I need Bayverse Bumblebee NOOOOOWWWWW OH MY GOD HE IS SUCH A SWEETHEART WHAT THE HELL— (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ
Imagine you just go on a late night walk to clear your head or go get a drink from the nearby grocery store, and you don’t tell him you’re heading out. A big mistake. You don’t even make it to the main road before you hear a loud CRASH of something metal tumbling over itself and the shrill squeal of tires following suit back in the direction of your house.
You huff out a sigh, but can’t stop the small curl of a smile—busted.
You hear the powerful rev of an engine zooming up behind you, and in a flash, a flashy yellow Camaro pull up right beside you. Shiny in the moonlight, and looking to be brand spanking new off of the lot this morning. Of course, there’s no person to be seen behind the wheel, but you know there is a driver present.
The radio clicks on, and the smooth yearning voice of Adam Levine crackles out, “Oh, baby, why did you run away?”. “Maps” by Maroon 5. Good song. You miss old Maroon 5. Bee knows that.
“I didn’t run away, Bee, you’re so dramatic,” you giggle. You also make the conscious choice to keep pursuing your quest leading down the paved sidewalk. You like giving him something to chase.
Bee, like the ever faithful partner he is, continues to cruise slowly along side you as you walk. He’s slowly rolling his wheels to keep side by side with you. He must really want you to hear him out. How cute.
“I’m just going to get something to drink from the store, I was gonna be right back. Half hour—tops.” You continue to defend your case, eyes facing forward instead of looking over at the vehicle. He revs his engine with a tonal grunt of frustration, voicing his displeasure at your reasoning.
Bee knows you’re capable, your independence is one of the main things that drew him to like you in the first place. However, he’s mad, and a little offended, right now. In his optics, you’ve just handed him the biggest insult on the face of your planet. I mean, come on—he’s part car, and your lover, and you didn’t ask him to drive you to the store. That’s like saying you don’t want to write your notes on a fresh sheet of lined paper, so you’d rather jot down your thoughts on a used napkin. How shitty is that?!
“My friends are sayin’, “Shut up BZZZ!, just get in the car,” the radio clicks on again, and this time is the sweet voice of JENNIE with a thumping bass accenting the beat of the song from the remix of Tame Impala’s “Dracula”. However, the part where she says her own name is cleverly scratched out, giving the impression that Bee is trying to say your name. As if you needed more of a hint, Bee inches a few feet ahead of you and pops the driver side door open swiftly, blocking your path along the sidewalk.
You obviously stop to not run into the new barrier in your way, but now a real laugh bubbles out of your chest. He’s ridiculous!
“Bee! Please, be reasonable. Let me go! I got this! It’s less than a mile down the road.” You smile, turning your body towards the interior of the car to show him he has your full attention now. You pop your hip out and cross your arms over your chest.
Now, an upbeat, dancing song zings from his speakers, “Baby, let me take you for a ride. Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah!” Dua Lipa “Levitating” in all its pop glory echoes across the barren dark streets of your neighborhood. You look around at your surroundings. It is a little dark. It would be much faster to drive. You could get back to your house sooner and relax with Bee for longer.
Sigh. I guess he wins this round. Smug bastard.
You pretend to be reaaaal bothered by his persistence, but he can read you like an open book. All your huffs and sighs can’t deny the smile on your glossy lips and the rosy flush on your cheeks. You like him pampering you.
You crouch down slightly, stepping into the freshly air conditioned car, before tossing your purse onto the passenger side seat. You hardly have the time to adjust yourself when your seat belt straps itself tightly over your chest and waist. You gasp out at the sudden sensation. You can’t help but feel the belt squeeze just a smidge tighter when you don’t throw up any complaints about the stricter than usual hold he has on you. The door softly closes beside you, and you feel safe in the cabin of his interior.
“Cheeky, tonight, aren’t we, Bee~?” You tease, snuggling down into his leather seat.
“You are beautiful, like a dream come alive, incredible. A centerfold miracle, lyrical. You saved my life again,” Bee croons out through lovesick delusion. Selena Gomez’s voice answers your question, the song “Love You Like A Love Song” playing in your ears. He’s totally buttering you up, but you won’t deny that sappy charm works on you hook, line, and sinker.
“Okay, okay, I get it hehe. I love you too, big guy. But I actually like this song, so start it from the beginning please,” you press your first two fingers to your lips, and quickly press them to horn on your steering wheel onto the very recognizable Autobot logo. Right where his lips would be.
A very loud rev churns from his engine at your action, and he tears off down the empty street like a bullet firing out of a red hot machine gun. You laugh at his silly antics. He’s such a sap.
(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)
I can’t help it, he’s such a cutie patootie. LIKE OH MY GOOOOODDDDD LET ME SMOOCH YOUR ROBOT FACE. I want a car like him so bad to save me and protect me from evil bad robot guys tehehe 🤭
Also, please forgive me if anything isn’t accurate to the Transformers universe or timeline. I only know the Bayverse movies, and even then I really only watch them for cool CGI and cutie robots I wanna kiss LOLOLOL 😂 Love you guys!
