#siberat drabbles

[siberat]

swindle wg thing? 🥺 I need to see that conman get BIG

Swindle’s deal goes sour

cw: weight gain, some force feeding, mild mention of emeto (no vomiting)

His spark suddenly dropped in his chasis. He couldn’t believe it! How did he manage to get into this situation? If there was a mech pulling shady deals, it was him!

Swi/ndle checked his account for the third time, each time the balance read zero. Prim/us knows where the credits went- someone must have hacked his account.

“Look…. Ahhhh….” The combat/icon shifted his weight from one pede to the other, scratching the back of his helm as he chuckled. “Turn’s out I am a little short… how’s my credit?”

“How short?” His dealer grumbled, placing his servo’s on his hips.

“Ahhh, I can get you the money in a few days…. A week max.” The smaller ‘Co/n put on his best smile.

“Do you value my time so little?” Lock/down narrowed his optics, but a grin soon appeared. “I think we can work something out.”

“That would be amazing!” Swi/ndle clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Whatcya got in mind?”

… …

‘Just keep thinking of your bounty!’ Swi/ndle repeated over and over to himself as plate after plate of foods were placed in front of him. While the instructions were clear- each plate consumed earned himself one tote- the combat/icon never thought he would have to eat to earn his bounty.

 But this was no problem, right? In fact, this exchange seemed like such a steal. Just think of the profit margin! He’d be rolling in credits in no time.

However, little did he know just how loaded these plates were. Sure, some consisted of little cakes, but there was like ten of them piled on ne dish. Others had hearty sandwiches loaded with a ton of cybermeat, cheese, lettuce, onions, tomatoes and slathered in mayo. No matter the type of food, it was available in overabundance.

The variety of the spread made the feast look as if set out for a party, but the party was just him. Swi/ndle’s optics quivered just looking at all the dishes…. And his belly gave a preemptive ache just thinking of consuming them all.

He wanted all the totes, afterall.

“Well?” Lock/down sneered, holding his palms out. “Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is. Eat up.”

“Ah…. what is that?” Swi/ndle cocked his head to the side as he watched the other set a device on the table and aimed it right toward him.

“You don’t think I’m going to take a financial hit over this soured deal, do you?” The green and black mech looked through the display, adjusting for the best view. “I plan to earn the credits back by hosting a stream.”

“Hey…. You gonna record me choking this slop down?”

Lock/down simply nodded. “Turns out there are quite a few mechs out there that would love to see you squirming under the spotlight. And who am I to deny them?”

Prim/us, he did not wish anyone else to witness this! “That’s not fair!” Just how many mechs has he upset? Doing the math quickly in his helm, the number equated to a lot.

“And neither is coming to our little meeting empty handed. Credits make the world go round. You of all mechs should know that.” The red button on top of the camera was pressed. “We are live. Put on a good show and make me some money.”

Swi/ndle hefted out a sigh. What choice did he have? Slag, remember the profits- he would definitely make a lot with no overhead. All he had to do was scarf down the meals in front of him.

Easy Peasy!

The first dish selected was a heaping bowl of mac and cheese. Picking up a spoonful, the mech shoveled it into his mouth and was immediately rewarded with such rich flavor! The texture was smooth and the sharp flavor of cheese just burst over his taste receptors. This begged for another heaping mouthful for sure. However, all good things must end, and the spoon scrapped against and empty bowl all too soon.

“Why don’t you give this a try next?”

A plate with a large lithium potato smothered with greasy bacon, sour cream and green seasonings pushed in front of him. “Sure, no problem.” Swi/ndle grinned, just thinking of the deal he was gonna walk away with. So what he had to engorge on food in front of the audience: this was easy earnings!

However, one dish after another slid his way. And dish after dish was consumed, but the pace slowed. While the energon foods were delightful, each swallow filled his tummy more and more. Soon, he could feel his abdominal plating grow uncomfortably tight. Dull aches surfaced, pinging his processor that no more food was needed.

“Finished already?” Lock/down tutted, shaking his helm in disappointment. “I didn’t think you would quit so easily.”

“I’m not finished yet!” Swi/ndle grumbled, rubbing a servo over his swelled belly. “I got plenty of room left!”

Was there more room? There had to be: he only earned a measly eight totes. He needed much more than that!

“I would hate to disappoint your adoring fans…” As if on que, an assortment of pings erupted from the broadcasting device.

Swi/ndle furrowed his optics as another plate was dug into. Fried cyberchicken, and you can bet that meat was sucked from the framework! As if putting on a show, Swi/ndle sucked his greasy fingers clean while looking into the camera, then patted at his bloated stomach. “Is that all you got?”

More plates were pushed his way, and the struggle became real. After each bite, his belly would let out a troubled gurgle. After each swallow, he’d be gasping for breath. After each plate finished, sweat would be dripping from his brow. His abdomen was obnoxiously distorted and quivered in pain! And only three more plates had been finished.

“I think after all that food, you need to wet your whistle.” Lock/down stifled a grin.

 Swi/ndle knew this wasn’t good, but he was thirsty. A large pitcher of light green liquid was placed in front of him.

“Give that a taste, hm?”

“Got a glass?” Swi/ndle asked, giving the flab that squished out his seams a pinch.

“Drink it from the canister, piggy.”

The solo combat/icon reluctantly obeyed and brought the large pitcher to his lips. It was cold and very sweet tasting! However, he noted how thick the liquid was as it pured into his mouth. “What the slag is this?” Swi/ndle coughed, returning the picture to the table.

Lock/down’s hands held the canister in it’s spot. “Does it matter? Chug it.”

Swi/ndle’s optics grew. The recording device sang out pings and whistles. He knew that sound to be credits being sent in via the livestream. And those noises only multiplied as the canister was raised to the chubby mech’s lips.

And the con artist had no choice but to drink. And with each gulp, he swore his belly bulged out even more! His plating grew tight, and not even halfway through the drink, a loud pang rang through the air.

Dear Prim/us, was that his abdominal plating shooting across the room? The pressure on his abdomen decreased and something heavy but soft bounced on his lap. Exploring servo’s rubbed the mass, confirming yes, this was his protomesh belly resting upon his thighs, fully exposed for the world to see.

How embarrassing! And painful! The mass ached as if the beachball of the belly was about to pop. But the cream kept puring down his maws, and the pained mech kept swallowing. More spasms trembled though his belly.

How much more could his poor tanks endure?

When the canister finally lowered from his lips, Swi/ndle gasped. What a relief to be able to breath in air to cool off his warming frame! But this was short lived. His tummy cramped and spasmed, it’s surface itching from the freshly acquired stretchmarks.

Isn’t that just peachy?

Swi/ndle whined as his belly churned, its surface shaking like an earthquake. A sharp and clenching ached formed from deep within. This uncomfortable feeling caused the combinor’s optics to shoot wide open.

Something was coming up. He could feel the pressure rising, creating a stabbing sensation along his internal digestion tract. All the while, the chimes rang, reminding the pained mech he was in front of an audience. Prim/us, if he purged, he would be mortified!

Not to mention he would most likely have to return the totes if he lost the meals.

Swi/ndle swallowed hard a few times, attempting to coax his belly’s contents to stay put, but this was a losing battle. Whatever this feeling was, it was rising rapidly. He barely had time to moan before his throat tubing widened, releasing an obnoxiously wet belch in the air.

“Bllllllaaaaaaaaaarrrrruuuuuughgggghhhhhhhhh….” It was loud. It was painful. It echoed through the room.

And the viewers went wild, but all Swi/ndle could do was sit there, gasping for breath as he rubbed his obnoxiously stuffed belly.

“Have you had enough?” Lock/down chuckled. “You only earned twelve totes.”

“That’s it?” Swi/ndle griped, feeling incredibly overstuffed and sick. The burps kept coming, and his belly kept growling. “You sure you counted correctly?”

That wasn’t nearly as much as he wanted to take home!

But one troubled question festered in his processor: which dish would be easy to consume next?

#chubformers #chubfic #siberat drabbles

[withoutalice]

writing prompt- you cool with Tex x aid? Theme: playful cantor over a shared meal? If not, it’s cool. Alt pairing if preferred- same theme, ratchet and first aid?

Ough i'm sorry idk Tex's characterization very well so I did Ratchet x First Aid ;-;

Words: ~600

Warnings: Not much! Some descriptions of eating and full bellies at most. Just some medics having a good large comforting meal. Overall funny and introspective...

[ It’d been a long shift in the medical ward, leaving the CMO and CMO-in-training ravenous. Even though they both enjoyed cooking over eating out personally, the medics were too exhausted to make dinner themselves... ]

“What are you thinking to eat tonight?” Rat/chet asked. Fir/st Ai/d shrugged and flopped onto the couch.

“Feeling like…comfort food…maybe savory?”

“Hmm, how about pasta?” Rat/chet pointed out. Fir/st Ai/d mumbled an affirmative into cushions. After placing the order, Rat/chet got to cleaning off their dining table; he didn't bother to clean off all the dishes though.

"Well, Ai/d, don't fall asleep before you eat! I can't have you getting run down now..."

Fir/st Ai/d pushed himself into a sitting position and accepted the bubbly energon Rat/chet offered. Being a medic wasn't for anyone, and Fir/st Ai/d realized how resilient one must be to be the C/MO. Rat/chet didn't show much of an air of exhaustion, even though Ai/d knew he'd been working more this week than him by a bit.

They rested in silence, until their takeaways arrived! Fir/st Ai/d quickly unpacked the bags, Rat/chet watching him amusedly...

"The food is delicious, isn't it?"

Fir/st Ai/d looked up in surprise. He had been so focused! "Yeah, it feels like we haven't had a proper meal in ages..."

The C/MO shrugged. "It's nice to not be cooking for once, though."

"Mhm...though, it is always good when you do cook!"

"That's very kind of you to say..." Rat/chet hummed as he pulled his order in front of him. It smelled divine.

The pasta is deliciously al dente when they eat it, topped with a variety of sauces and toppings. Rat/chet got a heaping helping of pesto pasta. He sprinkles parmesan cheese eagerly on it, while Fir/st Ai/d breaks open his takeaway container of creamy alfredo with veggies mixed in.

As they eat, the two medics are relaxed and enjoying their meal, keeping up conversation as they do so.

Rat/chet takes a large bite, holding his servo in front of his mouth while he asks: "And how are your patients doing tonight?"

Fir/st Ai/d shrugs again. "Stubborn about taking their meds, but otherwise, they seem to be doing well."

"That's good to hear..."

They scarf down more pasta in content silence for a moment; before Ai/d speaks up again.

"I heard from some of the other medics that you've been more patients than usual lately. How are you holding up?"

Rat/chet twirls his fork around. "Not too bad, honestly. It's been a bit hectic, as our team has grown, but I'm holding up fine...."

Ai/d finishes his dish, wiping his face into the crook of his arm. "But don't you think you should take it a bit easier?"

Rat/chet tilts his helm back and scoops the rest of his meal into his mouth, setting the container aside. "Ah, probably. But someone has to do it, right?"

"Yeah, I get that. But I just want to make sure you're taking care of yourself too, you know?" Fir/st Ai/d blurts out the last part awkwardly, hoping the C/MO doesn't laugh at him.

Rat/chet just smiles warmly and gets up to clean up, bloated tummy brushing Ai/d's side when he leans over to collect the dishes. Ai/d hums approvingly.

"I can't believe i finally feel full...when's the last time we ate something other than rations in between shifts?"

He hears Rat/chet laugh from the connected kitchen.

"Oh, who knows, but it sure was delicious. Might have been a bit too much for me even-"

Fir/st Ai/d ends up moving back to the couch, holding his own full belly. He sighs happily.

"No wonder they call it comfort food..."

#im sorry but i think instead of “cantor” you meant banter? that's what my brain autocorrected to so if i'm misunderstanding lemme know #english is not my first language ;-; #rat/chet #fir/st ai/d #chubformers #alice writes #drabble #siberat #omg i'm sorry this took forever ;-; #my english wasn't englishing for a bit there-

[mr-miss-anonymous]

A little (lol) Texaid drabble written for a good friend in celebration of her and her partner’s wedding anniversary. Hope you enjoy, @siberat!

Given both their respective places in the world, it seemed unnatural to have spent almost an entire day doing what most would consider normal activities. Usually, when First Aid got the chance to sneak off and spend a little one-on-one with Vortex, their time was occupied with quick, feverish touches behind thin, closed doors and wary glances cast around the room once they’d both settled in for some sleepy snuggles. Today, however, things were different—much different.

The start of the weekend hadn’t exactly been abnormal, at least. A private ping from the Combaticon coincided almost immediately with the end of his shift, and First Aid was far from surprised to find that Vortex had requested he come over for the night… and the morning. What had surprised him was that when they woke up the next day, Vortex seemed far more affectionate and doting than he usually did, but without an apparent reason.

Sure, First Aid thought, Vortex tended to go through phases of being affectionate and obsessive then distant and cold, but something seemed different this time around. He tried his very best to determine just what the reason could be, but Vortex’s vague behavior didn’t help much. His uncharacteristic suggestions of pleasant, domestic plans to spend the day and strangely tender shows of affection were also rather confusing, but as the hours passed, First Aid eventually just decided to roll with it. He was enjoying himself, after all.

The day had been a pleasant one, though First Aid was a little surprised at the things Vortex had suggested they do together. A walk through one of Cybertron’s prettier cities had come to a rather sudden halt after Vortex announced they had an appointment booked for a full-body wax job and tune-up. It was a little strange, First Aid had thought at the time, but stepping through the shop’s doors and smelling the soothing scents of high-quality waxes and other earth-inspired fragrances had instantly put his wandering mind to rest. One hour-long session later, and First Aid was feeling more refreshed than he had felt in years.

Following the appointment had been a trip to one of First Aid’s favorite restaurants, which was a bit of a surprise to him. As far as he knew, Vortex never cared much for the dishes inspired by earth culture and human fuel, but First Aid had been overjoyed to get the chance to sit down and indulge in some of his favorite foods and sweets, all while Vortex sat across the table from him, sipping at a glass of engex and smiling every time First Aid gushed over the addictive flavors of his meal’s next course.

Now, having finished their walk through the town, a visit to the wax shop, and a rather delicious dinner, they were sitting outside, a comfortable silence filling the air between them. Vortex’s seemingly well-organized and long-planned adventures for the day had landed them out on a park bench in the center of one of Cybertron’s prettier cities, their comfortable seat overlooking a span of galaxies beyond the atmosphere.

First Aid, for his part, was a little unsure about being ntimate in such a public setting, but Vortex hadn’t hesitated to stretch an arm over the back of the bench in a successful maneuver to pull First Aid’s frame flush against his own. After a moment of stiff silence and a small tilt of his helm to catch a glimpse of the arm that had so comfortably rested over his shoulders, First Aid gave in, allowing his frame to melt into Vortex’s side. The act earned a satisfied sound from Vortex, and First Aid couldn’t suppress the smile that split his face as Vortex leaned in and placed a quick kiss to the top of his helm.

The overly soft affection was strange and out of character for him, most certainly, but First Aid found himself enjoying it far too much to question Vortex’s motives.

“Been a good day, yeah?” Vortex eventually said, breaking the silence First Aid had just grown accustomed to.

“Yeah,” he quickly agreed. “Yeah, it has been... but what’s with all the fancy outings? I mean, usually we just crash at your place and call it good. Did you plan on doing such extravagant stuff, or—“

“Oh my god,” Vortex said, cutting him off with a dramatic sigh. “You really don’t remember?”

The once comfortable mood suddenly felt rather sour, and though he couldn’t hear any actual resentment in Vortex’s tone, First Aid still pulled away. A glimpse of Vortex’s expression told him the Combaticon was less upset and more amused, however, despite what his tone might have suggested. Of course, this only confused him further, and if Vortex wasn’t going to give him the context he was looking for, First Aid supposed he’d just have to figure it out for himself.

“Remember what?” He asked, sounding nearly as exasperated as Vortex pretended to feel. When the Decepticon refused to stop pouting over the loss of physical contact, First Aid huffed and settled back against his side. “Is it supposed to be a holiday or something? Because… I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I’d remember if something important was happening today.”

Vortex shifted against his side, struggling to find another position nearly as comfortable as the one he’d first settled into. The silence seemed to be his way of avoiding the question entirely, so First Aid pressed a little more.

“Hey,” he said, pulling back once more. “I’m serious, ‘Tex. What is it? What did I forgot?”

Sheepish wasn’t a word First Aid would have ever imagined using to describe Vortex, but the way he sat there, plating flared and faceplates flushed as he scratched at his neck made him rethink the decision. First Aid was almost afraid he’d have to keep pushing for an explanation when Vortex finally spoke up.

“It’s really not a big deal,” he said, his frame lifting in a full-bodied shrug that somehow encompassed all of his obvious discomfort at once. “I just… I dunno, thought it might be fun to try out one of those stupid human things you seem to like so much.”

“And that would be…?” First Aid said, leaning in.

“You know,” Vortex shrugged again. When First Aid didn’t respond, apparently not knowing, he huffed and said, “relationships and stuff. Like, when two humans are together for a while or whatever, they sort of… I dunno, celebrate it or something.”

It took a moment for First Aid’s mind to process the implications, but when it finally struck him, he was almost surprised to realize how much time had passed since he and Vortex had started… well, fraternizing. He couldn’t quite remember the exact date, but he was fairly certain Vortex’s calculations were right, and that they had unofficially been “together” for close to a year at that point.

It was a complicated thing to think about, but the look of uncertainty that had molded itself to Vortex’s expression distracted First Aid from the process. He gave his unofficial (or official, now that… now that they were celebrating) partner a warm smile and cooed, reaching up to cup Vortex’s face in his servos.

“You know,” he teased, leaning in close until their forehelms touched, “for a Decepticon, you tend to be awfully romantic.”

“Hope that ain’t a problem,” Vortex whispered back, his voice soft against First Aid’s cheek.

“Not at all,” First Aid whispered right back. “Not in the slightest.”

Apparently that was all the assurance Vortex needed, as the next thing First Aid knew, he was being touched right back. Vortex was on him in and instant, frame blocking the world from his sight as he crawled up into First Aid’s lap and slunk a servo around to hold his helm in place. It was unnerving, a little threatening, almost scary—however, it was also romantic, in Vortex’s sweet, sinister way.

When Vortex’s fingers slipped under his chin and lifted his helm, First Aid obliged, meeting him halfway for a quick, gentle kiss.

“Happy unofficial anniversary?” First Aid asked with a giggle, reaching up to intertwine his fingers with Vortex’s.

“Yeah,” Vortex said, already eyeing First Aid up again as he readied himself for another kiss. He leaned back in, slower this time, and between the gentle kisses they shared and the soft, assuring squeezes of each other’s servos, he added, “something like that.”

#texaid #first aid #vortex #this was supposed to be like… 500 words max lol #oops

[siberat]

Food Makes things feel better

so, good news and bad news. This was originally for a Drabble request- however, jerk me totally missed the mark by my classic quickly reading the request, then spending days writing only to find out it’s not what was asked at all. So, my apologies to the anon requester- you will have to wait a bit longer. Also, I was gonna split this in 2, but I just wanna post it.

good news is here is a rodi/mus chub story. I am gonna do another one for the anon prompt. Cw: chub, weight gain, binge eating, emotional eating.

Life wasn’t fair, was it?

Yes, he knew things would not be handed to him on a silver platter, but he didn’t think the accomplishments he earned would be snatched away from him either. Or forced to share.

Sighing, Rod/imus plopped himself back in his captain’s chair—while he still had it, that is. Apparently, for reasons unknown, he had to share his status as captain with someone else—someone so unworthy of the position, none-the-less!

Mega/tron.

The “ex” leader of the Decep/ticons. All because stupid Opti/mus Pri/me said so.

This was his voyage! This was his mission! And things have been going just fine, so why try to fix something that isn’t broken?

Before he knew it, the urge to do something other than stew in anger arose. Rodi/mus could only take so much teeth-clenching before his helm hurt worse than it already did. He reached to the center of the table and pulled a large dish of mini cakes in front of him. Yes, this was to be for the guests at his meeting, but surely, they wouldn’t notice one missing—there was plenty after all.

Fingers daintily selected a light pink cake with blue frosting and brought it to his lips. The sweetness invaded his mouth much quicker than the actual treat! The first bite was everything he could imagine: moist, decadent, and rich flavor awoken his taste receptors from slumber.

Each bite led like another, and the first cake was gobbled up. And the sheer taste of the food made him feel better. While he was consuming it, all thoughts of his predicament vanished. Rodi/mus didn’t think of the stern looks received from Mega/tron when ideas were disapproved of. Seeing Ult/ra Magn/us discuss plans with the ‘other’ captain vanished from his processor. Feeling like scrap for being deprived of his hard-earned title lifted from his chassis.

At least until the last swallow of the cake, that is.

As the red and yellow mech stared at the plate full of little colorful cakes of various shapes, licking icing off his fingertips, he could feel the brain worms kicking back in.

Was he not good enough? Just what did he do so wrong? He was a fun mech and liked trying fun things! Did his crew mates simply not like him? Images replayed in his processor of ‘bots reactions to him, seeing if there were any tell-tale signs of dislike. Rodi/mus did not see any hints of hate- but perhaps they really did?

“Ehhhhhhhhh,” Rodi/mus grumbled and rolled his optics, truly hating feeling like this. He was a good mech! He deserved to lead this exhibition! Just why did it have to be stolen from him?

Yeah, it was time for another cake. There were still plenty of them left on the plate. The scrumptious little morsels make him feel better, even if just temporarily. When one was finished, and those tormenting thoughts returned, Rodi/mus helped himself to another.

Of course, the emptied plate was hidden before the conference began- his attendees wouldn’t miss what they didn’t know, right? Hopefully, the ‘co-captain’ could hide his noisy belly ache!

… … …

Any hope of his situation improving simply flew out the window. It turns out his crew was much more accepting of Mega/tron than he anticipated. Yes, tabs were kept on him, but as the days turned to weeks, high command appeared to grow more comfortable with his presence on board the Lo/st Li/ght.

And more willing to listen to his ideas and choose the ex-warlord's instructions over his!

Rodi/mus even tried harder to win back popularity votes by hosting parties at Swer/ves. He graced others' presence by making rounds and chatting it up amongst the partygoers. He even let them in on his future festivities, listening to their ideas, even if they were stupid.

Like perhaps an ice cream social would be nice.

Actually, Rodi/mus didn’t even ask for that—he still had some control over what took place on board his ship! The event was scheduled—and it was scheduled first—and now, he sat in an empty room. Well, it was not completely empty: there were tubs upon tubs of energon ice cream.

Yet only a handful of mechs showed up. And those fraggers didn’t even stay for long! Apparently, after his planned and announced event, Rew/ind and Chrome/dome continued their dumb movie marathon. Guess where every mech went?

So, the red and yellow mech sat alone, staring out the large window. Space was so vast and empty…just like his spark. Alright, that is a bit sappy. But it hurt to have no one really show up. It hurt to feel not important. It hurt to feel ignored.

But seeing all the ice cream and toppings sitting around unused was disheartening. And there was a lot! All the good flavors were obtained: chocolate, vanilla, mint chocolate chip, rocky road, peanut butter cup…. The list went on. And toppings? There was chocolate sauce, sprinkles, candies, brownie bits, whipped cream, and then some. With a spread like this, who wouldn’t want to show up?

Apparently, ninety-nine percent of the ship.

‘No point in letting this go to waste,’ Rodi/mus shrugged, dragging himself to his pedes and scooped himself a heaping bowl of several flavors of ice cream, topped with every topping imaginable. He sat back down with his feast and scoop after scoop fed himself the cold treat.

Oh, how he loved ice cream! The soft dessert's chill and the crunch of the toppings always hit the spot! A lot of foods hit the spot recently. Ever since Mega/tron joined this fleet, energon has provided him with so much comfort, as if it had always been there for him. Always calling his name out from the panty just begging to be devoured! And how could the speedster resist?

Eating cheered him up, relieving him from replaying the bad thoughts in his processor all the time. The pleasurable feeling of consuming something so tasty made his spark swirl with joy instead of rage. And this ice cream was no different—each bite, a new flavor, a new color twirled in his vision, and a smile appeared on his lips.

As soon as the dish was emptied, the co-captain immediately helped himself to seconds. He kept going even when his whole frame seemed cold from eating so much frozen dessert. Even when his tummy, which had grown more prominent over the past few weeks, became taunt and lay heavier on his lap, he kept going.

When his overflowing bowl was polished off this time, Rodi/mus simply snagged two cartons of ice cream. There was no point having to keep getting back up! However, upon shoveling the first spoonful in, he noticed he wasn’t alone and jumped.

“Pri/mus, Dri/ft!” Rodi/mus gasped.

“Don’t use His name in vain,” Dri/ft spoke calmly.

“My bad.” The red and yellow mech stuffed a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, then motioned to the food table for the other to help himself.

“I’m not here for that,” Dri/ft answered.

“Ah, let me guess.” Rodi/mus spat. “Just stopping in before movie fest?”

 “I’m here to talk with you.” He walked to the table and sat next to the other. “So, how have you been?”

“Fine,” Rodi/mus shrugged, continuing to work on his tub of ice cream. “Shame mech’s don’t know what they are missin’.” His belly clenched, whining out a minor grumble.

“I somehow don’t think everything is fine, Rodimus.” The TIC gently placed a servo on the other’s shoulder. “You haven’t quite been yourself recently.”

“Nonsense,” Rodi/mus bulked, his mouth full. Who else would I be?” Slag, the last thing he wanted was some kind of spiritual talk from Dri/ft. And why the hell did he have to be so nosey? He needed to stay in his own lane.

“Rodi/mus…” His hand moved to the arm, guiding the other to stop eating. “You are not doing well, I can tell. I can help you.”

Rodi/mus sneered, pulling his arm free from the other. What was wrong with wanting to not let all this ice cream go to waste? He spent good credits on this- as well as having to make an unscheduled stop. Why didn’t anybody notice all the work he put into things?

“Just let me be.”

“Let me help you. We can talk- “

“Look, if you don’t want any ice cream, why don’t you shove off?”

“Rodi/mus…”

“Dri/ft…” The red and yellow mech threw an angered glare at the other but regretted it. “Look…. I just… I just want to be alone right now.”

Dri/ft sighed and solemnly nodded. “As you wish. I shall give you your privacy. But I must warn you.” His servo gestured to the now flabbier body. “Your change in habits can have some unhealthy results.”

“Just what the slag you talking about?”

“Your coping mechanism…” Dri/ft bit his lip. “It will catch up to you.”

“You have an issue with me now because I put on a few extra pounds?”

“It's far more than a few extra pounds- “

“What, are you taking measurements?”

“No- “

“Does me eating hurt your inner arura or whatever that scrap is?”

“No.” Dri/ft’s tone grew stern as his lips pressed together to form a line. “I have no qualms about your physical appearance, Rodi/mus. But I just fear the reasoning behind the sudden weight gain.”

“I checked out just fine at my last check-up with Rat/chet.”

“Perhaps you should speak with Ru/ng.”

“Ru/ng?” Rodi/mus snorted. “Look, I aint crazy.”

“No one ever said you were.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?” Rod/imus slammed his fist on the table, and the TIC raised his servos in defeat.

“I just wish to say one thing before I leave you to yourself.” Dri/ft stood up and put his hands on his hips. “Drowning your problems with food is not the solution. Trust me, addiction is the easy way out. But if you keep this up, you’ll be weighed down by more than whatever bothers you. Also, I am here for you whenever you are ready to talk.”

“That was two things you said, not one,” Rodi/mus grumbled, serving himself another spoonful of ice cream. As if angered by the conversation, his belly grumbled loudly.

Dri/ft opened his mouth to retort, but just shook his helm instead. With saddened optics, he watched the other resume his binge eating for a moment before taking his leave.

Deep down, he knew Dri/ft was correct. But how could he stop when eating was the one thing that made him feel so good? Despite his belly churning and the tell-tale signs of a belly ache forming, Rodi/mus kept eating. Even when his belly grew so taunt and painful that even his servos couldn’t comfort the beast, spoonful after spoonful of rich, chocolate peanut butter ice cream was shoved into his maws.  Even when it became so hard to swallow, he continued- he would finish this tub of ice cream if it was the last thing he did!

… … …

When did this hallway become so long? Rodi/mus huffed as he waddled his way towards the bridge of the ship. Apparently, today’s meeting was of the utmost importance, so his presence was demanded instead of video chat. And not only did that mean getting himself out of the berth, but it also meant dragging himself halfway across the ship.

And this was simply too much work!

What exactly was the reason for this unscheduled meeting? Rodi/mus whined for hours with Ul/tra Mag/nus about what was so important, but he wouldn’t blab. What, now officers on board his ship could no longer speak to him? No longer tell him the truth?

It was bad enough having unannounced guests visit his captain's quarters over the past month. No one wanted to see him unless they wanted to voice their concern for his weight gain. He still ran this ship, didn’t he?

Well, half-run the ship would be more accurate.

Did he slack off on his duties? No. Did he miss any meetings? No—well, one was missed, but that was because of a too-small shower stall issue—but that didn’t count! His responsibilities of running this ship were still performed.

Yet, in the past several weeks, Ratc/het paid him a visit, bringing with him his medical supplies and grumpy attitude. Tests were run, and while levels came back elevated, they were considered normal range. Which normally was good, but the medic felt the need to drill onto him the warnings of increased weight gain and decreased activity.

Once Rat/chet was shoved off, another medic took his place a few days later. While more upbeat, Ai/d’s help was not desired or needed. Even Amb/ulon’s straightforward, no-nonsense approach was as annoying as slag. All three medics were sent on their way, chided for wasting their breath and his time.

They could have at least brought him a snack!

Not even halfway to his destination, Rodi/mus had to stop for a break. His chest heaved as he desperately sucked in cool air. His pedes hurt. His legs felt like jello. Prim/us, how long has it been since he walked this far?

There really should be some chairs in the hallway!

Instead, the blob of a mech rested against the wall, swiping his servo across his brow. He was sweating like a cyberpig. He'd be a sopping mess by the time he’d make it to the conference room!

This is just great!

He also noticed that his thighs burned as if scorched by a fire. Glancing down and pulling that pillow of a tummy out of the way, he saw the protomesh was pink and raw. Chub-rub. Perfect.

What a way to be seen outside his quarters!

‘Who would be the first to notice?’ Rodi/mus scowled, banging his fists against the hallway as he slowly began shuffling along his way. Would it be Rat/chet and his know-it-all attitude? Would Ai/d baby talk him and try to slather cream all over the massive thigh flab? Or would Dri/ft be all over this whole ‘talk about your feelings’ crap again?

Couldn’t mechs take a hint to leave someone alone for once?

Rounding the final turn, Rodi/mus rested upon the conference room door frame. His chest heaved as he panted to catch his breath. His frame pinged warnings of overheating. Sweat dripped down his face, down his body, and into his many flab rolls. Everything hurt!

He felt lightheaded, as if he was about to pass out. All the red and white mech wanted to do was sit down and relax! Walking this far was challenging; it took all his strength to remain upright and not collapse onto the floor.

 The air conditioning better be one during this meeting!

Once his breathing rate slowed, Rodi/mus palmed open the door.

And what did he see?

Gone was the long table lined with chairs. The room was redecorated into something a little cozier. There was an oversized couch in the center that just called out his name! As he waddled inside, he noted the room’s cooler temperature, which felt terrific against his hot frame!

But what he saw next stopped him dead in his tracks.

There were many mechs sitting around that couch. Rat/chet sat with his arms crossed over his chest, and Fir/st Aid perc/hed on the chair next to him. Ski/ds and Ult/ra Mag/nus were each seated with datapads in their servo’s as well.

“Rodi/mus!” Dri/ft greeted in a soft, kind tone. He walked towards the larger mech with arms open and hugged the other.

“What’s going on here?”

“Why don’t you have a seat, Rodi/mus.” Ru/ng smiled, gesturing to the sofa.

And Rodi/mus didn’t like the look of this. “Why… why are you all here sitting around like this?”

 “A lot of people care about you and have a few things they wish to read to you- “

“What the slag!” Rodi/mus shouted. He couldn’t believe it! Was this real or another bothersome nightmare? “Is this… for real…. Is this an intervention?”

“Rodi/mus, just have a seat,” Ru/ng coaxed, but the words fell upon deaf audials.

If Rodi/mus could spit fire, he would! Talk about being ambushed! “Who did it?” His optics scoured the room. “Whose idea was this?” His pudgy servos clenched to fists as his double chins bounced with each word he screamed. “I swear!”

“Rodi/mus…” Mega/tron’s voice boomed.

And Rodi/mus flinched. “It was you, wasn’t it? This was all YOUR idea?”

“This talk has been long overdue- “

I don’t fragging care! I am NEVER going to have a discussion with you!” Rodi/mus turned on his pedes. “I’m going back to my room!”

“Do you think you will make the trip?”

“Shut your slagging trap, Mega/tron!” Rodi/mus bellowed.

But the ex-con had a point.

Could he make the trip back to his quarters?

#chubformers #siberat drabbles

[siberat]

There’s Always Room for Dessert

Have a little t/c x rat/chet Drabble. I am not on word nor have access to grammarly, so only simply edified.

The secret lovers meet up at a Buffett, and eating ensues. Chubfic.

Feeling the table press into his swollen gut was both satisfying and annoying. Another unplanned meet-up with the blue see/ker resulted in fine dinning at a local buffet. While the food may not have been top notch, it satiated one’s desire to pig out. And now Ratc/het sat back in the booth, rubbing his swollen gut.

“Don’t tell me you are full already,” Thunde/rcracker grinned, eyeing the massive belly. “I still haven’t hit up the dessert table.”

The medic groaned, rolled his optics, and stifled a burp. “I ain’t no whelp. However, I think dinner is done.”

“I’d say so.” The see/ker’s hand reached over and gave the paunch a playful pat. “Shall I select you something tasty from the cake section?”

“You better, or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else I’m going back to my room and sleeping this off.”

Thunder/cracker pouted. The pair didn't spend a lot of time together- being in the middle of a war had several drawbacks. And what little time he had, the ‘Co/n wanted to make last.

“Don’t you worry, my sweets. I will serve you the best tasting desserts available.” The see/ker rose to his feet. “Well, at least the best this place has to offer.”

“You better make it worth the wait.” The medic barked, a devious grin appearing on his face. While the flier loved watching the Auto/bot devour plate after plate, that gruff attitude always shown up if that mouth wasn’t full.

And Thunderc/racker loved it! That biting attitude, while always in jest, just really proved how playful the other could be. Because we all know under that hardened exterior, Rat/chet was such a softy.

Well, as of late, the medic’s protoform under his plating was growing soft as well.

But soon enough, a heaping plateful of cake slices, brownies, chocolates and ice creams were set in front of the medic.

“You better put your money where your mouth is,” T/C deeply growled as he took a seat next to the stuffed mech.

Ratc/het only responded by licking his lips and rubbing his belly as he looked over the mountain of scrumptious sweets in front of him. All the chosen foods looks so good! How could he choose which to consume first?

Turns out, the decision was made for him as a forkful of the rich, chocolate brownies was pressed to his lips. And just how could one deny such a decedent treat? The medic’s mouth opened and as soon as the warm, gooey mess hit his taste sensors, his engines rumbled.

And as soon as servo’s rubbed at his swollen tummy his cooling fans clicked on.

In fact, Ratc/het didn’t know what was better- being fed by his secret Decep/ticon lover or getting those belly rubs! When it came to attention, the see/ker never skimped. Nor let down. It was as if the fattened mech’s body was an idol, and T/C was the devout worshipper. And when it came to tending to needs, T/C had all bases covered.

“Here,” The See/ker held up a tall glass of cold ener-melk. “Tell me this doesn't hit the spot.”

Rat/chet didn’t need to take a gulp to know this beverage went well with the brownie- or any of the other desserts. He took a gulp before opening his mouth for more food.

And more came. Bit after bite of sweets were fed. Swallow after swallow sweets were devoured. It only took half the deserts being consumed for that belly to growl out in warnings of the upcoming belly ache. But Rat/chet did not stop. The food simply tasted to good to say no!

That, and Thunder/cracker did not relent with shoving food into his maws. Of course, Ratc/het didn’t stop him.

But as the medic began to slow down, that servo rubbed with more purpose at that rounded paunch. The touch was soft and gentle in the beginning, but now, the pressure of the touch built. Every little rumble of a belly quake was chased down and messaged. And that added pressure did something within that spare tire.

Something tickled deep within his tanks, causing minor cramping before rising upward. Upon those digits pressing firmer, the sensation grew, and soon, something traveled upwards. Rat/chet was happy he had time to close his mouth as to at least save some dignity and not let a monster of a belch escape full blast!

At least this one was muffled.

“Tum-Tum feel better?”

Rat/chet nodded and opened his mouth for more. There was no way he was finished. At least, he wanted those touches to his beach-ball sized belly to continue and he knew if he kept eating, T/C would keep rubbing.

Even when breathing became hard and swallowing became such a chore, the medic pressed on. Just hearing T/C’s words of praise and those caresses of encouragement gave him strenght to polish off cakes, pies and ice cream. All too soon, that monster of a belly no longer could fit any more snacks inside. Nor could it fit within the booth!

Nearly sweating, the medic leaned back, rubbing his own servo‘s over his overstuffed and sore belly. He panted to catch his breath and wished against wish to just lay down!

“You are so well for me tonight,” T/C cooed, giving the belly a playful pinch. Anything else catch your fancy?”

“The berth,” Rat/chet boldly stated.

“Hmmmmm… How presumptuous of you,” T/C deeply hummed.

“I want to lay down.”

“Do you need further soothing?” A smile appeared on the See/kers lips.

“You know, I do expect some royal treatment after that feast I consumed for you…”

“Allow me to tend to your desires….”

And Ratchet could help but smile at that. He knew just what this evening had in store. All the tummy tickles he could want- as well as other things getting special attention.

See, there was always room for dessert.

#chubformers #siberat drabbles

[siberat]

how about something with someone finding it difficult to fly with a full belly 😁

Why did he eat so much?

The gathering was good fun. There was a lull in fighting, and the Auto/bots took the time to put together a dinner party to socialize. Swo/op couldn’t resist the urge to grace his presence.

Unlike his other Dino/bot comrades, the flyer didn’t mind mingling even when other mechs didn’t share his enthusiasm. Mind you, they weren’t rude, just relatively short. Sideways glances would be thrown his way as he forced his opinions into the topics of conversation. Some mechs would slowly step away while others humored him momentarily before excusing themselves for odd reasons.

Apparently, Swo/op was kind of avoided due to the ‘ferocity’ his alt mode had.

Usually, the arial dino loved striking fear into his enemies and would take that as a compliment. However, hearing this from his comrades was a buzz-kill. And yes, Griml/ock was quick to say, ‘I told you so,’ as well as the others, claiming this was the perfect example as to why Dino/bots and Auto/bots don’t mix.

Even so, Swo/op felt the urge to attempt to mingle. Tonight wasn’t very successful—sadly, Sky/fire was away on a deep space mission, and the Arial/bots were nowhere to be found. Flyers tended to be more accepting, but none other than Power/glide attended—and Swo/op could only take so much of that mech!

The saving grace was the smorgasbord of food that drowned out the tables. Every type of energy/oned goodies one could imagine seemed to be present! Some of Swo/op's favorites were the mac and cheese loaded with gooey, melted cheese and bacon, French onion soup, cyberfish, and steak, just to name a few.

So, when the conversation wasn’t working, the winged mech simply filled his plate with decadent foods and gobbled them up. Each mouthful brought a smile to his lips. Each swallow made his tummy growl with pleasure. Each plate finished screamed out for another! The dishes ranged from savory to smokey, spicey to tangy, and crunchy to melt-in-your-mouth scrumptious!

Once all the dinner courses were pecked at, the dessert table was visited. The rainbow-colored dishes were so pretty to look at! They were even better to taste—the cherry pies were ever so sweet and contained a hint of an almond flavor. Danishes were freshly baked and very soft, with their icing bursting with acidic citrus filling. The mousse had the best velvety textures, and the chocolates had a rich cocoa flavor!

The food was so good it wasn’t until an angry growl announced just how stuffed he became.

He rubbed his servos over the plump swell, its plating bulging out and feeling extremely taunt. Prim/us, his belly ached as it moaned, desperately working to digest such a massive feast. Sitting back, Swo/op huffed. Breathing became more of a chore. He felt as if he had swallowed a bowling ball! Probably looked like he swallowed one as well.

Overindulging was totally worth it. His taste buds still danced with joy at all the delicious flavors! As his servos pressed at his quivering gut, Swo/op licked his lips, feeling the post-feasting slumber creeping in. Glancing around, no other ‘bot seemed keen on conversing with him. And he was simply too stuffed to bother mingling anymore.

He had his fill. Now, it was time to fly home.

That is if he could get this heavy frame off the ground! The flier frowned. He didn’t think of this aspect, but his cozy nest beckoned, and he gave the party the slip.

Slag, just walking seemed to take up so much energy! His body felt heavy as he dragged himself from the gathering to a clearing. He glanced at the sky—it was clear with only a few clouds littering the way. The freedom of flying was calling to him, and he made his way to transform.

At least attempt to.

His t-cog activated, and gears whined and clicked, but total transformation did not happen. Swo/op tried a few times, but a clunking and grinding sound was heard each time. His belly was simply too big! Furring his optics, Swo/op growled, not believing for one moment he was grounded!

He sucked in his gut- even using his servos to manipulate his flab as he transformed. This was challenging- gears vibrated that shouldn’t have, his frame erratically jerked, and he swore he smelt a faint smoke smell. Finally, changing into his alt-mode was complete, and he stood on the ground in his pterodactyl form. Releasing his breath, he felt his plating creak and bulge: if he had eaten one more plate, he’d probably pop some paneling off!

With transformation out of the way, the next step was take-off, and he knew his graceful ascension into the sky was not going to be pretty. Nonetheless, he waddled to a clearing and spread his wings wide. After giving a final stretch, those wings began flapping. He felt his body slowly rise but did not lift from the ground. Working harder, Swo/op desperately worked his appendages, but it still felt like trying to make a boulder airborne.

It didn’t take long for his wing joints to tire, but a final attempt was made. Crouching down, the flyer madly flapped its wings and leaped into the sky. He was in the air for all two seconds before plummeting back onto the ground.

Sadly, his feet slipped out from under him, and he rolled forward, grimacing as his overstuffed belly took the impact. He then rolled head over feet a few times before coming to a stop. Once dirt was shaken from his face, the bird-former groaned. Longingly, he glared at the sky, but he could not sail amongst the clouds! He was grounded.

With much difficulty, he returned to his root mode- there was slightly more room for his widened frame. He sat on the ground, rubbing a servo over his grumbling belly. Saddened that he could not take to the skies, he did not regret the feast.

He was, however, happy his fellow Dino/bots did not join him, for their ridicule over his predicament would have been unbearable. A smile appeared on his lips as he bathed in the sun’s warmth, rubbing his servos over his swollen belly and reminiscing of all the tasty dishes he had consumed.

Swo/op truly did enjoy the party.

.... .....

Sorry this took so long! Sometimes I really get into a slump with writing!!

#chubformers #siberat drabbles

[siberat]

*Slides Monopoly money*

Can I have some Fattytron drabble?

(T/fp, I/dw or E/S I don't mind) Im just thirsting for a fat Mega/tron who's too full yet keeps stuffing himself to get some bot's attention (SW, Rod/dy, Mags or Op im not really picky about ships kek). But yeah, Fattytron being very full-

Never really requested drabbles before so im sorry if it's weirdly worded aaaaaa-

-not Chunkytron ☆

this is a two parter, here is part 1 ! Little bit of a slow start.

Mega/tron x Sound/wave, feeding,

The only sound emanating from the empty room was his grumbling belly. Sure, the mission to retrieve the relic was a bust, but was it really wrong of him to be angry? How hard was it to foil those pesky Auto/bots and their child counterparts? The warlord growled as he busted open a fresh box of energon goodies. He had his supper, consisting of a generous portion of food, and now it was time for dessert.

At least the snacks had been replenished. By who? He didn’t know or care; he just unwrapped the light blue round cake and took a bite. The sweetness soothed his woes, even if just for a moment. Thankfully, he had the whole box to himself.

Cake after cake was devoured, each bite bringing a smile to his lips. His tongue eagerly licked up any cream that smeared over his lips. These treats hinted at vanilla and were ever so moist; it always put Mega/tron in his happy place.

Why?

It was simple. Being stuck working in the mines with next to no pay, one could not afford such snacks. Lunch consisted of liquid energon with metal additives; while it did the job, it wasn’t anything to write home about. However, one would occasionally magically appear in his dreary lunch pail. After admiring the pretty light pink color flecked with blue geode crunches, Mega/tronus would unwrap the surprise. It smelled so lovely- he swore the little round ball just reeked of sweetness! And that first bite lit his taste sensors ablaze.

He felt as if his whole frame was lifted out of those mines and into some kind of nirvana. Each bite brought him so much joy! Sadly, like with most things in life, all good things come to an end. After licking his claws clean, there was no more to consume, and he sat there looking at the empty wrapper.

Ok, he also licked the wrapper clean, but who could blame him?

Now, all these treats were gone, making him feel just the same: sad and nothing to look forward to. The evening would be much more productive if he reviewed his battle plans instead. His rumbling belly did not agree, but there were no more of his favorite treats in stock.

You know when you just want to be alone and not bothered by anyone or anything? Yeah, this is how Mega/tron felt. So, when the door opened in this tucked away room that not many mechs used, you could imagine the annoyed look washing over his face as he gave a death glare at whoever dared to enter.

Once the door fully opened, it revealed Sound/wave's long, spindly form.

Great. Just who the Decep/ticon leader wished to catch him pigging out on sweets- it was a super-duper family-size box nonetheless. And yes, he ate them all; their empty wrappers lying around him didn’t leave any doubt about who indulged in them all.

Primus, Sound/wave better not gripe about it!

Instead, the silent warrior respectfully tipped his helm, acknowledging his leader’s presence, then walked to the pantry.

And cue a loud belly grumble. Mega/tron bent forward and curled his arm over his swelled tummy. With brows furrowed, the gray and purple mech cursed himself for not retreating to his personal quarters.

Perhaps he could just get up and leave?

Well, the sound of the other walking back to the table squashed that idea. He tried to shimmy his midsection out of view. Out of the peripheral view of his optics, Mega/tron saw Sound/wave set a large box down and then take a seat.

Couldn’t Sound/wave take a hint? Indeed, he’d not be this oblivious…

Those thin fingers made quick work of ripping the seal from the box and opening it up. His visored helm took a peek, then rubbed his servos together in what can only be imagined as glee. Then, his servos reached into the box and gently lifted out its contents.

And yes, a stupid smiley face appeared on his visor as a large cake was lifted and set on the table.

Large cake.

It was light pink with blue geode crumbles.

And very, very large!

Mega/tron couldn’t help but stare at the gorgeous sight. This was the biggest of his favored treats he had ever seen! Before he knew it, he was licking his lips and reaching out a claw to help himself.

But Sound/wave slapped his hand away and wagged a finger.

How dare he! Mega/tron’s face scrunched as he growled, watching his subordinate grab a fork and stab into his favorite treat. Just how the slag could Sound/wave eat this? He had no freaking mouth!

But that fork traveled his way, and those furrowed optics grew wide in shock. What the slag was going on here? The treat stopped just short of his lips—so close that the warlord could practically taste the sweetness.

And Mega/tron just stared at the communication officer. Was he being serious? Was he wanting to feed him this cake? While the mech may have been unsure, his belly wanted the attention.

A loud, whining gurgle erupted, demanding to be fed.

And Mega/tron had a ferocious appetite!

And that chunk of cake pressed ever so teasingly against his lips. The spindly blue mech made some clicking noises and tilted his helm to the side.

Mega/tron was no dummy. He got the hint. Hearing the other’s engines purr, it was clear Sounwave wished to feed him. And the sound of the warlord's belly grumbling, he wanted to be fed.

Was there a downside to this?

#chubformers #Siberat drabbles

[siberat]

Mega/tron x Sound/wave pt 2

here is the conclusion of the mega/tron x sound/wave Drabble. Chubfic, first kiss, belly rubs

The pace was slow and steady, giving Mega/tron plenty of time to enjoy the taste of the sweet cake. Each mouthful was delightful, filling him with momentary peace and happiness. At least until the aches and pains crept in.

While the treat was practically finished, the Warlord’s belly was obnoxiously distended. It swelled well over his hips and spilled onto his lap. Fresh stretchmarks appeared, creating a bothersome itching sensation. His clawed servos rubbed at the massive beast, but the taunt, overstuffed belly would not cease to ache!

But that fork kept pressing to his lips, and those lips kept opening to receive the offering. The Decep/ticon kept devouring until it became such a chore to swallow. There were only a few more bites left, but was there enough room?

He felt so bloated and full. His abdomen was heavy, as if he had swallowed an enormous boulder. Pain radiated out from the belly crest and pulsed through his lower frame like a stabbing sensation. And once the spasms kicked in, it was as if the stabbing knife was being twisted!

Mega/tron grimaced as another angry growl quaked through his tummy. “No more…” His helm turned to the side, denying any more food to be shoved into his maws. He felt hot as he struggled to gasp for breath.

Sound/wave tilted his helm to the side while still holding the utensils. Mega/tron only growled in response. The blue mech ex-vented and relaxed, his tentacles moving towards that rounded gut.

“What-“ Mega/tron questioned but was silenced by those appendages gently gliding over his pained midsection. They moved sensually, sliding like a cyber-snake as they worked to message the tummy. Each rumble was chased and tended to. And each hug-like touch caused the insides of his tanks to gurgle.

The Warlord’s optics shot open as pressure built up. Bubbles tickled their way up his tanks as trapped air moved. No matter how he squirmed, there was no relief. At least, not until those air pockets were freed in the form of a loud belch.

‘Bllllllrrrroooooouuuuughhhhhhhhh”

And yes, it echoed through the room. Hell, Vehi/cons on the control deck probably heard that monstrous bark!

His cheeks flushed at such uncouth behavior, but his stomach felt better. While still present, the aches subsided. And this time, when that forkful of cake returned to his mouth, he opened wide.

Talk about a weird shift in events: first, the anger and disappointment in failing to retrieve the relic led to a secret binging session. Now, he was having what appeared to be a pampering session. Being fed his favorite treat while getting such a luxurious belly rub really hit the spot!

Sound/wave never let him down. The slender mech was with him when he first revolted against Cybertron’s corrupt senate. He stood by his side when forming the Decep/ticon’s. Hell, even back in the mine’s Sound/wave stuck with him-

A sudden thought crossed his mind. How odd was it that his most loyal ‘Con knew what kind of cake to serve? Was he the one ensuring the stock was readily available? Come to think of it, was he responsible for sneaking them in his lunch pail while working in the mines?

Once again, Mega/tron turned his head away from being fed. “Sound/wave…Back…back in the mines… was that you who surprised me with these round little cakes?”

The spindly blue mech nodded yes.

“And keeping the stock on board the ship?”

Once again, he nodded.

“Why?”

Sound/wave shrugged and patted at the belly with a tentacle while revving an engine.

“They…. They are my favorites…..” Mega/tron’s voice trailed off as he saw the other nod in agreement again. A funny feeling started to take over his body; a tingly feeling traveled from his spark to his pedes.

Why was Sound/wave treating him this way?

Yes, he was dedicated. Yes, he obeyed. And apparently, he knew just how to make him feel better—stuffing his belly so full of tasty energon food!

As the last mouthful was devoured, Mega/tron was shocked the entire dessert had been consumed!

The sound of the utensil being set on the empty plate rang, followed by pedesteps. Sound/wave vanished from sight, yet the belly rubs continued. In fact, the mechs servo’s gently cradled the gray helm, coaxing it to lean back and relax. Fingers gently rubbed tight circles at the temples.

The tension in his helm dissipated under the gentle touch of his subordinate. Closing his optics, the Warlord relaxed into the soothing touch, leaning back to further expose his bloated midsection. The chair creaked under the shifting weight but thankfully held firm. The rumbling sound of both his belly and Sound/waves engines quickly took his mind off previous stressors.

Primus, if this kept up, he was bound to fall asleep right here on the spot!

 But the question remained: Why was Sound/wave doing this? Not many mechs dared pamper the leader of the Decep/ticons. Slag—there weren’t many mechs Mega/tron would allow to touch him like this.

But Sound/wave was safe- he always was. Reflecting back, there was never a time his comrade’s presence wasn’t welcomed. In the mines, the companionship staved off the loneliness. In the gladiatorial pits, the blue mech tended to any wounds. And while on board the Neme/sis, he proved to be loyal.

 Sound/wave was one of his few trusted friends. In fact, he may be the only one bestowed with that honor.

And if his most dedicated follower wished to grope his belly, who was he to stop him? Sure, it was rather odd… having his chub groped and explored was not something he had experienced before. Hell, the tentacle even had no shame in creeping between flab rolls or pinching at his soft and squishy love handles. In fact, Mega/tron had to stifle a laugh on occasion- it just made his belly ache hurt worse!

But those hands on his helm didn’t stay put. They glided down his head, tracing along the cabling of his neck, then worked at messaging his tense shoulders. Mega/tron couldn’t help but purr at that contact. The cogs in his shoulders and through his back were tight as hell, and feeling that strong pressure aided in loosening the tension.

“Sound/wave….” Mega/tron cooed, a smile unknowingly appearing on his face. The soothing touches loosened his frame, easing all that tension and making him much more relaxed. The Warlord’s breathing slowed as his frame sank deep within the chair. With optics closed, the mech let up his defenses and allowed the other to touch as he pleased.

And before he knew it, those servos crept down over his broad chest, rubbing rhythmically in circles. Mega/tron didn’t stop him—the touch was welcomed and felt amazing. Upon feeling the warmth of Sound/waves ex-vets against his neck, he tilted his helm to the side.

So, how does one really show affection to a mech without a face? Apparently, through face snuggles. The masked mech gently pressed his helm to the others' neck cabling, like a cybercat rubbing its head adoringly upon its owner. The flier’s engines revved and purred while hands groped and tentacles hugged.

How long has it been since the Decep/ticon leader felt so valued? How long has it been since his frame felt so relaxed and well, tingly good? Or how long has it been since he felt so comfortable in another mech’s presence?

Too long. In fact, Mega/tron forgot that it was possible to ever feel this way- to feel so…. Well, just how was he feeling?

Safe.

Secure.

Cherished.

He knew he was in the presence of his most trusted ally, but his actions were still a tad confusing. What motives did his subordinate truly have? Why was he doting on him so much and caressing his frame so tenderly?

Mega/tron turned his helm to look at the other and was immediately met with Sound/wave’s helm. And something happened within his frame upon staring into that…. Well, masked visor? His spark pulsed faster as it felt like his breath was stolen. His body felt tingly, like anticipation right before a gladiatorial battle. His tummy quivered as if it held pesky little butterflies.

But as the duo stared at each other, neither dared to look away. Instead, the distance slowly closed as the tension grew. But this didn’t stop the Warlord from closing his optics and pressing his lips against the other’s…. well, glass.

And upon that intimate contact, Sound/wave vibrated with excitement. His arms snuggly hugged the larger mechs fame, and tentacles quivered over the rounded paunch as what could only be deciphered as happy little squeaks emitted.

As the pair rested their helms together, Mega/tron smiled softly. What exactly just happened?

While he may not have the answers, the gray mech liked whatever it was. And from the way Sound/wave vibrated around him, the feeling was mutual.

Perhaps he should stuff himself silly more often

#chubformers #Siberat drabbles #First kiss #belly rubs

[siberat]

roasting marshmallow

I can imagine a chubby sky/fire easily and eagerly keeping a lover warm Dispite being stuck in a blizzard. That soft marshmallow would simply wrap his pudgy frame around the other mech and hug. Engines would be purring as he happily hummed in enjoyment. The jets arms would rub smoothly up and down the others chilly frame and pulling them close to his pillowed gut until his lover no longer shivered.

‘All warm and cozy?’ Sky/fire’s voice calls out gently as his pecks a kiss on top the other’s helm.

the other mech simply snuggles in deeper, closing their optics and letting the sound of the larger jets engines-and grumbling belly- lull them into recharge.

#chubformers #Random Drabble #siberat drabbles #ok #procrastinating doing some art

[siberat]

May I request some nice and fat Rod/imus just spoiling himself? Probably gets warned for getting too fat....

sorry for the delay- and I added to the prompt.

rodi/mus x dri/ft x rat/chet. Chubfic

rodi/mus is in much need of a change in perspective. Dr/ift comes to the rescue (Rat/chet helps) and so does some tasty foods.

#chubformers #siberat drabbles

[siberat]

what Did I Do?

Little quick Drabble for my buddy! B.lastoff / on.slaught. Angst, binge eating…. Belching….

No sooner did the shared habsuit door close did he let out a quivering sigh. Just what had possessed him to do what he had done? Did he lose his mind? Heaving deep breaths, Bla/st O/ff peeled himself from leaning against the door and smacked his servo on his helm.

“Stupid…. Stupid…. Stupid!” Each word was followed by hitting himself on the helm as he paced around his room. His frame still tingled with the dread of realizing the severity of what he had done.

And just what did he do?

He performed a cardinal sin amongst the Decep/ticons: he honestly spilled his feelings in a silly little love note to his crush. And he gave it to said crush.

So, when he was called into his boss’s office, one of two things would happen: On/slaught would finally acknowledge him and return the feelings… or On/slaught would finally acknowledge him and humiliate him for being so foolish.

It turns out neither of those options happened. As Bla/st O/ff sat in the chair, he noticed his stupid, school-girl love note had fallen to the ground. His spark froze in his chest: his crush didn’t read it! Biting his lip, he wondered if he could snatch the incriminating evidence and save his face.

Sadly, On/slaught discovered the note, stopped rambling about battle plans (for once), and bent down to pick it up.

And much to the subordinate’s horror, he unfolded the note and read it—yup, right in front of him.

Talk about sweating bullets! His stomach churned as his frame warmed. His fingers idly fidgeted as he squirmed in his seat. Naturally, the Lead Combat/icon’s expression was unreadable, so he had no clue how his love/boss felt.

Until the note was lowered. And On/slaught stared into Bla/st O/ff’s optics blankly.

And this moment of silence was deafening. It was quieter than being in deep space. It felt like hours had passed, and he could not pull his fearful stare from the blue mech.

But being the coward he was, Bla/st O/ff stuttered, apologizing profusely as he bolted out the meeting room door. Yes, On/slaught called after him, but he couldn’t muster the courage or strength to obey. Instead, he ran back to his small habsuit, tears sliding down his reddening face.

This leads him to where he is currently: pacing his room and biting at his fingertips. Just what did he get himself into? And how could he get himself out of this?

He couldn’t remain still. He needed to do something before the repetitive self-destructive thoughts took over. Sadly, he suffered bouts of this and gave in to old habits. He snagged a bunch of snacks from the shared kitchen—more than his fair share—and retreated to his personal sleeping quarters.

He sat upon his berth, replaying the humiliating scene repeatedly in his processor as he mindlessly opened boxes of sweets and freed them from the plastic wrappers. As soon as that sweetness filled his mouth, he felt a smidge better. The moist, cream-filled cake lit his taste receptors, causing them to dance with joy.

Primus, junk food always hits the spot when feeling down!

As soon as one little calcium cake was finished, fingertips were sucked clean, and another was pulled from the box. Bla/st O/ff cooed with each bite, optics slitting to half-moons as each treat was greedily devoured. Each swallow brought happiness to replace the fear. Each new cake unwrapped promised the excitement of such a pleasurable experience. Each time his maws sunk in, squishing pink cream around his lips, the ‘Co/n felt like he was in some kind of utopia.

This abruptly ended with his servo reaching into an empty box. The family-sized treats, which had previously been unopened, didn’t last very long. Licking his lips, Bla/st O/ff sighed and discarded the empty box. Thankfully, there was plenty more to choose from.

Box after box, the Cyber/tonian treats were devoured. While the pace slowed down, the shuttle continued to engorge himself on this unhealthy feast. His belly soon swelled, grumbling with being stuffed so full. Upon a painful spasm, Bla/st O/ff grimaced and rubbed a servo over the massive ball that sat upon his lap.

“Primus,” The Co/n stared at the aftermath of his binge. “I really overdid it this time…” Glancing around, he saw the evidence of his raid. Empty boxes and wrappers littered his berth and floor. His gestalt mates would surely be mad!

His belly gave a clench, and its owner whimpered. Pressure was building up just below his chest despite the rubbing. His abdomen felt extremely bloated as tightness kicked in. Suddenly, a loud gurgling noise trembled through his tummy. Bla/st O/ff clenched his optics shut as fingers desperately worked to soothe this angry beast!

“Ah….” Bla/st O/ff whined, feeling as if there was something stuck in his pipes. It slowly bubbled upwards, and no amount of swallowing could halt its progress. Unable to contain this anymore, a loud, echoing belch erupted.

“Bwwwoooorrrrrruuuuuggggghhhhhhhpppp!”

Prim/us, how undignified! However, his stomach felt better as it rumbled on his lap. He sighed, leaning back to relax before he had to clean up his room.

“Excuse you.” A voice called out, snapping the shuttle from his blissful state.

Bla/st O/ff, whipping his helm around, discovered On/slaught standing in his doorframe, staring at him.

Oh dear Prim/us, could this day get any worse? He tucked over himself, attempting to hide his gut from the other’s view. “O…On/slaught…. I…..” Dang, tears welled up in his optics as he felt his cheeks grow hot. “What…I… I’m so-“

The leader of the gestalt held up his hand, beckoning silence. His other hand raised, revealing a clear plastic container holding a geode-cheese cake. “I…thought you might like something sweet…”

Was that a hint of a smile appearing on On/slaught’s faceplates

#chubformers #siberat drabbles

[siberat]

Try This On for Size

gift promp for @mr-miss-anonymous , on/off fic involving Lingerie. Mild adult topics, chubfic

Talk about an odd request!

But come on, this is Bla/st Of/f we are talking about, and when On/slaughtdesires something, do you think he will not obey?

It’s been a few weeks since the pair decided to finally make the leap and share a berth room. You can bet that made the shuttle’s spark flutter- as well as make him squeal like a little schoolgirl, complete with dancing in place! Finally, to wake up in his bigger leaders’ solid arms and smell that luscious musk surrounding him like fog during an early morning was definitely a dream come true.

And that definitely happened. Bla/st Of/f loved how safe and secure he felt, all tucked in next to his adoring lover, who smelt so strongly of burnt oil!

That’s not all. It turns out that On/slaughtenjoyed cuddling, and the brown and purple Decep/ticon had no qualms about being the smaller spoon. He just loved his commander’s servos creeping over his body in the moments right before drifting off into recharge. Feeling the other gently trace seems, or cup at his growing waistline was ever so soothing.

That was another thing. Bla/st Of/f had put on a few extra pounds these days. The war was dying down, and energon rations were not as strict. So, naturally, he did not feel guilty going for seconds or thirds. In fact, On/slaughteven encouraged it.

How?

Well, he would bring back such tasty treats upon returning from his shift and had no qualms about egging him on to indulge himself. And just how could the shuttle resist? The treats were his favorite—small little yellow cakes covered with pink frosting and loaded with little granite crumbles. They were such a nice mix between soft and crunch, and the flavor just killed one with sweetness! Golly Bla/st Of/f was known to polish the entire box in one sitting.

Then, he sat himself down for a full-course meal.

But anyway, onto the present. Bla/st Of/f was tucked away in the bathroom and looked at himself in the full-body mirror. Was On/slaughtserious, or was this just some harsh joke?

About ten minutes earlier, his lover presented him with a wrapped box and flushed cheeks. OMG, his leader looked so cute with reddened cheeks and smiling bashfully. This sight wasn’t seen nearly enough! Not a mech to be rude, Bla/st Of/f kindly listened as On/slaughtasked if he could wear that gift to berth tonight. It would please him ever so much.

The shuttle eagerly agreed without opening the box, which perhaps was a mistake. But he was a devout and dedicated lover: he would do anything to please his partner! However, the last thing he expected to find in that box was a lacey, pink-colored body suit, complete with attached garters and stockings. Soft little feather-like puffs lined the edges, and the garment was so skimpy it was practically nothing…

And he must have made a face because On/slaughtbecame a stuttering mess, claiming he didn’t have to wear it if he didn’t want to. However, Bla/st Of/f was a mech of his word. Just the other night, he claimed there should never be any hesitation to ask if anything could be done for such a deserving boss… it’s just the shuttle thought more of sucking something off… or something along those lines… not dressing like some whore-bot…

Yes, back to looking at his plump body stuffed into this skimpy little outfit. His belly, while constrained in tight yet stretchy lacey fabric, swelled past his hips. The corset-like top clung tightly upon his boxy chest, tied so tightly it made his love handles spill out more than usual. Frilly little straps of the built-in garter belt ran over his thick thighs and attached to silky smooth pink nylons (which were hard to put on- there was no way the shuttle wanted to put a run in these things)

And let’s not forget the thong underwear. Primus, it was like he had dental floss between two enormous marshmallows (yes, his fat ass).

Anyway, back to the question: Was On/slaughtserious about this? Did his lover really wish to see his fat frame shoved inside this skimpy and dainty garment that barely contained his flab?

Blast Odd ran his servos down his frame and simply adored how silky-smooth the material felt as it clung to his frame. Wow, this felt amazing. That fabric rubbed so teasingly against his frame- tickling ever so nicely in all the right spots.

Despite his unsureness, his frame heated up. Did he look bad? If his lover wanted to see him all dolled up in this outfit, he would provide- he did as he was told. In fact, upon the shuttle’s agreement to try it on, that smile adorned On/slaught’s lips was delightful!

Suddenly, his train of thought took a different path. Yes, his leader told him plenty of times to be more confident in himself, so he might as well give it a shot, right?

He looked good.

He looked sexy.

His cooling fans clicked on as his servos rubbed over his doughy belly and traced the garters down his fat thighs. His interface paneling opened, releasing his already stiffening spike and leaking port.

Golly, Bla/st Of/f could hardly wait for what was to come! If he didn’t want to lose himself so soon, he would have stood there stroking himself some more, but he had a special someone to entertain. And just because he was pitching a tent did not give him an excuse to not deliver.

After a few final adjustments, Bla/st Of/f bit his lip as he checked himself over; he looked more than presentable. It was time to go out and make On/slaughthappy—give him what he wanted—and perhaps make him beg for mercy.

Either way, Bla/st Of/f didn’t care…. For he was confident he was going to get lucky tonight. And just knowing that tank wanted him was enough to give him the courage to open the bathroom door and step out

#chubformers #siberat drabbles #robots in lingerie

[siberat]

nighttime belly rubs

Imagine 2 lover-bots recharging in a berth. One’s belly keeps angrily growling. The other mech slowly onlines.

Blinks their optics a few times.

what is that noise? They look over to see the hump of a belly swell under the blankets. Looks like someone’s had a late night snack! With each gurgle the mech swears the paunch vibrates and shakes.

tomorrow is a busy day- recharge is needed! So, said mech cuddles up with the other, wrapping an arm around the still recharging mech while the other servo gently rubs at the restless tummy.

hopefully this will quiet the growling beast….

#chubformers #siberat drabbles #who are the mechs? #Up to youuuuuu

[siberat]

Another little prompt idea for you: a bot baby talking and cooing at their partner’s jiggly belly? Bonus points if partner pretends to be exasperated but finds the attention very endearing lol

Sitting back in his chair never felt better! In fact, Vor/tex reclined the chair back to lessen the pressure on his overly stuffed tummy. This was new to him: usually, it was A/id who enjoyed packing down the food. However, the ‘C/on, being a smart-aft, spoke taunting words to the Auto/bot.

And the Auto/bot called him out on it.

So, the roles were reversed. Instead of Vor/tex proudly showing off and feeding his lover the full-course meal, A/id got his payback. And the chopper couldn’t back down- he never backed down from a challenge! What kind of Deceptic/on would he be if he chickened out? Especially to an Auto/bot?

He was way too proud for that.

Plus, it was rather rewarding to see A/id’s face light up with glee as he took charge for once. The once meek and timid Auto/bot finally grew a pair and had no qualms about throwing sass around. Vor/tex quite liked the new A/id with his fiercely stern glares and bold demands!

 The pair started with the hors d’oeuvres, which consisted of greasy, deep-fried mozzarella sticks smothered in marinara sauce. They were fed bite by bite, the melty cheese pulling off in gooey strings.

“Baby liked those, didn’t he?” A/id cooed, pushing the empty dish aside and replacing it with a bowl filled to the brim with soup.

“Oh, this is such a big-boy meal. Can my little mech handle this? For someone so small, it may be too much!” A large spoonful of hearty, robo-chicken corn chowder was flown into the awaiting mouth, airplane style. Tex, of course, rolled his optics at the antics. For Prim/us’ sake, he was a helicopter, at least! This dish was filling on its own, and Tex felt his stomach grow heavy when the spoon clinked in the empty bowl.

“Oh, such a good little baby, hmmm?” A/id spoke in a higher-pitched, squeaky voice. “Did you have enough?”

But the feeding was nowhere near finished.

The main course was a roasted cyber-duck with all the fixings. The sides included Hasselback butternut squash, mushroom rice, cranberry pecan stuffing, and bread dumplings. The squash was very sweet, and the mushroom rice had that distinct earthy taste. However, everything was just so filling! And A/id didn’t give up. Vor/tex was not about to call it quits- he would NOT lose this battle.

The interrogator’s belly ballooned out, painfully expanding against his plating. And dessert still had to be served! Of course, Fi/rst A/id asked if he needed to stop, but there was no way he’d admit defeat.

However, there was no objection to the medic removing his abdominal plating. And once that blubbery protoform was freed and exploded onto his lap, a smidge of relief was felt. This feeling was short-lived, for a colossal strawberry cheesecake awaited him.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Fi/rst A/id spoke, trying to stifle a gloating smirk. “Such a big dish….”

Vor/tex furrowed his optics and matched the smirk. “No problem.”

“Oh, lookit this big, bad ‘C/on stepping up to the plate?” A/id giggled and winked as a plate holding a large slice of cake was pushed forward. “Let’s see how much of a big bot you really are, hmmm? Or is it all just hot air?” A spoon cut the tip off the yellow cake drizzled with red sauce and crystal strawberries and was pressed to his lips. “Open wide, big boy.”

Never taking his optics off the doctor’s, Vor/tex opened up. His mouth was filled with intoxicating sweetness. This was tasty, the sheer deliciousness awakening his taste receptors as if on fire, but he was just so full! His belly began to clench and groan in protest. Long, whiny gurgles erupted, registering warnings of pain at his more than overfilled tanks. But he swallowed. And opened his mouth for the next offering.

“Oh, lookit you go,” A/id cooed. You are so demanding… yelling at me as if I am not feeding you fast enough.”

Vor/tex rolled his optics. He didn’t speak a word. Prim/us, the way this dessert was shoveled in, he didn’t have time to speak. Bite after bite, the ‘C/on worked hard to win this unspoken challenge.

“I’m going as fast as possible.” A/id pouted, but eventually the last of the cake slice was consumed. “How are you feeling now, sweetie-pie?”

Vor/tex grimaced as he stifled a burp. His belly violently rumbled. Servos rubbed over his bloated paunch that heavily rested upon his lap. His tummy was no longer sleek and slim; now, it was as if he had swallowed a beachball filled with cement.

“Oh, you want more? Whatever you say, sweetcheeks!” A/id didn’t even bother cutting another slice; he stabbed another bite from the cake.

“Wha- “

His protests were silenced with another mouthful of dessert. Prim/us, he didn’t know how much more of this he could take! Breathing became more challenging, and sweat beaded from his brow. The room felt warm, yet more and more food was shoved into his maw. And the belly grumbles became angrier and more strained. His belly throbbed in agonizing pain as if daggers stabbed from the inside. Oh, how he yearned for relief from this torment!

“Aww, poor baby,” A/id pouted, setting down the fork and pushing the half-eaten cake away. “Was that too much to handle? Does baby need a break?”

The only response Vor/tex could muster was a sickening groan. His tanks were beyond stuffed. If he moved too quickly, he bet he’d get sick.

“Wanna sit down in that comfy-womfy recliner?” Vor/tex shook his helm yes as his belly gurgled and quivered like an earthquake. “Here, allow me to help you.” A/id’s servo gently patted at the rock-hard belly as he made a tsk sound, then held a hand out to help the bloated ‘C/on to his pedes, then to sA/id chair.

And now, Vor/tex sat relaxing, watching A/id rummaging through his tote. Some pink fluid was brought out and poured into a little cup. The medic walked over to the pained ‘C/on and held the cup out.

“Here, take this.”

“N-No more A/id,” Tec’s face contorted while his optics screamed for mercy. “If I eat anything else, I’ll pop!”

“It’s medicine,” A/id put the cup to the other’s lips. “It’ll help soothe that belly ache, babe.”

The pink fluid was tipped into parted lips, its chalky taste coating the mouth and throat when swallowed.

“Now, where were we?” A/id spoke as he pushed the chopper’s legs apart and dropped to his knees. “I think someone needs a reward…. Don’t you think?” Servos rubbed over that swollen beachball of a belly, ghosting the gentlest touch over that stretched protomesh. “Just lookit how big you got. Are you all full and cozy?”

Vor/tex rolled his optics, then clenched them shut as yet another gurgle rippled through his gut.

“Awwww, that’s it…. Let it out, baby.” A/id cooed. His servos rubbed in wide circles over the vast crest of the tummy, then his face dipped in to steal a kiss. “You did such a swell job. I think you need a reward, don’tcha think?”

Vor/tex’s engines nearly revved at that thought, and he repositioned his hips for what he thought he would receive. However, the medic’s hands stilled any movement.

“Oh, don’t worry. All my attention is going to be on you and you alone…” A/id sA/id sweetly, between pecking kisses to the rumbly belly. “I’ll make you feel all good in no time.”

“Hey A/id…. I’m up here…” Vor/tex pointed his servos upwards and gave his most alluring grin, but his partner paid him no mind.  Instead, he just felt the belly rub and kisses. “You know….” He sighed, resting his helm on the back of the chair. He could go for some kisses right about now…but his lover was too busy focusing on his bulging stomach. He couldn’t stop himself from rolling his optics at his lover’s actions.

 He wanted to be doted on…. Not his tummy.

“Oh, you are such a big boy, aren’t ya?” A/id hummed, giving a long smooch to the tummy while servo’s gently patted. “Such a lovely tum-tum! What a treat you are to behold.”

Oh, Prim/us! That patting, while gentle, just jostled around his stuffed gut, causing it to churn. He could feel cramps kicking in as the pressure built inside. This was the worst case of the bubble guts he had ever experienced! It felt as if pop rocks and soda were mixed in his gut as excess gas built up and tickled from the inside. Painful spasms erupted, and fingers chased the contracting areas but to no avail. Nothing would soothe this angry breast!

 That tickling sensation traveled upwards, and the ‘C/on’s optics shot open. Pressure rose up his throat, and without much warning, a large bark of a burp erupted and echoed through the room. His servo quickly covered his mouth, fearing the expulsion of stomach contents. Thankfully, it was just a loud, wet belch. However, the acidic tang of fluid did not serve well as an after-dinner mint.

“Oh, that sounds like someone’s a piggy-wiggy!” A/id used a higher-pitched, cutsey-wutsy tone to his voice as his nose was gently rubbed against the firm mesh. “Someone needs to learn some manners, doesn’t he? Hmmmm?”

Vor/tex growled, though from annoyance from his partner or relief of the built-up pressure, no one knew. But each time his belly quaked, fingers were quick to rub small, soothing circles over the erupting spasms. And every time pressure built in his gut, A/id worked to free the trapped gas, pressing the belly just enough to literally burp the air out of him.

“Does baby feel better now that he’s been burped?” A/id coddled, messaging his fingers on the still swelled but not quite as bloated belly. “There’s a good boy…you ate so well for me tonight…”

Fi/rst A/id prattled on complimenting the paunch, and Vor/tex just harrumphed. Until those hands and mouth travelled southward. He licked his lips and spread his legs in anticipation of what was to come.

And let out a frustrated whine when those digits danced and mouth sucked on his chubbed up thighs and not…well, somewhere else. “Prim/us A/id!” The ‘C/on all but shouted. “You’re such a fraggin’ tease!”

“Hmmmm?” The medic feigned innocence. “Oh, these juicy drumsticks need some loving, would you say?”

Vor/tex only responded with a yelp as a set of teeth sunk into the meaty inner thigh, followed by licking and sucking. And when the Auto/bot hummed, the vibrations tickled through his thigh, shooting up his neuronet like a lightning bolt. If only that humming was someplace else…

But having his plumper thighs messaged at felt erotic. While he would never admit this out loud, having his partner dote and coo over his swelled tummy was nice. Just knowing A/id enjoyed feeding him made him feel good. Just knowing the weight gain turned his partner on was invigorating. Hearing the happiness in the medic’s voice made it pleasurable. Plus, the enthusiasm the Doctor had over baby-talking his gut was cute and rather enjoyable.

He could do without the pain from overindulging. But the pampering being stuffed to the limits brought on- even if it was just to his belly and thighs- was well worth it.

….. …..

as much as I want to keep editing this, I need to stop! This is long enough as it is! I almost went with on/slaught (feede)with vor/tex being the feeder…. But I dont know too much about on/slaught and I just couldn’t pass up aid baby-talking that tummy! It’s your fault really for getting me hooked on t/ex a/id…. O.0. Hope you like!

#chubformers #siberat writes #siberat drabbles #siberat prompts #Chubfiction

[siberat]

what Did I do part 3

conclusion of the Bl.ast of.f x on.slaught Drabble. What kind of ending is in store for our dear shuttle? Read and find out!

“Would you look at that?” On/slaught purred, gently running his servos over the other’s thighs until resting on the swell of love handles.

The only response Bl/ast Of/f could provide was a shy smile and blush. Feeling the warmth emit from his crush's frame so close felt terrific. And those servos squishing his chubby thighs ignited such desire through his frame. He never thought he’d find himself in this situation in a million years.

Those servos made their way to the front, gently pinching the flab that dropped over the hip plating. “You’re so round and squishy.”

The shuttle snorted. “Yeah…. Fat little piggy, you mean….”

“Ah-ah…” On/slaught tisked. “My lovely, fat little piggy, yeah?”

“You…. You really find this…” He slapped his belly, sending a cascade of ripples through its mass, then shook his helm in disbelief. “Lovely?”

“I…. ah….” The gestalt leader took a deep breath, then exhaled. “I recall seeing you after… what I realize now were binging sessions.” His optics flicked away shyly. “I…. couldn’t keep my optics off of ya.”

“Really?” Bl/ast Of/f found that hard to believe. While he felt the piercing glares of his comrades those days, he felt his boss grew even more distant and cold. In fact, it just made his guilt about overeating feel worse. “I thought…. I thought it always displeased you….b-because…”

“Because I didn’t know how to communicate properly.” On/slaught shrugged. “Ah, I guess we both need to work on that…I suppose…”

“Yeah….” He wiggled, making himself comfortable on the lap.

“Hey, come here,” The blue mech beckoned. “Come closer.”

“Okay…” Bl/ast Of/f obeyed despite not really knowing what the other wanted. The gap between their helms closed until their foreheads pressed together. Excitement built in his frame, yet the feeling of nervousness lingered. What was happening- and was it what he was thinking it was?  “Um-“

“Stop overthinking everything, Bla/sty.” On/slaught’s helm tilted and moved forward until the gap was closed entirely. A waft of warm breath ghosted over before their lips gently brushed against each other’s.

Their first kiss. It was gentle at first, the touch so delicate as their lips softly pressed together, then gone in an instant. And it felt amazing. There was no other place Bl/ast Of/f would rather be right now. Sitting on his crush's lap with those servos caressing his chub while their helms dipped so close was his version of Cyper/topia. Pri/mus he never wanted this moment to end!

“You like that?” A husky tone asked.

“Hmm-hmmmm”

“Atta boy…” On/slaught cooed before repeating the action. Their lips brushed against each other, this time lasting longer, the leader’s opening to gently suck the other’s lower lip.

Would it be so wrong to deepen this kiss? Bl/ast Of/f mewled, enjoying this kind of attention, yet he greedily desired more. He wanted those servos to roam all over his frame. He wanted that mouth all over his frame. As if having a mind of their own, the shuttle’s hands reached out and explored that broad chest, tracing the plating’s outline and desperately prodding at the seams.

Hearing his boss’s engine rev was encouraging. Bl/ast Of/f flicked his tongue out with a new sense of boldness, swiping it across those lips, only to have it captured in the other’s mouth.

And there was no containing that lusty moan at such an intimate kiss! Just feeling On/slaught’s servo’s grip at his chubby sides as his helm pressed firmly to his, deepening the kiss and setting all his circuits ablaze. The shuttle scooted forward, pressing his frame against his crush's warmth and wrapping his arms around the big, strong leader.

And pretty much rammed his tongue down the other’s throat.

“Ahmmm-“ On/slaught pulled back, causing the shorter mech to whine. “Hold up there, buddy.”

He took too much! Slaggit! Bl/ast Of/f scolded himself for being so needy. Could he not contain himself? Why did he have to be such a demanding, clingy, sparkling?

“Let me guess,” On/slaught chuckled, kissing the other’s helm. “Overthinking again?”

Bl/ast Of/f Sheepishly smiled and nodded his helm. “S-Sorry….”

“You gotta stop beating yourself up like that.” On/slaught motioned for the other to get up, and the shuttle slid off the lap. Once freed from the heavy mech, the Comba/ticon Leader went to move but had to stop. He flexed his legs a bit.

“You okay?”

“I…. ah, just need to let the circulation return to my pedes.” He playfully winked at the shuttle, who covered his lips in embarrassment.

However, a loud and painful grumble erupted from his belly, causing his servos to desperately clutch the bloated midsection. “Ooofff…..”

“Got a tummy ache?”

Bl/ast Of/f winced and nodded his helm.

“Here, allow me to help.” On/slaught scooted himself back on the berth until his back was propped against the wall. He spread his legs and patted his chest. “Come here, my devoted subject. Claim your reward.”

With a sense of giddiness, Bl/ast Of/f stepped forward and crawled onto the berth on all fours—his belly nearly sliding across the mattress as he stalked towards his boss. Once perched over his crush, another kiss was stolen, both sets of engines revving and cooling fans clicking.

But it broke once again, causing the shuttle to whine.

“Turn around and lay your back against my chest.”

Bl/ast Of/f nodded and eagerly obeyed. It felt so cozy to have his frame pressed against such a strong and study one. And Bl/ast Of/f released a sigh when those arms wrapped around his chubby frame and grasped his stuffed tummy. He was receiving a nice belly rub!

Those servos gently rubbed large round circles over that growling belly. The touch was warm and loving, the pressure gently pressing down on the overstretched mesh. Every little quake that rumbled, digits were there to soothe the angry beast. Feeling the touch alone was mesmerizing, but the care and adoration in the rubdown topped it off.

The large circles turned to gentle sweeping of the servo across the rounded ball. The movement was slow, caring, and felt very relaxing. He felt so safe and secure in his boss’s arms- trusting him entirely with touching such a vulnerable part of his frame. Oh, he’d let those hands wonder, claiming whatever they desired.

If the shuttle could melt into his leader’s arms, he totally would!

Even better was feeling the other’s chest press against his back. Each deep breath On/slaught took in pressed nicely against his frame. Even those thighs clamping against his own made him feel so snug and wanted. Bl/ast Of/f couldn’t help but lean his helm back and relax at this sensual body hug.

And when lips began to trail along his neck, the shuttle nearly lost it. Feeling that mouth gently trail along his cabling sent shivers up his struts. Feeling that tongue tickle and lap before denta gently nipped was such a tease!

However, Bl/ast Of/f enjoyed it and even tilted his helm to the side, silently demanding more.

“Enjoying your reward?” On/slaught whispered between mouthing neck cables. His servos groped lovingly at the swelled belly.

“Absolutely!” Bl/ast Of/f needily whined between hiccups. “You…. You make me feel so good…”

“You deserve it, my prized pet.” The blue mech purred, gently patting at the belly. “Nothing but the best for you.”

And with those words, Bl/ast Of/f sighed, relaxing into the sensual touch of the belly rub and the full-body snuggle. Pri/mus he never wanted this feeling to end!

#chubformers #siberat drabbles #chubby belly #belly rubs

[siberat]

silly little thought.

So, Dri/ft been eating well, packing on the pounds. He found the joys of sweets and thanks to his issues with addiction, can’t lay off them. The chomping of chocolates starts off slow, but eventually leads to the classic ‘I’ll have just one more.’ Soon, that one more went straight to his belly.

And hips.

Naturally, once the swords/mech notices, he wonders what Rat/chet thinks? He knows his lover isn’t shallow… but still. He wants to be 100% desirable in the medic’s optics. But Rat/chet has been away for some reason during this weight gain, but is returning soon.

Dri/ft looks at himself in the mirror, and gone is that sleek, speedsters frame, replaced with a rounded paunch that hangs over his hips, complete with droopy love handles, swelled thighs, and when he twists his chubby frame to view his backside, he is treated with such a wide load.

Naturally, Dr/ift gets himself all worked up over it, but decides he has to calm himself down before his lover returns. So he meditates and does some yoga.

Can you just imagine that belly resting on the ground as he does the cobra pose? It’s almost as if a big, fluffy pillow was in front of him.

The bridge pose- can he even lift high enough to get that bubble-but off the ground?

Or how about the downward dog pose? I bet his flabby belly will hit him in the face if he’s not careful.

The virasana- his pede nearly gets lost in that thigh chub flab!

But the T/IC continues on, letting his mind be at rest. He is deep in the baby pose, his round thighs tucked alongside his body, gently pressing into his squishy beach ball-like belly. His arms splayed downward along those meaty thighs. The pose is rather comfy- he feels as if he’s tucked up along a big, soft plushie!

“What a sight to see.”

Dr’ift immediately snaps out of his meditative trance, looks up and discovers Rat/chet returned early, and is staring at his fat aft that is pretty much on display. The chubbed up speed/ster stutters in shock, optics wide as he rolls into a seated position.

However, all his concerns and anxieties quickly leave from his body. Rat/chet has ‘that look’ on his face. Soon, Dr/ift’s cheeks flush as he bites his lips. His fans are ready to click on and his engines rev with the predatory way Rat/chet stalks towards him.

He knows what is in store for him tonight.

Apparently, his lover doesn’t mind his squishy frame- not the way those servo’s go right for that aft and grope.

….. ……

Not even spell checked, so may have errors. Random chub prompt

#Siberat drabbles #chubformers #chubby belly #chubby yoga #Did this to procrastinate lol