Transformers Oneshots (Requests Closed)

Soundwave x Stubborn!Femme!Reader

This is for the person who said that Friday is basically the weekend fuck you alright no it's not. (I actually don't know what day it is today so fuuuckk meee)
Requested by Echofellsum
Based off of tfp

"Sick Days"

You felt sick. You weren't sure how—did Cybertronians even get sick?—but you felt like, to put it lightly, absolute shit. Your helm hurt, your tanks felt squeamish, and you thought you might hurl at any moment. But today you had monitor duty, just like everyday. Soundwave never took a sick day; he never even took a few hours off to sleep! He was constantly working. It was like he was a drone. A very smart, strong, and sentient drone.

Even if he acted like a drone, you still managed to fall in love with him. Between you working together side by side for the past several months and the smalls times that he did show emotion you managed to fall for the fragger.

You rolled your optics and continued sluggishly walking to the communications room. Primus, you felt sick. Like, gross sick, not 'cool' sick. Humans were weird sometimes.

You stepped into the communications room, stumbling slightly. You put your servo against the wall and rested on it, closing your optics and breathing until you weren't dizzy anymore. When you reopened your optics, you saw Soundwave's chassis right in front of you. You gasped, stumbling back and bending over with a groan when you got lightheaded again. Primus, you hated this feeling. Why couldn't you just lie down? It's not like anyone was making you work today, you could take the day off and—No, Soundwave wouldn't take the day off, so you wouldn't either.

You felt something tap your chin, so you squinted your optics open to glance up. Ahead of you was Soundwave, and in the corner of the vision you saw his tentacle-thing. You glared at him slightly, but didn't have the energy to do anything else.

"(Y/N): sick. Soundwave: recommends rest."

You shook your head and forced yourself to stand upright, walking past him and to the computer. "No, Soundwave. I'm fine, really."

You could feel his doubtful stare behind his mask, but was grateful that he didn't do anything besides that. You continued to work for a few hours while feeling woozy and feint. You made multiple mistakes, all of which Soundwave would fix for you before you could even notice them. Eventually you almost gave up on checking for errors knowing that Soundwave would be able to find them ten times faster than you could.

Soundwave didn't mention your sickness until it became worrying. You had collapsed at your workspace, and it took everything inside Soundwave to not rush to your side. Instead, he walked over to you as if you were anybody else on the warship. He got to you and knelt down, scanning you intently. You were severely fatigued and your fuel compartments were impressively low on energon. He was mildly surprised you had made it as long as you had in your state.

He picked you up in his long arms and carried you to your berth. He ignored everyone who gave him a second glance. Soundwave? Taking time off work to carry someone? To their berthroom? Who kidnapped their third in command and replaced him, and where is the real Soundwave?

Once the totally real Soundwave had made it to your berthroom he stepped through the metal doors and walked to your berth. He set you down and took a moment to scan the room. It was a metalic grey—like the rest of the ship—with not much decoration. There were a few datapads; some with little doodles and others with writings. Some of the datapads had English words on them, while others had Cybertronian. There was a desk and a berth, along with what humans called a 'spiny chair.'

Soundwave directed his attention back to you, frowning behind his mask. He needed to get you energon for when you woke up. He deployed Laserbeak from his chassis and stepped out of he room and down to the cafeteria. He swiftly and smoothly grabbed two energon cubes, both of which were for you, and carried them back to your berthroom.

When he made it back, he heard Laserbeak call out to him and smiled slightly. Laserbeak was one of his only living symboites, he needed to protect the drone at all costs. Especially since Soundwave had given Laserbeak a part of his spark. Soundwave didn't know if he could even survive another one of his family members dying. At this point in the war, everyone was tired and helpless. Everyone wanted the war to end besides Megatron, but no one could fight him, and the Autobots didn't trust any Cons.

Soundwave almost shook his helm and set the energon cubes on the desk in your room. Hopefully you would notice them when you awoke. Soundwave ordered Laserbeak to keep watch over you as he continued his work, and moved to leave. Just as he was about to open the doors and exit, something stopped him. He turned back to you and took an unwilling step forwards. Slowly, one by one, he found his way back to your berth. He glanced over your faceplate. Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. Every curve and plate was molded to perfection, and there was no scar in sight. Your paint job was buffed well and had a nice shine to it, and your protoform even looked soft.

He absentmindedly found himself crouching over your frame, his mask sliding up for the first time in years, and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. He pulled back and realized what he did, quickly snapping his mask down over his scarred faceplates and stepping back. Why did he do that? Why would he? This—this was weird. Why was his chassis clenching up? Was something wrong? Why did he not know what was going on? What could have—? Who could have—?

His optics slowly found their way back to your frame and he shook his helm, turning away and walking out the door. No. He refused to have any sort of feelings. Not for a mech. Not for a femme. Ever. Not now, not later.

He walked out of the room, slouched and upset. He frowned deeply behind his mask and almost stomped to the communications center. How dare his spark choose for him? He should be able to choose who and went to love, not the other way around! Who dare give this—this thing the ability to make its own decisions that effected his everyday life?

Soundwave sighed, visibly angry with everything happening. He just needed to cool down. Work a bit. Primus knows that's what helps him get his shit together. Work.