In My Head (TFP Bumblebee x Femme Reader)

7

(Y/n) startled awake to someone pounding on her door. Ah. Bumblebee.

She sprang up and stalked over, swinging it open. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, looking up at him. She was about a head shorter than him, which made it slightly awkward when it came to challenging him, but who was she to let height deter her?

"Waking you up. It's an hour past your patrol."

"Aw, scrap." She pushed past him and ran out just as Arcee drove back in. "Sorry...."

"You had a late night," the two-wheeler said. "I thought I'd take your shift." (Y/n)'s face flushed as Arcee glanced past her to Bumblebee, who had shining armor from the deep clean she'd given him as an apology without actually saying sorry.

"Yeah. Real late." She sighed. "I don't even think I'm allowed to go on patrol, so there was no point." She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. "Alright, Ratchet. What you got for me today?"

That question led to her crammed into a room with Bumblebee, pressed back to back, scrubbing the disgusting walls coated with ancient oil.

"Why hasn't this been done already?" Bumblebee griped. "I mean, I can't move!" He shoved back against (Y/n) and she hissed angrily, driving him fully against the wall.

"If you've got something to say about me, fire away," she growled, elbowing his backstruts. "Hm? Hm?"

"Alright! Sorry. Sheesh." She relented and instead startled violently scrubbing the wall. "If you scrub it any harder, you'll scrub a hole into the wall."

Clang!

~

"Hope you got that room cleaned," Ratchet said without looking up as the duo trailed out, armor stained with oil and dried soap suds.

"Eventually," (Y/n) said tiredly. She made her way back to her quarters and face planted onto her berth, groaning.

"You need a wash." She turned her helm and looked at Bumblebee with half lidded optics.

"You don't say," she mumbled. She opened her optics further to stare at him as he took a few more steps into the room.

"I'm...going to do something nice for you."

"Uh, what?"

"You heard me. Don't make me rethink it. I don't need a recharge; I wasn't the one throwing punches."

"So...you're going to bring be cleaning supplies?"

"I'm going to help you clean yourself up."

"What's the catch?"

"You stop hitting me in tiny spaces where I can't turn around."

"I'll try." She turned her helm away and heard him leave a moment later. She half expected him to bail on her as he'd done before, but to her immense surprise, ten minutes later, he returned.

"Alright, sit up and sit still," he said. (Y/n) huffed and pushed herself up.

"Is this going to happen again tomorrow?" she said. "Wasn't too long ago I was cleaning you."

"Oh, so you need an oil now, too?"

"No."

"Good, 'cause I'm not sticking around long enough to see that through." His cheeks lifted as he smirked and she rolled her optics. "Yes. Your own medicine." 

"You know, you could just ditch me at the carwash. Raf could probably detail my wheels if I really wanted him to. I'm sure Bulkhead would love to have a water fight with you as a creative way of cleaning you and him up. He's due for a wash, anyway. We all are."