#sunstreaker transformers

finally, your eyes tear away from the papers to meet his, and then Magnus is whacked with the realization he has to stand firm here. you must’ve been at this for hours, fatigue and enervation translating well enough from your gaze and pouring down the rest of your body. “Sorry. Run that by me again?” 

“I will do no such thing,” he’s good at being the bad guy, the one who has to play fair and look out for others. but for you? he’s willing to beg, stand firm in seeing you get some much deserved, and earned sleep. “This will be here when you awake. Rest.” 

your pout works on him, and the worst part of it all is you must know it does. “Five more minutes?” you plead, trying your best to stifle a yawn that Magnus sees far too easily. every bone in your body begs you to relent, but stubbornness finds you once more as you think of all the studying that needs to be done before tomorrow. 

“No.” he’s caged you between two massive hands, leaning forward until you’re forced to meet his stare and not the copious amounts of work spread out around the berth. “You cannot use my own tactics against me. Bed, now.”

sunstreaker

something wakes Sunstreaker up about three hours into his recharge, and with little investigation he comes to find you on the other side of the room. after you’d said three hours ago you’d join him in ten minutes, that turned out to be the biggest lie in the world. disoriented and mildly irritated, his brow furrows when he calls your name, confused as to why you jump in surprise. everything about you breathes burnout, eyes glassy as they eventually lock with his across the room. were you so consumed and entranced by that textbook that you hadn’t heard him grumble under his breath before calling out to you? how dare such a stupid object hold your attention and not him, slowly losing his already depleted patience. 

“Get over here.” Sunstreaker hums, trying once to be nice instead of brash. he’s come to take a second to mull over his words before they leave his voice box, trying his damndest to say what he means the first time. yet, this time, instead of pulling away from your study materials, you only dive deeper. 

“I’ll be right there,” you whisper, as if he was still in and out of recharge. “Just have to finish this chapter, and-” you squeak as he abruptly stands from the berth, lumbering over to where you were sitting on his desk. fumbling with the textbook, your finger saves the page before you close it over, trying your best to appear defiant and adamant, but losing miserably. “What are you doing?” 

“What am I doing?” Sunstreaker counters, expecting no reply. “You said ‘ten more minutes’ hours ago. Bed, or I throw that book.” 

you appear miserable. the happiness that normally contradicts his irritable behavior is nowhere to be found, something that concerns him greatly. you had mentioned earlier in the week about an upcoming test that was stressing you out, but now this studying venture has crossed over into territory that enrages Sunstreaker. you weren’t taking care of yourself, unworried about how a newfound weariness preoccupies you. whenever you speak ill of yourself or doubt your abilities, it seizes him so greatly that he can’t focus on anything else. don’t you know how much he loves you, and knows you’ll do great things, no matter what? 

somehow, you know he means it, sighing in defeat. “Fine, fine.” with a small smile, you close the book over with a defeated sigh. “Sorry. The test is in two days.” 

to your surprise, Sunstreaker mumbles his words, but the sincerity is overwhelming. “I’ll try to help you study tomorrow. But now, bed, and I mean it.” 

hound

you’ve certainly done a lot of typing in the past couple of hours, Hound has noticed. enough that with each hour that slips by, it’s time for him to wrap his tasks up and fully join your company, excited to hear about what you’ve been up to and relax into the evening with no issue. except, that’s mostly thrown out the window as he takes in your body language, surveying the way your palm runs over your face and rubs at your eyes, only to return to your laptop seconds later. the light from the screen illuminates your features, but all Hound can focus on is how your shoulders slump forward, a glasiness overtaking your eyes that he can’t quite decipher the reason behind. you’re clearly spent, drained of the day's responsibilities as they now carry over into time that should be spent away from the computer. 

“y/n?” he tries, using the tip of his digit to run down the length of your leg, vying for your attention, selfish as that may be to admit. “Y’alright? Busy day?” 

for a moment, you pull away from the laptop, blinking wildy before realizing it was only Hound. everything in you yearned to just shut the computer and set this aside for another time, but the idea of being ahead tomorrow entranced you far too much. “I’m good! I’d just like to finish this up, I swear I’m almost done.” famous last words. 

your slight startle at his touch and words worried him, the way you appear so disconnected from reality as you are solely focused on typing a report that didn’t need to be completed at this very moment. though your overworked and tired demeanor concerns him greatly, Hound is willing to yield if only to respect your wishes. he cares so deeply for you that perhaps just this once, he’d overlook the fact that you probably really needed some shut-eye now. it’s like overriding a code, Hound feels as if he’s programmed to look out for everyone and their health, you always residing as his top priority. always number one on his list, finding that sometimes you unintentionally neglect your wellbeing, himself guilty of similar behaviors. 

but then you don’t stick to your original plans. more time has escaped you, and Hound’s fretting has skyrocketed to the point where he isn’t ashamed to implore you to get some rest. “Yer exhausted,” he rumbles, broad shoulders drooping as you tear your eyes away from the screen to massage at your temples once more. “Don’t overwork yourself. It ain’t worth it, ah know it first hand.”