#obsessed!bumblebee

[muletia]

miniformers is taking over my brain. I need to cuddle mini Starscream, bumblebee, Megatron, and knockout and kiss their little foreheads, Aghdfbsjfhsb I’m going insane

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝟑 ༘⋆✿

bumblebee, starscream, knockout

word count: 1250

A little manipulator (affectionate), who has absolutely no objections to using his charm to coax a few kisses or cuddles out of you

Bee knows he's adorable. He’s well aware of the effect his big, puppy-like optics have on you, and if he really wanted to, he could ask for absolutely anything, and you’d agree without hesitation. So it's no surprise that when he gets shrunk down, you find yourself completely incapable of refusing him anything

At first, however, he approaches the idea of using this to his advantage with restraint — at least until he fully accepts that being tiny is his new reality and that he has to learn how to deal with this new perspective. He stays close because he feels most comfortable in your company and can hide behind you whenever Optimus' towering height suddenly becomes overwhelming

Exploiting your bursts of affection comes later when he realizes just how hard it is for you to resist showering his entire face with kisses and scooping him into your arms at every possible opportunity. He enjoys this reversal of roles, especially since he used to be the cuddle-bug in your relationship. Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s going to give up hugging you on his own terms — you often find yourself with a few extra pounds clinging to your leg whenever Bee feels like getting some affection

All it takes is for you to get momentarily distracted — maybe you’re trying to discuss this strange height-changing situation with Ratchet, sharing your observations and thoughts, when Bee is already tightening his servo around the sleeve of your shirt, demanding your attention. It's convenient and much more effective than verbally calling for you because the moment he tugs at your clothing, he’s guaranteed a kiss or a pat on the helm

He follows you everywhere and wants to be a part of all your plans for the day. You could be working, and Bee will still be cuddled up against you, finally able to sit on your lap without worrying about crushing it. I can totally see him crawling under your hoodie too, trying to get even closer to you, to experience a level of closeness he never could before

He won’t mind staying like this forever if it means receiving affection from you at every possible moment <3

He bolts before you can even let out a single coo in his direction

Starscream absolutely despises this new state of affairs. He’s become defenseless, easy to overlook, far too vulnerable to aggression from other bots who, in this form, could wipe him out in a nanoklik. He’s fallen to the very bottom of the food chain, which means that under no circumstances can he let himself be seen

He’d like to hide from you too, and from your untamed need to treat him like a sparkling, but the most he can manage is transforming and flying up to a higher level, where he can observe you safely from above without having to endure your cooing about how "cute" and "adorable" he is

That doesn’t mean he’ll stay silent, oh no. You’re going to hear plenty of complaints and theatrics, dramatic laments about the horror of remaining in this pitiful form forever, and screeching about how humans can possibly function while being tiny all the time. He’ll also expect sympathy, tears even, shed over his misfortune, so don’t think you can just ignore his unproductive, egocentric monologue. The moment you stop paying attention, he’ll call you out for it, accusing you of not caring, of being selfish — do you even want to help him? Or do you secretly hope he’ll stay this pathetic size forever just so you can continue tormenting him?

He just needs some time before he exhausts himself with all the dramatics and the consequences of his sudden size change finally catch up to him. The helplessness, the inability to fend off sudden threats, the need for support, because there’s no one else he can rely on but you. And so, he descends from his safe height and returns to you, warning you that he absolutely refuses to be treated like a sparkling

It’s a shame that his whole independent and self-sufficient facade crumbles the moment you press a kiss to his forehead, right at the base of his red crest, and coo sweetly, murmuring that you just can’t help yourself. Starscream manages one more outburst before another kiss silences him a little. And the next one makes him temporarily abandon all plans of immediately finding a way to return to his normal size

Perhaps he can allow himself to be adored by you for just a little while, can’t he?

That little while seems to stretch into eternity as you pull him close, hugging him tightly, unable to resist with such an adorable mech right in front of you. And maybe, just for a moment, he lets himself feel loved, without having to initiate touch himself, completely absorbed in the affection you pour into the touch-starved void in his spark

Unfortunately, he quickly remembers that while you make him feel safe, he can’t allow himself to stay in this form. No matter how wonderful it is to be wrapped up in your arms, he needs to return to his normal size — not just to match his ego but also to protect you and have any chance at victory

He hates this whole situation just as much as the rest of them — until he realizes you’re much more willing to give him attention in this form

Knockout values compliments from you and absolutely loves receiving them. He relishes every second of your attention, using it to stroke his enormous ego. Especially since, normally, you’re not too eager to spend time with him after he so boldly barged into your life and unilaterally decided that he was the most important part of it

So this sudden shrinking? It’s an unmissable opportunity for him to bask in the attention you now lavish upon him — even if, after a while, your incessant cooing starts to grate on his nerves when it’s not about his attractiveness but rather about how “cute” he is. Could you go back to praising his exquisitely polished finish? He didn’t spend all that time buffing himself to perfection just for you to completely disregard it in favor of fawning over his “adorable” faceplate

And while he drinks in your compliments like the finest energon, your constant, relentless attempts to touch him with your dirty, greasy human hands? Those are much less appreciated. You’re smudging his flawless paint job, leaving fingerprints all over him. Do you really have the patience to keep polishing him over and over again? Surely, at some point, you’ll get bored of trying to hug him and smother his entire faceplate and helm with kisses, right?

But when your wave of affection actually subsides, Knockout suddenly realizes that he appreciates your attention in all its forms. He immediately goes on the offensive, dynamically trying to draw your focus back to him, even if that means sacrificing his freshly polished shine and straddling your stomach just to pin you down and squeeze a few more kisses out of you

Oh, and by the way, he's definitely taking a few selfies with your phone. Just in case he ever needs to blackmail you with his “adorable little face,” as you so fondly called it, should you ever refuse to visit him on the Nemesis

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

to be treasured

[vhsstank]

This is blitzbee right

[archie-sunshine]

callin me a brat when I'm- (bumpin that)

[littledemo0n]

Even more memes inspired by @whatwooshkai 's fanfic☆

[aeodonii]

Ive been consumed by yuri there’s no hope left for me I fear

[battiegutz]

he pisses me off soooo bad💔

[quetzaly-ameyali]

Elita-1 and Badassatron

Wooo more chibis!!!

[mrmeepsmadmind]

i love when ppl draw bumblebee like the happy little creachure he is but also i love when people draw bumblebee like he's had 500 beers in the last 1 hour and still the pain won't even ebb

[starscream-is-my-wife]

Pt 2 of that milk comic I posted where Ratchet and a baby Bee got stranded on a planet during a mission

Pt 1 here!

Cw: sort of Canibalism

I dunno how taboo cannibalism is for transformers because of how energon is both blood and food. I got really curious on how that worked, probably not as much as a taboo for humans but I did write this after finishing dungeon meshi so my perception on it could be a alot more nonchalant haha, I’d like to think because they haven’t experienced the horrors of war yet Ratchet probably isn’t used to survival mode yet so it would affect him a bit more

[satyrn-exe]

more radiowave propaganda sketches :]

[muletia]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 — [𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏] ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

obsessed!b-127 x human!reader

summary: the joy of having a new friend in sub-level 50 quickly transforms into something dangerous and destructive and above all, addictive, as B-127’s life becomes inextricably intertwined with yours. to the point that he can no longer imagine it without you

cw: angst, fluff, slight obsessive behaviour but it will get much, much worse later, isolation, captivity very poor take on sci-fi tech

word count: 2300

future chapters probably won't be this long but we shall see. this is just a introduction to show how I want to torture bee. i plan on writing a few chapters max...

"To hell with this planet," you curse bitterly.

The reconnaissance mission was a failure. Instead of gathering data about the planet where your onboard ship had detected deposits of "living metal," you wandered through the nooks of a city inhabited by steel giants, trying not to be noticed, or trampled.

You crawl through a tight tunnel blindly, with no real idea where it will lead or whether you'll ever manage to return to your crashed ship. Your backpack, stuffed with supplies, scrapes against the low ceiling, making movement harder, but you have to push forward. Find a quiet but not claustrophobic corner to strategize how to escape from here. Return home — the firmly set goal pulls you onward. Eventually, you're forced to descend lower, squeezing between pipes and perpendicular walls of metal until you see a larger tunnel below.

You jump down, looking around for danger, but see none, allowing yourself a moment's respite. You adjust the oxygen hoses connected to the futuristic, tiny machine producing the precious gas tucked in your backpack, but that's all you manage before you hear the sound of metal striking metal. Alarmed, you stand upright, looking toward the source of the noise, which approaches dangerously fast and quickly takes the form of massive pieces of metal barreling straight toward you.

You don’t even have time to dodge as a hard wall slams into you, forcing the air from your lungs, dragging you forward.

And then down, as the floor collapses beneath you, and you grab onto the metal, bracing for a hard landing.

Silence pierces the processor. It seeps into the deepest cracks between cables and takes root, reminding of loneliness. Painfully and mercilessly, it drives home the fact that sub-level fifty is a hell where the concept of time does not exist. In truth, no concept exists here except sorting trash and watching it burn. Day after day, hour by hour, the same routine. Sort, reject, try not to go insane. The bot who designed this prison did an excellent job if his main goal was to drive everyone who had the misfortune to end up here into madness.

B-127 doesn’t remember the last time he spoke to someone real. A month? A year? Time had long since lost its linearity, looping and zigzagging aimlessly. Did Iacon still look the same? Maybe it had changed during his absence. Maybe it was even more beautiful now. Or maybe it no longer existed at all, and he would never find out.

Enough numbing silence. He’s had enough.

"We’ll get out of here someday," he mutters. "Right, Steve?"

The response is... silence.

"It’s just a matter of time," he laughs nervously. "Everything will be fine."

He wraps his arms around himself. Barely two kliks pass before B-127 starts rambling to his imaginary friend about everything and nothing. Dreams he’s talked about dozens of times, the past life that brought him here. Anything to kill the silence, to prevent it from creeping deeper into his processor, because then it would force him to think. It was his enemy, an opponent he tried to knock out as quickly as possible before it landed a blow. One blow was all it took to remind him where he was and how he got here.

What a failure he was.

But fortunately, he doesn’t have to think now. Not when his glossa works tirelessly, holding conversations with three entities at once. It’s a good distraction from the disgusting, depressing reality. It doesn’t solve the problem, but it makes him feel better, more valuable than the trash he sorts. He knows no other way. None existed in these conditions.

A new, unfamiliar sound hidden among the metal hitting the conveyor belt pulls him out of his self-deprecating thoughts. Softer? Less hollow. The curious mech reacts immediately, digging through the junk, quickly searching for the source before the entire batch ends up in the furnace. What he finds surpasses all his expectations.

His servo shoots forward to grab the anomaly. He catches it and pulls it closer to himself, stepping back a few paces from the conveyor, wanting to examine the discovery in peace.

A living thing. A real, moving organism. Tiny — it could fit entirely in his servo — but alive. Soft, strange, but alive. It kicks frantically, clearly displeased with being held, but B-127 can’t let go, utterly fascinated.

“Wow,” he whispers, scanning the unknown.

On the surface, you’re very similar anatomically — two arms, two legs, optics, and an intake in the same place on the faceplate — but everything else is fascinatingly different.

“What are you, little one?” he asks, and the creature in his hand trembles. “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you! Ugh, I’m so, so sorry. Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you, I promise!”

His attempt to soothe the little alien ends in failure when your tiny servo smacks his forearm. Then another hit and another, as if something gently brushed against his mesh. It was... pleasant? He thinks. Your servos, though anatomically identical to his, were much more delicate. Softer. Strange. But pleasant.

On your helm reside odd, firmer yet still springy... cables? "Hehe, how funny. What are these?" He doesn’t even know what to call the strange structure but knows he wants to learn about it. Ignoring your attempts to push him away and disregarding the puzzling language you use, he dips a single digit into your mane, exploring your exoticness. Again, it’s... pleasant. Your entire body is delightful to the touch. As his excitement grows, a smile spreads across his faceplate.

“Wow, you’re so soft. Is your whole body like this? That’s so strange, I’ve never encountered soft before. Can I touch lower? Please? May I? I want to see.” He fires off a series of questions, even though he knows he won’t get answers. He doesn’t mind; he’s long since gotten used to it.

He presses a digit into your cheek, for which you strike him, but he pays no mind to your aggression, nor to the glare you send, brimming with fury. You say something to him, but he can only guess what colorful phrases you’re throwing his way. Besides, his fascination leaves no room for worry or offense.

“What’s this?” he asks, brushing a digit against the tubes coming out of the two holes on your faceplate. You slap his hand away harder this time. The message is clear — he is absolutely not to touch those. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. You’re feisty for such a tiny thing. I like you already,” he grins.

The digit slides lower, reaching your plush armor. “Heh, you really are soft all over!” He chuckles, hooking a digit on your collar, but you squeak, stopping him from satisfying his curiosity. Immediately, he lets go, infected by your fear.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must be squeezing too hard,” he loosens his grip, completely misunderstanding the reason for your panic. “Are you okay? I hope you’re okay. I really didn’t mean to hurt you. What’s your name? Who are you? An alien? You must be an alien. Or maybe some strange mini-bot? Oh, this is so exciting; I’m so glad I found you!”

You shake your tiny helm, clearly conveying that you have no idea what he’s saying. And while you don’t give him a verbal, stimulating response, you offer an active reaction. Primitive, but you’ve communicated, filling his spark with unrestrained, pure joy. You gave him a sliver of normalcy, fulfilling the bare minimum that had been taken from him.

Steve had been excellent company, but he couldn’t shake his head. He couldn’t hit his forearm to communicate discomfort. Steve was a figment of his imagination. But you, oh, you. You were real.

B-127 desperately needed realness.

He realizes he’s been staring at your optics this whole time. And you’ve been staring back into his. A strange embarrassment washes over him, though it’s incapable of overshadowing the elation he feels in your presence. Even though you’ve only known each other for a few short kliks.

He averts his optics for a moment, but barely a nanoklik passes before he’s looking at you again, unable to satisfy his curiosity. “Did I mention I’m glad I found you? Because I really am. So very, very glad. I promise I’m good company. You won’t get bored with me; really, I’ll make sure of it. Don’t worry, I’ll talk for both of us, I don’t mind that we can’t understand each other. Hey, do you think we could learn to communicate over time? That would be amazing!”

Suddenly, he smacks his servo against his forehead. He doesn’t notice how the motion makes you flinch with fear.

“Oh, right, where are my manners? I should introduce you to the others.”

He heads toward the table with his other companions in misery and sets you on the surface, taking a seat himself. He moves as close to you as possible, and you take advantage of the momentary freedom from his massive servo to dart to the opposite side.

“Hey, wait! Don’t run away!”

He catches you again in his servo, receiving a punch to his thumb as thanks. Unfazed by your aggression, he merely smiles, his excitement at having a real companion still vividly dictating his body language. He can barely stop himself from trembling with joy.

“Don’t do that again, alright?” he laughs nervously. “I haven’t even introduced you to everyone yet.”

He gestures toward each of his friends, introducing you to them one by one, all the while wearing a broad, excited grin that doesn’t waver, even when you shoot him a pitying look. He chooses to completely ignore it, preferring to focus on the other components that make up who you are. You may not be a Cybertronian, but it was wonderful to finally meet someone real. Someone alive, who brought light to this dismal, lonely place. Someone who filled him with emotions far more vibrant than sadness and despair.

“I’m going to let you go now, but don’t run away from me, okay? Can I count on you? You won’t leave me, will you? I don’t want you to leave me.”

Slowly, he loosens his digits, keeping a close watch on your body language for any signs that you might flee. His fears of you running away materialize the moment the last finger releases you. Immediately, you turn and dash toward the other end of the table.

“Oh no, no! Please don’t run away! I won’t hurt you, I promise!”

But, just as before, you don’t make it more than a few meters before his servo blocks your path. A second one joins from the opposite side, caging you in.

“Well, now you’ve got nowhere to run.” He grins, attempting to convey friendliness through his body language. “I’m not your enemy. I won’t hurt you,” he tries again, with the same fruitless result.

You observe him closely, searching for any hint of deception, a change of mind, or a sudden crushing motion.

“See? I’m not going to do anything to you.”

Without breaking eye contact, you step backward, increasing the distance between you until you deem it safe. Crossing your arms over your chest, you glare at him, and B-127’s grin widens even further. You’re no longer trying to flee in panic — he considers this a huge breakthrough in your relationship!

“Oh, I’m so happy! I’m finally going to have a real friend. No offense, guys,” he says, glancing at the scraps of junk. The interaction draws a subtle, sympathetic smile from you, though B-127 doesn’t seem to notice as he turns back to you, his dazzling, excited smile still firmly in place. “I’ve waited so long for this, for someone real. I thought I’d never see another living soul again. Oh, Primus must have sent you to me. You’ll see, I’ll take great care of you. We’ll have such a wonderful time together! I have so many amazing stories to share with you!”

Automatically, he scoots closer but freezes when he notices you don’t share his enthusiasm.

“Sorry, I got carried away,” he laughs nervously. “I’m just so happy. I can’t wait to tell you everything about myself.” His pedes tap cheerfully against the ground. “And then you can tell me everything about you, right? You… you? Oh, Primus, I didn’t ask for your name! What should I call you? I’m B-127, but you can call me Bee. And you are?” He points a servo at you, but all he gets in response is a shake of your head. For a single nanoklik, his excitement falters, but it immediately returns. “Oh, right, I forgot. Well then, I’ll just talk for both of us. I’ll call you ‘friend,’ okay? Friend?”

His aft can’t sit still. At last, after such excruciatingly long isolation, he’s found a friend — someone he can speak to and expect a reaction from. Any reaction, no matter how small.

He rests his helm on his outstretched arm, unable to tear his optics away from you. He wants to feel your softness in his servo again. To wrap himself in it, to anchor himself in the incredible sensation of having a companion.

His digit twitches, a prelude to catching you in his servo and pulling you close again, but he doesn’t want to ruin what the two of you have built so far. Especially since your relationship is still in its infancy, a mere beginning of something greater and more beautiful. He feels certain it will become something wonderful.

“I don’t know how you ended up here or why, but thank you for showing up. I promise to be a good friend to you.”

For the first time in so long, he’s looking forward to experiencing what tomorrow will bring.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

momlita

[bummblebe]

Adorable Too

TfP Bumblebee x Reader

Word Count: 1,783

Summary: You're all too infatuated with a certain yellow mech, much to his initial confusion to your change in attitude.

Song choices <3

> Fool - Frankie Cosmos

> Glue Song - Beabadoobee

You weren't sure how long exactly you had these feelings for, but after discovering them as of recent, they've never left your mind since.

You can only pray that your revelation of admiration to a specific scout hasn't resulted in any noticeable changes in your behavior. Once you came to the conclusion (after catching yourself shamelessly fawning over him in silence during a most recent mission), like a hopeless coward you did.. absolutely nothing about it. You considered limiting visits to the base to lessen the chances of making a fool of yourself, but that might've looked more suspicious if anything.

So, here you are, at the autobot base trying desperately too hard to push down the feelings and pretend that you didn't discover anything major about yourself in the past few days.

It was proving very difficult with Bumblebee standing right behind the designated human-sized couch you, Raf, and Miko were all sitting on, the other two competing against each other in some racing game and completely oblivious to your internal battle. Their game was the last thing you could pay attention to; his presence being right there had you feel like your back was on fire, any sitting position you readjusted to never felt comfortable enough for longer than ten seconds, a lingering sense of uncomfortable insecurity engulfed your every move as you couldn't help but constantly think of the possibility of him just perceiving you. Crazy to think that a couple days ago you never would've thought twice about minute things like where your hands should be resting, whether your hair was in the way or a mess, or both. What's the battle, the struggle, one might ask? It's being on a couch.

You've never had an issue sitting on a couch before--you would swear on it, ..right now just wasn't a great example of that.

After realizing that maybe your sitting is a little too rigid for what's meant to be and is a casual hangout between friends, you silently take a breath and slowly but surely start to lean back to meet with the comfortable plush of the couch.

Though, rather than being met with the couch, instead your back made contact with the scout's servos.

Instantly, as if a shock was sent throughout your body, you flinched forward in surprise, disconnecting the contact immediately. You noticed the spot on your back that unintentionally touched his hand felt the hottest, almost as if it were a burn; nothing bad, just in the sense of an overwhelming warmth. 

A whir in the tone of a question sounded from the scout behind you, and in quick thinking you tried to play off your unexpected reaction in a continued swing to hoist yourself up from the couch. Reaching your hands above your head, you gave out the pressure in your lower back in a satisfying stretch, not realizing the words he was saying.

"Uh- ..Sorry about that, Bee. Didn't mean to bump you," you spoke apologetically, turning your face so that he wouldn't just be looking at your back, but you couldn't get your eyes to leave the railing to properly make eye contact.

Bee responded with affirmative albeit hesitant beeps.

That seemed to have done the trick.

Without removing her eyes from the screen, Miko tilted her head towards you. "Where ya headed off to?"

Quick, come up with something.

"Oh, you know.. 'just going to go get something from.. from our pantry real quick yeah- you guys want me to get you anything while I'm there?"

"Nah, 'm good thanks," Miko uttered, clearly preoccupied.

Nailed it.

"Raf?" You queried next. Unlike Miko, Raf actually looked at you to answer your offer. "Oh, I'm alright [Name], thank you." You smiled and with that, turned to the descending ladder (and judging from the groan of frustration paired alongside an exclamation of victory from behind you, Raf's politeness appeared to be his detriment in-game). Just as you were about to turn your body to climb down, a few familiar beeps stopped you. Looking up, Bumblebee stood right in front of you, in front of the ladder, with his head tilt to the side.

The only words you were able to pick up on were '-want.. ... help you?'

Judging by his now outstretched metallic palm just below you, you filled in the rest that he just offered to take you to the bottom of the ladder himself. 'Do you want me to help you?' it was probably was.

This was nothing out of the ordinary, he's done this for you many times before. The problem came from you not knowing how to properly act anymore. Any other day you would've gladly accepted without thinking twice about it, and right now is mostly the same, except now you're thinking too much about it.

You nodded your head, “Oh sure, thanks Bee. I’d love for you to help me.” 

Bee, though with no visible mouth, gave a smile evident through his bright optics as he cooed a few excited chirps and beeps, you stepping off the platform and now in his clutches. 

You looked up, returning an innocent smile towards him.

Looks will forever be deceiving because internally you were in a panic.

Why did you say ‘love?’ You’d love for him to help you? How obvious can you be? You kept your eyes closed, not daring to look at him as you basked in your inner embarrassment.

You felt the small rush in your stomach as Bumblebee leisurely descended his hand down upon the lower ground as gently as he could. Stepping off, you shot Bee a thumbs up and quickly trodded off to the small room directly underneath the upper landing that you and your fellow humans deemed the 'pantry,' a place where you four kept a stash of snacks and drinks. It was the only remaining human-sized room (more like closet) that wasn't being used so why not make it a snack hole? Truly, it started with Miko keeping her snacks there 'temporarily' (as she swore) but it soon escalated to you, Jack, and occasionally Raf contributing to the snack haven; now the four of you have sustenance at your disposal whenever any of you visited the base.

Even with all that, upon entering you nearly forgot that you lied to get here so you could avoid an awkward situation and you were stumped on what to actually bring back.

...

"What's the matter Bee?"

The mech looked up to face Rafael, apparently during a game intermission as Miko was checking something on her flip phone. After hearing the question though, she looked up, all too interested. "Why're you asking? Did Bumblebee say something?" Raf only shook his head, "No it's not about anything he said I just thought he--..well--are you feeling down, Bee?" He redirected his attention back to the scout.

Bumblebee shook his helm, waving his servos in front of him. Beeps and churs left his chassis in a series pertaining to an explanation.

"What about [Name]..?"

Miko scrambled on her knees, fully on the couch as she faced the yellow bot with intrigue. "What's it Raf?" she questioned in ardor. "Bee's just a little worried about [Name]," Raf translated. Miko frowned, "How come? They seemed alright to me?"

A continued stream of robotic whirs and boops left Bee with different dips in tones natural of someone speaking, even if unconventionally.

"So? What's he saying?" Miko asked in loud, exaggerated whisper.

Raf, in response to Bee, tilted his head, "Different how?"

"Beep, beep zip. Zrr beep kr."

"Really? I guess that's a little weird.. Think they're feeling okay?"

Miko bounced in her spot on the couch impatiently, "Hello? Gonna fill me in yet?"

Raf gave an exhausted sigh. "Bee just noticed that [Name] seemed really dismissive of him today is all."

Miko rolled her eyes and whisked her body around, slumping in the couch and returning her attention back to her flip phone. "Eh, I wouldn't dwell."

"How are you so confident?" Raf asked, curious at how quick the girl just dismissed the concern.

Miko tilted her head towards him, "Come on, there's no way they hate Bee or anything."

At this, Bumblebee's optics swirled for a good few seconds. Realization hit when he gave a few worried beeps, looking away from the two other humans in disquiet. Raf was about to give comfort to the distressed mech. "In case they think you're annoying or something just be extra nice to them! That'll help," Miko advised wisely. Raf winced at her choice of wording. "I really don't think that's all too necessary.. especially considering-"

Bee was quick to intercept and hastily utter determined whirs and beeps in response.

Suddenly, you emerged from underneath the main platform, head peaking out after climbing the ladder, not having been paying any attention to the conversation that had just ended. You huffed yourself over the edge, arms hoisting towards the platform, still below the upper-ground level. In your hands was a pack of honey-graham crackers.

Honey --> ....bee..

Ah. You winced at the unintentional yet reaching similarity to who's been on your mind all day.

At least it wasn't that obvious. Hopefully.

A few beeps from behind you entered your ears and before you could even register what they meant, you were gently lifted off of the ladder and quickly placed fully on the grounding. You continued to stand there, snack still in your hand, as you slowly turned your head to face the yellow mech. "Thanks- thanks Bee but uh- uhm.. what was that for?" You cursed yourself for the stuttering, begging that your red face wasn't as noticeable as you're imagining it is to be.

He only responded with a few of those charming sound signals of his, optics spiraling as he did, to which you couldn't stop the smile creeping up to your face. From the sidelines, Raf and Miko exchanged unknowing glances, the first shrugging his shoulders in uncertainty towards the other.

You shook your head and swiftly returned to your spot on the couch. You sighed. "Adorable..," giving the quietest of mutters as it was drowned out by your expertly timed opening of your retrieved snack.

Or so you thought.

Bee's optics gave a spin, the teal lights from his eyes dilating.

After a few seconds of shocked silence, he chirped out six excited beeps, and Raf nearly stumbled in the resumed video game (much to his dismay and probably to Miko's pleasure.

You also nearly choked mid-chewing, face growing hotter as your heartbeat intercepted within your eardrum.

The only words you were able to pick up from him were 'adorable too.'

End Notes: Fact about this one-shot: When the reader accidentally bumped Bee on the couch, his hand was actually purposefully reaching for their hair to try to help pushing it aside because he wanted the reader to be comfortable after he noticed they kept shifting so much. I think it's sweet!

[ruindroddy]

*Spontaneously appears*

*Fades back into the darkness*

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

I saw some posting playing, what if. and what if sam somehow (being Archibal Witwicky descendant) activities cybertron program like 'aww it's so cute it's mine now and I will take care of it',

So every cybertron peoples will like want sam. When bumblebee first met sam, he almost not let sam get out from his alt mode and when he in bipedal mode, bee will lift him and nuzzle him with his face. Other Autobots feel sam but they can hold it.

And it's also same with decepticons. And it will be hilarious that in mission city, that rather take cube Megatron want sam and optimus not allowing it. It's like "the human is mine prime, I don't care about Allspark". Then optimus say " no, he is mine, you take the Allspark and I take sam"

OP and Megatron will to much busy who have sam rtager take Allspark

This took me a second to make heads or tails of but yes! I read an incomplete fic like this once and I’m so sad it never got finished so!

I reckon Bee, Optimus and Megatron are more susceptible to it because of varying reasons.

Bee, because he’s young still. Doesn’t know much else other than the war so when he’s met with Sam, a strange, squishy little being he’s never seen the likes of before and feels this surge of adoration and fierce protection he’s not really one to go against it.

He’s too curious about the feelings to reject them. Wants to know why this human is making him feel like this when he’s only ever really felt it for his leader and long time friends.

He falls into them quickly when he gets to know Sam though. Likes this bright and funny boy and becomes all too willing to do anything for him, can’t help but hold him close when he’s in bipedal and not wanting to let him out when he’s in alt.

Optimus has been alone for too long. Has been a leader and has held himself back from most things for eons. So meeting Sam? It very nearly throws all those efforts out the window. He has to fight not to take Sam away all the time and grit his denta when he spots Bee being as affectionate as he wants.

It’s normal for those two to be affectionate since they’ve grown close in the short time they’ve known each other. Optimus can’t have that though and it drives him crazy sometimes.

Now Megatron? He is unbelievably upset that he’s feeling this way for one of those squishy little things that had kept him in captivity for years. Is all denial and hate until Mission City.

He gives in to them in part because he admires the young man for his bravery and stubbornness, even if it’s based in stupidity. But it’s also in part because he can see how much the Autobots are trying to protect him and keep him away from Megatron and his underlings.

He can tell Optimus is pissed that Megatron is suddenly showing more interest in taking Sam than the All Spark, and the minuscule amount of satisfaction he gets from that is surprising.

To only Sam’s surprise, the ensuing fight is more about taking him than the All Spark and he’s not too sure just how to feel about it.