Since your asks are open, could I please get a oneshot of TFA Bumblebee playing with the readers hair. Just something sweet and comforting, like the two just relaxing at night cuddling. Sorry if this is too much!
A/N: FIRST OF ALL, this is absolutely not too much!!! This is AMAZING THANK YOU SM FOR REQUESTING THIS ONE I AM CRYING. I’ll leave it up to you to imagine what they just came home from, but otherwise, enjoy this slightly angsty bit. Bumblebee’s learned to slow down and appreciate the quiet moments after a rough day. I hope it’s okay!! :’0
Pairing: TFA Bumblebee x gn!Reader, can be seen as platonic or romantic.
Warnings: Some angst!
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It had been a long day.
Fighting for your lives was a common occurrence by now. Bumblebee had been doing it for almost as long as he could remember. But you? You were just a human—one that was now wrapped up in a war that you realistically should have no part in.
The amount of times you’d come close—too close—to death because of it made him want to hide you somewhere off in the galaxy where no one would be able to hurt you ever again.
But of course… it wasn’t realistic. He was a soldier. He had a duty to his crew, to his leader, and to Primus himself to stop the Decepticons from enslaving and destroying. To help restore Cybertron one day. And you had a life to live here on your home planet.
Ironic… You had your own life to live, but the young Autobot’s introduction had pulled all of that completely to a halt.
You weren’t just any other teen anymore. You were an easy target—small and fragile when compared to the gargantuan and practically bulletproof alien beings that could crush you without a second thought if they so pleased. All it would take was one mishap, one mistake, one moment where he could be looking away—and it would all be over. The mere thought of it made his spark chamber threaten to implode, and every single time the possibility did flutter across his processor, he forced it away quickly.
None of that could happen. None of it would happen. He’d make sure of it. Once again, he tried to suppress the torrent of thoughts within his helm. Because at least for now, he didn’t have to worry.
The two of you were safe, locked away within his quarters at the plant. The other Autobots had filed into their home base alongside you both without a word, all retreating to their own spaces to rest and recuperate. It was more than needed following the events of the day’s earlier hours.
As he lay on his side, his optics searched every one of your features. Before, you were a mess—covered in dirt from the moment you were forced to duck for cover beneath a fallen tree in the woods. You found a change of clothes and were able to utilize one of the showers that Fanzone had offered to hire someone to fix up. You said yourself that it was a ‘godsend,’ and the look on your face at the moment confirmed that even further. You were comfortable and more relaxed now, allowing your limbs to loll out in all directions and taking the occasional deep breath every few minutes. Your eyes were closed, but he could tell that you weren’t in stasis. He gazed at your freshly-washed hair, but by now it was mostly dry and a bit fluffed up.
You genuinely looked comfortable, but still somehow tense. Bumblebee wondered what was rolling around in that organic brain of yours. It was probably something similar to what he was thinking, he figured.
So, gingerly, he reached out to you. “Hey.”
Your eyes found his optics in an instant as if you’d been snapped out of a trance. Your voice was a bit smaller than it usually was—tired. “Hey.”
After a pause, the scout curled his body a bit closer as if he wanted to whisper to you, his tone level and gentle still. “You wanna listen to my spark again?”
You stared at him for a long moment, and it was almost long enough for him to burn up from the inside out. Then you smiled, and his spark soared. “Yes, please.”
You’d said before that the sound of his spark calms you down. You’d listen to it, match your own heartbeat to it, and fall asleep comfortably. Every time you did, he could feel the way you’d eventually relax completely.
He loved it too.
So the scout leaned over, gently slid his servo beneath you, and rolled onto his back with you in-hand before he let go again. You settled yourself into a comfortable position with your head resting just next to the insignia in the center of his chassis, releasing a heavy sigh and falling limp almost immediately.
Bumblebee’s servos were still there, as if to cradle you or keep you from falling out of place. They were as gentle as they always were; a calm sense of security that neither one of you really recognized was an instinctual act. He slowed his own intakes, leveling his beating spark as it burned and flared with intense affection. He let his helm drop back so it could rest on the berth and he stared at the ceiling in silence.
As your breathing slowed, he thought of sparking up quiet conversation. He could never really stand silence for very long, but he found that moments like these were few and far between—and this silence was a comfortable one. Plus, he didn’t want to interrupt the very thing he’d just offered to you. So he did the next best thing that he figured might soothe you even further.
One of the mech’s servos reached for you again, and he started by slowly rubbing your back with one gentle digit. His touch was light, mindful of his own strength, but still firm enough to create a sense of careful pressure. He stayed locked in that action for what felt like hours, until it eventually moved to your head to find locks of your hair. One digit began to lightly twirl what he could, given the size of his servos. He remembered what you said previously—that playing with someone’s hair was one of the most relaxing things on Earth—and he wanted to deliver you that sense of comfort.
The pulsing of the spark in his chassis eventually calmed and slowed. It was rhythmic, strong, comforting—everything you wanted to hear after yet another day of chaos. The sound reminded you that he was alive, here, never going anywhere, and that you were just the same; alive.
Falling asleep to the sound of it was something you’d never grow tired of.
