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Goretober Day 10: Prescription Dreams

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“Now which one of you ladies is the special birthday girl?”

Tall People Troubles

HOW TO MAKE A CUTE DRESS OUT OF SHORTS

put shorts on

put legs in one leg hole

pull up and on to shoulder

instant fashion

This is a fantastic headcanon by the lovely @praise-kink-anon who gave me permission to write it! Thank you!!

(Ratchet develops a parental/friend bond with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker during the war, but due to unfortunate circumstances they are terminated on the battlefield. But, years later, when he and Drift decide to kindle newsparks, they get their little lambos back. This time as cute ass sparklings)

Ratchet couldn’t stop staring.

By no means did he believe in Primus, and nor had he ever believed in anything of the like, for that matter.

But the universe was tricky. Hard to understand. Challenging and cruel, but sometimes surprising.

And sometimes, Ratchet did find his beliefs being tested.

A brief fragment of a memory, stirring away in the back of his processor came to drift back, tickling familiarity as purple optics blinked back at him.

He was old, his memory fuzzy at best, but he couldn’t forget those optics.

Young and frenzied, fighting in a war they had been built for.

Too young and too… innocent.

But now they were back, and Ratchet couldn’t quite place his digit on whether things really did happen in coincidence.

Because in all honesty, it felt like a dream. A lovely one, but sick and cruel and tormenting.

As if he were going to wake, and the beings he missed most were going to be torn right from his servos.

But he didn’t wake.

There was no recharge purge.

Nothing to shatter the wave of bliss that had washed over him.

First Aid had brushed it off as a first-time sire being in awe of the tiny sparklings that were /his/.

And he was in awe.

In shock, actually.

Sideswipe squirmed, fingers still curled around his brother’s, and the particular glint that was flickering through his optics, cheeky and mischievous, told Ratchet everything he needed to know.

Even if it felt oddly dangerous, as if he were messing with something he shouldn’t have.

And it was, the very thought of Cybertronians- or any being for that matter, getting reincarnated, in his books, was inane.

Impossible.

But Ratchet could either take it or leave it.

He could give them new designations, urge for paintjobs that weren’t red and yellow, hammer out the plotting that was certainly already brewing in Side- his creations optics.

But in good conscience, the answer was no.

He couldn’t.

Not when spilt spark twins, a rarity in themselves, were lying curled in his arms. Blinking familiar optics, morphing into frames he had seen dead and smoking on the battlefield.

It would be cruel not to.

He couldn’t tear away a second chance.

But whether it was for them, or for him, he couldn’t tell. Nor would he ever.

Sunstreaker kicked out a foot, Sideswipe following the uncoordinated flail with a wiggle of his own, before both of them yawned.

It drew Drift’s attention, and for the fourth time that cycle he asked for designation ideas.

Ratchet smiled, and gently poked at the dimples piled on rounded cheeks.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

11/15/18: The Last Web-bender

Then everything changed when the spider-slayers attacked…

Could I please get TFA Wreck-gar/Ratchet with Ratch talking Wreck-gar through topping for the first time and being pleasantly surprised at what a fast learner he in

TFA Wreck-Gar/Ratchet

"Just like that, Wreck-Gar," Ratchet moaned as the other mech thrusted into him. "Y-you can try and wrap your hand around my spike while you move, if you want."

"If I want?" Wreck-Gar repeated playfully as he reached down to do as Ratchet asked. "While I move? So if I did this…" he said, beginning to pump Ratchet's spike with his larger servos. He carefully let his thumb pass across the top in the way Ratchet had taught him when he needed to self-service. 

Ratchet closed his optics and tossed his head back in a surprised groan. "W-wreck-Gar, I'm not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that." He warned. 

"Good! I want to make you feel good, Ratchet!" He said happily. "You make me feel good, too. May I try something?" He asked.

Ratchet nodded in agreement, then grunted in surprise when Wreck-gar stopped and quickly used his strong hands to grab both of Ratchet's thighs and spread them further apart before he pressed his spike back in, deeper than before. His new pace was hard and fast, leaving Ratchet little room to speak. He held tight to Wreck-Gar's chest and made encouraging groans against the mech's audial. 

Then Wreck-Gar dropped a hand— not for Ratchet's spike, but for the bright point that Ratchet had called his 'anterior node'. He gently pressed against it, flinching when Ratchet cried out in sudden pleasure and grabbed desperately at Wreck-Gar's chest. 

Wreck-Gar did it again, pressing a little more firmly and loving the sounds it pulled from the medic. 

But then Ratchet's servo shot down and grabbed his hand.

"Easy there, Wreck." He panted. "Not so rough on the node. It's really sensitive, remember?" 

"Sorry, Ratchet." Wreck-Gar said, pulling his hand away and moving to pull away from Ratchet altogether 

"I didn't say stop," the Docbot growled as he grabbed him again. "Just… go easier, okay?"

"Easier. I can do that." The garbage mech promised. He put his finger back the node and began to gently circle it, using only light touches this time. He nearly apologized again when he accidentally flicked the top of his finger across the node, but Ratchet moved his hips down against him and his calipers fluttered along his spike.

"Ohhhh, frag," Ratchet moaned. "That's better, Wreck, much better. Don't stop."

"Don't stop," Wreck-Gar hummed in pleasure as the medic tightened around his spike. He leaned down, starting up his rough pace again while keeping his touch gentle but consistent. He alternated little circles, gentle flicks and soft presses of his servos to keep the medic writhing against him. 

Ratchet's overload took them both by surprise. Wreck-Gar shivered as the panting doctor's valve fluttered around his spike and pulled his own overload from him. 

"Not bad for your first time, you looney-bin." Ratchet said fondly as he laid out underneath the other mech. 

"And that's just the first time!" Wreck-Gar said happily as he fell on top of the other and pressed a kiss to his grumpy but sated face.