Fic: My Alien Baby

[camfield]

Prompt - http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=10300382&#t10300382

or

So...I have a huge thing for human women knocked up with alien babies.

That's really all I want - continuity, characters, whether it's some sort of breeding experiment or if Random Lady A just sexed up a robot and found herself pregnant by magic, it's all up to you.

My only other requests are no mpreg (not my thing) and no death by childbirth - I don't mind if it's painful, but don't kill the woman at the end please.

Super Extra Bonus Points if:

- the pregnancy progresses really fast - the women comes to full term in weeks, days, hours, etc.
- really, really big bellies
- a birthing scene

Don't hate me because I'm weird!

.

Carly was lying on their bed, reading what Spike called a terrible excuse of literary application, when her husband slipped in the door.  She acknowledged him with an absent wave, not looking up until she heard a second set of feet enter before the door closed.  They had human friends among the Autobots, sure, but not ones that were bedroom friendly.  She wouldn’t trust Raoul within a scant 5 feet when alone, and Chip was nice and all, but she led an athletic bedroom life, one that she wasn’t interested in hanging up just so ‘Wheels’ could get his jollies on.

Well, that and she was married.  Commitment and fidelity and all that.

Still, with a second set of feet came a whole new person, so Carly looked up to see who’d been brought back to their home away from home.

And gaped.

Because standing in front of her, wearing identical shit eating grins, were two Spikes.

Standing up, her amazement overpowering her embarrassment at wearing only a sheer negligée, Carly circled her ‘husbands’, examining them from every angle until she finally stood in front of them, hands on her waist.

“Alright.  What’s going on and which of you is really my idiot husband.”

The two just shrugged, twin grins still in place.

“Why don’t you-”

“-find out for yourself.”

In a flash they were both holding her, one from the front and the other from the back, their hands running over her skin in that familiar,  confident manner that had her blood boiling.  Whoever Spike had brought home, it had to have been an Autobot, who else on board could create an actual facsimile of a human body, came complete with idiotic quirks and mannerisms, and those wonderful hands that were always in the right place at the right time.

Two sets of hands, touching, ghosting pressure over her covered nipples, stroking and kneading her behind, one extremely bold hand even cupping between her legs, grinding the heel down in a move so SPIKE she nearly slugged him in the face right there.  They were pulling off her negligée, kisses covering her skin in wet spots as they moved to the bed, supporting her between them, drawing her hands over her head to kiss the soft skin on the underside of her arms, tickling with identical stubble that Carly insisted was shaved off each and every morning.  Their kisses placed in the same spot, front and back, from collarbone and shoulder blade, sternum and spine, as she quivered in the middle.

Soft tongue strokes moved over the heavy flesh of her breasts, licking always just shy of the tightened nipple until she grabbed the offending head and moved it where she wanted it to go.  Laughter bloomed around her as both Spikes acquiesced to her direct unspoken order for more contact.

Moans and breathy noises rang through the air as they worked her like a finely tuned instrument.  One hand from behind rubbing circles in her perineum as one from the front slid first one finger, then two, into her.  Gently stretching and scissoring, adding a third finger and easing it in carefully, so carefully.  A mouth was still latched to one breast, suckling hard, then softly, tongue flicking the nub intermittently, teeth grazing over the flesh with infinite tenderness as they drove her higher and higher.

The body in front of her trailed his second hand down her side, smoothing it over her waist, the curve of her hip and thigh, to slide inward.  Fingertips just grazing the skin as they rose back up the inner thigh, past his other hand and traced the pelvic triangle.  Thumb running through curly hair to press down on the clitoris as he added a fourth finger to those already pressing inside.

Carly arched, her head hitting the shoulder behind her as she cried out in curses and praise, all in the same breath.  She knew the two were naked, that had happened at some point during this escapade, and her body was limp for the moment as strong arms lifted her, positioning her right over their cocks.  Lowering her slowly, so slowly, hands spreading her, holding the stiff members still and together and petting her, praising her as she felt the burn that came with such a stretch of flesh.

Her legs were spread wide to accommodate the two males beneath her, and her head rested still on the shoulder behind her, panting and breathless as she was filled to the brim.   Each of them had one of her hands clasped in theirs and she squeezed mercilessly as she was finally lowered all the way to their laps.  At first it was an awkward rhythm, the two seeming to be as overwhelmed with the sensations as she was, but eventually they set into alternating thrusts, long and deep against her taut skin.

A second orgasm built up in a fire that burned deep in her belly, pleasure rushing in waves from point after point on her body until it coalesced in a throaty cry that shook her down to her bones and exploded outward in an outpouring of fluid from where they were joined.  The thrusts picked up and one after she felt a gush of fluid spatter within her, the viscous ejaculate sliding down to pool on the bed in a mess of milky white and vivid purple.

They braced against each other, catching their breath, before detangling and laying on the bed, Carly still wrapped between her twin husbands.  The one behind her kissed her neck, murmuring a soft endearment in her ear.  The one curled up against her front gave a grin, his eyes flashing Autobot blue before closing, breathing evening out into a form of sleep.

Carly debated on actually getting up and shooting the two men, well, one man and one large metal being, before resolving to punch someone in the morning, when she didn’t feel like she’d fall asleep in the middle of it.

“Carly!  Calm down!”

Carly waddled back and forth across the room, her face twisted into a snarl.

“I mean, look on the bright side! You-“

She whirled on him, index finger jabbing his collarbone with enough force to make him wince.

“Bright side!  Right.  The fact that because you’re a sexual deviant, now I have to endure my stomach turning into a sheet of rubber.  Thank GOD for Cybertronian medical technology, because I already have stretch marks on my stretch marks, and if I’d had to deal with this mess without that magic crème ala ‘Alien’ style exploding stomach I’d be about ready to kill someone!”

The look traded between Spike and a hiding Bumblebee was near terrified in nature.

She hauled her body around and looked for the cowering yellow Minibot responsible for her current state. 

“Bumblebee!  I swear to all you find holy that I WILL call Ratchet and your Prime out here if you don’t come pick me up this instant!”

The beetle slunk out, giving Spike a pleading look before hesitantly offering his hands to the pregnant woman.  She grabbed a finger and sat, as primly and daintily as someone currently 50lbs distended could, and pointed to what little space was left.  Spike walked cautiously over and sat down beside her, keeping as little contact as possible with his volatile wife.

The ride to the medbay for Carly’s check-up was silent, awkward, and terrifying.  Like a cold bath mixed with a chopped off couple of toes, and even the hallways were strangely absent of anyone else.

Or perhaps not so strangely.  Carly scared pretty much everyone right now. 

They reached Ratchet’s domain in what had become record time and Bumblebee carefully deposited Carly on one of the examining berths, Spike settling beside her and hunching into himself lest she decide to hit him again.

Ratchet moved out, the smile on his face telling all of them that he was quite enjoying the whole debacle.  His polite nod to Carly was a respectful formality, seeing as she had gone toe to pede with him when she’d first come to see him and, while not winning the argument, had certainly gained his respect because of it.

“How are you feeling today Carly?”

She snorted at him and whipped off her shirt and pants, standing in her panties while he ran scan after scan on her rapidly growing body.

“I’m twice my normal size, swollen, balloon like, whale-esque!  I’ve been pregnant a fucking WEEK and look like I’m having a basketball team’s litter.  I’m doing absolutely PEACHY.  Even planning on doing the Highland Fling next time I come in here to show you my boobs.”

Her body shuddered and jiggled as she swung her arms in angry gestures. Hair flying as her head tossed and turned with each word.

Ratchet, for his part, kept his mirth in check while he carefully applied a special gel to her body, covering her from neck down.  Waiting after coating her distended stomach for her to take her underwear off and fling them at her husband before she spread her legs, arms already held wide, waiting for the stuff to dry.

“I hate feeling like you’ve covered me in paint.  This stuff itches!  Seriously!  Million year old robots, can’t create a nutrient rich magic gel that doesn’t make me feel like I’ve been bit by a thousand mosquitos.”

Bumblebee stood like he wanted nothing more than to run from the room.  Carly’s anger and Spike’s quiet almost terrified submissiveness so uncharacteristic of his friends that he found himself almost afraid to make noise around them. 

Ratchet laughed, finishing her feet with a flourish of the brush.

“My apologies Carly, we usually take vorns to develop medical miracles, not days.  You may have to excuse us this once.”

She grumbled, sweeping her hair back into a ponytail.

“Well, I’ll tell you this much.  The fact that it heals my skin as it stretches redeems it in my book.  I look like I already have a kid who took red permanent marker to my gut, any more of this mess and all you’d be able to see is popped blood vessels and torn muscle!  SHIT!  I really need some vodka.  Any chance you’d let me have some vodka?”

Spike looked at his wife, alarm radiating from his whole body.

“NO!  No vodka, no liquor, no alcohol!”

The alarm in his voice stopped Carly cold, all three of the others looking at him with concern as he started shaking.

“No.  You don’t get to drink.  Not a drink, not a drop.  There isn’t any here and I’ll personally kill anyone who gets any for you. No.”

Carly squatted down, grabbing her husband’s hands in her own, sticky ones.

“Okay Spike, okay.  No drinking for me.  You alright?”

He clutched her hands tighter, eyes not meeting her own.

“Mom was a drinker.  S’why dad and I got left alone.  She didn’t care who we were half the time, and screamed at us the other half.  Only time I remember her smiling is right before she died in the hospital.  Only time I remember her telling us she loved us either.”

Carly sat and wrapped her arms around Spike, spreading the gel over his clothing.  He tugged her close and they all were still for a moment, hands squeezing each other in comfort.

“You know I’ll have to paint you with this gel again now, don’t you.”

“Shut up Ratchet, you’re ruining the moment.”

*~*~*~*~*~~*~*

“Carly, I don’t think you’re even capable of pushing this ‘baby’ out.   You would either need a rather large episiotomy, or you’re going to rip yourself open like a too small shirt on a fat kid.”

Spike burst out in laughter, legs wobbling as he tried to hold both himself and Carly up on the berth.  He was losing the battle when Bumblebee reached out and steadied them both, grinning along with Spike at Ratchet’s comment.

“My body bozo, my rules.  Besides, if this is labor, this whole mess isn’t going to be that hard.”

Ratchet’s resounding laughter was so loud that the humans had to clap hands to their ears.

“Carly, if you think that this is even a FRACTION of what labor is I want to know where you got your information.  I have to go berate them for their idiocy.  You are having what humans call Braxton Hicks.  You aren’t in labor.”

Carly looked at him, than dropped her head back to thunk against Bumblebee’s hand.

“Crap.”

“Honestly, I’m not even sure why you think that the baby will be human.  I’ve told you several times now that the makeup is completely Cybertronian, and that was why I was painting your skin with a metal nutrient based gel.  Sorry to break it to you Carly, but that ‘baby’ is pure metal.  You’re going to need a C-section.”

“This is so not how I pictured my first pregnancy.  I was going to glow, wear pretty dresses and coordinating shoes, go for walks where people could stop and admire me.  Wear a bikini on the beach so everyone could see that my husband is a stud!  Then I’d hop into a hippie bus and have the kid in some backwater forest surrounded by naked people chanting while I squatted and mooed like a cow.  THIS IS NOT WHAT I HAD IN MIND!”

Carly was breathing hard, the strain of keeping herself upright and yelling completely draining her energy.  Her stomach was huge, grossly distended to the point that it was necessary for her to lay down at all times, except for when Ratchet was painting her with more of the nutrient-stretchy gel.  She could barely move, ‘baby’ and belly so heavy that her weight was now doubled.  Even Bumblebee had joked that if she got much bigger he wouldn’t be able to put his arms around her.

She had promptly broken out into tears, both Bumblebee and Spike scrambling to calm her before Ratchet hit them in the head with wrenches.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Okay.”

Carly just looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Say what?”

Ratchet had just finished chirring and clicking at her stomach, a strangely and disturbingly cute scene for everyone but Carly, who claimed it ‘adorable’.

He says that, if you want, he’ll make himself fit through your birth canal.  It will look strange, to you, but if you’re set on doing it…”

“YES.  Just stick a needle in me and let’s get this done!  Look out vagina, baby coming through!”

Carly addressed the last bit at her crotch, patting it in encouragement since she couldn’t see it.  Spike looked green, and Bumblebee the Cybertronian equivalent of. 

Ratchet just sighed, setting up the berth for mess it was about to see. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Goddamn it Ratchet!”

A laugh told her that the medic was unconcerned with her curses and threats.

“I did tell you it would be painful.  Besides, your little mech has already separated and moved into position.  It would take him another 24 hours to reassemble and THEN I’d have to start the C-section while you are already in the throes of pain.  Not going to happen unless it has to.”

“I’m going to hide all your tools the second I can walk!”

“Just try it missy!  I’ll have Eject follow you around for the week afterward!”

“Fucking SPOOOOO-AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

“Not Spock.  My designation is Ratchet, though I don’t doubt he would find this fascinating. Your species is nothing if not stubborn.”

Spike looked like he wanted to be anywhere but next to his wife as she crushed his hand through another contraction.

“Can’t you give her something for the pain Ratchet?  It seems like it’s a lot…”

A snort.

“I HAVE given her something for the pain.  She refused to take more than a minimum amount, and I’m not going to force her unless someone is in danger.  So far, the only problems have been an increase of curse words in her lexicon.  Nothing fatal, just annoying.”

Bumblebee gave the medic a dirty look, supporting Carly as she squatted, one hand under her belly, the other around her back.

“Fucking aliens!  You give them an inch and they send you to hell with a basket of cupcakes!  WHERE ARE MY NAKED CHANTERS!”

Bumblebee jolted as she yelled, bearing down as another contraction came and went.  His optics rolled in their casings, but he activated his holo-emitter and suddenly Carly was surrounded by a group of naked, dirty, dreadlocked ‘hippies’.  They sat crosslegged and started to chant, Bumblebee’s voices more than a little wavery as he tried to appease his ‘baby mama’.

Ratchet stood back, watching the whole scene with an obvious glee.  Bumblebee could see that his optics were recording and glared, receiving a stuck out glossa in return.

“Don’t even think about it Bumbleduck.  I’ve got two weeks’ worth of cleaning in here I couldn’t do because it would have been bad for the humans.  Don’t make me give it to you instead of the twins.”

Bumblebee’s focus went back to Carly, the chanting growing stronger as he focused more awareness in them.  Carly was panting hard, liquid puddled at her feet as she grunted and bore down, an arm attached to wires popping out of her to land on the berth.

She couldn’t see what was going on, but Spike could and he <i>screamed</i>, jolting backward and flinging himself over the circle of bodies to scramble to the other side of the berth.  Another Bumblebee materialized just in time to catch him from going off the end of the medberth, and clamped his arms to his sides, holding Spike tight against his body.

“Holy mother of god please tell me that wasn’t just what I saw.  Please.  PLEASE tell me a dismembered ARM did not just come out of my wife!”

Ratchet rolled his optics.

“Of course a dismembered arm didn’t come out of your wife.  Don’t be an idiot!”

Spike jerked his head over to where Carly was holding one of Bumblebee’s hippie’s hands in place of Spike’s. 

“What the FUCK was that then!  Because it sure looked like that’s what it was!”

“THAT was what I TOLD you it was.  The sparkling said he would detach his parts as much as possible so Carly could push him out naturally.  I’m sure you were there for the discussion.”

Spike was still shaking, eyes rolling and face white. 

“I didn’t think you really meant like THAT though!”

Ratchet threw up his hands.

“How did you think I meant it!”

Spike shook his head.

“I don’t know!  Just… Just not like that!”

Even Bumblebee turned his real head to look at Spike, both he and Ratchet sporting rather incredulous expressions.

“I will never understand humans.  You lot are infuriating.”

Bumblebee voiced his agreement before turning back to Carly, the arm now joined by a piece of chest and a helm with optics looking around interestedly.  It chirped and Bumblebee responded with a happy trill, the rest of his chest joining the growing pile of parts beneath Carly.

Carly sagged, Bumblebee tightening his hold on her just enough to keep her upright.  Wires still connected the sparkling’s pieces from the ones on the berth to the ones still inside her and for Ratchet and Bumblebee it made a funny picture to see the tiny mechlings as a pile of parts slowly being drawn back together.

Another grunt and a leg dropped down, the sparkling’s arm and shoulder snapping together, chest not far behind.

“And just think, Carly, you’ve got half a baby to go!”

A groan, and she pushed out the second leg.

“Don’t let me make decisions like this again.  Treat me like a pet, make my decisions for me, just don’t let me do stupid things that end up with me carrying a giant metal baby that I’m pushing out of my snatch in pieces!”

“You should refer to your genitals by their proper names.  Va-gi-na.  Vagina.  Why on Cybertron would you call it a something completely unrelated?”

Spike had recovered enough to laugh.

“Derogatory terms Ratchet.  Like how we call guys who are jerks, dicks or douches.”

“And I know that my baby exit is called a VA-GI-NA, thank you Ratchet.  I just find it easier, and less syllables, to call it by a slang term.  FUCK!”

Carly braced herself again, legs shaking as the second to last part dropped down.  Blood and whatever version of amniotic fluid robots used mixing with some purple liquid over the sparkling’s body and pooling underneath. 

“Last bit Carly, then you can take a nice, long rest. Just one more part.”

She growled, baring her teeth at Bumblebee.

“These guys are more annoying than Spike, I just want a little QUIET to get this done and over with!  SERIOUSLY!”

The little mech was just waiting on his last arm, chirping and trilling at both Ratchet and Bumblebee as the naked people all disappeared, his arm clunking onto his chest with a loud clang.  It was seconds after that it reconnected to his body and Bumblebee helped Carly finally lay down on a pile of pillows away from the mess that had coagulated under her.

Spike moved to her side, stroking her sweat damp hair and watching the baby Cybertronian curiously.  He stood, bending joints and flexing servos and pedes, settling all of his parts in their casings before cautiously walking over to Bumblebee and holding out servos.  The universal sign for pick me up.

A grin spread wide on ‘Bee’s face and he scooped up the sparkling, nuzzling the mech’s abdominal plating and licking the excess fluid off with long swoops of his tongue.  Ratchet was next to Carly, scans already running blue over her skin, and chuckled at Spike’s expression.

“Told you.  Not a human baby.”

Carly stirred from where she was laying on the pillows.

“As long as I get to have a human one later, I’m fine with whatever Bumblebee says to do.”

She flapped a hand at Spike.

“But if you two ever get the wonderful idea to double team me again, the only name you’ll be going by is Bobbit.”