You ever think of Pharma fattening up Tarn? Seducing the big, brilliant brute with baked goodies? ❤️💜
I can think of a good scenario of Pharma fattening Tarn up. It starts with Tarn doing his routine visit. However, he comes during Pharma’s dinner, which is late at night. Pharma, never being one to skip creature comforts, had just made himself a nice hot meal to warm his chilled frame. Nothing on Delphi escapes the piercing cold for long.
The delivery of T-cogs is made. But this time, Tarn asks for more- and not just cogs. He eyes the meal- it’s a nice homestyle meal. Meatloaf covered in handmade red sauce. Buttery mashed potatoes. And some crystal green beans.
“Did you make that meal just for me?” Tarn’s deep voice rumbles out in jest. The DJD leader already knows the answer is no. But seeing the furrowed brows on the jet’s face is a hearty appetizer. Does he have the ball bearings to say no?
The plate is set in front of the tank with a grumbling sigh, and Tarn stabs a chunk, lifts his mask up enough for him to taste the food.
And it is delicious, as one should expect for someone as meticulous as to always take the time to follow instructions to a T. The two eat the meal in silence- Pharma on the far side of the room with his back turned to the brute. When the clinking of silverware rings against the dish, signaling the meal is done, Tarn has the nerve to ask for dessert.
There isn’t any, at least this time. Tarn stands up, his large frame looming over the jet’s, and he bellows out that next time, he expects dessert to be served.
‘Great,’ Pharma thinks. Not only does he have to meet his quota, but he must now also prep a meal for his enemy and eat with him.
But what if...
Pharma smirked.
The next few meetings fared the same. No, the Autobot didn’t attempt poisoning him- hell, he was eating the same food. But what if something else could be done to immobilize this beast? Surely, Tarn’s greed could be taken advantage of.
So, the meals became more elaborate. Sweet desserts were served in the form of huge cakes and ener-ice creams. Full-course meals, complete with appetizers, were also served. And Tarn was impressed. At each visit, he came with a rumbling belly from hunger. Each time his pede steps grew louder and louder as his frame grew heavier and heavier. Each meal grew larger in size.
And Tarn cleared his plate. Pharma made sure of it. The jet even played favored music to encourage spending more time to fill that enlarging and demanding belly. Small talk leads to deep conversations about anything and everything if it means the tank keeps eating. Hell, Pharma even sat across from him to partake in the meal properly.
Mind you, he never got a shot of Tarn's face... only that full set of lips that hinted at a scarred face.
But time and time again, this routine continued. And Pharma even took the time to research new recipes, figuring out what Tarn enjoyed the most and trying to do better next time. He always perked up at words of appreciation and enjoyment for the selected foods. Hell, Tarn even brought some nice quality engex to share- which was a pleasant surprise.
And the next time that Decepticon waddled through the door, Pharma always grinned at the way that plating had been loosened. The way that belly swelled outward, gathering in soft, doughy rolls at his sides. Those thighs grew enormous as well as his arms. That belly groaned as those optics scanned the room for the next feast. His engines sounded taxed, and his breathing came out in labored huffs. Mobility sure looked limited and sounded strained as gears creaked and moaned as he plopped himself in front of the table- even before asking for the supply of T-cogs.
The sound of Tarn's rumbling tanks roars through the room. And so does the soft hum of Pharma’s cooling fans.
Turns out, he wasn’t the only one who enjoyed these feasts after all....
