I have no idea what I am doiiiiing but list hopefully under the cut
Dratchet/Driftrod/Dratchrod
I'm a big Dratchet shipper and sometimes I like Roddy thrown in as a treat. Drift is the feeder who ends but a bit chubby cause he can't help it. Roddy is both feeder/feedee, mainly the type who start of claiming to be just a feeder before absolutely blowing up. Ratchet is a chunky mech to start and mainly a feedee with a bit of feeder in him just cause he wants his partners to enjoy themselves too.
Megaop
My main TF ship forever. They also fit into all flavours of feedism to me. Either of them can be feeder/feedee but I do enjoy Op mainly being chunky cause my mans stressed and tired and deserves to be spoiled and spoiling said prime keeps Megs distracted. Also feel like they'd be great for mutual gaining đ¤
TFP BulkJack
Feedee Bulkhead, feeder Wheeljack. Bulkhead needs to be so much bigger and I feel that if Wheeljack gets invested in feeding him less wrecker tomfoolery will happen. Also Bulkhead needs to lay on him, not for crushing reasons just cause I feel like Jackie needs some deep pressure to calm down
TFA BulkProwl/BulkBee/BulkProwlBee
Underrated ships. TFA Bulkhead is such a sweet feedee man. Plump him so much rounder. Prowl is indifferent to the whole thing at first but I'm actually saying feedee, newbie one. He just watches Bulkhead get bigger and softer and gets curious. Bee is an over eager feeder, like he pushes the others above and beyond. He's got a talent for somehow over stuffing even Bulkhead of all mechs
TexAid
I AM NOT IMMUNE TO THE TEXAID PROPAGANDA! Aid is a chubby mech naturally to me. Vortex like. Aid is both a huge feedee and chubby chaser. Vortex, much to his distress, is not getting out of this relationship without a potbelly, feeder or not.
SkyStar
Mild feedism here. Skyfire is a big mech, naturally chubby to help with deep space. Starscream is only feeder because his dumb shuttle forgets to eat and Starscream is too intense to not feed him himself and maybe sometimes goes a bit overboard... And if he's turned on by it he'll deny it.
WaveWave
Shockwave is a beautiful fat mech. From the start. Soundwave is a simp for his beautiful fat wife. Less you traditional feeder/feedee and more fat admirer situation.
G1 CliffBee
Newest one to the list thanks to @anony-man 's latest fic. I didn't know I needed a g1 feeder Bumblebee, but it works so damn well. Bee is a lil chubby himself but I see him being a big chubby chaser/maybe a closeted feedee who just makes Cliffjumper fat as he can so he can see his frametype huge without doing it to himself. But also cause Bee is full of love and wants Cliffjumper to feel it. I don't know how to explain but me like.
So far those are the main ones. Might add more as time goes on!
thinking about mommy kink tfa bulkhead again. i just think it works so well with him because he's always trying to be something that doesn't really require him to be big, if that makes sense. he's a space bridge expert and an artist, both things you wouldn't expect from someone as big and unwieldy as he appears. he finds a refuge in not having to be "the big one" all the time. he'd probably gravitate towards someone who could help him be small for once, someone who could cuddle him and kiss his jaw and talk to him like he's their baby boy and help him forget having to be the team muscle for a while.
Octane was runniong his mouth again, and Sandstorm did what he could to silence him.
CW: chubformers/ cheesy pick-up lines / While not NS/FW hints at adult content at times /public stuffing / some embarassment
**Pick up lines used from this website**
Fill 'er Up
Which was more alluringâthe slim, purple frame with gently fanning wings, or the glorious spread of food behind him? That frame was pristine: freshly buffed and waxed. Fancy foods like these werenât easy to come by, and Sandstorm understood why femmes and mechs approached curiously. Flan with melting cadmium, a heap of mint ener-ice cream, and assorted cakes all had a prestige that pulled bots in.
Too bad no one was biting.
But knowing his experience with Octane, the Autobot couldnât blame the disgruntled mechs hurrying from the table of sweets. Octane was a good mechâonce you overlooked the sleazy old-mech vibes.
Interfacing was good- there was no denying the joys of blowing your circuits. But Primus, Octane always came across as too eager to get his spike wet to the point the âCon could even be called desperate! He wasnât shy to throw out the first move, and being discreet wasnât in his vocabulary. At all.
Sandstorm shook his helm and smirked as a blue-and-yellow femme balked, then shuffled away. Octane threw up his hands, looked forlorn for a second, then scanned the crowd for interest. âGotta hand it to youâyouâve got perseverance.â If Sandstorm got rejected that many times that fast, heâd tuck tail and run.
But Octane continued, his smooth voice working the crowd while not daring to leave his table of delights as if he was an exotic bird displaying gathered treasure to a potential mate ( or any mate, really). Sandstorm didnât know whether to laugh or cry at the sight. He knew how to put on a pathetically good show.
âLooks like I gotta swoop in for the save yet again, buddy.â Sandstorm emptied his glass in one gulp, then slowly strode over to his on-and-off acquaintance. Yes, their paths crossed before. Several times. But their paths never stuck- the morning after always resulted in waking up alone. That flier departed as quickly as he landed.
It was a shame, really. Sandstorm liked Octane. Time together was fun, exciting, but always too short.
Attempts were made for lasting meetings, but Octane was too aloof to stay. He had places to be, mechs to do, and craved changeânot commitment.
But that didnât mean the Autobot was going to throw in the towel. He wasnât a quitter, after all.
âHeeey, good lookinâ,â Octane greeted with a sly smile, optics raking up and down the Autobotâs frame.
Yeah, he had no shame about his intentions either. âStill working the usual crowd, hmmmmm?â
The Cheshire-like smile faltered, but only for a brief second.
âTough crowd tonight, Octane?â Sandstorm grinned, admiring the otherâs lithe, glossy frame as it casually rested against the table. Yeah, this mech worked every angle that he could. Wings gently fanned. Those eyebrows hitched. Those hips twisted in such an alluring way.
âSandy- baby.â He licked his lips. âAre you made of copper and tellurium? Because you are Cu-Te.â
Yeah. Octane was going with the classics tonight. Â Sure, he looked fine as hell. But the words that erupted from his mouth were a hot mess. Perhaps his processor was malfunctioning, and the filter didnât quite remove the cheese.
âAnd just what do we have here...party favors?â The orange mech relaxed his optics as he tore his gaze from the flyer and examined the table.
âSome fine treats. You know, a little of this. A little of that.â Pearly white appeared as Octane stepped forward. âSome pre-game for what is to come... Would ya care for a bite?â
A mix between a snort and a barking laugh spat from Sandstorm's mouth. âPrimus, Octane, you never change!â The question was, did he really want him to? Well, aside from the disappearing act, that is. He cleared his throat, then sat down. âSo, whatâs the special occasion?â A frown hinted. âOther than wanting to get laid.â
âAh, Sandy-baby, donât be like that.â In one quick and smooth motion, the second chair slid over, and Octane parked his aft down. Just inches away from the other. And that servo boldly reached out to roam up his thigh. âWould you like me to fill you up with something nice and creamy?â
That roaming servo was slapped away. He had standards! Well, some at least. âYou know better, you scoundrel. I need to be wined and dined first.â
âYou always make me work, donchya?â Octane playfully rolled his optics. âLuckily, I donât mind getting my hands dirty.â
The Autobotâs only response was the shaking of his helm. He pulled a dish containing flan closer. The Decepticon only had one thing on his mind: feeling good. Slag, who can blame him? Interface felt amazing- especially from one so good in berth as he. Despite the radiating cockiness, Octane was a very attentive lover, always game for anything, and made sure his partners were satisfied. Credits werenât the only thing he preferred âspent.â Â Not that heâd ever tell him that- it would go right to his helm!
Now if only Octane got over the âhit and runâ gig...
The fork easily cut through the firm, gelatin-like substance and carefully traveled to his mouth, jiggling all the way. âMmmmmmmmm....â The taste was perfect! The custard was thicker than pudding, but soft and velvety enough to melt in his mouth. While mildly sweet, the milky caramel flavor took hold. This was top-of-the-line grub! âMust have pulled off a big heist to be able to afford this.â His fork eagerly went back for seconds.
âWell, you know I have my ways of getting around...â
Golly, those eyebrows were going to fly off his face the way that âCon kept wagging them! Yes, there was no denying his enjoyment of his crush's amorosity. And not to shame one who enjoys romps in the berth, Octane was the pure definition of a âDecepti-slut.â He came in fast. He ran hot. And he always finished what he started.
Sandstorms plating flared, and he shivered at that thought.
âIf you like that dish, just wait until I serve the main course.â
Sandstorm swallowed and stared as the flier shifted in his chair, anxiously awaiting the follies to come. (Sandstorm couldnât deny him, not when he wanted him so desperately!) But what if he changed it up? As used to these lame pick-up lines and crude comments he was, couldnât that mech just shut up and enjoy each otherâs company for a moment? Did everything have to allude to what he wanted?
âCome close, baby.â Sandstorm smiled as Octane scooched his chair forward, their thighs nearly touching.
âHave you been out in the sun too long?â
Sandstorm braced himself. There was such a thing as too much...
âBecause youâre looking awfully hot.â
âOctane.â His voice was stern. âYou know I am sitting right here. You know you got me right?â
âGot ya right where I wantcyha...â The purple flyerâs helm tilted slightly to the side. âAlmost. Just a few floors up and a couple of feet-â
The spoonful of flan that Sandstorm was moments away from enjoying was shoved into that âConâs mouth. The flierâs optics briefly widened. Once again, those sultry optics returned as he hummed as he chewed the mouthful, then swallowed.
âTastes almost as good as-â
Another heaping spoonful stifled another lewd comment. Maybe if his mouth was full, Sandstorm would be able to enjoy some quiet time for once! Perhaps he would get the hint.
Every time the babbling mech would open his mouth to warble a cringeworthy line, another mouthful of food would barge in. Every time that face would soften, optics would half-moon in delight, and that husky moan would rumble past his lips as if in the throes of eating....something else. But the shoveling of food was never denied. And Sandstorm never stopped feeding.
Even when that dish of caramelized flan was devoured, the table offered a plethora of options to continue the feast. A nice peanut butter pie was selected, its top slathered in whipped cream and rich chocolate crumbles. The younger mech didnât even bother to cut a slice, just took the entire round treat and stabbed in, balancing a heaping forkful to the otherâs open mouth.
Well, that was a stretch. Words were coming from that mouth before the pie silenced them. But his plan was working, and seeing the enjoyment from the food wash over his wanted-to-be lover was unexpectedly erotic. As lewd as the sounds were, Sandstorm couldnât help but feel his engines amp up over them. That coy but sensual expression as he bit was thoroughly enjoyed, threatening to bring his cooling fans whirling to life. The way those red optics stared at him or how the tip of Octane's tongue ran over plump lips just egged his desire on. Just how much would this dirty old mech eat for him?
There was only one way to find out.
Bite by bite, that decadent pie disappeared- but the enjoyment of it never faltered. Each mouthful was swooned over as if it were the first. Octane squirmed in delight with any bit of attention thrown his way. Hinted smiles. Full body glances. And apparently, spoonfeeding him over and over again was enough to tickle his fancy. Soon enough, that dish was scraped clean.
âOh, look at that! You gobbled that up, no problem.â Sandstorm cooed and set the empty plate back on the table.
âThatâs not the only thing I like to gobble up.â
Those eyebrows wagged annoyingly again as that shit-eating grin widened over his smooth faceplates. So much for his moment of silence! However, there were more foods to silence that mouth of his. With a smirk of his own, the Autobot selected yet another dish.
âI think itâs time to put that mouth of yours to good use.â The dish of green ener-icecream was selected. Drips had started to cascade down its surface, succumbing to the warmer ambient temperature of the room.
âNow thatâs what Iâm talking about!â
A spoonful was held out. Octaneâs joyous expression deadpanned.
âYou canât have dessert unless you finish your meal.â
The flierâs face all but screamed âseriously?â But Sandstorm's face remained firm. Yes, he caved a lot for Octane, but now wasnât the time for giving in. If this geezer wanted a piece of him, he would have to earn it this time.
As if knowing this song and dance- and oddly agreeing with it- Octane sank back into his chair. He cocked a brow ridge, goading the younger mech on. âAlright then, baby-cakes.â His servos roamed over his stomach and playfully slapped at the plating as if he were playing a set of bongos. âI donât mind being topped off.â
That was enough fuel for the fire to make that spoon shove past those lips. Primus, Octane could just be so extra at times! But the lies told didnât suppress that giddy feeling rising with spoon-feeding the other. Why? Sandstrom didnât quite know. But watching as the ice cream slowly disappeared was enticing. Each gulp from the Decepticon made his stomach flutter with joy. And when the pace quickened, each gasp for air after swallowing just jump-started his engines. Feeding did something; it ignited some kind of flame, so to speak.
Surrounding noises became muffled by stomach grumbles and his own pulsing spark. Watching those lips part captivated him. Hearing those servos gently pat at his belly was alluring. While there was no physical contact, the Autobotâs frame felt as if he was riding the aftershocks of a tune-up. His plating flared. Engines idled. His core temp rose.
The routine continued; one dish vanished, another took its place. Cannoliâs loaded with thick, velvety cream disappeared as they crunched between teeth. The older mechâs servos continued to rub at his growing belly. Donuts covered with talc powder or mica sprinkles filled the flyer's mouth only to be washed down by a tall glass of cold enermilk. Â Flab accumulated, pushing against abdominal plating and spilling over his hips.
Despite awkward glances from the snickering crowd, Sandstorm kept feeding with wide, mesmerized optics. Cookies with feldspar flecks. Chocolate-covered crystal strawberries. Warm and gooey cherry pies with pink whipped cream on top. There was so much food, and Octane inhaled whatever was pressed to his lips.
And when the last chunk of the multilayer cake was stabbed into, only then did Octane show signs of succumbing to a food coma. His breaths came in ragged gasps, and those hands now clasped against a swollen ball of a belly. He looked beat, as if just participating in a triathlon.
âDonât tell me ya bit off more than you can chew, Octane.â The thick morsel of cake balanced on the fork.
With a grumbling stomach, the purple flier grinned. âHave no fear, my sweats. You know I can make it fit.â Said belly was gently slapped, resulting in more angry noises erupting.
How was he able to eat so much? That belly now swelled like an overinflated balloon and heavily rested on his lap. Gone was that lithe and sleek abdomen, only to be replaced by pudge. Seeing how that forkful of cake nearly missed its mark, Sandstorm was enjoying the sight before him. That tummy... looked so full... so lavish...so plump. So kissable.
âHelloooo... Sandy-babes...â Octane smacked his lips. âMy optics are up here.â A wide grin appeared. âHard to keep your optics off me, ainât it?â
The last of the cake was shoved in, mainly to save face. He was caught gawking, and the other wouldnât let him live it down. But what was even worse was knowing this....whatever this was had come to an end. All the plates were scraped clean. The joys of feeding ended.
But that belly remained.
And it was a hot, gurgling mess! Though Octane would never admit it, his face strained slightly with each sharp rumble. Ragged breaths of cool air were sucked in as fingers clenched at the bursting seams. Oh, how badly did Sandstorm want to rub his servos all over that rounded mass- press his lips to it, perhaps even nip at it.
Another pained gurgle erupted, and Octane stifled a burp with his hand.
âYou.... ah... that looks uncomfortable...â The Autobot mumbled, biting his lower lip. The joy from his actions was lost to the prospect of causing the other pain. âThat plating looks awfully tight...Do... do you want me to loosen it? Take it off-ââ
A haughty chuckle interrupted. âSo, you wanna get underneath my plating, huh?â
The orange mechâs jaw dropped. âYou scoundrel! I... I just...â
âWanna touch?â Octane didnât wait for a response, just grabbed dark hands and brought them to that belly.
And it felt delightfully firm! Warm. And with each groan, he swore he felt vibrations. But his highly anticipated moment was cut short by the sound of laughing.
Sandstorm looked up and suddenly realized they werenât alone, but rather in the crowded bar. A bunch of faces glanced their way, some hiding laughs behind their servos, others looking away in disgust. His cheeks felt warm, flushed bright red, no doubt. He yanked his hands away, suddenly ashamed of this behavior. And to make matters worse, his engines were rumbling, his cooling fans rattled as they worked to cool off his frame. It was blatantly clear he was turned on.
What a display they must have put on! Here he was, heating up and engines roaring over feeding Octane and ogling that belly. And he had the audacity to criticize the âCon for going after what he wanted? The Autobot sank into his chair, plating drawing close. He could feel the otherâs piercing gaze scorching through his frame.
Did he bring shame upon them both? Would Octane be mad?
Slowly, his optics rose only to see Octane leaning back in his chair, legs spread wide as he made a show of rubbing his hands around the vast circumference of his belly. Primus, no matter his frame shape, he had no qualms about showing off. Â Cat calls were made to anyone close to his vicinity. Wide, mischievous smiles given. Brows wagging like crazy.
Octane loved whatever kind of attention he could get!
Sandstorm stood up, bashfully glancing at the table littered with empty plates. âOctane, letâs go.â
The âCon spun his chair around, giving that all-knowing look. âDid you get your fill, Sandy baby?â His servos patted his swollen paunch. âIs it time I get my fill?â His belly clenched hard enough to make those quirked brows clench.
âLetâs loosen that plating to soothe that angry belly of yours.â Sandstorm bashfully glanced around, then whispered. âIn private.â
âHmmmm.... eager to take my plating off, I see...â That cheesey look returned to his face. âYou just canât wait to get your servos all over me, huh?â
Sandstorm pressed his lips into a firm line. Obviously, the answer was yes! Primus, he wanted to caress that starter belly, feel its firmness, and spend all night tending to its needs. But he was not going to mention that. He just held out his hand, which the âCon took as he hefted his heavier frame out of the chair.
Octane sauntered close to his admirer, that belly pressing against his side. âTime for me to get my dessert, huh?â An arm wrapped around the orange and yellow mech, guiding him towards the stairs to his room, no doubt.
The warmth that radiated from Octaneâs touch made his plating flare. Feeling the warm breath ghost over his neck cables sent shivers down his struts. Smelling the faint hint of leather mixed with polishing wax simply primed his engines!
âYou sure youâre gonna be able to perform with that big olâ belly?â Sandstorm cocked a brow in question.
Wings flapped. Engines revved. A shit-eating grin appeared. Octaneâs servo grabbed his rounded belly and shook. âIâve got enough fuel reserves to go allll night!â His brows wagged with fevered delight. This time, Sandstorm smiled in return.
Pro.wl wasn't a mech who fuelled much, ene.rgon was scarce and the Dece.pticons certainly weren't keen on sharing, in fact they blew the energy on frivolous endeavors and even when used properly some of their own hardly saw any cubes. It was cruel enough to the lower ranking bots for the enforcer to take some pity in.
So he wouldn't fuel, but he hasn't a fool either, he didn't starve himself but rather fuelled only when absolutely necessary, which was honestly just tactical starvation. Even then it was precisely the right amount needed to keep his levels stabilized and his frame functioning, some bots were worried for him and insisted he eat more, he'd dismiss them under the notion he wasn't starving. A technicality that kept other bots from pestering him further.
With all this in mind, Pro.wl was utterly baffled by the decision to use the recent ene.rgon haul to be cooked into snack foods. That fuel could've gone to proper cubes! Or food that was actually filling and nutritious! Instead it was made into candies, crunchy cubes and pastries, all of which looked, smelled and probably tasted incredible, but he was too proud to indulge in any of it. So he agonized over his allies munching away, delighted moans and eager giggles filling the mess hall as the others got a taste of ene.rgon that wasn't plain old rations. He'd anguish in his office clutching his cramping stomach as it wailed for food, he was fed and yet just seeing others eat made him yearn for more.
Even with all the excitement, it didn't take long for others to notice how miserable the black and white enforcer was, due in part to his traitorous tanks, in one particularly embarrassing incident Pro.wl walked into the dining room to speak with In.ferno, only for his neglected tanks to loudly growl for the entire room to hear, all optics were on him and after relaying the information he needed Pro.wl was out of the room in a flash.
"You heard that too, right?" A worried Blu.estreak asks. "I dunno maybe.." Infe.rno responded sarcastically, "he's been hovering around here for a while, I thought he was just pissed at us for blowing the fuel on snacks but..Pr.imus he sounds so hungry." Blu.estreak frowns as he says that, him and Infe.rno notice a new snack item added to the pastry shelf, as soon as they saw what it was tucked in those boxes they turned to each other and grin.
"You thinkin' what i'm thinkin'?"
"Oh yeah.."
The black and white mech did what he normally does when he's upset, work himself to the metallic bone and bark orders at bots. It wasn't a healthy habit he admits. Though as soon as he opens the door he's met with a confusing sight, towers of colorful boxes littered all across his precious workspace! Pro.wl was infuriated, wasting fuel on snacks was one thing but pulling some annoying prank was another! His mood shifts upon seeing the contents of these containers, donuts, generously coated in sugary icing and colorful sprinkles. He drools at the sight, he absolutely loved these but he couldn't! This was at least ten dozen donuts.
Before he could even begin to remove them, his tanks clatter once more, angry and tired of being ignored. He argued with his own body rationalizing that he'd just drink another cube, they weren't having any of it, they clawed at his insides and damn near made the room shake from how much they roared. Pro.wl whimpered, maybe just one wouldn't hurt, and the one he indulged in was amazing, delightfully sweet and warm in his dribbling mouth. Okay, maybe another, or three.
Just like that, he lost himself the fluffy, sugary rings. One by one the boxes were emptied, he even greedily clawed at straw sprinkles at the bottoms, the mesh of his midriff was stretching out and his angry tanks were finally satiated. It didn't take long for a chubby Pro.wl to be on the ground surrounded by empty boxes face covered in crumbs and sprinkles, just one donut in his servo surviving his rampage. Weighed down his obscenely thick stomach he blushes embarrassed at how much he let himself go, though he didn't worry about that long as the sugar crash hit him like a truck, for the first time in a while he went to sleep with a full tank growling out of quiet happiness now.
Later on the culprits of this dastardly plan came to check on him, they both smile and snickered at the sight. Though they were kind enough to clean up empty donut boxes and move poor Pro.wl to his be.rthroom for somewhere less uncomfortable to sleep. He's draped on his slab, tucked in with a blanket and the single donut he clung onto was relocated to another box it became the thirteenth donut in there for Pro.wl to enjoy later. Blu.estreak and Infe.rno were very satisfied with themselves.
this piece was just me playing around with a few things. I used a new brush to ink and tried a few things out with coloring. Not to mention drawing human after drawing robots is so challenging- female no less.
anyways, random art for @anony-man inspired by their catwoman story found here.
Their morning was already starting off stressful, but Charlie had put in the time to take off for work early and head to the local bakery for a couple dozen donuts to bring in with him. It was the new routine he adopted every Friday morning when he could, and while Fridays always, without fail, ended up to be the busiest, the longest, and the most exhausting of the entire week, sacrificing a few extra minutes of beauty sleep to take the detour through town for something to treat his family with was always worth it.
Except for today, because Charlie had caught himself running his mouth far too long and sharing far too much with his oddly silent partner who carried him around in the front driverâs seat, and only once they had made it to the base and Charlie was stepping out of Chaseâs vehicle mode with the boxes of donuts in hand did he realize his mistake. Rather than follow him behind and head off to find the rest of the Cybertronian crew while Charlie greeted his children in the break room, he was caught by the shoulder and veered off towards his office⌠and Chase wasnât letting him put up any protests about it.
It was on him, Charlie reasoned. He had caught himself more than once droning on to Chase about the long days in the office and the short breaks he and the kids got for proper food lately, what with the city finding itself in constant trouble and silly turmoil. It always ended with a long sigh and a hand running down his face as he groaned about âjust being extra hungryâ and ânot getting enough sleep these days,â but Chase had never outright said anything about it. Chase simply listened. He didnât fully understand, but he listened, and Charlie was grateful for it.
He wasnât so grateful now as he realized that his constant complaints and obvious struggles were being taken seriously by Chase, who clearly had it in his head to fix them himself. He was ushered into his office with the donut boxes still in hand while Chase gently shut the door behind them before leading Charlie over to the desk chair across the room. Charlie tried to protest, but Chase wasnât budging. He didnât speak until Charlie was sat down with the two donut boxes spread out on the desk in front of him, and even then, Chaseâs words were short and to the point.
âIâve asked that Cody take up the role of donut retriever this Friday,â he explained carefully as he pushed open the lid to the first box and peered inside. âKade has agreed to help him. Heatwave will be bringing them both back here shortly.â
âDonut retriever?â Charlie echoed, his brows raised in surprise and confusion as he watched Chase pick out a chocolate frosted donut from the first box. âBut Iâheâs not⌠Chase, Iâve alreadyââ
âYes,â Chase cut in, âyouâve gotten donuts. Donuts for yourself.â
He held up the donut for Charlie to take, waiting just a few seconds before pushing it closer and forcing Charlie to take a bite. His faceplates were fixed in a stern stare, his optics steady, as he watched Charlie blush and open his mouth.
âMmph,â Charlie mumbled around the bite, chewing fast so that he could protest again. Before Chase pushed for him to eat more, he managed to say, âwho says? Iâm the parent here, Chase. You know that!â
âI said so,â Chase said without hesitation. He gestured again with the servo holding a donut before practically forcing it into Charlieâs mouth. âNow eat, Charlie. Work starts in an hour.â
The sudden pushiness and demand for Charlie to stop and take a break for something heâd never done before was a little startling. Charlie wasnât sure where the thought had come from, let alone what he had said or how much heâd said pushed Chase towards the decision to feed him donuts, but he had an idea.
All of the stress theyâd undergone together, struggling with the most of the burden as the head of the team and as the father of the kids and the leader of the Cybertronian group⌠Charlie had already shown his appreciation for Chase by giving the mech a mandated day off with a car wash, a detailing session, and an entire afternoon to do as he pleased and relax as much as he liked. Chase, he supposed, was merely returning the favorâa little differently than Charlie would have preferred, and a little unorthodox in his approach, but it worked.
Until⌠Chase grabbed another donut for him to eat. Then another. Then anotherâ
âMmâmmm!â Charlie hummed loudly around the mouthful of donut Chase had just stuffed into his face, struggling to get the words out as he frantically chewed and waved his arms around. âMmââ he swallowed, grimaced at the pain of a massive bite going down his throat, then gasped and leaned back in his chair as he watched helplessly while Chase began picking out the next one. âChase⌠please. Thatâs enough. You donâtâyou donât need toââ
âYouâve been tired lately, Charlie,â Chase cut in again as expected, his optics softening ever so slightly as he watched Charlie pant for breath. âHungry. Running without breaks. Running yourself ragged. Iâm no human, but even I know that we Cybertronians need downtime.â He nodded to his frame, still sparkling and shiny from the polish Charlie had personally performed. âYouâve treated me to a break. Let me treat you to one now.â
âRight,â Charlie wheezed, slumping back in his chair as his belly pressed painfully against his shirt, âbut Chase, Iââ
Again, he couldnât finish his sentence. Another half of a donut was shoveled into his mouth, this one powdery and full of sweet raspberry jelly. He groaned as he chewed, the pressure in his stuffed belly becoming painful as it dug into his pants.
As if anticipating his struggles, Chase reached down and undid Charlieâs buttons with deft fingers, undoing the fly of his pants and pulling free his shirt to make room for the swell of his belly. Charlie groaned again, louder, as the relief mixed with the shame of being seen in such a compromising position, but Chase was already back to feeding him the other half of the donut before he could get so far as protesting with his words.
He was half a dozen donuts in before long, then nearing half a dozen more after less than ten minutes of Chaseâs insistent stuffing and steady servos. His belly, feeling rock hard and protruding far over the waistband of his pants, gurgling audibly and rumbled as his stomach struggled to digest the massive influx of food.
He was breathing hard now, his hands curled into fists as he hung his arms over the back of the chair. His belly took up every last bit of free space it could, but even then, it pressed against the upper half of his still buttoned shirt. Chase kept feeding him, though, until he was onto his twelfth donut, then swallowing the first bite of the second dozen.
âChase,â he groaned, his head held up by the back of his chair and his body slumped down as far as it could go. âChase, please⌠thatâs enough. I donât think⌠I donât think I can handle any more.â
Chase seemed to consider him for a moment, his servo hovering over the second donut in the second box, and paused in his feeding. Then, he sighed, scooted forward on the floor where he knelt below Charlie, and moved on from stuffing his human partner full of food to gently coaxing his belly into digesting the amount that was already stuffed inside of it.
âOhhhâŚâ Charlie groaned louder, his body melting under Chaseâs massive servos and gentle touch. âGod, Chase. God, youâŚâ
His words faded into a string of soft, pleased sounds and contented sighs as Chase worked, his fingers kneading the taut skin and soothing the burbling in Charlieâs belly. He reached one servo back into the box of donuts after a time, his other servo still working to ease Charlieâs belly, and lifted it up for Charlie to take.
They were close now. If Charlie could eat a dozen in one go, he could take a dozen more.
âNo,â Charlie moaned at first, shaking his head slowly to avoid upsetting his belly. âNo, no. I⌠I canât.â
âHm,â Chase grunted in return, a small, amused smirk twisting his face. âAnd here youâre always complaining on the job about how hungry you are, no matter how many snacks I try to sneak you between shifts.â
Charlie opened his eyes a crack then, scowling at the soft laughter and amusement etched onto Chaseâs faceplates. âYou littleââ
He was cut off by another donut stuffed into his mouthâthis one soft, fluffy, and glazed, his favorite. Chase laughed louder as Charlie grumpily chewed, settling his second servo back atop Charlieâs belly until Charlie was ready for the next.
âMy assumption was incorrect,â he said after Charlie had swallowed. âIâd assumed that eating a heavy breakfast would make you more amiable for the rest of the day. Maybe I was wrong.â
This time, there was no response. When Chase reached for the next donut, Charlie accepted it with a put-on pout and a quiet sigh, but ate it without complaint.
He ate slowly after that, struggling with every bite and groaning after every donut he finished. Chase was gentle in his belly rubbing, easy in his feeding, but stayed steady, not stopping until theyâd reached the last one in the box. By the time Charlie was finished, his belly had ballooned outward into a comically round shape, and its size was triple anything it had ever been before, even during his dad bod phase.
Chase stared at it for a while, pleased with his work. Finally, Charlie was silent, save for the little sounds of relief and pain he gave whenever Chase pressed too hard on his full belly. He looked good like this. Better than he looked stressed at least, and that was a great accomplishment.
Silently, Chase decided to make this a frequent occurrence. Maybe monthly, if not more often. He knew very well that Charlie could use it⌠and with Charlie looking so good with his belly sticking out and his face stuck in a mixture of bliss and pain, it wasnât something Chase ever wanted to forget.
Tfa Bumblebee is usually seen as a feeder but what's your opinion on feedee bumblebee? He IS the type of laze around and eat endlessly while playing videogames in my mind
Games and Treats
Drabble based on the prompt of video games and eating. Hope you dont mind blitzbee! nd sorry for how long this took me!
CW: Chubfic, blitzbee
What better way to spend an evening than to relax in front of a wide-screen holovid, deeply immersed in the hype of a brand-new video game? The thrill of the flashing screen. The blaring of the sound effects. The excitement of exploring darkened mazes, crawling with gruesome monsters that easily met their demise by a rainstorm of bullets.
Not to mention the servo that kept rubbing his belly.
His gamer's chair was simply the best. Big, cozy, and warm. A mechâs lap was always the comfiest to lazily lounge. And this chair was equipped with all the extra features. Engines rumbled, vibrating against his back in time with the action on the screen, and warm air wafted over his frame, adding to the suspenseful atmosphere of the game. But those werenât the best features.
The best perk was that this chair was self-feeding.
Every so often, small ener-chocolate balls met his lips, eager to be devoured. Rich, creamy milk chocolate, with hints of caramel, cherries, or peanut butter, filled his mouth. The treats were delightful. Delectable. Devoured.
âEnjoying your treats, little bug?â A soft voice cooed as the rounded belly was gently squeezed.
âAHhhh...â Bee yelped as his belly rumbled. âCareful, Icy! Be gentle after that feast you gave me.â By feast, he meant huge bowls of thick, creamy lithium mac and cheese, crunchy fried cyberchicken, and a mountain of sweet, smoky baked ener-beans. Bee had several plates...and still had room for dessert.
âYou Autobots are so veak.â Said servo released its grip only to gently pat the taunt, rounded mass that spilled upon thickened thighs. âDo you vish me to stop with ze desserts?â
Bee snorted. âYou better not, ya geezer!â
âWho you calling geezer, whelp?â Another ball of gooey goodness was shoved in, silencing the playful banter. And another rev of the taller mechâs engines vibrated, tickling along the yellow mechâs back struts.
âHmmmmmmmmm....â Bee hummed, both from the taste of the treat and the sensation that buzzed through his frame.
âGood, ja?â Blitzwing grinned. âEnjoying yourself, I zee...â
âDefinitely!â The âBot snuggled himself back. âWhat a perfect evening.â
Who would have thought draping across a Decepticonâs lap could be so relaxingâespecially Blitzwingâs? Here was a big, bad âCon, famed for wartime violence, yet not a hint of harm touched his frame. The feared battlefield mech now caressed him with care.
Was it odd that Bumblebee found such affection from a fearsome mech so comforting? He felt safe, protected, and cherished. The constant flow of food and gentle touches helped. With a sweet tooth, Bumblebee knew Blitzwing understood exactly how to catch his attention.
``` ``` ```
âGet back, you vile âCon!â Bee spat, widening his stance as he readied his blaster. For weeks, he went about his rounds, scouting for lingering danger that, until right now, had never shown.
Blitzwing stood tall, his servos gently brought up. Empty servos. As in, no gun. Icy fronted, remaining calm. âZe var is over. I come in peace-â
âLike you know that word!â The blaster whirled, emitting a faint glow as it charged up.
âThink, little bug,â the Decepticon said. âYouâve crossed zis barren land for two veeks straight, same time. If I vanted to harm you, I would have by now. Trust me, Iâve had chances.â He pulled a small box from his subspace, filled with colorful treats. âVant something sveet?â
Primus, those were energon candies- a rare delicacy back at Autobot base. His mouth watered just looking at the pretty pastel colors. His belly grumbled. Despite his hearty breakfast, his frame still craved more! And when a light pink candy with bright blue decorative icing held out, Bee had to steel his nerves not to snatch it. âI ain't gonna fall for the oldest trick in the book! You probably poisoned them!â
Icy tisked and shook his helm. âYou âBots always think ze absolute worst of mechs.â
âGee, I wonder why!â A scowl formed, yet optics stared at the said treat as Bitzwing lifted it to his mouth and bit  it in half. Now, Beeâs optics shot wide open in desire. Light green goo erupted from the treat's center. âIs that....â
âLiquidized cadmium.â Icy hummed as he licked the sticky substance off his lips. He held out the rest of the treat. âZee? Itâs safe.â
Bee hesitated, despite his frame craving that morsel of delightful goodness. Â His belly clenched like the suctioning pull of a vacuum. Upon relaxing, a loud, demanding grumble roared. And just like the rest of his Autobot comrades, Icyâs optics raked down his frame, smirking at the appearance of his bulging abdominal plating.
Primus, why was everyone making such a big deal about his weight? His stance shifted, arms lowering to cover his belly.
Icy immediately frowned. âHmmm....little bug, donât be like zat.â
âLike what?â
âDonât be shy.â The half-eaten candy was held out. âI know you vant zis...â
His belly answered in the form of a drawn-out whine. Slag. He did want those treats! They looked ever so scrumptious. But Optimus had warned him about taking candy from strangers...
But when that intense sugary taste pressed against his lips and sent shivers down his spine, Bumblebee couldnât help but open his mouth and accept the gift.
``` ``` Â ````
Taking candy from strangers sure paid off that time! That box of chocolates was devoured... and every following day. Blitzwing brought such tasty snacks every visit. And each visitâs timeframe grew, just like his belly.
There was no talk of politics. Bee revealed nothing about government reform, and Blitzwing never asked. Their boundaries were set and respected. Their meetings were pure enjoyment, never about past factions.
Bee just wanted to taste all those delicacies. And Icy just wanted to dotingly feed.
Now, the duo retreated to a little hideaway in neutral territory. While they may not have been able to meet up as often as each would like, the time spent here was peaceful. Relaxing. A nice break to simply enjoy the finer things in life that post-war rebuilding took away. Like long evenings of gaming and nights full of delicious, fulfilling treats- all hand-fed to him, of course.
âIâm parched...â Bee announced, feverishly working his control as he battled the levelâs boss. âWhatcya got to drink?â He didnât even need to take his optics off the screen because a straw was brought to his lips, and the glassâs cool, fizzy liquid was guzzled down.
And thanks to the carbonation, his belly churned as a bubbly sensation rose in his piping. His belly swelled as pressure built, slowly rising up his pipes.
âBllooooorrrrrrgggghhhhhhh!â
âMercy!â Icy chuckled, jiggling that belly with both hands. âExcuse you, little piggy.â
âYouâre the one who fed it to me!â
âYou swallowed on your own accord.â The jiggling became gentle pats as Icy used both hands, coaxing more trapped air from Beeâs tummy, almost like burping a baby. A chorus of belches joined the cries of the now-defeated boss. âDid you enjoy?â
âNever said I didnât. Did ya see how I conquered that badie?â
âOh, I quiver in my plating, little mech.â His chuckle was playful. âVould you like a prize?â
âYeah, can I?â Bee shook his frame in payback, but the sensation of something moist and soft pressing to his mouth stilled that wiggling.
âHave a taste.â Icy filled that gaping mouth with a double-feldspar brownie, topped with crushed geodes. âI baked zese specially for you.â
And did these fluffy squares taste spectacular! Who knew Blitzwing could bake? The brownieâs top had a nice crunch, but the inside was delightfully soft and chewy. The cocoa taste was intoxicating, and the feldspar added just the right amount of pizazz to spark his taste receptors.
âOh, Bee.....â Icy gasped. âYour game!â
âFrag the game!â Bee clacked his teeth together, announcing his mouth needed refilling. âI need more of that in my belly.â
âPatience is a virtue,â Icy beamed, but eagerly filled that mouth. âDid I do vell?â
âHmmmmmm Hmmmmmm!â The yellow and black mech all but moaned. Â His pedes swayed in pure bliss as he wiggled in his seat.
The âCon enjoyed the joyful signs of glee, revving his engines in return. This was his dessert! Each swallow was chased by more brownie. And after each mouthful, that servo went to claim its prize: a rounded, stuffed belly that gurgled with gluttony.
âOh, I could spend ze rest of my life just hand-feeding you such gourmet treats and tending to your tummyâs every need. You know that?â
When one square disappeared, another took its place. The exquisite taste never grew old, just continued to flourish with culinary wonder. The cakey treat was just the right mixture of softness and crunch. Just enough sweetness to richness. Just enough satisfaction to fullness.
âIf you keep baking like this, itâll be hard to resist!â
âVhy deny yourself ze pleasures you want, hmmm? Icy whispered as his servos thoroughly explored the bloated paunch. First, they circled over the crest, moving as the circumference widened to encompass the expanding mass. When the pudge sides were reached, fingers lovingly pinched into the flabby rolls. Bee squealed, the controller from the now forgotten game dropped on the floor.
âGah- that tickles....!â
âI know,â Icy smirked as his fingers relinquished their hold within the protomesh folds. One servo remained, gently groping the belly. âVhy donât you?â
âW...Why donât I what?â Bee knew where this conversation was going and knew it was only a matter of time before the topic was officially breached.
âCome back with me?â
âI...ah.... my team needs me...â
âYou embarrassed to be vith me?â The âCon frowned.
â...â Talk about a trick question. âYou are still on a wanted list, Blitzwing! Â And...ah....â
âAnd vhat, little bug?â
Primus, Icyâs tone was soft and hinted at sadness! âLook, itâs not you- well, aside from still on the wanted list. But... well, while my buddies have the best of intentions, I just donât feel like getting âthe talkâ again.â
âZhe talk?â
âYeah!â Bee huffed, crossing his arms across his chassis. âLook, I know Iâm young...â Blitzwing questioningly hummed. âThey treat me as if I cannot make decisions for myself. Iâm not a sparkling, you know!â
âHmmmm.... kinda like how zey tried talking you into dieting?â Bee nodded. âAnd vhen that didnât vork, zey put you on patrol?â
âCan you imagine the field day they would have if I ran off with you?â
With a pensive face, Icy nodded. âCan you imagine zhe field day I vould have if you ran off vith me? I vould have to become a full-time chef!â The âCon made such a show of lifting a rounded candy to his own mouth.
âHey! Those are my treats!â The Autobot whined as he squirmed upon the otherâs lap. He still had room left in his tanks.
âIs it now?â Icy cooed, lips raising in a smirk. âVhy donât you come and get it zen?â The chocolate ball was sucked into his mouth.
And Bee had no choice but to retrieve that little treasure. And as their lips pressed together- the sensation soft and gliding- the yellow and black mech realized something. This was their first kiss! The treat was bitten in half to give each a taste of the rich, cocoa flavor, only to be bombarded with the gooey liquid-filled center as it erupted across their lips. Bee didnât know what tasted better- the treat, or the kiss!
âSo,â Blitzwing whispered with half-lidded optics. âIf I get off zhe vanted list...would that change things?â
âWould def make things easier...â Bee responded in a blissful daze, optics locked onto the dimmed red ones.
âGood... good...â Icy coed as he smiled. Then dipped his helm into lick that gooey mesh off the otherâs sweetened lips.
Sound.wave looooves his burritosâŚ. But they donât always agree with his tanks. You know what they say about beans being the magical fruitâŚ
Enjoy our beloved tale deck as he makes his dash for the toilet to relieve himself. Gift art for @cherenkovafterdark
How would Hive-universe Bulkhead feel if he was offered the chance to have a fully restored and functional gestation tank that could support a viable carrying cycle?
I can only imagine how thrilled Bumblebee and Prowl (who I assume have gone through carrying cycles of their own by that point in the universe of this fic) would be that Bulkhead finally gets a chance to experience carrying sparkling/s with his two conjunxes after he suffered through so many miscarriages all alone in secrecy. Just imagine how cute it would be for a slightly older Pillbug to rest his helm on Bulkhead's baby bump, and get the chance to tell his sire and his baby sibling about school, or a cool ninja trick that Prowl taught them, or maybe his friends. Maybe the bitlet that Prowl carried (who I've never seen been named đ) starts learning to read, and practices his glyphs by reading to their unborn little sibling.
Fluff aside, I love how you portrayed both the grief and joy he feels towards Bumblebee and their kid Pillbug in your fic. He was so close to becoming a carrier himself to his and Bumblebee's sparkling â only to have that experience ripped away from him by his own frame working against him. It's really sad how corrupt the Autobots are. They took away his choice to carry a sparkling of his own just because they found his distant Decepticon heritage undesirable in their vision for Cybertron. It's really touching and emotional đ˘.
Aw thank you! Tbh the idea of Hive Bulkhead being able to carry has been a little au I've thought about. But in canon after Prowl and Bee's sparkling, the one I've forgotten to name on here, Hornet is born Prowl mentions how nice Bulkhead is going to look on his turn since both Bee and Bulk forgets to tell him Bulkhead can't carry u.u Prowl gets the idea tho to use their cables to link up so Prowl and Bee can send Bulkhead the feelings of carrying they went through, it's not the same but being able to feel it through his conjunxes does help heal something in Bulkhead qwq
Unfortunately within canon between the ruined carrier code he got from Powerdrag and just Tiller's families own gestation tank issues it's too complicated without risking Bulkhead's functionality.
I will say at least all his sparklings, Pillbug and the two much younger ones Bee and Prowl carry together, will be able to carry and he cries when learning Pillbug much much later is cleared to carry his own sparklings qwq
(I apologize for getting so carried away with this ask. I wish anonymous asks allowed for a 'read more', but then I would have to use my screen name. *Sigh* hope this isn't too freaky for you!)
I'm going to somehow telepathically send you the mental image of Prowl and Bumblebee having a little one-on-one stuffing session together while Bulkhead's off repairing space bridges far away in another part of the galaxy. Bumblebee prepares (well, mostly prepares - something tells me that he bought the bread from a bakery and then heated it up shortly before he served Prowl his meal) him a spread primarily consisting of warm, comfortable Indian food. Everything that Bumblebee made was cooked with both lots of love and a ton of plant-based ingredients (cuz Prowl just strikes me as someone who prefers plant based food), which was a concept that was an absolute doozy for Bumblebee to try to wrap his helm around.
Prowl is all too pleased to chow down on some nice thick coconut cream chickpea curry with fragrant jasmine rice, lots and lots of soft fluffy garlic naan, a side salad that's slathered in green chutney, and finally, some homemade donuts topped with granulated sugar. He starts his meal off with a nice generous portion of curry, a piece of naan, and his salad, and begins to fuel. He starts off slowly by eating his salad, but his attention is quickly taken over by the big ol bowl of curry waiting for him. While he'd never admit it, the ninjabot gets almost giddy by the time he gets to his main course. Bumblebee watches lovingly as Prowl eagerly tears off a piece of naan, and quickly scoops up the fuel into his mouth - and ends up being treated to the sweet soft sounds of Prowl moaning as he savors the flavorful feast on his tongue.
Soon enough, to Bumblebee's delight, Prowl begins to demolish the curry - shoveling mouthfuls upon mouthfuls of bread, curry, and rice into his intake with vigor. Bumblebee tunes his audials to make sure he catches each and every moan and sigh that escapes Prowl's lips as he gorges himself. While he'd never admit it out loud, Bumblebee starts to get tight around his panels when he catches Prowl stifling just the cutest little burp he's ever heard.
Before Prowl knew it, he was already reaching over his comfortable, content, full belly to make himself another bowl. By that point, he'd already burned through all of the naan, and was about halfway through the pot of curry. Bumblebee was starting to think his ninjabot wouldn't even bother to save his tanks enough space for dessert. Still, the only thing Bumblebee did was simply hand him a spoon, and watch Prowl dig in.
By the time Prowl was finished with his main course, his fuel tanks were beginning to hit full capacity. Bumblebee found himself stunned at just how much food Prowl's paunch could fit. The minibot found his blue optics magnetized to how the plating that typically kept his conjunx's belly safe from prying eyes was beginning to strain under the pressure of holding back the full extent of what was shaping up to be an enormous food baby. Bumblebee didn't even notice Prowl asking to be fed his dessert until the mech tried to clear his throat - only to end up swallowing enough air that he ended up getting interrupted by a nice big burp.
When Prowl's tanks finally hit maximum capacity, he was almost completely finished with his meal. When he received the ping on his HUD, the mech was completely beached. His belly felt so big, tight, and heavy with all the nice rich fuel he crammed into it, and if Bumblebee leaned the side of his helm against the just the right spot, you could hear how hard his tanks were working to churn and process all that fuel! Still, Prowl wanted to see this stuffing through. He wanted to break his own personal record of just how stuffed he could get. Luckily for him, there were only two doughnuts left. So, he gave Bumblebee one of the donuts, and then he asked for Bumblebee to handfeed him the last one.
As it turned out, that last donut was the final straw for Prowl's abdominal plating. Once Prowl had swallowed that donut down his intake, it had only taken the slightest of pressure on the seams of his sides for the plating to go flying across the floor - skidding to a stop on the concrete. With a big 'OOMPH', Prowl's big tight belly popped out and settled on his lap - with the peak of his tummy stretched out almost to where his thighs met his knees! Prowl could only gingerly smile and give the surface of his tummy gentle little pets when Bumblebee saw how big and tight his belly really was.
In the end, Bulkhead comes home from his trip to find that thanks to Bumblebee, their beloved cyberninja had almost ballooned up to twice the weight he was when he left. It makes for quite the glorious reunion!
Woof Anon! You are cooking with this, pun intended lol. Honestly all are very valid since I do agree with Prowl loving Indian food and plant based food more!
Hell my human formers version of him is Indian/African American and honestly see him as preferring plant based foods too lol
Bulkhead is gonna be so happy when he gets home- and wanting to witness it again himself too đ
