a/n: wrote some more bee x reader bc olivia rodrigo’s new song honeybee has inspired me.
synopsis: falling for each other and distractions.
———
Bumblebee was starting to understand why Optimus originally hadn’t wanted him to get close to any of the humans that resided on the planet he helped protect. He had a job to do and a lot to worry about. He was a very important part of Team Prime and skilled at what he did. They needed him. He couldn’t afford to be distracted or to have his mind linger elsewhere when he needed to be focused.
Yet, here he was, driving towards the coordinates Optimus sent him only thinking of you. He should be mentally preparing for what was about to come. He should be strategizing or figuring out a plan to handle whoever was at his destination but all he could focus on was who he was leaving behind.
He knew he’d be back with you soon. This wouldn’t take long and the trip wasn’t too far away this time. He knew you were safe and would be waiting for him. He simply just enjoyed thinking about you even though he shouldn’t.
He met you a couple months ago at the drive in theater. You started working the late shift and for some reason you caught his eye. He frequently visited the theater and he loved movies but he made a point to visit more often when you showed up. You also noticed the blonde guy in the yellow and black camaro that quickly became a regular visitor on your shift. He couldn’t stop himself from talking to you and don’t even get him started on the first time he made you laugh. He wanted to know you. It was dangerous and unknown territory for him but he felt that there was something special about you.
After weeks of conversations you actually made the move first, asking him if he’d like to join you to a concert at a local venue. You had an extra ticket and didn’t want to go alone. He couldn’t say no to you.
He picked you up so you could drink and he could be the DD. You danced and sang with him, tangling your fingers through his, up his arms and eventually around his neck. His holoform’s skin tingled where you touched him. He never wanted you to stop. He’d never experienced anything like this. Like you. When the show was over, he took you home and parked in front of your apartment. You leaned over his center console, drunk as can be, and met his gaze for far longer than normal. You saw something he was trying to hide, something he didn’t want to hide from you. You knew it and he knew it. “You’re different.” You say bravely. “I don’t know what it is but I like it. I had fun with you tonight.”
“I did too,” Bee replies. He is telling the truth but putting it lightly. He can’t recall ever having so much fun with anyone ever in his life. He would replay tonight over and over in his processor. He selfishly hoped he got more nights with you.
He thinks about what you said for the next two weeks until he decides to take you to an abandoned warehouse near your home and lets you in on what he is. He shows you his true form and at first you don’t speak. You’re not screaming (he thinks that’s good) but you also seem troubled by something. He’s knelt down to be eye level with you, his optics looking into your green eyes. “I trust you… I needed you to know.. the truth.” His radio sputters.
“Just give me time?”
It took you a week to call him. He had spent said week losing his processor assuming he’d never hear from you again. He’d scared you away and he tried his damndest to convince himself it was for the best. Maybe you deserved better people in your life than someone that may only cause you trouble. That is until his comms rang and you were the one calling. “Hey.” He answered way too quickly but he wasn’t above looking a little excited to hear from you.
“Hey, Bee. Are you busy?”
“Never for you.” and he means it. He doesn’t care that you took a week to call him back. He doesn’t care that you may be calling to let him down easy.
You giggle on the other end. His spark flutters. “Flirt. Wanna come get me and us go somewhere?”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.” He once again sounded too excited. Luckily, you think it’s cute.
The two of you drove around and talk all night. He told you stories of growing up, his planet, war, and his friends. You had less interesting stories to tell in comparison to his cool space tales but he listened intently, eating up every bit of information about you that you’d give him as if it was the most interesting thing he’d ever heard. It wasn’t until the sun was rising that you both realized how late it had gotten. Neither of you had ever felt so at ease with anyone.
That night changed everything.
He came to the theater every night he could and you hung out every chance you got. The immediate friendship soon became something else that neither of you fully addressed yet. You hugged and held hands and flirted all the time. Your fingers always found him, either to lay across his arm or to weave in between his own fingers. You called him Honeybee and it made his wires buzz with electricity every time you said it.
Primus, he missed you. He wanted this mission to end sooner rather than later.
He needed to stop thinking about you but he couldn’t focus on anything but the big question: what were you two? What were you desiring to be with him? Was this all just for fun to you or were you seriously interested in him? He didn’t think he’d be able to handle if this was all just a game to you but also why would you want to be with an alien robot car in the first place? What did all of this mean? Bee didn’t have any experience in romance or relationships. What if he was reading everything all wrong?
How was he supposed to focus on spying on some Decepticons, finding out what their plans were, and then dip out when all he could think about was what you were to him? He felt almost childish.
He promised himself he’d remedy the situation as soon as he got back.
The mission, of course, went by smoothly and quickly. He was on his way back in no time. He was proud of himself that he could do both when it came to doing his job and thinking of you he just hoped he could keep it that way and not allow himself to get too distracted. He eventually wanted to tell Optimus and his friends about you. Maybe introduce you all. He couldn’t let you become something Optimus only saw as a distraction and he knew that’s the first thing he’d bring up. He wanted all of this to work out.
By the time Bee made it back home it was late but you should still be at work closing up. He headed straight for the theater, straight to you. He needed to see you and get back into the routine of what he left behind until he had to leave again. He hoped you didn’t get tired of always waiting for him. He pulled into the parking lot and activated his holoform to head to the box office. You had your back turned to him so he took his opportunity to use his scouting skills to sneak behind you, causing you to jump when he put his mouth next to your ear and said “Boo.”
You turned around and swatted him, laughing at him with a huge grin on your face at the sight of who scared you. “Bee, what the hell!”
“It’s not my fault you didn’t notice me coming.”
You shook your head at him but couldn’t stop the smile that stayed on your face. “I missed you.”
His spark lept. “I missed you too.”
“Let me close up here and we can drive around, yeah?” The way you were looking at him could keep him going for the rest of his days. He’d never dreamed anyone could look at him like that.
You sped through your cleaning and put away everything you needed to at lightning speed. Luckily, all the patrons left immediately after the showing ending without issues and you could leave immediately. You ran towards the yellow camaro, his holoform stepping forward to catch you as you wound your arms around his neck and pulled him in close in a hug. “Honeybee, please don’t leave again soon.”
“I won’t. I’m here for a while.”
“I feel like I just got you. I wanna be selfish.” You pulled back, winking at him before pulling him towards his alt mode. You opened the driver’s side door and climbed into the back, pulling Bee with you. He looked at you in wonder as you threw a leg over his lap and straddled him, laying your head down to listen to the spark in his chest. The buzz you heard reminded you of a sound machine meant to lull you to sleep. “Is this okay?”
“Of course.”
“How do you talk in this form if your voice box is broken?” He wonders if you can hear how you’re making his spark speed up.
“Since it’s all synthetic Ratchet, our medic, was able to create vocal cords so that I can speak and blend in better. I do feel like an itch in my throat all the time. This form is still me to an and my throat will never heal so I guess that’s why I feel that…” He trailed off as you start playing with the hair on the back of his neck.
You finally sit up and stare at him, eyes darting between his eyes and his mouth. “Can I kiss you, Bee?”
He nodded his head and before he could speak you already had leaned in, meeting your lips together in a kiss that made him immediately understand why the first kiss scene was such a big deal in all those romance movies he’d watched. He felt it from his head to his toes in a way that made him want more of you. Your hands were roaming all over him, digging into him like you also were desperate for more. If you hadn’t heard his spark beating faster earlier you had to feel it now with how closely you were pressed against him. You broke apart for a moment to breath, meeting his gaze. You looked at him like he hung the moon. “I feel like i’ve known you for years.” You say with a smile.
“I’ve never met anyone like you.” He replies.
You pepper kisses across his face. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long I just wasn’t sure…”
“Because of what I am? Weren’t sure if you wanted to?” You don’t notice the way his tone and eyes dropped.
“I don’t care what you are, Bee. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted that. I’m just a little human and you have such a big job to do. I’ve been sure of you since I called you that day asking if you wanted to go for a drive. That’s why I took so long to call you. I knew how I felt and it was scary to think that us being so different could ruin that but it didn’t! Even if it’s temporary I want to be… I want whatever you will give me.”
Bee pulled you close to him, gently pressing his forehead to yours. “On Cybertron this is kinda how we kiss.” He feels you press back against him, a smile spreading across your face. “I wanna give you all of me.”
“I can be pretty greedy.”
“That’s fine. I’m known to be pretty selfless.” You smile at each other, lost in the moment until you lean back in, kissing Bee once again. Your hands leave his hair and slowly slide past him and onto the leather seats behind him. You run your nails down the backrest, earning a shiver from not only the holoform beneath you but the car itself. You continue running your nails across the leather as you kiss him, slowly starting to grind your body against him. You could feel his arousal beginning to grow and you could feel him holding back. You wanted more. You wanted- he grabbed your hips and pulled you back to break the moment. “There’s a cop, Baby. We gotta go.”
You peak outside to see a police officer patrolling the lot. “Let’s get out of here.”
He quickly starts the car and peels out of the lot before the cop can even realize the Camaro was leaving. You both stare at each other for a moment in the back seat before you start laughing and Bee soon joins you. “Do you wanna ride around until you’re sleepy or do you wanna go home? I can take you back to your car after the cop leaves or I can take you home and bring you back tomorrow.”
“I’m kinda sleepy. I just want to be wherever you are. Don’t leave me tonight.”
He leaned in to give you a quick kiss. “I can do that.”
The drive home was quiet but comfortable as you cuddled into him in his backseat. He helped you get out when you made it and followed you inside, helping you further by taking off your shoes for you and leading you upstairs to your bedroom. You plop down onto your bed, reaching grabby hands out towards the blonde man. “Honeybee.” He grins at you, allowing himself to be grabbed and yanked down onto the bed with you.
“Stay.”
He kicked his boots off and climbed under the covers with you, grabbing you close and marveling at how well you fit against him.
The most satisfying thing about having an orgasm wasn't that feeling of uncontrollable ecstasy, nor the trembling of your legs with a slight ache, nor that intense pleasure in your center. But rather, the wonderful sight you could behold when you opened your eyes.
Frowning, eyes closed, and completely vulnerable before you, that instant was enough to achieve the perfection of the moment. His body, completely defeated, was enough to make you love him more and more. He was so charming, he always had been. Especially in those moments of weakness. You could clearly see how pleasure completely invaded him and how his body couldn't contain it properly. His hips continued to thrust involuntarily, slowly, ending the brief moment of intense pleasure, prolonging the last of his climax with erratic, desperate movements, clinging to the sensation until the last second.
You felt small, but above all, you were sure you were protected. He was enormous on top of you, enveloping you beneath him while you still felt his inner heat. He was trembling; so were you. But with him, the orgasm seemed to last longer; his arms trembled, unable to support his own weight. As you lay together, he fought not to collapse completely on top of you. He lowered his head, eyes still closed, motionless, absorbing every wave of pleasure that still throbbed inside him.
You gently stroked his arm as you gave him a faint smile he couldn't yet see, feeling his metallic body burning like crazy. The subtle vibration of his cooling system tried to regulate the overload of his structure, but its fragility at that moment only made it more beautiful. He pulled out of you, and you looked down; his member, completely wet, glistening, and proudly hard, revealed itself, a towering vision of insatiable desire. It seemed incredible how much he could endure, how strong he was even in his weakness. His hand descended, without waiting too long, an immediate instinct.
He began to masturbate slowly, up and down, up and down, the way he knew how, the way he liked best. His breathing, ragged and heavy with need, filled the air with an echo of suppressed desperation. But the trembling in his body made him fall. His arms couldn't hold it anymore. You didn't move, allowing him to find refuge in your warmth. He was closer to you now, and he barely had time to reach out to avoid crushing you.
It was a little surprising to see him so vulnerable. You had seen him fight countless times, enduring blows that would have shattered anyone, challenging his enemies with the determination of an indomitable warrior. Never, in any of those battles, had he found himself in this position: exhausted, trying to calm himself, shaking from the intensity of what he'd felt. Not even his greatest enemies could leave him in the state you'd left him in, which was ironic, because he wasn't bad at all.
I bet he'd want to stay like this all day if he could experience even a fraction of this ecstasy.
You laughed softly as he slowly recovered, his gaze still clouded by the last vestiges of pleasure. You caught his attention with a soft whisper; the echo of your voice pulled him back to reality.
His gaze met yours, bright, lost in the fog of desire that had yet to completely dissipate. His optics scanned your face, and for a moment, he said nothing. He simply watched you, as if he wanted to memorize every detail, as if you were a secret he treasured deep within his memory.
Her eyes looked up at him, glowing with the warm glow of fatigue and contentment. A soft, almost sleepy glow, but charged with something deeper, more possessive. Her lips, barely parted, still letting out the last vestiges of her labored breathing, and then, with exquisite slowness, they curved into a smile. It wasn't just any smile, it wasn't a simple expression of fleeting joy, but something more intimate, more dangerous.
It was the smile of someone who had just seen him surrender completely. Of someone who had felt him tremble, shattered with pleasure, and fall into the abyss beside her. A smile that said without words: "I've seen you vulnerable. I've held you like this, on top of me, inside me, lost, surrendered."
He stared at your face, at the way the light played on your damp skin, at the way your lips still trembled with the echo of what had happened. He could feel it, he could see it in the way her optics flickered slowly, in the way her system was still vibrating, struggling to cool. And yet, there she was, smiling at him with that enveloping softness, with that sweetness that contrasted with the intensity of what they had just shared.
Her fingers, weak but tender, ran over the warm metal of his arm, feeling the pulse of its overload. And he, even with his face inches from hers, his breathing heavy and ragged, could do nothing but watch her… and smile back.
He moved his hand with reverent slowness, caressing you with the delicacy of someone touching something sacred. His fingers brushed your cheek, tracing its contours as if he wanted to engrave it in his memory. They went up and down in a slow caress, like someone savoring touch, like someone afraid of forgetting the softness of the skin they adore.
His thumb ran over your chin, pausing for a moment, holding you with the tenderness of a silent oath. Each touch was a wordless confession, a silent plea for this moment to never end.
"My beautiful girl," he whispered, his voice a deep, warm echo, a promise wrapped in adoration. His words slipped into your chest, tangled in your breath, igniting something warm in your belly.
You smiled, barely, with that sweetness that disarmed him. You half-opened your eyes, looking at him through lazy eyelashes, heavy with the intoxication of the moment. You said nothing, because you didn't need to. Because sometimes, love is best expressed in silence, on the skin, like two souls meeting without needing to speak.
You laughed softly, and so did he. The laughter mingled with the warmth of the moment, with the certainty of knowing he was in the right place. You hugged him gently.
Hi! Do you think you can do Tfa Bumblebee x GN!Predacon!Reader? Just some general headcanons. I just find it funny cause Reader is like very tall, and Bee over here being a smol bot.
TFA!Bumblebee X GN!Predacon!Reader
Note: I'm so sorry for this being late— school work is so nice to me
He loves you so much
You are such the coolest thing to happen to him! In a relationship with a huge predacon! Younger him would laugh at him now and then see you and fall over heels for you, like he did.
Bumblebee is still childish to everyone, but to you, he is the sweetest thing to happen to you
You would think that since being a predacon and the bigger one in the relationship, you would be the 'scary' one.
Unfortunately you are not, Bumblebee on the other hand is the scary one. At first he's nice to someone but once they start being mean about his s/o, he flips like a switch and attacks
There’s a 2018 Bumblebee fanfic floating around out there somewhere that I adore, but can not find.
Basically bumblebee and reader fall in love (if I remember correctly…) but they both think they can’t be together because of being different. However bumblebee ends up getting his holo form so he goes to the readers school and surprises them. At first the read doesn’t recognize him obviously, but then he tells her “it’s me bee,” I think or at least something like that.
I do know whoever wrote it had an edited picture of Dylan as his holoform so if that helps you guys awesome. Please please please help me find it, I’m dying to read it again, but can’t find it.
Pairing: (Transformers) Bumblebee x AFAB! GN! reader
Warning: robot sex, size kink, Bee has both genital, cum play, cum inflation, belly bulge, marking, Bee is a vibrator, reader is AFAB but no specified gender, omegaverse vibes, knotting, interspecies relationship, reader is human, praise kink, song lyrics used for dirty talk, Bee speaks through a radio
Bumblebee will be based off my own Au Of Transformers, Im rusty at drawing robots and mechs. So idk if I'll be able to draw him anytime soon but I kept him vague enough you can imagine different versions of him or even your own!. (Probably not Knightverse base)
Reader and Bee are both 20 (well him in human years)
"Has anyone seen Bee?"
You weren't met with an answer only knowing chuckles from the Autobots. You raised a brow as you looked up at them.
"What did you guys do this time?"
You put your hands on your hips as you send them a scolding look. Ready to hear what new prank they decided to do on the youngest bot. But they didn't spill - none of them held the same excitement or glee they usually did. You looked over to Optimus for help and he kneeled down, placing a hand out for you. You happily climbed on and he raised you to be eye level. He looked nervous as if he was caught doing something he shouldn't. As much as he was serious and calculating he was also a terrible liar when the fate of his kind wasn't at stake. Lying to the enemy? Easy. Lying to friends or family? God awful.
"Optimus…? What happened to Bee?"
Said bot cleared his throat as he looked at the others in hopes they'll chime in but they all dismissed him. Giving him a 'you can do it boss' as they all sat back and watched. He let out a sigh as he finally began to speak.
"He's experiencing what alot of our kind does at his age - when an autobot becomes an adult they are given- uh- cycles."
Your brow only raised further. Confused on what he meant. This only made him slump as he continued talking.
"Where ones spark seeks out another to bind with them, we call them sparkmates and until you find one the cycle will continue, it can cause the Autobot to become aggressive to possible threats to their spark bond and also— Ratchet shouldn't you explain this?"
Ratchet was already tired of his leader's unwillingness and awkward struggling. He rolled his eyes as he leaned down to more of your level. "Oh Primus." He muttered to himself as he moved.
"Bumblebee is experiencing what you humans would understand as a heat cycle, all Autobots experience this though how it may manifest varies, they are commonalities but some use combot as a way of bonding as an example - we are described as an asexual species but that doesn't mean we all unwilling to become intimate with ones sparkmates in a way humans often do."
"So- Bee is…..oh-" you couldn't even muster out the words. A hot flush reaching up to your cheeks down to the rest of your body. You didn't want to them to know what came to your mind. Pretending innocence as you gave him a questioning look.
"Is that why he's hiding away? Because he could start fighting people?"
"Oh sweet naive thing, Bee is not that kind of Bot, you should know that, he's hiding away because he is aroused." Ratchet patted you with one finger, standing back up to full height.
You flushed even harder. "He needs a Sparkmate, right? How long do these cycles last?"
"A month in your time." Ratchet confirmed. The bots were on earth so it made sense their bodies adjusted to different time zones.
"Ok yeah he definitely needs one - uh - do we just find another bot? Like- what do we do?"
You couldn't even believe it. Constantly horny for a whole month? Just the idea made you cringe. It was already frustrating enough but with no way to keep it at bay or have relief? Sounded horrible.
"I think you should visit him, see how he's feeling, this can be a very stressful time for bots, especially for the first time."
Optimus said, lowering you back down to the floor. A knowing tone lingering in his voice.
You looked unsure; what if he didn't want you there? He needed a mate. What if…he didn't want you to be his and that's why he's hiding. Not just from embarrassment but also because none of you were the one he wanted. You couldn't bond with him at all, you had no spark. You were probably the last person he wanted to be near him right now even if you are friends.
There was a sliver of hope in you. That he'd pick you and want you the way you wanted him. You loved Bee more than anything. But if he was in a heat cycle like that then what if he wasn't himself? Did something he'll regret - you didn't want to put him in that position.
"But- what if he-?"
"He will not do anything you won't want, we don't become mindless - just altered."
Optimuses words made you feel better but worry and insecurity still gnawed at you. Well, regardless of anything, your best friend is currently under a lot of stress right now and giving him your support is the least you can do. Even if he tells you to go away, you'll make sure he knows you are on his side and willing to help him find a mate or just listen to any issues be had. If it was anything similar to periods then he could really use that support.
You took in a breath and nodded your head. Marching off to Bee's room as Bulkhead let out a long whistle. You tried to dismiss the flames that licked at your cheeks but it was futile. Your heart was pounding hard against your ribs you were sure it would break.
Once you arrived you scanned your hand. Knocking on the wall as the door slid open. A voice announced your arrival and Bee let out a distressed whirr. The door slammed shut as you ventured further in. The whole room looked as it usually did, organised chaos everywhere but what surprised you were the low hanging cables surrounding what looked like a nest. All his cushions and blankets all tucked together to make a giant bed. Usually he would use his charging pod to sleep but it remained untouched.
The room was illuminated by the pod's blue glow, it mixed in the other lights that gleamed through the long vine like cable's. It seemed he put on all the night lights you gifted him. It made it feel like a peaceful disco. You wanted to laugh at the idea but then you heard another whirr. Reminding you of the situation.
"Bee? Are you feeling okay?" You called out, just stopping outside the nest.
"Ratchet and Optimus told me everything and I know it may be embarrassing but it's natural and I want you to know I'm here to support you - I know I'm no sparkmate but if you need me, I'm here."
Bee let out an annoyed buzz once the last sentence left your mouth. You hesitated, looking back at the door. You didn't want to deal with an aggressive Bumblebee. He may be the smallest but he was one of the best fighters in the team. Besides, you were a human. Just one flick could send you flying.
"Can I see you?" You asked, cringing at yourself knowing what you're doing is very stupid but Optimus said he wouldn't do anything you won't want. You can only hope that also includes violence.
As much as your brain wanted to focus on the fact he was horny and you were too - your gut tried to suppress it by focusing on fear instead. Hoping it would keep you on your toes instead of distracted and leading your actions with getting dick in mind.
There was a pause before he let out a defeated whirr. "come…in."
You inhaled a shaky breath before walking forward. Moving the cables out of your way as you got closer and closer. Stopping as you could finally peak through, eyes falling on Bumblebee's form. His antennae were drooping back as he looked at you with hooded eyes. His mask still covers the lower half of his face. Pillows were hugged close to his form to give him some decency as his fans hummed to life. You worried they were going to break from how intense they sounded.
"Hey, Bee, you holding up okay?"
He nodded. Lowering down so he was on all fours, still keeping himself flushed to a pillow which only made him squirm. You reached out and he leaned forward, letting you cup his face as his fans went even faster. He remained glue to your touch. Letting you smooth your palms over his head, his antennae twitching as his big eyes watched you.
"I'm sorry you have to deal with this, Can I try and help you find a mate-"
He let out a growl. The sound made your heart jump. It was deep and sounded strained, static lingering beneath. Okay, don't talk about mates, noted. You weren't sure how to handle this. It was all so confusing.
"You….my mate…."
You didn't know it was even possible to get any more flustered. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as his words sunk in.
"How? I don't have a spark."
He nuzzled his face into your small palm as he reached for you. Pulling you closer with ease as your wobbly legs stumbled forward. "Mine."
The robot paused in his actions, still watching you as he let out a timid buzz. "Will you….be mine..?"
You nodded your head. Words Failing you as you stepped closer. Bee didn't say anything, suddenly pouncing towards you. Your back landed with a small 'thump' against his palm as he hovered over you. His mask retracted into his helmet as his face was finally visible to you. You loved his face, when he had his mask on he loved more robotic. You loved it just as much but his real face? It was smooth, dark grey in colour. Scars extending from his lips towards his ears, all left over from the incident where he lost his voice. Broken and ripped at by Decepticons. His eyes were also so wide with wonder and joy even after all he's been through. Shining a beautiful cyan. You loved seeing his real face the most.
"I trust you, Bee."
That gave him the reassurance he needed. His optics lowering down to the baggy shorts you were wearing, you squirmed under his gaze. Realising how you fit so perfectly in his hand. You leaned against two of his fingers; keeping you semi propped up. His thumb brushed against your thigh as it found its way between them. Scanning you up and down as your breath hitched. He found exactly what he was looking for as his thumb pressed down over your clothed core, the tip of his thumb on your clit. Rubbing slow tight circles as it vibrated in light waves.
Your back arched as you grabbed at his hand. Bucking your hips against him, needing more. Too many layers were in your way. Bee tilted his head as he watched you shift away from him, tugging on your shorts. He stopped his movements, worried he did something wrong but he was quickly proven wrong. Kicking your shorts and underwear as far as you could as you laid before him. Legs trembling as he could the shining slick coating your sex. He whirred as a smirk made its way on his face.
Bumblebee was a two sided coin. A warrior and a peacemaker. Shy but confident. He didn't know everything but he was just as good of a leader as Optimus. And as sweet as he was, he also had a cocky attitude. His ego easily stroked, just as easily as it was bruised.
And you knew that look in his optics. Pride swelling in his chest as he saw what he's done to you. You've barely started and yet you feel like a mess. Desperate for more.
"Keep going." You ordered, voice weaker than you wanted as you looked at his digit. It was still vibrating.
You knew he wanted to say something but he didn't. Just moving his thumb back and you let out a cry. Finally able to feel it properly, even now it still felt overwhelming. Able to feel it all over your sex as he tried to keep the focus on your bud.
If there was something Bee was talented for it was patience and watching. Due to being a scout he had a photographic memory and was able to wait days for a target. Even more so, he was built to not blink as much as the other bots. Needing to be able to see every detail and event which made his stare quite intense. It seemed even in this setting; he didn't plan on missing a single thing.
"Can you- Can you use your mouth?" He looked at his thumb and then back at your face. He understood what you meant and smiled. Letting out an excited buzz as he removed his thumb. Raising his hand enough to be comfortable as he rested his chin against the ball of his palm.
Nudging your legs open with his head with ease. You whined at how far you had to widen them, moving them to wrap against the curves of his helmet to get more comfortable. He pressed his lips against you, humming a song you recognized. Moments silence by Hozier, it wasn't Bee's normal taste in music but he enjoyed the song. You remember when you had to explain what it meant to him and he only buzzed. Adding it to his playlist.
It started off slow. Catching your breath as you grinded against his mouth. Sinking into his palm as your legs twitched. Humming along as the vibrations traveled from his throat to his tongue. Lapping at your juices as it engulfed your sex. Sucking on your clit as the chorus played, the intensity going from 0 to 100 too fast making you scream. You couldn't stop panting as the song went back to a slow melody. The peak of your orgasm just hanging by the thread as it slowly went away.
You were just about to catch what he was doing, grinding against the pillow he had pressed against him. His antennae twitching as he let out a low whirr. Trying to move his hips as discreetly as he could.
"Feels good, doesn't it, honey? Keep doing that, I want you to cum with me."
Bee let out a loud buzz. Obviously flustered from your words as he adjusted his hips. You looked down, straining your vision to see a faint blue glow. The head of his spike poked out from the plump pillow.
You whined. Bucking your hips against him, feeling the curve of his 'nose' nudge your clit as his tongue delved into your hole. "Bee- please - need to cum."
He buzzed as he pressed his face as flush as he could against you. Working you back up until the chorus struck you again. A loud string of whimpers escaped your trembling lips as you felt the peak flood back. Crashing against you as your back arched. Desperately grabbing at something to hold, finding his antenna the perfect thing. White flashed before your eyes as you came.
"Good boy, good- good Bee." You lazily patted against his helmet, he whirred at your praise. You felt like your soul was sucked out of you. Eyes fluttering as he moved you back to the nest.
Watching as you wiggled into the blanket's with a hum. He let out a noise of concern but you just cupped his face. Bringing him closer to you as you smiled. "I'm okay, I'm just a little tired."
He nodded but let out a strained whine as he accidentally brushed against the pillow. You were able to see it better now, its size made your heart slam against your chest. Stomach fluttering as you watched the way it twitched under your gaze. Girthy too, thicker than your entire thigh.
As if by magic you felt your energy sprung back inside you.
"You didn't get to cum, did you, Bee? Come here." You cooed, noticing the way he tried to keep moving his hips.
You ushered him closer, he let out an embarrassed buzz as his spike pressed against your clothed stomach. It reached your collarbone. You tried to bite back the moan that threatened to escape you.
You patted his chest plate as you tried to figure out how you were going to do this. Smiling to yourself as he shivered at your touch. His chest was always sensitive due to that's where his spark hid but this was new.
"Roll over Bee."
There was no hesitance. He immediately rolled over onto his back. Watching as you crawled between his legs and got yourself comfortable. Moving a pillow against you to prop you up better. At this angle you could finally see him in all his glory. His spike stood proud but what caught your attention was the plump folds underneath it. Glowing a gorgeous cyan like his eyes. You couldn't stop the drool forming in your mouth. Watching his hole clench under your gaze, completely in awe.
"Oh, Honey, what's this?" You teased, trailing your fingers along his folds. He let out a static filled noise, lips trembling tight together as he tilted his hips into your touch.
You plunged two fingers in, amazed by how soft it was inside. Spongy like rubber but didn't feel like it. Your fingertips felt like they were electric, a tingling sensation coating your fingers. You looked up at Bee who was covered in a dark blue-ish grey blush. Wrapping your arm around his spike as your hands couldn't even wrap around it. Jerking him off as you hugged it closed to your chest. Lowering your head to suck on the head of his spike making him jolt.
You were able to add two more fingers, fastening your pace as his fans turned up to the max. His legs twitching but trying not to move in fear he might accidentally kick you. His back arched as he thrusted upward. Loving how tight your arm was holding him.
Still sucking along what you could. Dragging your tongue along the blue lines that went around his spike like rings. He let out another loud static sound, fingers digging into the blanket's, surely ripping a few in the process.
"Making me……feel..so good!"
He didn't get time to say anything as you pulled the tip into your mouth. Watching the way you could just barely fit it in already- the warmth from your mouth. Feeling your tongue press against him. Curling your fingers inside as you did. It was too much-! His thick load shot down your throat, your eyes widening as you jumped. You gulped down what you could but there was just too much. Pulling yourself off with a wet pop as more cum squirted out. Your chest and face got splattered.
He let out a high pitched buzz as he scrambled up. Grabbing a thin blanket to wipe away his mess. You grabbed his finger and he immediately froze.
You battered your eyelashes at him, making him tilt his head. Opening your mouth as you roll out your tongue. Letting him see just how much he cummed in your mouth. It was all still there on your tongue. It felt like pop rocks.
"You… look good like this.."
There was your Bee. You could sense a shift in him. His anxious state melted away as you made a show of it. Grabbing the thick mess on your chest with a few fingers and sucking on them. Humming as you did.
"Dirty little..human."
He picked you up with ease. Ripping at your chest as you let out a yelp. Placing you on his stomach as you could just about straddle him. Your face was still covered in his cum but he had an idea. Smearing off what he could and began rubbing it down your chest. The pads of his thumbs rolling your nipples as the electric feeling coated them. Making you squirm at the small sparks that now covered your body.
"Why can’t I keep my fingers off you, baby?I want you."
if you weren't Unbearably horny you would have laughed at him playing Beyonce.
His finger moved around, down to your ass. Giving it a small light tap that made you clench. Another small demonstration of how much more powerful he is than you. To him that was nothing but you could feel the light sting. It made you tremble in delight knowing despite this it wasn't too long ago he was whimpering under your touch.
The pressure of his hand made you lean forward. Adjusting yourself so his chest plate didn't dig into your stomach. His finger running against your sex. Covering it in as much cum as he could. The drag of his digit made you gasp as it brushed on your sensitive bud. The very tip of his finger prodding into your hole.
"Open up on the inside, gonna fill you up, gonna make you cry."
The song lyrics caught you by surprise. Flushing as he kept a slow pace. Working you open as you clutched at his chest plate. Rolling your hips back to get more of him. Even just a finger was too much.
He was so big.
He didn't even get down to his knuckle and you felt utterly full. Crying out as he thrusted his finger in faster. Hearing how wet you were with each sloppy squelch.
"Excited?" He teased, already knowing the answer. You hid your face into his chest plate, tears sparkling in your eyes as he kept fucking you as deep as he could.
"Dont- don't tease! You know I want you."
He let out a purr in content. Happy to hear you say it. You only felt your head spin as you peered back. Watching the way his finger sinked into you. Your eyes drifting to his spike.
How would you even be able to take his spike? Would it even fit? Could it even fit?! But yet, the idea of it all only turned you on more. You were just barely able to process the movement of his chest, revealing his spark just enough for you to see it. You sat up making him hit right into your g-spot. Jolting in surprise and pleasure as you let out a moan.
"Your spark-"
You couldn't even speak without becoming breathless. Whining as he removed his finger and scrunched himself up as he semi sat up. You sex pressed along his spike as you were forced to move back making you both moan.
He positioned it to your entrance, guiding your body up so he could put it in properly. Watching you squirm as you rubbed your soaked folds along the tip. What was left of his cum was still dribbling down his spike making it lubricated enough for you to move.
His thumb came back to your clit, sending a low vibration to it all over again. Holding your hip with the rest of his hand as you sank down. The fat head of his spike just pushed in with a small grunt. It felt like centuries. Slowly moving lower and lower as you feel yourself get completely stretched out. Trying not to clench down and keep your breathing steady as he kept playing with your clit.
You let out a strained gasp as you felt yourself completely sink down to the base. Both of you stilled as you got adjusted to the sensation. Bee was whimpering as he used all his will power to not jerk his hips. If you kept clenching around him like that he was sure he was going to cum again.
He held your hips with one hand, keeping one finger under your ass and the rest on your hips and his thumb remained on your clit. You did your best to move on your own, keeping a steady pace up and down. Each hit hitting your pleasure spot as you arched your back. Clawing at his chest plate as his spark reached out for you. Sparks of electricity running up your arms as you mewled. It was warm, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. It caresses your skin as it seeps into your very being.
Your pleasure doubled as if you could feel his own. With heavy eyelids you looked at him. Your mouth parted as a light trail of drool dripped from your tongue. The tears that beaded in your eyes became fat drops as you slammed your hips down. Unable to reach the base due to him supporting your ass. You slapped at the finger as you couldn't stop strings of moans flying out.
He got the message and moved his finger. Letting you bounce to the base. His fingers dug into your flesh as you grew closer to your peak. For sure leaving large bruises but at this point you couldn't care. You were happy to show off any mark he left you.
"Good Bee, so good- going to make me cum."
He whimpered at your words. You latched onto his antennae, which he bent towards you, completely stretching out your body as he ducked his head. You were able to pull yourself up until the tip was the only thing left before slamming your back down. The sudden fullness made the tightening cord in your gut snap.
Throwing your head back as your fingers brushed against his helmet. Grabbing at his thighs as he held you up. Your orgasm left your head dizzy. Falling back as he thrusted up. Chasing his own release, as he whirred.
"Mine." He growled out as he pushed down. Snapping his hips into you. His orgasm is just as strong as the one before. Completely coating your walls. Whispering as he fucked it into you.
What made your head snap down was the feeling of his spike bulging inside you. Right at the bottom, locking you in place. His thumb brushed along your stomach making you follow his movements. Whining as you saw your stomach bulge out. Pressing your own hand to your belly to feel the head of his spike. The bump growing ever so slightly as more of his cum pumped into you.
"Is this normal?" You gestured to the bump peaking out of your sex. Lifting yourself not to much avail as you were completely locked to him.
He nodded his head. Looking bashful as he kept caressing your stomach. You smiled at him as you pressed your face to his chest plate. His sparks energy still threading into your veins keeping you in a constant glow. Absolutely hazy from the pleasure.
"Thank you for choosing me to be your Sparkmate."
He shook his head. "Perfect…for me…" thanking his flexibility as he completely towered over you. Tilting your head back, pressing his lips to yours. Or atleast, due to his size, his top lip whilst the rest was pressed against your chin.
You giggled into the kiss as you grabbed his helmet. Scratching under his antennae making him purr. His tongue poked your lip and you happily let it in, choking around it as he put only half of it in. It was able to touch every inch of your mouth, feeling the tip in your throat.
Your lips hungrily moving against his, clawing at his helmet as you breathed through your nose. You felt the knot grow tighter as he muffled your moans. When you finally parted you were left panting. Shakily gulping up air. Flopping down against his chest where you traced your fingers along the plating around his spark.
"So….um- how long are we going to be connected like this." You bashfully asked, fumbling with your words as you noticed a flicker in his optics.
"Not that I don't enjoy it-! I'm just wondering!"
"I don't know…" He paused, hugging you close to his chest as he suddenly moved on all fours. Pushing pillows underneath you so you're fully supported and propped up.
"But maybe… another round..could… loosen it up."
You let out a small noise as you trembled. A familiar throb coming back as you grabbed at his chest. "O-okay-!"
Ratchet leaned away from the door. Just missing the sound you made as Bumblebee started moving.
He coughed into his hand and looked at the other bots. "They seem to be doing just fine, I think it's best we leave them for the next….few hours."
summary: "You should be more careful about what you draw, Toria." In which an artist with a knack for seeing things she shouldn't meets a suspiciously perfect stranger with glowing blue eyes and a possessive yellow Camaro. Set during ROTF.
pairing: bumblebee/original character
word count: 2.6k
a/n— so i may or may not be obsessed with writing these two?? like i literally can't stop and honestly? you're all gonna have to deal with it bc i love them too much. this is gonna be my only active fic rn (or until my brain goes "NEW IDEA TIME" at 3am lmao) anyway! chapter 2 picks up right after our girl's weird car ride with brooks, featuring: toria trying (and failing) to have One Normal Shift at the café, an overprotective italian mom, and a certain yellow camaro being The Least Subtle Ever (chapter 3 is already in the works but shhh don't tell anyone)
warnings — anxiety/mental health stuff, vague mission city references
Mom was nearly frantic when I ran into the back door of the café. She was pacing, muttering under her breath in rapid-fire Italian—never a good sign. She nearly dropped her espresso—like that would make her stress levels better—when she saw me.
"Vittoria Marie, where the hell have you been?" She gripped my shoulders with force, her dark eyes scanning my face like she was checking for injuries. I suddenly understood why she was so scared. After Mission City, after Dad, any unexplained absence sent her into overdrive. "You're nearly three hours late! No calls, no texts! Do you even want to—" She grabbed her espresso like an addict would a cigarette, hands trembling.
I took the dainty cup from her shaking hands and downed the rest of the drink in one gulp. Mom did not need anymore caffeine at 7:45 pm.
I, however, had the closing shift. I needed the caffeine. "Dad's car shit out on me. On the side of the road." I explained as I tied up my hair, trying to ignore how the familiar scents of coffee and fresh-baked cannoli made my stomach growl. "Uh, I got a ride back to the pier, walked home and came straight here. Car's still on the side of the bend." I made sure not to make eye contact as I told her, because explaining the whole 'mysterious guy in a yellow Camaro' thing would definitely not help her anxiety levels.
"The Chevelle?" Mom's hands fluttered anxiously to her throat, where Dad's wedding ring hung on a delicate chain. "Marco's Chevelle? Vittoria, that car is—"
"—all we have left of him?" I finished, maybe a bit sharper than necessary as I grabbed my apron from its hook. "Yeah, Mom, I know. Trust me, I know."
Her face did that thing it always did when I mentioned Dad—like she was trying to hold back tears and a lecture at the same time. "We should have sold it," she muttered, switching to Italian like she always did when she was upset. "That car, it was involved in everything at that base. All those classified projects he was working on before—"
"Mom." I cut her off, tying my apron with more force than necessary. "It's just the alternator. I'll get it fixed."
"With what money?" She threw her hands up. "The café barely covers the bills, and you're still paying off that art school debt, and—"
"I said I'll handle it." I grabbed a fresh pot of coffee, needing something to do with my hands before I started sketching anxiety spirals in my notebook again. "Besides, you know what Dad always said about that car."
"Cars have souls," we said in unison—her voice tired, mine almost defensive.
Mom's shoulders slumped. "Just like your father," she sighed, but there was a fondness under the exasperation. "Always seeing magic in machines." She paused, her expression shifting to something more serious. "But Toria, after everything that happened in Mission City... maybe some machines should stay mysterious."
I thought about Brooks and his too-perfect movements, about the way his Camaro had hummed like it was alive. "Yeah," I said, turning toward the front of the café. "Maybe they should."
Mom glanced back at me like she was going to ask what I meant, but shook her head instead, disappearing onto the floor.
"Toria! Table seven needs their check!" Rosa, our head waitress, called out as I emerged from the kitchen. She took one look at my face and raised an eyebrow. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Something like that," I muttered, grabbing my order pad. The Friday night crowd was in full swing, the café filled with the usual mix of locals and tourists. Every table was occupied, the air thick with the scent of garlic, espresso, and fresh bread.
I moved through my section on autopilot, refilling cups and taking orders while my mind kept drifting back to impossible blue eyes and engines that purred like they were talking. My sketchbook burned a hole in my apron pocket, full of drawings I couldn't explain.
"Honey, you okay?" Mrs. Castellano, one of our regulars, caught my arm as I passed. "You're a million miles away tonight."
"I'm fine," I said, automatically. "Just car trouble." Which wasn't technically a lie.
"Oh no, not Marco's car?" She clicked her tongue sympathetically. "That beautiful Chevelle? You know, my Anthony might be able to take a look at it. He's always saying how they don't make them like that anymore..."
I nodded along, only half-listening as she detailed her son's mechanical expertise. My eyes kept drifting to the window, scanning for a flash of yellow among the passing cars. Which was ridiculous. It's not like he was going to just show up at the café, order a cappuccino, and casually explain why he moved like a special effect come to life.
"Toria!" Rosa's voice snapped me back to reality. "Order up for table twelve!"
Right. Work. Normal, human work in our normal, human café where nothing weird ever happened except my mom's experimental fusion desserts.
I balanced two plates of fettuccine and made my way across the café, nearly dropping them when I caught a flash of yellow through the front window. But it was just a taxi, because obviously it was just a taxi. Get it together, Toria.
"You sure you're okay, tesoro?" Mom asked as I passed the register. "You look... jumpy."
"I'm fine," I said for what felt like the hundredth time. "Just worried about the car." And the impossibly perfect stranger who might know something about Dad's classified work. And the way his car had felt alive. And—
The bell above the door chimed, and I nearly got whiplash turning to look. Just Mr. Romano coming in for his usual evening cannoli. Definitely not a suspiciously attractive blonde with government secrets and weird eyes.
"That's it," Rosa declared, appearing at my elbow with her scary-accurate timing. "Go take your break. You're making me nervous just watching you."
I started to protest, but Mom joined in. "Yes, yes, take fifteen minutes. Get some air." She pressed a fresh espresso into my hands. "But stay where I can see you!"
I rolled my eyes but took the coffee and headed for our little outdoor seating area. The night air was cool against my skin, carrying the salt-tang of the bay mixed with the endless parade of tourist food trucks along the pier.
Settling into one of our wrought iron chairs, I pulled out my sketchbook. The margins were filled with him—the sharp line of his jaw, the too-perfect sweep of his hair, the mechanical precision of his movements. But something was off about the drawings, like my pencil was trying to capture a form that kept shifting. None of the doodles were finished—the pages were the same thing—one page full of his jaw, another of his hair, and his eyes wherever I could fit them.
The café's patio lights cast warm pools of gold across my sketchbook, turning my rough sketches of Brooks into something almost ethereal. I was trying to get his eyes right—they never looked quite human enough on paper—when a flash of yellow caught my attention.
My head snapped up so fast I almost spilled my espresso. A beat-up yellow Volkswagen puttered past the café, its engine coughing in a way that would've made Dad wince. I slumped back in my chair, torn between relief and... something else. Disappointment? That was definitely something to unpack later.
"Real smooth, Toria," I muttered to myself, adding more shadow to Brooks' impossibly perfect jawline. "Nothing says 'totally fine' like jumping every time you see a yellow car."
A group of tourists walked past, debating loudly about which pier had the best sourdough. The fog was rolling in from the bay, thick enough to blur the streetlights into hazy halos. Perfect mood lighting for sketching mysterious maybe-government-agents and their suspicious cars.
I glanced at my phone. Still no service, which meant I couldn't even Google "weird military guys with glowing eyes" or "what to do when your dead dad's car attracts government attention." Not that I was planning to. Much.
"Five minutes!" Mom called from the doorway, because apparently I still needed a timeline on my breaks at twenty years old.
I took one last sip of espresso, trying to focus on normal things. Like how I was going to afford that alternator. Or why my sketches of Brooks looked more like technical diagrams than portraits. Or why every passing engine sound made me think of—
"No," I told my sketchbook firmly. "We're not doing this. We're going to go back inside, serve pasta to tourists, and not think about weird guys in yellow Camaros."
I shoved my sketchbook back in my apron pocket and headed inside, nearly colliding with Rosa as she balanced a tray of tiramisu.
"There you are!" She steadied the desserts with practiced ease. "Your regulars are here—the college kids at table nine. They're asking for you specifically."
Sure enough, the corner table was occupied by the usual Friday night study group: three exhausted-looking art students who'd discovered our café's student discount and unlimited coffee refills last semester. I grabbed the coffee pot and made my way over.
"Let me guess," I said, taking in their scattered textbooks and desperate expressions. "Finals week?"
"Worse," Mia groaned, holding out her empty cup. "Portfolio reviews. Save us with your caffeine and carbs."
I started refilling cups, trying to focus on their familiar chatter about professors and projects. Normal college stuff. The kind of stuff I should be dealing with if I hadn't dropped out after... everything.
"Hey, what happened to your car?" Jake asked, dunking a biscotti in his fresh coffee. "Noticed it wasn't in your usual spot when we walked past."
"Alternator issues," I said, which sounded better than 'possibly attracting government attention according to a suspiciously perfect stranger.' "It's, uh, getting fixed."
"My cousin's a mechanic," he offered. "I could give you his number—"
The café's lights flickered, just for a second. Outside, an engine rumbled, deeper than normal, almost—
I wasn’t finishing that thought.
"I should check on my other tables," I said quickly, already backing away. "You guys good here?"
I didn't wait for an answer, diving back into the dinner rush with maybe a little too much enthusiasm. The next two hours were a blur of pasta orders, coffee refills, and definitely not looking out the window every time I heard an engine.
The last customers finally cleared out around eleven, the bell chiming weakly as the tipsy tourists stumbled into the fog. I flipped the sign to 'CLOSED' with maybe a bit too much enthusiasm.
"Don't forget to—" Mom started.
"Double-check the back door's locked, run the last load of dishes, and count the register," I finished, already grabbing the cleaning spray. "I know, Mom. Same as every night."
She hesitated by the door, her hand going to Dad's ring again. "I can stay and help."
"Mom." I gave her my best attempt at a reassuring smile. "Go home. Take a bath. Stop stress-baking cannoli at midnight. I've got this."
After another five minutes of motherly hovering and three more reminders to text her when I was done, she finally left. The café felt different after hours—quieter, but not in a bad way. Just me, the hum of the refrigerators, and the lingering scent of garlic and coffee.
I went through the closing checklist on autopilot: wiping tables, sweeping floors, counting the register while trying not to think about alternator costs. The dishes clanked in the industrial washer as I checked the coffee machines were off and the ovens were empty of Mom's stress-baking experiments.
The fog pressed against the windows, turning the streetlights into blurry halos. Perfect atmospheric lighting for sketching mysterious strangers, if I wasn't elbow-deep in sanitizer solution.
"Just one more sweep," I muttered to myself, dropping the last clean dish into the rack with a clank. "One more sweep and then you can go home and have an existential crisis about glowing eyes and impossibly alive cars in the comfort of your own room."
I grabbed the broom, humming off-key to the classic rock playlist Dad had made for closing duties. The same one that used to play in the garage while he worked on the Chevelle. The same Chevelle that was currently sitting abandoned on a dark road, probably attracting all kinds of attention I really didn't want to think about.
The front windows rattled slightly—just the fog rolling in from the bay, definitely not an engine idling somewhere nearby. I definitely didn't look up expecting to see yellow paint gleaming under the streetlights.
I finished the floors, counted the register one last time (old habits die hard when your mom texts to remind you), and grabbed my bag. The back door locked with its usual stubborn jangle of keys.
As I rounded the corner of the building, a flash of movement caught my eye. Something yellow disappeared into the fog at the end of the street, too quick to be sure. But the lingering rumble of an engine—not quite normal, not quite mechanical—echoed off the old brick buildings.
"Nope," I announced to the empty street, clutching my keys like they'd protect me from government secrets and strange men in muscle cars. "Not dealing with this right now."
But I still found myself sketching engine sounds on my walk home, trying to capture that impossible purr in graphite.
The fog had turned the familiar streets of North Beach into something out of a noir film—all hazy lamplight and shadowy corners. Good thing I had my scuffed Converse and anxiety-induced speed walking to protect me.
Every few steps, I could have sworn I heard an engine—that engine—rumbling just out of sight. But every time I turned to look, there was just more fog and the distant sound of tourists by the pier.
"This is what happens when you spend too much time talking to cars," I muttered, fishing my sketchbook out as I walked. Even in the dim light, Brooks' impossibly perfect features stared up from the page. I'd drawn him too many times for someone I'd just met, but something about him begged to be captured. Like if I could just get the lines right, I'd understand what he was.
A yellow glint caught in my peripheral vision, there and gone so fast I might have imagined it. The sound of an engine purred through the fog, somehow managing to sound protective.
"Okay, that's it." I stopped under a streetlight, addressing the seemingly empty street. "If you're following me, that's super creepy. If I'm imagining you following me, that's probably a sign I need more therapy. Either way, not cool."
The fog swallowed my words, but for a moment—just a moment—I could have sworn I heard what sounded like an amused rev of an engine.
"Great," I sighed, picking up my pace again. "Now I'm having conversations with invisible cars. Mom's totally going to love this new development."
The rest of the walk passed in a blur of fog and maybe-imagined engine sounds. By the time I reached my apartment, I'd filled three new pages with sketches—mostly of impossibly blue eyes and the way light seemed to bend wrong around Brooks' edges.
I kicked off my shoes, dumped my bag, and collapsed onto my bed, surrounded by the organized chaos of half-finished paintings and sketches of Dad's car. The ceiling fan spun lazily above me, casting weird shadows that absolutely did not remind me of yellow Camaros disappearing into fog.
My phone buzzed. Probably Mom's nightly "are you alive" check-in.
But the number was unknown, and the message made my heart skip:
Unknown: Your car's been moved somewhere safe. Alternator's fixed.
Unknown: You should be more careful about what you draw, Toria.
I stared at my sketchbook, still open to detailed drawings of a man who moved like machinery and eyes that glowed like something from Mission City.
You weren't always a 'car person'. In fact, up until about a year ago you had no interest in them at all, not even to drive them. But then your dad bought you a busted up and warn yellow Camaro, and you fell in love.
Really, who could blame you?
Even though it's radio switched stations like a jukebox, and that the door sometimes opened on it's own when you went to grab it, it was fantastic. It was a Camaro.
Who'd complain about having a freaking Camaro as their first car?
About a month in, you knew why you suddenly 'connected' to this car so much. Instead of your Camaro, there was a giant robot. The garage was filled with this huge hunk of machinery, and you had no idea whether to scream or keep staring back at it in awe.
You didn't have to decide. It chose for you, introducing itself as 'Bumblebee', and that was where your real love of cars sparked.
