#techhizz work

[techhiz]

This will be the final post on this account.

Hi everyone, this is Fanni—Emilia’s older sibling.

I wanted to share something difficult with you all.

Emilia, known here as @techhiz, passed away on May the 23rd at 5:13 PM after her battle with lung cancer. She was only fourteen. I know many of you followed her for her creativity, her humor, her passion for Transformers, or maybe just for the warmth she brought into timelines.

She loved being here. Genuinely. She’d show me kind comments, funny memes, and all the little messages you sent. This place was a home for her, even on the bad days.

This will be the last post made here. Her corner of the internet will stay up—for her, for anyone who needs a smile, and for everyone she inspired.

Thank you for being part of her world.

Fly high, Emilia. You’ll always be my little sister. 🩷

—Fanni🌸

P.S. If you’d like to stay connected or just see what I’m up to, I’m over at @konekofanni. No pressure, of course. Just putting it out there.

[techhiz]

Can I request a es Bumblebee x reader with the reader just giving random hand made gifts like a plushie that says "I love you" when you press a button.

🦝 anon

Echoes of You.

Bumblebee sat alone in the barn, the soft whir of his internal systems the only sound accompanying the quiet of the night. In his servos, he held a small, handmade plushie—its seams imperfect, its shape slightly lopsided, but to him, it was perfect. The little plush, a yellow car with tiny blue felt optics, was one of the countless gifts you’d made for him.

He hadn’t let go of it since… since you were gone.

With a trembling servo, he pressed the small button you’d embedded in its side.

“I love you, Bee,” your voice said, cheerful and warm.

His spark clenched.

“You always knew how to make everything better,” Bumblebee whispered, his optics dimming. “But you’re not here anymore. How am I supposed to do this without you?”

It had all started with a keychain.

“Hey, Bee!” you’d called, bounding into the barn with your usual enthusiasm.

Bumblebee looked up from his datapad, his optics brightening when he saw you. “What’s up, Y/N?”

You grinned, holding out a small object. “I made you something!”

He tilted his head, taking the little keychain from your outstretched hand. It was shaped like his Autobot insignia, painstakingly carved and painted.

“You made this?” Bumblebee asked, his tone full of awe.

“Yep!” you said, rocking on your heels. “Thought you might like it. I mean, it’s not much, but—”

“It’s amazing,” he interrupted, a smile spreading across his faceplate. “Thank you, Y/N.”

From that day on, the gifts kept coming. Paper flowers, little doodles, and eventually, the plushie that had become his most treasured possession.

The day you gave him the plushie had been one of his happiest.

“Close your optics!” you’d insisted, bouncing with excitement.

Bumblebee complied, a chuckle escaping him. “Alright, alright. What’s this all about?”

“Okay, you can open them now!”

When he did, he saw you holding the plushie—a yellow car, unmistakably modeled after his alt mode.

“I made this for you,” you said, a little shyly. “Press the button on the side.”

He did, and your recorded voice filled the room:

“I love you, Bee.”

His optics widened, and he stared at you, his voice soft. “Y/N… this is…”

“Do you like it?” you asked, fidgeting nervously.

“I love it,” he said, pulling you into a gentle hug. “Thank you.”

It was supposed to be simple—an intel-gathering mission to locate Mandroid’s base. You’d insisted on coming along, even when Bumblebee hesitated.

“You need someone who can think on their feet,” you’d argued, crossing your arms. “Besides, I’m not leaving you to face that psycho alone.”

He’d relented, but not without a warning. “Stay close to me, okay?”

“I always do,” you’d replied with a wink.

The mission had gone smoothly at first. But then, Mandroid’s forces had ambushed you.

“Y/N, run!” Bumblebee shouted, his blaster firing rapidly.

But you didn’t run. You’d stayed to help, throwing makeshift explosives to buy him time.

“Bee, go!” you yelled, your voice cutting through the chaos. “I’ll cover you!”

“No! I’m not leaving without you!”

He fought his way to you, but by the time he reached your side, it was too late. Mandroid’s machines had overwhelmed you, and despite Bumblebee’s desperate attempts to save you, the injuries were too severe.

As he cradled you in his servos, your voice was barely a whisper.

“Bee… it’s okay,” you said, your hand brushing against his faceplate. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“Don’t talk like that,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “You’re gonna be fine. I’ll get you help.”

You smiled weakly. “I love you, Bee. Always.”

And then you were gone.

Bumblebee was a shadow of his former self. He withdrew from the Maltos, from the other Autobots, from everything. The only thing he couldn’t let go of was the plushie.

He carried it with him everywhere, replaying your recorded message over and over.

“I love you, Bee.”

Your voice was both a comfort and a dagger to his spark, a reminder of what he’d lost.

One night, Bumblebee sat alone in the barn, the plushie clutched tightly in his servos. His frame shook as he replayed the message for the hundredth time.

“Why did you have to go?” he whispered, his optics dim. “Why couldn’t I protect you?”

The plushie offered no answer, only the echo of your love.

“I love you, Bee.”

A sob escaped him, raw and unrestrained. He pressed the plushie to his chest, his spark aching with the weight of his grief.

“I love you too,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I always will.”

As time passed, Bumblebee slowly began to heal. He knew you wouldn’t want him to live in pain forever.

One morning, as the sun rose over Witwicky, Bumblebee stood outside, the plushie in his servos.

“I’ll keep going,” he said softly, his optics fixed on the horizon. “For you.”

The Malto family watched from a distance, giving him space but silently supporting him.

He pressed the button one last time, your voice filling the air.

“I love you, Bee.”

“And I love you,” he whispered, his spark finally finding a measure of peace.

Though you were gone, your love remained—a light in the darkness, guiding him forward.

[techhiz]

Felt a little bit angsty tonight...

Faded Spark

The medbay was quiet—eerily so, with only the faint hum of machines breaking the silence. Knockout, always so meticulous, was tending to his tools, making sure everything was in its place. It had been a rather slow day, but that was normal. After all, the Decepticons had been laying low for a while. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, something he couldn’t quite place.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden crash of the door slamming open. Two Vehicons rushed in, their armor battered and scorched, struggling to drag a third figure in between them. The moment they entered, Knockout’s entire frame stiffened. His spark skipped a beat.

His optics locked onto the form they were carrying—the broken, battered body of a young femme. Her body was covered in deep gashes, energon dripping from the torn openings in her frame. She was barely conscious, barely even moving, her head hanging limply between the two soldiers. Her right arm was missing entirely, the jagged end a cruel reminder of the battle she had just faced. Her side was torn open, energon leaking freely.

For a moment, Knockout’s mind couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. The injuries were so severe, the body so unrecognizable, that his first thought was, It can’t be...

And then, as if his processor had finally processed it, the horrifying truth crashed down on him like a wave. His body froze, the tools slipping from his hands and clattering to the ground. He could feel his energon run cold in his veins, a sudden surge of panic overtaking him.

“Y/N...?” he whispered, his voice barely a breath as his optics flickered over your form again. It can’t be...

But the realization was unmistakable. His twin sister—his baby sister—lay in front of him, broken and nearly lifeless.

The Vehicons, having done their part, stepped back, their faces showing a mix of worry and reluctance. One of them spoke with a strained voice, his own concern showing.

“W-We found her like this, Knockout. We tried to get her back... but we... couldn’t.”

Knockout didn’t hear him. He didn’t need to. His entire focus was on you. His twin. The one who had been by his side for so long.

He stumbled forward, unable to believe the sight before him. “No... no, no, no, no... Y/N!” His voice cracked on the last syllable, the word ripping through his chest like a blade.

You were barely hanging on, your movements sluggish and weak. You hadn’t even opened your remaining optic to acknowledge him, your head lolling to the side as you tried to fight the pull of unconsciousness.

With shaking hands, Knockout gently cupped your face, brushing away some of the blood and dirt that had smeared across it. His voice broke as he whispered again, “Y/N, please... please, wake up... don’t do this to me...”

But you didn’t respond. Your labored breathing was all he could hear, shallow and uneven.

He moved quickly, his hands trembling as he began to assess the damage. His medical knowledge kicked in, but even as his scanners registered the overwhelming extent of the damage, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. His twin needed him—you needed him.

“Stay with me, please...” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he began to work. He sealed the open wounds on your side as best as he could, but the damage was extensive. The missing arm couldn’t be replaced—not this quickly. And then there was the matter of your damaged optic. He couldn’t fix everything, not in time.

Breakdown entered the room at that moment, his optics going wide when he saw the situation. He had been following behind, unaware of what awaited him, but the sight of Knockout cradling your broken body made his spark drop. He quickly moved toward Knockout’s side, placing a large, reassuring hand on his partner’s shoulder.

Knockout’s optics locked onto Breakdown’s, full of desperation, pleading for help in a way that words could never express. “Breakdown... I can’t... I can’t lose her... Please, tell me I can fix her...” His voice cracked as the weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders.

Breakdown, usually the steady, unflappable one, couldn’t hide his own grief. He saw the way Knockout’s frame shook, how his partner was barely holding it together. He had seen Knockout in countless dangerous situations, but this was different. This was personal. This was the one person who had always been with him, the one person Knockout loved unconditionally, now broken beyond repair.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Knockout,” Breakdown said quietly, his voice rough with sorrow. “I’m here. We’re here for you.”

Knockout didn’t respond. His hands continued to work frantically on your body, but there was no way to fix the unfixable. He felt so helpless. He wasn’t used to feeling powerless, but now... now he was faced with something even he couldn’t repair.

“Y/N, don’t leave me... Don’t leave me like this...” His voice trembled as he spoke, the fear and panic now fully taking over. “Please, Y/N, please...”

He felt the vibration of your weak pulse beneath his fingers, and for the briefest moment, he allowed himself to believe that you might make it—that you might pull through. But his hopes were dashed when the vital signs came through as dangerously low, and your remaining optic flickered out.

“Y/N...” Knockout whispered, his voice barely a sound, his hand trembling as it held yours. “No, no, no... please...” His chest tightened painfully, a pressure he couldn’t escape. His spark pounded in his chest like it was trying to escape the cage of his frame.

And then... it happened.

With one final, ragged breath, your body went still.

Knockout didn’t notice at first. He was so caught up in his frantic attempts to resuscitate you, his thoughts wild with denial, that he didn’t see it—didn’t see that the life had left your frame.

When he finally realized that your chest had stopped moving, when the quiet became deafening, it hit him all at once. His spark, his twin, his Y/N—was gone.

“No...” Knockout’s voice barely formed the word, his whole body trembling as his grip tightened around your cold hand. His optic flickered with the sting of tears he hadn’t allowed himself to shed. “No, no, no...” He repeated over and over, the word losing all meaning as it became a desperate chant, a plea to bring you back, to fix it, to undo what had been done.

Breakdown didn’t say anything. He simply sat down beside Knockout, his massive frame resting against his partner’s smaller one. He gently placed a hand on Knockout’s back, pulling him close, his own optics filled with sorrow for the one he loved so much.

“Shh... Knockout, I’m here,” Breakdown murmured, trying to offer whatever comfort he could. But the words felt hollow in the face of the devastation that had overtaken Knockout. He could only hold him as the medic’s body shook with the force of his sobs.

Knockout let out a broken sob, his optics closed as he buried his face in his hands. He could feel the weight of grief settling in on him, suffocating him. His spark had never felt so cold, so empty. You were everything to him. And now you were gone.

“I couldn’t save her...” Knockout whispered between his sobs, his voice raw with guilt and loss. “She was just a sparkling... I should’ve protected her better... I should’ve been there...” He couldn’t bring himself to look at you, even though every part of him wanted to. It was as if, by looking at your lifeless form, he would be admitting the truth he couldn’t bear.

Breakdown pulled Knockout closer, his hands rubbing soothing circles on his back, even as he tried to hold himself together. “You did everything you could, Knockout. You fought for her. And she knew you loved her. That’s all you could do.”

But the words didn’t reach Knockout. Nothing could.

And so, there they sat, in the quiet medbay. The body of Knockout’s twin sister lay motionless, and the silence between them was deafening. It was a silence that echoed with the loss, with the pain of a life cut short.

And Knockout’s heart, once full of pride and strength, was now an empty, aching void.

The love he had for his twin sister would never be forgotten, but it was now a memory, a shadow, something he could never reach again.

The medbay was still. Silent.

And Knockout, for the first time in his life, felt truly alone.

gn! ^^ *runs to a corner and sobs to sleep*

[techhiz]

part 1.

Faded Spark 2

It didn’t take long for word to spread through the Decepticon base. The comms buzzed with frantic chatter, but it was when Megatron's voice thundered through the halls, summoning the troops, that everything came to a halt. The news had come from Soundwave, delivered in his usual calm but somehow haunting tone. His voice, even without emotion, carried the weight of devastation.

"Y/N... is dead."

At first, no one believed it. They thought it was a trick. Y/N, the young femme who had grown into a force to be reckoned with, had been the embodiment of fearlessness and loyalty. How could she possibly be gone?

But when Megatron summoned the high-ranking Decepticons to the war room, it was clear this wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t some cruel joke. It was real. Their strongest, most reliable medic, Knockout, had lost his twin sister—Soundwave’s favorite—and the Decepticons would never be the same again.

In the war room, Megatron stood in front of his troops, his expression cold, calculating as ever, but there was something—something—missing. His optics, usually filled with commanding authority, were now cold pits of sorrow, a bitter reflection of his grief.

“There will be no questions. Y/N's death is a loss for us all,” Megatron said, his voice low and full of authority, but lacking the usual harshness. He rarely allowed any emotion to show, but the pain was unmistakable. “Her death shall not go unpunished. We will strike at the Autobots, yes—but not today. Today, we mourn.”

The room fell silent, the usually confident Decepticons standing still as if the weight of the news had drained all life from them. It was as though the very spark of their army had been extinguished.

Soundwave, however, was the first to speak—or rather, to transmit his words through his familiar mechanical voice. "Y/N was... my most valued. A loss I will not easily overcome." His words, though few, were spoken with an unmistakable ache, a longing that only someone who truly cared for someone else could express. Even Soundwave, the one Decepticon who rarely showed emotion, was broken.

Starscream stood off to the side, his posture stiff and his optics dark. “So, she’s dead, huh?” he asked, his tone void of the usual arrogance. “A shame... But what happened?”

“No one knows,” Megatron answered sharply, his voice echoing through the room. “But we will find out. This is not something to be overlooked.”

Starscream said nothing further, his usual smugness gone. There was something in the air that made even him hesitate. No one questioned Megatron’s words. No one dared to. Y/N’s death was a turning point, and even the scheming Starscream knew it.

At the back of the room, Breakdown stood with his head lowered, his fists clenched in silent rage. His connection with Knockout was well known, and he could see how much this loss was affecting his partner. But he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. Breakdown’s pain was written all over his face. He couldn’t fathom the grief Knockout was enduring.

For a moment, everything was silent again. The Decepticons were at a loss for what to do, for how to move forward. It wasn’t just the loss of one of their own—it was the loss of someone who had been a light in the darkness for so many of them.

---

Meanwhile, far across the battlefield, the Autobots were in their own base, oblivious to the tragedy that had unfolded. They hadn’t been involved. They hadn’t been responsible. But that didn’t mean they were free from the consequences of Y/N’s death.

Optimus Prime was the first to hear the news. Ratchet had received an encrypted transmission from the Decepticons, and though it had been marked with unusual urgency, the message itself was as cryptic as Soundwave’s usual communications. Ratchet, however, wasn’t a fool, and the strange note of sorrow in the transmission made his spark tremble. He immediately contacted Optimus.

"Optimus," Ratchet’s voice crackled over the comms, a tone of uncertainty threading through his words. "You might want to listen to this."

Optimus Prime, who had been busy overseeing some of the base’s operations, immediately made his way to the medbay, sensing the heaviness in Ratchet’s voice. He hadn’t seen his old comrade in such a state for quite some time. It was only when he entered the medbay that Ratchet handed him the transmission.

Optimus scanned the contents carefully, his optics flickering with a mixture of confusion and concern. It wasn’t an ordinary message. There were no typical demands or taunts—just a short, chilling line:

'Y/N is dead.'

There was a pause as the weight of the words settled into the room. Ratchet’s shoulders slumped, the anger and frustration of having fought so long against the Decepticons now mixed with something else: an eerie sense of responsibility. They hadn’t caused Y/N’s death, but the fact remained that she was gone—and Ratchet, for a moment, felt as though he had failed.

“Are you sure about this?” Optimus asked, his voice unusually soft. It wasn’t the kind of softness reserved for allies or enemies—it was the tone of someone who had just learned a hard truth.

Ratchet nodded grimly. “Yes. Soundwave was the one to transmit the message, and though I don’t trust him, there’s no mistaking the… sorrow in his voice.” He looked up at Optimus, his face etched with the exhaustion of too many battles. “I don’t know what happened, Optimus. But I think we’ve just lost someone important.”

Optimus Prime didn’t respond immediately. His processor whirred as he thought of the battle tactics the Autobots had used, the covert missions they’d conducted, and the occasional reconnaissance he had personally carried out. He thought of the many times Y/N had been caught in the crossfire, fighting valiantly by the side of the Autobots despite her Decepticon allegiance. She had always been one of the few who questioned the boundaries of the war—who saw the futility in it all.

“She was... an anomaly,” Optimus finally said, his voice thick with reluctant admiration. “In a way, she reminded me of some of our own. But now, she is gone. The loss affects more than just the Decepticons.”

Ratchet grimaced. “I don’t know what kind of impact it’ll have on the war. But this... this feels personal. Even Soundwave is shaken.”

Bumblebee, who had been nearby, overheard the conversation. He had seen Y/N’s fierce spirit, her strength, her determination—even if they hadn’t always agreed. They’d fought side by side before, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his chest. He had always admired her, respected her, and though their alliance had been shaky at best, they’d both shared a love for their home world.

He stepped forward, unable to hold back any longer. “I know she was a Decepticon... but... She was still... one of us, right?”

Ratchet looked at the scout, his gaze softening. “In many ways, yes. But her death doesn’t change the fact that we were at war.”

Optimus Prime placed a steady hand on Bumblebee’s shoulder, the weight of the moment settling on him as well. “We may not have been the ones who ended her life, but it doesn’t matter. A life has been lost, and we mourn that loss. We must honor her memory, and we must continue our fight.”

---

The Decepticons—especially Knockout—could not see beyond their grief. Soundwave, once so composed, was now quiet, distant. The loss of Y/N had left a void too deep to comprehend. It wasn’t just a member of their ranks who had fallen; it was a piece of their soul. The world they once knew had been irreversibly altered.

On the Autobots’ side, there was no victory to be had in the loss of Y/N. Optimus Prime, Ratchet, and the others all felt the sting of the sudden, heart-wrenching truth: war had claimed another life, and this time, it was someone who had once walked beside them. Not in their ranks, perhaps, but in the shared struggle. They had been family in more ways than one.

And as the universe continued to spin, it became clear that Y/N’s death wasn’t just the loss of a fighter—it was the loss of hope, of an ideal, and of a future that could have been different. The line between Autobot and Decepticon had blurred, and in the end, it was the innocent who paid the price.

For Knockout, Soundwave, and all those who had known Y/N, the war would never be the same.

[techhiz]

Hi again, since you're still taking requests I decided to pop in here yet again ^^

Can I please get a continuation of the last ES bumblebee fic? Hope that's not too much trouble but the way you wrote him is just SO GOOD OML (I LOVED EVERY SECOND THAT I WAS READING IT) Anyway, thank you so much again, hope you have a great day <33

ES Bumblebee x gn human reader (pt2)

--fluff, sfw

----

The air in the evening was cool, a perfect contrast to the warmth that lingered between you and Bumblebee after that heartfelt exchange. The stars shone bright overhead, a thousand tiny lights decorating the sky, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped. You sat there in a comfortable silence, Bumblebee’s large hand still resting over yours, his touch gentle, almost as if he were afraid of breaking the connection.

It had been a while since either of you spoke, but words didn’t feel necessary. The quiet moments between you two had always been special, but tonight, something was different. The unspoken understanding, the trust that had grown between you both—it all seemed to culminate into this perfect, peaceful evening under the stars.

“I don’t think I ever realized how peaceful it is up here,” Bumblebee finally said, his voice softer than usual as his gaze drifted from the sky back to you. “When I’m not, you know, dealing with Decepticons or the next big threat.”

You chuckled softly, squeezing his hand. “I guess it’s easy to forget that sometimes. You’re always on alert, always ready for the next fight. But… I’m glad we can have moments like this.”

Bumblebee’s optics dimmed slightly, as if he was mulling over something important. “I didn’t think… I could ever let my guard down like this. But with you, [Y/N], it’s different. I feel like I can… just be.”

The sincerity in his voice struck a chord deep within you, making your heart swell once again. You had always admired Bumblebee’s resilience, his strength, and his unwavering dedication to protecting others. But hearing him say that he felt safe with you—like he could truly be himself—meant more to you than words could express.

“You don’t always have to be strong, you know,” you whispered, your thumb gently stroking the back of his hand. “It’s okay to lean on someone else for a change.”

Bumblebee’s gaze softened, and you could see the mix of emotions swirling behind his bright blue optics. “It’s hard to shake off years of fighting,” he admitted, his voice low. “But with you, it feels… right. Like maybe, just maybe, I can stop being ‘the hero’ all the time.”

You gave him a small, understanding smile. “You’ll always be a hero to me, Bee. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be something else too. You’re more than just the Autobot leader or the protector. You’re… you.”

His optics brightened slightly, a soft laugh escaping him. “Leave it to you to see me for more than just the metal and gears.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh, the sound of it blending with the gentle rustling of leaves in the night breeze. As the laughter faded, a more comfortable silence settled between you again, and you found yourself leaning against Bumblebee’s frame, resting your head on his arm. He shifted slightly to make it easier for you, careful as ever to make sure you were comfortable.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you confessed quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but now that it was out there, you couldn’t take it back. And a part of you didn’t want to.

Bumblebee’s hand tightened ever so slightly around yours. “You won’t have to find out. I’m not going anywhere.”

The sincerity in his voice, the promise of his words, settled something inside you. In that moment, you felt truly safe—like nothing in the world could touch you as long as Bumblebee was by your side.

You shifted slightly, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “You mean that?”

He looked at you, his optics filled with that quiet intensity you’d come to know. “With everything I’ve got, [Y/N].”

There was a moment where the two of you just looked at each other, the weight of his promise hanging in the air between you. And then, slowly, he moved, his other hand gently brushing against your cheek, the touch careful, delicate.

You leaned into his touch, your heart pounding in your chest. You’d always felt something for Bumblebee, something deep and unspoken, but this… this was different. This was real. And it scared you just as much as it thrilled you.

“I—” you started to say, but the words caught in your throat. You didn’t know how to put everything you were feeling into words. But Bumblebee, ever perceptive, seemed to understand.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, his hand still resting gently against your cheek. “I get it. I feel the same way.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and suddenly, all the fear and uncertainty melted away. It was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, and all that was left was the quiet, overwhelming certainty that you weren’t alone in this.

You smiled, leaning forward just enough to rest your forehead against his. “I’m glad I met you, Bee.”

His optics dimmed slightly, the Autobot equivalent of a smile. “I’m glad I met you too.”

For a while, the two of you stayed like that, your foreheads touching, your hands intertwined. The world around you faded into the background, and all that mattered was this moment, this connection between you.

Eventually, the chill of the night started to settle in, and Bumblebee gently pulled back, his optics flickering with concern. “You’re cold,” he said, his voice filled with that protective instinct you’d come to expect from him.

“I’m fine,” you protested, though you couldn’t help but shiver slightly as the cool air brushed against your skin.

But Bumblebee wasn’t having any of it. “Come on,” he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. “Let’s get you inside.”

You didn’t argue, letting him help you to your feet. The two of you made your way back to the Malto house, Bumblebee keeping a careful watch over you the entire time. As you reached the porch, you turned to him, a small smile on your lips.

“Thank you, Bee. For everything.”

He gave you a soft nod, his optics shining with that quiet affection you’d grown to love. “Always.”

As you turned to head inside, you paused, looking back at him one last time. “Goodnight, Bee.”

He smiled, that charming, boyish grin lighting up his face. “Goodnight, [Y/N].”

And as you closed the door behind you, your heart full and your mind at ease, you knew one thing for certain: whatever came next, you and Bumblebee would face it together. Always.

----

hope u liked the part 2! gn/gm!! ^^

[techhiz]

Hi hello, hope you're having a wonderful day/night ❤️

I saw your post about transformers so I wanted to ask if you do "x readers?" (If not, please ignore)

If yes, could I ask for some fluffy ES Bee x reader? Thank you in advance ^^

ES Bumblebee x gn human reader

-- fluff, sfw -- i love bumblebee sm- HE IS SUCH A DRUG TO ME ^^ -------------

It was a peaceful evening at the Malto family farm, the sky painted with hues of orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was filled with the soft sounds of nature, a gentle breeze sweeping through the trees. You had come to love moments like this, where the world seemed to slow down just enough for you to savor the little things.

But what made this moment truly special was who you were with—Bumblebee, your guardian, friend, and, well… something more. Ever since he had taken up his mentor role with the young Terrans, Bumblebee had become a larger part of your life. And in that time, you couldn’t help but grow closer to him. There was something about him, his courage, his kindness, and that sense of humor that made your heart flutter.

You sat on the porch steps, watching Bumblebee as he tinkered with a small drone he'd been fixing. His yellow and black chassis gleamed in the fading sunlight, his familiar form a comforting presence. You smiled to yourself, feeling warmth bloom in your chest just watching him so focused on his task.

"Hey, Bee," you called out, breaking the comfortable silence. "What're you working on this time?"

He looked up, his bright blue optics flickering with amusement. "Oh, you know, just trying to get this drone back in shape. It's been acting up lately—nothing I can’t handle." His voice carried that casual confidence you loved, and it brought a smile to your face.

"You always make it look easy," you teased, getting up and walking over to him. You stopped right beside him, glancing down at the drone as he fiddled with the wiring.

"Well," he replied with a playful tilt in his tone, "years of practice. Plus, when you're as good as me, everything’s easy." He gave you a wink, one that was so incredibly ‘Bee’ it made your heart skip a beat.

Rolling your eyes but smiling fondly, you leaned against the porch railing, feeling the last bits of sunlight warming your skin. "You know, you’re pretty modest for a hero," you joked, knowing full well how humble Bumblebee could actually be, despite the confidence he sometimes liked to show.

Bumblebee chuckled, a deep, almost rumbling sound that never failed to make you smile. "Just stating facts, [Y/N]. But if you really want to see impressive, I could transform and give you a ride through the forest," he suggested, a mischievous glint in his optics.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "As fun as that sounds, I think I’m good right here."

He paused, his hands stilling on the drone as he looked up at you, something softer, more genuine flickering in his optics. "Yeah," he said quietly, his voice a little more serious now. "This is nice too."

There was a moment of comfortable silence between you two, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. You sat down on the grass next to him, leaning back on your hands as you watched the sky change colors. Bumblebee sat beside you, his large frame somehow feeling like it fit perfectly next to yours. You felt the warmth of him next to you, not just physically, but emotionally. He had become such an important part of your life, and you couldn’t imagine what it would be like without him now.

"You ever think about what it would’ve been like if we hadn’t met?" you asked quietly, your voice thoughtful as you watched the stars slowly appear in the twilight sky.

Bumblebee glanced at you, his optics bright in the dimming light. "Honestly? I don’t like thinking about it." His tone was soft but sincere. "You’ve been... well, a lot more than just someone I’m supposed to protect, y’know?"

Your heart skipped a beat at that, and you turned to face him, eyes wide with surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah," he continued, his voice quiet, almost vulnerable in a way you didn’t expect. "I mean, I’ve spent most of my life fighting—either in wars or just trying to keep the people I care about safe. But... ever since I met you, I’ve felt... different. Like I can actually relax. Like I don’t have to always be ‘the hero’ around you." He paused, his optics locking onto yours. "You make me feel like I can just be... me."

Your chest tightened at his words, warmth blooming inside you like never before. You had known Bumblebee for a while now, and you had always felt close to him. But hearing him say that, hearing that he felt the same, made your heart swell with emotion.

"You can always be yourself around me, Bee," you said softly, reaching out and gently placing your hand on his arm. His metal was cool to the touch, but you could feel the life pulsing beneath it, that spark that made him who he was. "You don’t have to be anything else."

Bumblebee’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. But then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he raised his hand and gently, ever so carefully, placed it over yours. The gesture was simple, but it spoke volumes.

"I don’t know how I got so lucky," he murmured, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. "To have someone like you in my life."

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the sincerity of his words. "I’m the lucky one, Bee," you replied, your voice just as soft. "I never thought I’d meet someone like you. Someone who makes me feel... safe. And happy."

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, your hand resting on his, the world around you falling away. It was just the two of you, in this moment, and it felt perfect.

Bumblebee was the first to break the silence, his voice gentle but filled with warmth. "You know, [Y/N], no matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you. As long as you need me."

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "I know, Bee. And I’ll always be here for you too."

He smiled then, that charming, almost boyish grin that you had come to love so much. "Good. Because I don’t think I could do this without you."

The stars above twinkled softly in the darkening sky, and as you sat there beside Bumblebee, you couldn’t help but feel like everything was exactly where it needed to be. With him by your side, the world didn’t seem so overwhelming. And in his presence, you knew one thing for certain: you weren’t just his human charge, and he wasn’t just your guardian. You were something far more special than that.

Together, you were home.

------------- (omg tysm for giving me an request, I'm dying of how empty my inbox is-<3)

[techhiz]

are you only taking transformers requests or are all usual fandoms still open?

I'm taking transformers request that I know! :)

(G1, tfp, tfe, tfo, bayverse, rid)