#swindle x reader

• “No.” Don’t even know what he wants, but no seems to be the safest answer when it comes to him and those optics flash, expression hurt when you look up at him. But you know him. Know it’s all bullshit. An act to try and coerce you so he gets his way. ‘Don’t be that way, I’m proposing a mutually beneficial situationship,’ he says and you snort, shifting against him where you’re straddling the mass displaced mech, fingertips sliding against the mesh of his neck. “Situationship?”

• “I’m not looking for anything long term. Just some market research. You know, figuring out how I can help my fellow, displaced and lonely Cybertronians navigate the nuances of interspecies relationships,” he tries and your eyebrows lift. ‘All out of the goodness of your, whatever it is you guys have,’ you mutter and he grins crookedly. “What other motive could I possibly have?” He purrs, servos flexing on your hips and you swat his hand, surprising him as his spike stirs behind his plating.

• “So you’re not just wanting to get laid?” You ask and he rears back, optics widening and hand pressed to his chassis like you’ve mortally wounded him. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you grab onto his chassis and haul yourself up, body sliding against his as he rumbles. And you arch into him, lips a breath from his. ‘Of course, not,’ he says, head leaning down to try and close the distance and kiss you. Leaning back to deny him, you smile as he frowns slightly.

• Shrugging as he reaches to take the collar, he holds it up, imagining it on you. “Hey, to each their own freaky, little need,” he says and you wrinkle your nose at him. “Want to try it on for me?” He coaxes and you snort. ‘No, but I could put it on you,’ you counter and he grins. ‘Not that I want to put a collar and leash on you,’ you add quickly and his smile widens at how flustered you are. “No, no. Let’s play this one out,” he says, holding the collar against the mesh of his neck.

• His expression is a dare. Taunting you to play along. Flustered as you meet his optics, your own eyes narrow. Because you know he’s just messing with you out of boredom. If you push back, he’ll likely cave immediately. Turning, you grab his chassis and swing up to straddle the mass displaced mech’s lap, reaching to buckle the collar. “Actually, pinks looks pretty good on you,” you admit as he stares, that smile still in place. “I’m not calling you baby girl, though. It’s weird.”

• “What do you want to call me?” He asks, resting his hands on your waist so you can’t just slide out of his lap and run. And you meet his optics even though he can tell you’re embarrassed. That you thought you could tease him without repercussions. “Hang on. We need a leash for authenticity.” Hooking an arm around you to press you against his chassis, he leans to find a leash and straightening, grabs your hand and presses the leash into it. Grinning when you slowly clip it into place and wrap the end around your hand, he waits.

Swindle cursed in his helm the whole rest of the way to his habsuite once they were back at their private base. Only stopping when his door closed behind him and he thunked his back against it. Your glare was still seared into Swindle’s memory banks. So sharp and totally threatening something, if he didn't back off then and there.

"I ain't buying-!" You hissed with a scowl before marching off. So pissed off you left your cleaning cloth and empty cube on the canteen table you were at. Swindle didn't think twice he just swiped your cleaning cloth and turned tailpipe to try and re think his strategy.

You still didn't want nothing to do with him. Getting more annoyed whenever he'd try to squeeze into your good graces with a steal he'd never offer to any other bot. Blast off looked at him like he was dumb when Swindle complained about it to him. Before Blast off asked if he's even tried to talk to you in any other way, instead of trying to sell ya something-? Well- sure!

... Not as often.

Now he's rethinking on that conversation now that you're mad at him again.

...

What if it was some other bot? Not you, but some other mech trying to sell him stuff the way he is you-?

Swindle would be mad, now that he's actually thinking about it plainly. These deals he's offering ya are way too good to be true. Not even in a "Oh, I need this off my servos sale. Take it sorta way.” Nah- the way all his deals for ya looked, would be what he would think was a fragging scam.

And he just fragging realized that's what it's exactly been lookin’ like from your perspective.

Swindle cursed, throwing his servos over his helm. "Fragging no good-!" How the pit did he miss that obvious over sight!? Stupid fragging personality programming-! No wonder you didn't want slag to do with him!

Swindle slid down the door and landed on his aft, scrubbing his servos down his faceplate. Before he remembered his find he'd snatched when you made such a quick exit.

He unsubspaced your cleaning cloth- turning it over and examining it. It looked ordinary. No clues or tells to how valuable the little thing actually was. Swindle knew damn well he wasn't about to be getting closer to ya anytime soon. He had slag and scrap he needed to clean up and repair before you even looked at him normally.

So, what if he just-?

Swindle looked right and then left even though he knew he was alone in his habsuite. Can never be too careful when you're a combiner. Always someone somewhere ya don't want ‘em or ever expect ‘em to be.

Scheduled mind meld wasn't for another cycle or two- meaning he wouldn't get slag for it till then. After all what's stopping him from taking full advantage of your cleaning cloth for those two days?

Nothing that's what.

With that he shoved your cloth up against his olfactory and inhaled. His hips immediately jumped and he grunted. Okay, that's good- that's real good! Primus, frag-! If he could actually hide this from the rest of his gestalt, he'd hide it somewhere and make 'em pay big to use it themselves. Fragging mind meld would just tell 'em exactly where it was. His next inhale had a throaty groan rumbling in the back of his throat. His array jumping to attention and pinging charge already just from a couple puffs.

Swindle needed to mend those bridges he burned with you-! Anything if ya let him this close to ya in the metal!

His panel pulled back and he grabbed the base of his spike as soon as it pressurized right. He could feel his whole array throb on his next savoring inhale. Frag, what would he do- what would he do with ya? He could do more then he could count. Memorize your plating, learn where you were the most fun to squeeze at, have you suck his spike like it was your function. The vice versa with him with your own spike.

His servo stroked up and down while more and more perverted ideas flashed through his helm. Use ya as his sweet stress relief. He could even make dirty videos and photos with you to sell to-

A quick flare of possessiveness flashed in his chassis and he thought over the idea a second time.

He didn't wanna share, (he wouldn't-! Only when it was his gestalt and that's not the same since they are him too!). But- frag! He's seen how some of the other cons look at you! Cons not his gestalt! Swindle knew to keep a look out for the little things- anything to help a potential sale. What do they look like they need-? Is their paint scuffed? Are their optics a little dull? Are they nervous? All things he can use to his advantage. Things just left out to be seen or taken advantage of- (like your cleaning cloth). And he started seeing how some of 'em looked at you. Really looked at ya.

It’s fragging obvious when he notices- and it just makes him slagged off whenever he thinks about it again. It makes him wanna put him between ya and them, but Onslaught said they couldn't lay it on too thick. Cause it could up and scare ya away. They were already at a disadvantage with you stationed at The Victory. Swindle never fragging thought he'd actually feel jealous of the mechs marooned on The Victory. Sharing space with every other Decepticon. Having their own base was a Primus sending. Sure, they came in The Victory pretty frequently. But you were there cause you lived there. With all the other fragging cons Swindle knew he couldn't trust.

Enjoying ya any time of the planets cycle.

But if they did make dirty videos or photos with you- they could show everyone how your his, and theirs! Swindle wouldn't mind if the others helped him get the point across you were theirs and nobody else's. Five pairs of servos focused on your frame. Swindle gasped against your cleaning cloth when he imagined that glare you usually gave him fragged outta ya; when they'd totally end up overstimulating you once they actually had ya. Taking those videos to show who you belonged to- making them pay to just see you being theirs. His valve squeezes down on nothing when he's thinking about them all taking turns with your spike and valve. Using your spike like a toy and stuffing your valve full of their transfluid.

He ends up bucking into his fist when he thinks about getting a close up of with your faceplate with the recorder. Just to grab your jaw and worry his thumb against your lower derma with his free servo. Sinking his spike into your already claimed valve with a slick sound from their already spent transfluid. And he thinks about a fragged out of it smile curling on your derma when he starts thrusting. He imagines you shooting your own transfluid onto your chassis as your spike throbs. All while he's fragging another load right into you. Swindle overloads with a groan shaking in his chassis and a gasping laugh that tapers off from his over wound charge. He arches against his door and thunks back onto it when it first hits him. Plating shaking and clenching while his hips jerk against his fist.

He's gasping in more vents against your cleaning cloth through his overload haze. The longer he does it the more his helm fogs brutally. Thinking about ya cutting strips of his paint right off with your digit pads.

Swindle didn't know how he was gonna be getting in your good graces yet. But he did know once he was in there, he wasn't gonna let you go. Till ya realized what he was offering was well worth your while...

Divider credit: @/cafekitsune, @/cursed-carmine,

“Vortex,” you moan, bouncing on the mech’s lap, riding like your life depends on it. You throw your head back, memorising the way his servos grip your waist.

He called on you, insisting that he was in need of your assistance. Supposedly, he'd worked himself up, and only your pussy could cure him. But in truth, he’s just selfish and likes to have more one-on-one time with you than any of his peers. He’s the horniest, no doubt about it, and definitely the most frequent to fuck you.

“Yeah, keep riding it just like that,” Vortex whirs, tilting his helm as he casts his gaze down to where the two of you are connected. Your sweet pussy hungrily devours his spike without hesitation, leaving a ring of milky essence around the base of it.

Your hips roll over him, just the way he likes it, making sure his sensitive head feels every inch of your walls. His servos run hot, so hot that you’ll likely have red marks when he lets go, but that only serves to remind you how much fun you had with him.

“Come out, Swindle,” Vortex snaps. “I know you’re hiding in the vents.”

A thump can be heard from the vents Vortex speaks of, but you don’t falter in your ride. Swindle has seen everything going on here before, so you’re not shy about it.

The grate pops open, clattering against the floor. It’s not in your line of sight, but Vortex can see it. His fellow ‘Con comes crawling out of the vents, with a recording device in hand.

“Ah, you fucking freak,” the darker mech comments. His optics would roll, if they could. “Tryna make a buck from selling our homemade porn videos, huh, Swindle?”

“Maybe it’s for a personal collection,” the other mech quips back defensively.

“Oh, so cuckolding is what gets you going?” Vortex jabs.

You scoff, tutting once before leaning forward, planting your hands on Vortex’s chassis to draw the attention back to the actual event going on right now.

“Could the two of you stop bickering whilst I’m fucking you? It kinda kills the mood,” You ask, a slice of annoyance in your tone. Vortex grunts, gripping you a little tighter by the waist before devoting his attention back to you fully.

“Sorry, Doll, you know how annoying he can be,” Vortex says.

“Sometimes the only way the two of you get on is when I’m involved,” you answer.

“Is that an invitation?” Swindle asks slyly, the smirk on his face growing just as much as his excitement.

"Fuck off, you opportunistic clown," Vortex hisses, already sidetracked once again by his teammate. So much for desperately needing a session with you. With the way the two of them argue, they might as well fuck each other to let off some of this unresolved animosity.

"Let him join," you hush suggestively, placing one hand gently on the side of Vortex's helm. "You know you always have more fun when there's more of us."

"More like you have more fun," Vortex responds, "You love being full of all of us."

"Is that such a bad thing?" You coo with a small pout, trailing your fingertips over the edges of his helm.

"This is my time with you," he huffs, groaning shortly after at the way your pussy clenches around him. You purposefully do it again, tightening the muscles. He moans, tipping his helm back against the pillow.

"Come join, Swindle," you speak over your shoulder, looking at the mech in question out of the corner of your eye. Vortex has had more than enough alone time with you.

"Don't have to tell me twice," he beams, quickly skitting over to the bed. He plops his recording device down at the foot of the bed before mounting it on his knees. He tucks his servo into his subspace in his chassis, grabbing the bottle of lube he takes everywhere. You never know when the two of you might get down and nasty, after all.

"Mind if I fuck your ass, pet?" Swindle asks, lathering lube over his spike. He watches between your legs, noticing how lonely you look with just the one spike inside of you.

"Go for it," you sigh, trying to keep your hips moving on Vortex.

"That's what I like to hear," the yellow mech says, lining himself up. It's hard to do so properly with your bouncing, and with the energy Vortex is emitting, Swindle will get his helm chopped off if he requests you stop for a second.

He sits snug against your tight hole, placing one servo on your shoulder for leverage as he pushes inside. With your movements, it makes entry a lot easier. Your hips stagger as you throw your head back, a hot moan tumbling from you as the stretch rings through your body. No matter how many times you let them share you, it never gets old, and the feeling never subsides.

Swindle slides his servo from your shoulder to between your shoulder blades, pushing you forward so that he has a clearer angle into your other hole. He thrusts into you, his hips pistoning almost straight away. He gets so worked up, and often fucks you so hard and fast that he finishes within mere moments. He's too excitable for his own good.

"Yeah, fuck, that's it!" Swindle curses as your hole clenches around him, threatening to strangle his spike. Vortex hums deeply, feeling the indent of Swindle's spike press up against his own.

Sandwiched between them, you're left a moaning, sweating mess. Your knees slide further apart on the bed, making the bouncing action a little more labourous. With the way Swindle is hammering his hips, you hardly need to bounce. He moves you up and down Vortex's spike all on his own. You bunch your brows in a frown, feeling your body already start to fail. It's hard being the personal sex toy of five Decepticons, it takes a toll on your body from time to time.

"Already tired, Doll?" Vortex snickers. "Need me to take over?"

He can be such a condescending prick at times. Too bad he's right. You'd love to make him eat his words one day.

Your habsuite door opens, but none of you even register it. The moment consumes you all, cutting off everything that exists outside of it.

"Woah, where was my invite?" Brawl interrupts, looking somewhat aghast at the fact he's been left out of this activity, even with the mask covering a good portion of his face.

"You might as well join," Vortex says, still sounding a little unimpressed, "The more the merrier, I guess."

"They still have another hole to play with," Swindle coos with a grin, reaching around to grab your jaw. "Isn't that right?"

Brawl meanders up alongside the bed, deploying his spike at the same time. It hangs heavy and is the largest of the group. He jerks the length loosely as he admires the show currently unfolding in front of him.

The larger mech plants one knee on the mattress to get a little closer to you, close enough that your hand and mouth are in reaching distance. You turn your head, watching as he toys with his leaking spike. Flitting your eyes up to his visor, you give him that sultry look beneath your lashes.

"Fancy helping me out here?" Brawl asks, his ruby red visor fixed on you.

You grab his spike, tugging it a little and prompting him to lean in a fraction closer. You shift forward, closing the distance. Taking him into your mouth, you welcome him with warmth and fervour.

He vents hotly as he feeds you his spike, pushing down until he feels the muscles of your throat surround him. Vortex rumbles, still less than pleased that what was a session for the two of you turned into a session for all of them.

"Might as well call the others in at this rate," the salty mech murmurs.

"Good idea, Vortex," Swindle says cheekily, placing a small kiss on your shoulder. He pings the others over the comms line, sending a short but sweet message across that implores them to join. Knowing those two love birds, they're probably canoodling already.

"Stop being such a grump," Brawl says to Vortex. "Learn to appreciate what's in front of you."

"What I see in front of me is my partner sucking your spike," Vortex snarls. He changes tactics, bucking his hips to start meeting you half way. You moan around Brawl's thick girth, sending pleasant vibrations down the shaft.

"Our partner," Swindle corrects incisively.

"Mine," Vortex sneers, shooting daggers at Swindle over your shoulder.

The door to your habsuite hisses open a second time, this time revealing your guests: Onslaught and Blast Off.

Blast Off immediately whistles as he witnesses the pure debauchery taking place on your bed. The mess between your legs is obscene, juices and fluids already pooling in a puddle on the sheets below. Drool cradles over your bottom lip as you suck the life from Brawl like some lecherous succubus.

"Seems we're late to the party," Onslaught chortles, walking over to join you. Brawl pulls you off his spike for a moment, allowing you to breathe unobstructed. You look over to the newcomers with glassy eyes, short pants leaving you.

You whine as Swindle humps against you hard, slapping his solid hips on your ass to leave you sore. Vortex nearly growls, refusing to be shown up by someone like Swindle. He slips one servo between your bodies, finding your clit with ease. You moan out as he draws taut circles over it.

"Considering all your holes have already been claimed, I suppose we can have your hands," Onslaught comments as he strides up on the other side of you, opposite Brawl, releasing his spike from his array. He looks down at you with a tender look, but when it comes to the berth, Onslaught is anything but tender.

You reach out with one hand, grabbing his length to start pumping it. Brawl grips your head, turning it so that you're facing him again. He doesn't wait for you, instead leading his spike back into your mouth. You carry on with the same treatment you gave him earlier, swaying your tongue on the underside of his panels.

Blast Off settles next to Brawl, darting his servo out to grab your hand. Your eyes slide to look at him, watching as he takes your hand to his weeping spike. You grab it and start tossing him in time with Onslaught.

This isn't your first orgy with the Combaticons, but it never fails to surprise you every time. Every drop of your attention and energy is poured into them, multitasking the best you can to keep them all satisfied. Swindle and Vortex are in better positions to take exactly what they want from you, which makes that element slightly easier.

"Fucking look at you," Vortex chuckles darkly, "You're such a little spikesleeve, you know that? Look at how naturally you service all of us."

"They were made for us, huh?" Swindle adds, grinning audial to audial.

"Definitely didn't expect this when we rescued you from that back alley gang," Onslaught says. "But it certainly is a good way to thank us."

Brawl holds onto your shoulder, clasping tight as he groans. You try to look up at him to make sure everything is okay, but before you can, your mouth is swarmed with a torrent of transfluid. Your instinct is to gasp, but all you can do is swallow. He fills your mouth, swelling your cheeks as your gulps prove insufficient to take it all down.

"Sorry for the lack of warning, little one," he apologises whilst you still suckle on his tip, trying to get every last drop.

"Keep sucking," Onslaught orders as he places a servo on the back of your head, keeping your mouth on Brawl's spike. You didn't need to be ordered, but you don't mind a little bit of rough treatment either.

Brawl shudders a shaky moan, feeling slightly overstimulated by the continued servicing. You gag on his spike as he inches further and further down your throat. Your hands weakly, but determinedly, keep pumping both Onslaught and Blast Off, smearing their transfluid over your palms and fingers. Swindle and Vortex never relent, their hips pumping in coordination. They make a good team, even if they do bicker.

Vortex grunts, slamming his hips up into you with more force as the knot of his pleasure comes loose. He spurts a heavy load into you, at long last earning his release. You expected him to finish first, considering the two of you were going at it for a fair while before anyone else joined, but Brawl beat him to it.

Feeling Vortex's spike swell and throb through the layer that separates Swindle from it causes a chain reaction, and the arms dealer quickly finds his release next. He moans, much less shy to in comparison to the others, as he dumps all he has into your ass. The heat from two overloads splashes shivers up your spine, your toes curling as you realise you aren't far off, either.

The pressure from all angles is slowly becoming too much to handle. All three of your holes are stuffed, your hands are occupied, and your clit being rubbed is the cherry on top.

With no way to alert them of your oncoming orgasm, you simply let it be. A powerful rush floods through you, like a river crashing against the bank. Your eyes stream with tears as your lower half grips both Vortex and Swindle tighter. A desperate moan leaves you, muffled by Brawl's spike.

"Well done, everybody," Onslaught grins as he watches your body quake with the shocks of orgasm, "Excellent teamwork."

"It was me who got them there," Vortex says, not taking his optics off you. Even though it isn't his spike in your mouth, he's still unbelievably turned on by the sight.

And with the sight below, Onslaught and Blast Off, neither of them take too much longer to drain their tanks and shower you in their climaxes.