Shorty Fic: Wobbly Roddy
4 December 2018
Rodimus wobbling down the hallways of the Lost Light, everyone wanting to touch his heavy belly. While on shift some bring him snacks and if he's off shift, if he's sitting at Swerve's, it's more than likely there will be snacks and fuel bought for him. He doesn't want to be rude but he get tired so easily now. The newsparks moving and kicking uncomfortably when doesn't eat. He takes what was bought for him back to his quarters.
He meets one of his mates, Ratchet, he rubs his growing belly as he eats, feeds him until his a panting, groaning mess. He can't go anywhere so maybe dessert? He probably would like it but he's already big and his belly is heavy enough as is. But pouring down sweet fuel down his intake to his stuffed tanks fill up the little empty space he had. It's tight, it's hard to breathe.
Everyone on the LL is excited with and for him. Even the crew doesn't get to see him so often due to medical order berthrest. Too heavy to properly walk anywhere, he has pillows behind his back and under his pedes so he could be vaguely comfortable. With his mates, Drift and Ratchet touch and massage and rub all over him. Every bump or dent that's been made, they touch. He gets flustered before he melts completely, surprised that his mates still love him after... losing his form. They tell him he's still their captain and mate and only want him to be happy. Happy or not, he stresses. Plump and immobile and seemingly always hungry don't help that, but his mates try to. They snuggle, get what he wants, maybe a movie too. Drift brings snacks and slowly piles them in his mouth, waiting for him to swallow so they can keep going. Ratchet rubs with tender servos on the bulbous chassis. Again and again, this happens. They stop when they hear their dear Roddy hiccup and massage and caress his overfilled belly. If anyone thought he was carrying triplets or was close to his due date, they'd be wrong. He just got fat.
He's trapt by his girth on his berth. Although Roddy can barely see passed his growth, he can feel Ratchet feeling up his belly, his thighs, valve. He's so just so plush now and warm and wanting! He can't help but beg through half formulated sentences or broken moans. Of course, he wants Ratchet's glossa in his valve but his spike would be better. It'd spread him wide and Ratch could rut into him, then properly use that glossa all over his chassis. It wouuld hot and wet, gliding over his thickened frame. A thick unit slipping inside once he's ready, his fluids beading out. Roddy already knows he's full but the fresh sensation every time more goes within leaves him writhing. Drift knows this, egging him on with Ratchet primed between his legs, knowing that filling him from either end would have him whimpering and mewling in want. When they're done, in his haze, he may try to roll over but it doesn't go as easily as he once could. He's flustered and covered in blush. Drift helps him roll over and cuddles his front, Ratchet pulling a blanket over the two and snuggling up to Roddy's back, resting his servo on widened hips.
He's so heavy before emergence, how he needs both mates to only sit up. Going to medbay is not an option, he's breathless, moaning in a mixture pain and mild pleasure. He's sunken into a bath, water spilling over the sides when he's inside. He's holding his belly, marvelling at the size, with Ratchet between his legs and Drift holding his servo, ready to help.
After the sparklings are born Roddy is shyer about his weight. He is happy and proud to have his two bouncing and racing speed buggies whipping through his HAB, but he doesn't like how his frame's changed. Ratchet said it would go away with time but when would that come? He wasn't thin. He wasn't fast. He was a fat, pear-shapped former Prime who let himself let go of his inhibitions and his means to say no. He wanted to believe that his crew, or his mates, intended for him to feel this way but the little line of thought had morphed into a vent rattling anxious sob. Thankfully, he was in his room while Ratchet and Drift played with the boisterous set.
Rodimus wobbling down the hallways of the Lost Light, everyone wanting to touch his heavy belly. While on shift some bring him snacks and if he's off shift, if he's sitting at Swerve's, it's more than likely there will be snacks and fuel bought for him. He doesn't want to be rude but he get tired so easily now. The newsparks moving and kicking uncomfortably when doesn't eat. He takes what was bought for him back to his quarters.
He meets one of his mates, Ratchet, he rubs his growing belly as he eats, feeds him until his a panting, groaning mess. He can't go anywhere so maybe dessert? He probably would like it but he's already big and his belly is heavy enough as is. But pouring down sweet fuel down his intake to his stuffed tanks fill up the little empty space he had. It's tight, it's hard to breathe.
Everyone on the LL is excited with and for him. Even the crew doesn't get to see him so often due to medical order berthrest. Too heavy to properly walk anywhere, he has pillows behind his back and under his pedes so he could be vaguely comfortable. With his mates, Drift and Ratchet touch and massage and rub all over him. Every bump or dent that's been made, they touch. He gets flustered before he melts completely, surprised that his mates still love him after... losing his form. They tell him he's still their captain and mate and only want him to be happy. Happy or not, he stresses. Plump and immobile and seemingly always hungry don't help that, but his mates try to. They snuggle, get what he wants, maybe a movie too. Drift brings snacks and slowly piles them in his mouth, waiting for him to swallow so they can keep going. Ratchet rubs with tender servos on the bulbous chassis. Again and again, this happens. They stop when they hear their dear Roddy hiccup and massage and caress his overfilled belly. If anyone thought he was carrying triplets or was close to his due date, they'd be wrong. He just got fat.
He's trapt by his girth on his berth. Although Roddy can barely see passed his growth, he can feel Ratchet feeling up his belly, his thighs, valve. He's so just so plush now and warm and wanting! He can't help but beg through half formulated sentences or broken moans. Of course, he wants Ratchet's glossa in his valve but his spike would be better. It'd spread him wide and Ratch could rut into him, then properly use that glossa all over his chassis. It wouuld hot and wet, gliding over his thickened frame. A thick unit slipping inside once he's ready, his fluids beading out. Roddy already knows he's full but the fresh sensation every time more goes within leaves him writhing. Drift knows this, egging him on with Ratchet primed between his legs, knowing that filling him from either end would have him whimpering and mewling in want. When they're done, in his haze, he may try to roll over but it doesn't go as easily as he once could. He's flustered and covered in blush. Drift helps him roll over and cuddles his front, Ratchet pulling a blanket over the two and snuggling up to Roddy's back, resting his servo on widened hips.
He's so heavy before emergence, how he needs both mates to only sit up. Going to medbay is not an option, he's breathless, moaning in a mixture pain and mild pleasure. He's sunken into a bath, water spilling over the sides when he's inside. He's holding his belly, marvelling at the size, with Ratchet between his legs and Drift holding his servo, ready to help.
After the sparklings are born Roddy is shyer about his weight. He is happy and proud to have his two bouncing and racing speed buggies whipping through his HAB, but he doesn't like how his frame's changed. Ratchet said it would go away with time but when would that come? He wasn't thin. He wasn't fast. He was a fat, pear-shapped former Prime who let himself let go of his inhibitions and his means to say no. He wanted to believe that his crew, or his mates, intended for him to feel this way but the little line of thought had morphed into a vent rattling anxious sob. Thankfully, he was in his room while Ratchet and Drift played with the boisterous set.
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