deceptibots

[deceptibots]

"I Hate That I Like It" - Ratchet x Reader

“This is stupid. And I hate that I like it so much.”

Prompt by @/creativepromptsforwriting 

Pairings -> Ratchet x Y/N

Warnings -> None

Genre/Theme -> fluff, teasing

Note -> n/a

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It had started as a joke. A silly, throwaway comment during one of the quiet evenings in the base. Smokescreen had found an old human board game in the wreckage of a nearby town and convinced everyone to play. You, always up for a little chaos, had joined in immediately, dragging Ratchet into the mix despite his protests.

“This is a waste of time,” Ratchet had grumbled, crossing his arms as he watched you and the others set up the game.

“It’s called relaxation, Doc,” you replied, grinning up at him. “You should try it sometime.”

“I relax by working,” he muttered, though he made no move to leave.

What followed was chaos. The game required everyone to draw cards with ridiculous prompts, many of which were designed to embarrass the players. By the time it was Ratchet’s turn, the room was filled with laughter, mostly at Bulkhead’s failed attempt to balance three tools on his head.

“Your turn, Doc,” you said, sliding the deck toward him with a teasing grin.

He sighed heavily, his optics narrowing as he picked up a card. As he read it, his frame stiffened, and you could see the faintest flicker of annoyance in his optics.

“What’s it say?” Smokescreen asked eagerly.

Ratchet glared at you instead of answering, holding the card up. “It says I have to wear this ridiculous hat for the rest of the game.”

You burst out laughing, holding up the object in question: a bright, glittery party hat that someone—probably Smokescreen—had thrown into the pile of props.

“This is absurd,” Ratchet growled as you placed the hat on his head, adjusting it so it wouldn’t fall.

“It’s perfect,” you said, grinning.

“I’m a medic, not a party decoration,” he grumbled, though he didn’t remove the hat.

The game continued, but your attention kept drifting back to Ratchet. Something about the way the glittery hat sat atop his crest, juxtaposed with his usual grumpy demeanor, was downright hilarious.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, his tone sharp as he caught you glancing at him for the third time.

“Because you look amazing,” you replied, unable to keep the laughter out of your voice.

“This is stupid,” he muttered, his servos twitching slightly. “And I hate that I like it so much.”

Your grin widened. “You like it?”

“I said I hate that I like it,” he clarified, his optics narrowing.

“That’s not a denial,” you teased, leaning closer.

“It’s a statement,” he shot back, though the faintest flicker of amusement danced in his optics.

By the time the game ended, the room was filled with laughter, and even Ratchet seemed more relaxed than usual. The hat stayed on, though he muttered complaints under his breath every time someone pointed it out.

As the others drifted off to their respective quarters, you lingered in the med bay, tidying up the leftover pieces from the game. Ratchet was at his workstation, the glittery hat still perched on his head as he typed away.

“You know,” you said, crossing the room to stand beside him, “I think the hat suits you.”

He sighed, setting down his tools. “If you say that again, I’ll ban you from the med bay.”

“You wouldn’t,” you replied, smirking.

“Don’t test me,” he muttered, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness.

You reached up, gently adjusting the hat so it sat at a slightly jauntier angle. “There. Perfect.”

He gave you a flat look, though there was no real irritation in his optics. “This is still ridiculous.”

“And yet, here you are, still wearing the hat,” you said, crossing your arms with a triumphant grin.

He didn’t reply immediately, his optics flickering briefly before he sighed. “This is your fault, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” you replied, laughing softly. “And I’m never letting you live it down.”

For a moment, he simply stared at you, his frame relaxing slightly. “You’re lucky I tolerate you.”

“I’m lucky you like me,” you corrected, your grin softening into something warmer.

“Don’t push it,” he muttered, though the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

When you passed through the med bay the next morning, the glittery hat was sitting on one of the shelves, carefully placed as though it were something valuable.

“You kept it?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ratchet didn’t look up from his work. “It’s a reminder,” he said simply.

“Of what?”

“That I need to stop letting you talk me into ridiculous things,” he replied, though his tone was more fond than annoyed.

You laughed, leaning against the doorway. “Too bad, Doc. You’re stuck with me now.”

He glanced at you, his optics softening briefly. “I’m starting to realize that.”

[deceptibots]

"I Guess" - Ratchet x Reader

“I wouldn’t mind holding your hand. I guess.”

Prompt by @/creativepromptsforwriting 

Pairings -> Ratchet x Y/N

Warnings -> None

Genre/Theme -> fluff, teasing

Note -> n/a

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The base was quiet, the aftermath of a long day settling over the halls like a heavy blanket. You sat on the med bay floor, leaning against the wall with your knees pulled up to your chest, staring absently at the distant glow of the monitors. Across the room, Ratchet worked at his console, his servos moving with practiced precision as he repaired a damaged scanner.

You weren’t hurt—at least, not physically. The mission had been successful, but something about the close call lingered in your chest like a weight you couldn’t shake. You hadn’t said much since returning to the base, and Ratchet, for all his usual grumbling, hadn’t pressed you.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness.

You glanced up, surprised to find him looking at you over his shoulder. “Just tired,” you replied, forcing a small smile.

His optics narrowed slightly, as if he didn’t quite believe you. “Tired doesn’t usually make you sit in silence for this long.”

You shrugged, looking away. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” he asked, turning fully to face you now.

“Nothing important,” you said, your voice softer.

Ratchet’s frame shifted slightly, his servos twitching as if he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure how. “Y/N,” he said, his tone gentler now, “if something’s bothering you, you should say so.”

“It’s nothing, really,” you insisted, though your voice wavered slightly. “Just… today was close. Too close.”

He studied you for a long moment before stepping closer, his massive frame looming but not intimidating. “That’s part of war,” he said quietly. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

You nodded, your hands fidgeting in your lap. “I guess I just… needed a minute to let it sink in.”

“That’s understandable,” he said, his tone softer than usual.

You glanced up at him, your lips twitching into a faint smile. “Thanks, Doc. For not pushing me too hard.”

“I push you because I care,” he replied, his optics flickering. “But I know when to stop.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence. Then, almost without thinking, you murmured, “You know… I wouldn’t mind holding your hand. I guess.”

His optics widened slightly, his servos stilling as if the words had short-circuited his processors. “What?”

You laughed softly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Forget it. It was stupid.”

He hesitated, his optics dimming briefly before he reached out, his massive servo lowering to your level. “It’s not… stupid.”

You blinked, staring at his outstretched servo. “Wait, really?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” he said, though his voice carried a hint of awkwardness. “Besides… if it helps you feel grounded, I suppose I can make an exception.”

A soft laugh escaped you as you reached out, placing your hand on his. His servo was warm, the metal surprisingly gentle as it curled slightly around your smaller hand.

“Thanks, Ratchet,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He glanced away, his optics flickering. “Don’t make a habit of this.”

“Of course not,” you said, smiling. “But, for the record, you’re really good at it.”

“Good at what?” he asked, his tone defensive.

“Comforting people,” you replied, squeezing his hand lightly.

He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

The two of you sat like that for a while, his servo resting gently around your hand as the tension from the day slowly melted away. You didn’t say much, and neither did he, but the silence was comforting rather than awkward.

When you finally felt ready to stand, you gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go. “Thanks, Doc. I needed that.”

He watched you for a moment, his optics softer than usual. “Anytime,” he said quietly.

[deceptibots]

"Can’t Sleep Without You" - Ratchet x Reader

“Too bad, you need to sleep here now. I can’t seem to sleep without you anymore.”

Prompt by @/creativepromptsforwriting 

Pairings -> Ratchet x Y/N

Warnings -> None

Genre/Theme -> fluff, teasing

Note -> n/a

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The med bay was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of monitors and diagnostic equipment. You sat perched on a crate, your knees pulled up to your chest as you watched Ratchet finish his nightly maintenance. He didn’t need to do it every night, but you knew it gave him something to focus on when the base was too quiet.

“You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “it’s kind of unsettling how you can just keep going without ever needing to sleep. Don’t you get tired?”

He glanced at you, his optics flickering. “Cybertronians don’t need sleep the way humans do. Rest cycles are sufficient for our systems.”

“Yeah, but you don’t even rest,” you pointed out, stretching your legs out in front of you. “You just keep working until something breaks—whether it’s you or the equipment.”

His optics narrowed slightly. “I’m perfectly functional, Y/N.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, smirking as you hopped off the crate and walked over to him. “What about mentally? Emotionally? You ever give that a break, Doc?”

Ratchet sighed, his servos pausing mid-motion as he turned to face you fully. “I don’t need you psychoanalyzing me at this hour.”

“It’s not psychoanalyzing,” you said, grinning as you leaned against his workstation. “It’s called concern. You know, that thing people feel for other people when they care about them.”

“I’m aware of the concept,” he replied dryly, though the faint flicker of something softer passed through his optics.

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms. “Because I’m concerned that you’re going to work yourself into the ground.”

He huffed, turning back to his tools. “You’re relentless.”

“And you’re stubborn,” you countered, stepping closer. “So, I guess we’re even.”

You reached out, resting a hand lightly on his arm. The motion made him pause, his optics flickering toward you again. “Seriously, Ratchet,” you said, your tone softer now. “You need to take a break. Just… shut down for a little while. Recharge. I promise the world won’t end if you’re not working for five minutes.”

He studied you for a moment, his frame relaxing slightly. “And what about you?” he asked. “You’re still awake, too.”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one holding this place together,” you said with a small smile. “I just can’t sleep.”

“Why not?” he asked, his tone curious but cautious.

You hesitated, your gaze dropping for a moment before you met his optics again. “Because you’re not there,” you admitted quietly.

Ratchet blinked, his servos stilling completely. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that I’ve gotten used to you being nearby,” you said, laughing softly. “And now, when I try to sleep somewhere else, it just… doesn’t feel right.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness.

“Maybe,” you said, shrugging. “But it’s true. So, too bad. You need to sleep here now. I can’t seem to sleep without you anymore.”

His optics widened slightly, his frame stiffening as if he didn’t know how to process your words. “Y/N, that’s—”

“Sweet?” you interrupted, grinning. “Adorable? Completely unexpected from someone as grumpy as you?”

He groaned, dragging a servo down his faceplate. “I was going to say ‘unnecessary.’”

“Too bad,” you said, stepping back and crossing your arms. “You’re stuck with me now. Deal with it.”

Ratchet sighed heavily, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here I am,” you said, smirking.

He glanced at you, his optics softening slightly. “I suppose there are worse humans I could be stuck with.”

“Was that a compliment?” you asked, feigning surprise.

“Don’t push your luck,” he muttered, though the faint flicker of amusement in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

When the silence stretched out between you again, it wasn’t awkward or tense. Instead, it was warm, filled with unspoken understanding. You sat back down on the crate, leaning against the wall as you watched him work.

“Seriously, though,” you said softly, your eyes starting to drift shut. “Don’t stay up all night. The base needs you. I need you.”

He glanced at you, his frame stilling for a moment before he turned back to his tools. “I’ll rest. Eventually.”

“Good,” you murmured, already half-asleep. “Because I sleep better when you’re here.”

As your breathing evened out, Ratchet turned to look at you again, his optics dimming slightly. For a long moment, he stood there, silently watching you sleep.

“You’re insufferable,” he muttered under his breath, though the warmth in his tone betrayed the words.

Finally, he set down his tools, his frame relaxing as he leaned back against the wall. He wouldn’t say it aloud, but he found himself agreeing with you: it was easier to rest with you nearby.

[deceptibots]

im not the type to finish anything

[deceptibots]

Merformers Megatron x reader

どう言う状況かわからない下書きのまま残してたので、再利用。メガトロン　メガロドン🦈

Merformersメガトロンを投網で捕まえようとしてるオプティマスの画像ください！！

[deceptibots]

"Even More" - Ratchet x Reader

“How do you always make me love you even more when I don’t want to?”

Prompt by @/creativepromptsforwriting

Pairings -> Ratchet x Y/N

Warnings -> None

Genre/Theme -> fluff, teasing

Note -> n/a

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The med bay was dimly lit, the quiet hum of machinery filling the air as you sat on the edge of a supply crate, patching up your arm. Ratchet was at his workstation nearby, silent except for the occasional sound of tools clicking together. It was a comfortable kind of quiet, one you’d grown used to in the time you’d spent here.

But tonight, something felt… different. The tension between you was heavier than usual, his shoulders stiff as he worked. You hadn’t missed the way he’d growled under his breath earlier when you came in with a fresh injury, or the sharpness in his optics when he realized how close you’d come to getting hurt again.

“Okay,” you said finally, breaking the silence. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied, his tone clipped, though he didn’t look up.

“Ratchet,” you said, standing and crossing the room to his side. “Come on, talk to me.”

He sighed heavily, setting down his tools and turning to face you. “What were you thinking out there?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the frustration in his voice. “I was thinking I needed to help Smokescreen before he got slagged. Same as always.”

“You could have been killed,” he said, his optics narrowing. “Do you ever stop to think about that? About how reckless you are?”

You crossed your arms, meeting his gaze evenly. “I’m not reckless. I’m just doing what needs to be done.”

“At the cost of your own safety?” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “You act like you’re invincible, Y/N, but you’re not. You’re human.”

“I know that,” you said, your voice softening. “But this is a war, Ratchet. We all take risks.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to throw yourself into danger at every opportunity,” he muttered, his servos clenching at his sides. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch you run headfirst into a fight, knowing you might not come back?”

The raw emotion in his voice caught you off guard, your breath hitching as you realized just how deeply this was affecting him.

“Ratchet…” you said softly, stepping closer.

He sighed again, his optics dimming as he looked away. “I’ve seen too much loss already. I can’t… I won’t stand by and watch you become another casualty.”

You hesitated for a moment before placing a hand gently on his arm. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His gaze flickered toward you, the tension in his frame easing slightly. “You scare me every time you step onto the battlefield,” he admitted, his voice low. “And yet… you make it impossible for me to tell you to stop.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat at the weight of his words. “Why’s that?”

He hesitated, his servos flexing slightly before he spoke again. “Because of you. Because of who you are. No matter how much I want to protect you, I know I can’t take away what makes you… you.”

Your lips curved into a small, soft smile. “Is that your way of saying you care about me?”

He huffed, his optics narrowing slightly. “Don’t push it.”

You chuckled, stepping closer until you were standing right in front of him. “You know, you could just admit it. Might make things easier for both of us.”

He shook his head, his expression softening despite himself. “You’re infuriating, Y/N. And yet…” He trailed off, his voice growing quieter. “How do you always make me love you even more when I don’t want to?”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. Then, slowly, you smiled, your hand brushing lightly against his.

“Maybe because I’m just that lovable,” you said softly, your tone teasing but warm.

He sighed, shaking his head. “That’s one explanation, I suppose.”

For the first time, Ratchet didn’t turn back to his tools or brush you off. Instead, he held your gaze, his optics softer than you’d ever seen them.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice steady now, “just promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” you replied.

“Don’t make me regret this,” he said, his tone a mix of gruffness and vulnerability.

You smiled, your hand tightening slightly around his servo. “I won’t.”

This time, when the silence settled between you, it wasn’t tense or uncomfortable. It was warm, filled with unspoken understanding. And as you sat together in the quiet med bay, you realized that maybe, just maybe, this grumpy medic wasn’t as unreachable as he seemed.

[deceptibots]

"You’re the Angel" - Ratchet x Reader

"Don't call me angel. You're the angel!"

Prompt by @/creativepromptsforwriting 

Pairings -> Ratchet x Y/N

Warnings -> None

Genre/Theme -> fluff, teasing

Note -> n/a

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It had been another long day at the Autobot base. A minor skirmish with the Decepticons had left the team rattled but intact, though you’d been kept busy patching up Smokescreen and Bumblebee while Ratchet handled the more serious repairs. Now, with everyone stabilized and resting, the med bay had finally quieted down.

You leaned against a counter, watching Ratchet finish his post-mission diagnostics on the monitors. His frame was tense, as always, his focus unshakable. You couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight. Despite his gruffness, he cared more deeply for his team than he’d ever admit.

“Thanks for helping me earlier, Doc,” you said, breaking the silence.

“I didn’t do anything special,” he replied, his optics flickering toward you briefly before returning to his work.

“You kept Smokescreen from bleeding out all over my boots,” you countered, grinning. “Pretty angelic of you.”

He froze for a moment, his servos stilling mid-motion. “Angel?”

“Yeah,” you said, still grinning. “You know, like a guardian angel.”

Ratchet turned to face you, crossing his arms as his optics narrowed slightly. “Don’t call me angel.”

“Why not?” you asked, your grin widening. “You don’t like compliments?”

“It’s not accurate,” he replied gruffly.

You tilted your head, feigning thoughtfulness. “I don’t know… you swoop in, save lives, and grumble about it the whole time. Sounds pretty angelic to me.”

He sighed, muttering something in Cybertronian before turning back to his workstation. “You’re impossible.”

You pushed off the counter and moved closer, unable to resist the urge to prod him further. “Oh, come on, Doc. Don’t act like you don’t like being appreciated.”

“I don’t need to be called ridiculous names to feel appreciated,” he muttered, his tone sharper now.

“Fine,” you said, leaning against his workstation with a smirk. “Then what should I call you? Grumpy guardian? Metallic messiah?”

He gave you a flat look. “How about nothing?”

“Oh, no,” you said, your grin turning mischievous. “I’m calling you angel, and you’re just going to have to live with it.”

He groaned, dragging a servo down his faceplate. “Don’t call me angel. You’re the angel!”

The words came out so abruptly that it took a moment for both of you to register them. He froze, his optics widening slightly as if he couldn’t believe he’d just said that.

You blinked, stunned into silence for once. “Wait… what?”

He turned back to his workstation abruptly, his servos fumbling slightly as he reached for a tool. “Forget I said that.”

“Not a chance,” you said, recovering quickly as a slow grin spread across your face. “Did Ratchet, the grumpiest medic in the universe, just call me angel?”

“I misspoke,” he said stiffly, his optics fixed firmly on the screen in front of him.

“Oh, no, no, no,” you said, stepping closer. “You didn’t misspeak. You meant it.”

“Drop it, Y/N,” he muttered, his tone a mix of irritation and embarrassment.

“But why would I do that?” you teased, leaning into his line of sight. “It’s not every day I get called something nice by you.”

He sighed heavily, finally setting down his tools and turning to face you. “You are relentless.”

“And you’re deflecting,” you replied, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Admit it—you meant it.”

His optics flickered, his frame shifting as if he were debating whether to argue further. Finally, he sighed again, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Fine,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I meant it.”

Your teasing grin softened into something warmer. “Well, that’s a first. Ratchet giving me a compliment without me dragging it out of him.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness.

You stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on his arm. “For the record… I think you’re pretty angelic too.”

He huffed, his optics dimming slightly as he looked away. “Don’t push your luck, Y/N.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you said, grinning again.

As you left the med bay, you glanced back over your shoulder to find Ratchet still at his workstation, his frame slightly more relaxed than before.

“Goodnight, Doc,” you called out. “Sweet dreams, my guardian angel!”

[deceptibots]

I REDESIGNED MY HUMANFORMERS HEEHEEEE

[deceptibots]

Humanized

[deceptibots]

gAAAAHHH, can i just say that i came across 'in the wake of the stars' earlier today and im already on chapter 12 and immensely hooked. like- i absolutely love slow burns and your writing style and i've been trying to pace myself to save more of your fic for later on so i have something to look forward to. oh my gosh though i just had to come over here and tell you that it's really good and please take breaks, drink water, take care of yourself and keep up the great wORRKK💛💛💛

Hello!! Thank you for dropping by!! I'm so glad you're hooked!! You're so sweet!! This story has being a huge passion project of mine.

I 100% get you with wanting to pace things out; I've just uploaded a new chapter today so you're going swell!! It makes me happy that you're enjoying it this much haha, I feel so bashful now.

I'm recovering well and taking it slow myself with these chapters!! I hope you manage to catch up soon mightytato!!

[deceptibots]

In The Wake of Stars (Optimus Prime x Reader): Chapter 36

Summary

In a world torn apart by war and infused with strange, unpredictable magic, the Autobots fight to reclaim Earth from the Decepticons while a human rebellion rises in defiance. Amidst the chaos, you—a skilled mechanic—are thrust into the heart of a secret project involving hybrid human-Cybertronian technology.

Chapter 36: Terms of Hybrid

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61033129/chapters/168137992

Upload Schedule

1 chapter weekly. Tuesdays/Wednesdays.

Tags

Canon divergent, alternative universe, romance, found family, war, slow burn, angst, tragedy

[deceptibots]

“Like This” - Ratchet x Reader

“I personally like it, but you do look silly like this.”

Prompt by @/creativepromptsforwriting 

The med bay was unusually quiet after the morning’s chaos, and you were taking full advantage of the rare downtime to reorganize supplies. Ratchet, predictably, was not. Instead, he was hunched over his workbench, tinkering with a repair drone that had been acting up during the last mission.

You glanced over at him, watching as he grumbled under his breath and reached for another tool. A thought crossed your mind—a mischievous, borderline reckless thought that made you grin.

It started innocently enough. A stray length of medical tape, a sharp flick of your wrist, and suddenly Ratchet’s right forearm had a white stripe wrapping around it.

He froze mid-motion, optics narrowing as he glanced down at his arm. “Y/N,” he said slowly, his voice low with warning. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” you said innocently, already flicking another piece of tape in his direction. This one landed on his shoulder.

“Helping?” he repeated, turning to glare at you. “Explain how this is remotely helpful.”

“You looked tense,” you said with a grin, stepping closer with another strip of tape. “I figured a little decoration might cheer you up.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he crossed his arms—completely forgetting the tape on his arm in the process. “I don’t need cheering up. I need a functioning repair drone and less interference.”

“Aw, come on, Doc,” you teased, circling him as you carefully applied another piece of tape to his back. “A little fun won’t kill you.”

“This isn’t fun,” he muttered, though he made no move to stop you.

“Maybe not for you,” you replied, laughing as you added a strip of tape to his head, just above his optic.

He froze again, his optics narrowing dangerously. “Did you just—?”

“You’re welcome,” you said, taking a step back to admire your handiwork.

Ratchet turned slowly, his optics locked onto you with an expression that would have made any other Autobot quake. But you just grinned, tilting your head as you crossed your arms.

“I personally like it,” you said with a playful smirk, “but you do look silly like this.”

“Silly?” he repeated, his voice full of disbelief.

You gestured toward his reflection in the nearby console screen. The medical tape crisscrossed his frame like a child’s art project, with one particularly daring piece sticking to his crest like a makeshift party hat.

He stared at his reflection for a long moment before turning back to you. “Y/N…”

“Yeah?” you asked, grinning.

“I’m going to give you exactly five seconds to start running,” he said, his tone deceptively calm.

You bolted, laughing as you darted out of the med bay and down the hallway. “I’m only helping, Ratchet!”

“You’re insufferable!” he shouted, his heavy footsteps echoing behind you.

“I thought you liked me!” you called back, glancing over your shoulder.

“I’m rethinking it!” he retorted, though there was no real malice in his voice.

You skidded around a corner, nearly colliding with Smokescreen, who looked between you and Ratchet with wide optics. “Uh, what’s going on?”

“Y/N is testing my patience,” Ratchet growled as he thundered past.

“Seems like a normal day,” Smokescreen muttered, stepping aside as you disappeared around the next corner.

Eventually, Ratchet caught up to you in the storage room, his massive frame blocking the only exit. You leaned against a crate, still grinning despite the way your chest heaved from the exertion.

“Alright, alright,” you said, holding up your hands. “Truce?”

He crossed his arms, his optics narrowing. “Are you done?”

“Yeah,” you said, chuckling as you straightened. “I promise. No more tape.”

He sighed, rubbing a servo over his faceplate. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” you replied, your grin softening. “Admit it—you’re not actually mad.”

He glared at you, though his optics flickered with something closer to amusement. “You’re lucky I have work to do. Otherwise, you’d be scrubbing the med bay floor for the rest of the week.”

“Fair enough,” you said, stepping past him toward the door. “But, for the record, I think the tape suited you.”

“Out,” he barked, though you caught the faintest trace of a smile before you disappeared down the hall.

[deceptibots]

[deceptibots]

“So Kissable” - Ratchet x Reader

“Why is your stupid face just so kissable?”

Prompt by @/creativepromptsforwriting 

Pairings -> Ratchet x Y/N

Warnings -> None

Genre/Theme -> fluff, teasing

Note -> n/a

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was one of those rare moments in the base when everything was calm. No Decepticon attacks, no medical emergencies, no last-minute scrambles to fix a piece of vital equipment. You were lounging on a crate in the med bay, idly flipping through a datapad as Ratchet tinkered with a damaged piece of tech at his workstation.

“Are you going to sit there all day and watch me work?” Ratchet asked without looking up, his voice gruff but lacking its usual bite.

“Maybe,” you replied, smirking as you leaned back. “It’s kind of fun watching you get all focused. Your face does this thing where you scrunch up like you’re mad, but I know you’re just concentrating.”

“My face does no such thing,” he muttered, adjusting a wire with his massive servo.

“It totally does,” you teased, hopping off the crate and wandering over to his workstation. “It’s like this mix of frustration and—” You paused, leaning closer to him with a grin. “—intense smoldering.”

He froze for a moment, his optics flickering as if debating whether to dignify your comment with a response. “Y/N,” he said finally, his voice dry, “do you ever run out of things to say?”

“Not when I’m around you,” you replied, propping your chin on your hand as you watched him work.

Ratchet sighed, his servos pausing mid-motion as he glanced down at you. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you let me stay,” you countered, your grin widening.

“Because it’s either tolerate your antics,” he said, turning back to his work, “or listen to Smokescreen’s attempts at humor.”

“Fair point,” you said, laughing softly. “But admit it, Doc—you like having me around.”

He didn’t answer, his focus shifting back to the wires in front of him. But you noticed the way his optics flickered, the faint tension in his shoulders.

“You’re blushing, aren’t you?” you teased, leaning closer.

“I don’t blush,” he replied firmly, though his tone was less convincing than usual.

“Oh, you definitely do,” you said, smirking. “Why is your stupid face just so kissable when you’re flustered?”

The tool in Ratchet’s hand slipped, clattering onto the workstation. He turned to you, his optics narrowing as his frame tensed. “Excuse me?”

You blinked, caught off guard by your own words. “Uh… did I say that out loud?”

“Yes,” he said flatly, though his optics betrayed a flicker of something—shock? Amusement? You couldn’t quite tell.

“Well,” you said, clearing your throat and trying to recover. “I mean… it’s true.”

Ratchet stared at you, his expression unreadable as the med bay fell into an awkward silence. Then, finally, he sighed, dragging a servo down his faceplate. “Y/N, I’m beginning to think you’ve entirely lost your mind.”

“Maybe,” you said, grinning again. “But it got your attention, didn’t it?”

He shook his head, muttering something in Cybertronian before turning back to his work. “You are impossible.”

“And yet,” you said, stepping closer and leaning on the edge of the workstation, “you haven’t told me I’m wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he asked, not looking at you.

“That your face is kissable,” you replied, smirking. “Come on, Doc, you can admit it.”

He paused, his servos stilling as he glanced at you out of the corner of his optic. “Y/N…”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever consider how much trouble you’d be in if I had less patience?”

You laughed, leaning back. “Nah, you love me too much to stay mad.”

For a moment, his optics softened, his frame relaxing ever so slightly. “You’re lucky I do.”

You blinked, his words sinking in as the teasing grin faded from your face. “Wait, did you just—?”

“Don’t read into it,” he said quickly, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness.

“Oh, I’m definitely reading into it,” you said, your smile returning. “Did Ratchet, the grumpy Autobot medic, just admit that he loves me?”

“I said no such thing,” he grumbled, turning back to his tools.

“You so did,” you teased, stepping closer again. “It’s okay, Doc. Your stupid, kissable face is safe from me—for now.”

His optics flickered, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw the faintest trace of a smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you said, leaning back against the counter with a satisfied grin.

“Primus help me,” he muttered, though the warmth in his voice told you everything you needed to know.

[deceptibots]

In The Wake of Stars (Optimus Prime x Reader): Chapter 35

Summary

In a world torn apart by war and infused with strange, unpredictable magic, the Autobots fight to reclaim Earth from the Decepticons while a human rebellion rises in defiance. Amidst the chaos, you—a skilled mechanic—are thrust into the heart of a secret project involving hybrid human-Cybertronian technology.

Chapter 35: The Shatterline

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61033129/chapters/167534173

Upload Schedule

1 chapter weekly. Tuesdays/Wednesdays 9:30am ish GMT+13.

Tags

Canon divergent, alternative universe, romance, found family, war, slow burn, angst, tragedy

[deceptibots]

In The Wake of Stars (Optimus Prime x Reader): Chapter 27 - 34

Summary

In a world torn apart by war and infused with strange, unpredictable magic, the Autobots fight to reclaim Earth from the Decepticons while a human rebellion rises in defiance. Amidst the chaos, you—a skilled mechanic—are thrust into the heart of a secret project involving hybrid human-Cybertronian technology.

Chapter 27: Settling In

Chapter 28: The Subtleties of Trust

Chapter 29: Piece by Piece

Chapter 30: Trust Exercise

Chapter 31: A Moment to Breathe

Chapter 32: Unscripted

Chapter 33: The Rift's Warning

Chapter 34: Speeding Towards Trouble

<- Chapter 25 - Chapter 35 ->

Upload Schedule

1 to 2 chapters weekly. Tuesdays and Wednesdays 9:30am ish GMT+13.

Tags

Canon divergent, alternative universe, romance, found family, war, slow burn, angst, tragedy

[deceptibots]

Hi, I was just looking through your blog and I just wanted to say that I LOVE your short stories!! Especially the Ratchet x Reader ones! They're so well written and you portrayed Ratchet really accurately. Thankyou heaps for sharing them!😊

Hello!!

Thank you so much!! I'm so glad you love them. Ratchet is such a huge comfort character of mine; he rots in my brain day and night. I resist the urge to write him a whole entire story because I need to finish the current one haha

Updates have being close to zero because I've being hospitalised. I'm doing better though!! So hopefully things will be back to now soon!