all kinds of lustful scenarios centered around their enemy.

Ultimately he's glad he hadn't said anything, because the dreams have recently gotten very interesting...

It began with a dream about a fight, just like any other... only this time it ended with the Prime pinned beneath him, writhing in ecstasy instead of bleeding out in the dirt. Another saw Optimus giving him the remote to an interface device while the Prime attempted-- with valiant effort, Megatron mused-- to orate some nonsense speech in front of a crowd as the warlord controlled every pulse, vibration, and thrust. In one dream, Megatron sat himself on-- what he assumed to be-- Optimus' desk, demanding the Prime's attention, and Optimus responded by worshipping his whole entire frame at a slow, tender pace. It was blissful, almost like a high...

Now they were engaged in debate, probably somewhere in Vos. Seated around a large table with other representatives from their factions, Megatron enjoys countering the dreamt up banter with legitimate arguments-- he can literally do this in his recharge-- but secretly looks forward to when he and the Prime may slip away into the hall during a recess...

... Which might be coming soon, judging by Optimus' mounting frustration.

"Fine." Huffed the Autobot leader, "We'll table that discussion for now. Why don't we take a quick fuel break?"

Finally. As everyone else scattered, Megatron made his way over to the Prime.

"In an effort to continue this peaceful discourse, we ought to fuel together. Someplace a bit more private than the commissary, perhaps?" said Megatron with a grin.

But something was off. The Prime's shoulders slumped a bit, which was not the enthusiastic response he had become used to.

"What am I even doing?" Optimus let out a long sigh, "Guess that's what I get for trying something different..."

Megatron eyed the weary Prime for a moment. The gripe was obviously rhetorical, but he felt compelled to respond anyway.

"Trying something new is commendable. After all, the Decepticon movement began because we wanted to abolish the old world order. You argue that much has changed since," the warlord looked at the Prime, who met his gaze, "obviously this is true, but you'll find there are certain points we won't budge on, even today."

"I know." The Prime smiled lightly, looking away and out one of the many windows in the conference room. Megatron found himself staring as well-- when was the last time he saw a functioning Vos? He'd forgotten how beautiful the view from the city spires could be.

"Still, it seems that even in my dreams I can't sway your mind."

Megatron barked a laugh at that. "Silly Prime, that's because this is my dream."

"..."

"... Shall we--" but Megatron stopped, taken entirely off-guard by Optimus' perplexed expression.

"What did you say?"

"I was going to suggest we head back to--"

"-- No, not that, you said this was a dream. Your dream."

"I... did." Where was he going with this??

"But... this is my dream." The Prime said, letting out a nervous laugh.

"... No, it is not." Megatron said carefully, but instinctually he knew something was very wrong here.

"I think I would know my own dream!" Said Optimus, "I settled on this scenario and location before falling into recharge!"

"What?"

"These dreams have felt so real! I just wanted to see if I could walk through some hypothetical peace treaty discussions, you know? Make them a bit more useful aside from getting me all hot under the hood!"

"What??"

Basically they both wake up with a start, thinking 'wow that was really weird and specific' or whatever, but next time they dream they learn the truth and they wake up screaming lmao!

#megop #fuzz writes #spicy #valveplug

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