[TF] Can't Help Falling
Oct. 14th, 2021 08:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Title: Can’t Help Falling
Universe: Transformers Prime AU, Humanformers
Characters: Bumblebee/Knock Out
Rated: M
Enticements: Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Dirty Talk, Light dom/sub play
Description: Knock Out’s done a lot of things to survive until this point: some things she regrets, most she doesn’t. But Bumblebee makes her feel like it was all worth it.
For Milagrosen
Knock Out is not nervous.
She is meticulous and keen on looking on her best. Checking her reflection, re-applying her lipstick, tucking back flyaway strands of hair -- all are necessary to ensure she presents an alluring, inviting picture. It's how she wants the world to see her.
It has nothing to do with anxiety.
She's not watching the clock because she's worried. She simply wants to make sure she's not caught unawares.
Her apartment is cleaner than it's been in weeks. Her bed has fresh sheets, not that she's expecting anything. She's also not not expecting anything, hence the brand-new undergarments, the fine lace trim feeling positively divine against her skin.
Perhaps Bumblebee will see them tonight, perhaps not. There's nothing wrong with being prepared for all eventualities.
Her doorbell rings while she's in the middle of rearranging the cushions on the couch for maximum comfort. Knock Out glances at the clock and smiles.
Right on time. That's Bumblebee in a nutshell.
Knock Out takes in a deep breath and checks her reflection in the hall mirror. Her hair falls over her shoulders in bright red waves, and her crimson lipstick is neatly applied, not a smudge in sight. Her dress is the perfect color to accent her skin, and it swishes around her knees in an appealing length.
Wonderful.
Now she can answer the door.
The war is not so distant that Knock Out doesn't peer through the peephole first, and smiles when she sees Bumblebee on the other side, his shape distorted, but as handsome as ever. He's shifting his weight from side to side, hands stuffed in his pockets, a bottle tucked under one arm.
Knock Out's heart flutters.
She throws the deadbolt and swings open the door. "Right on time," she says as Bumblebee smiles at her, blue eyes bright and radiant.
"I was actually early," Bumblebee says with a little laugh. "You didn't see me pacing back and forth outside your door."
Knock Out chuckles as she steps aside, leaving room for Bumblebee to enter, but tilting her head to accept the gentle kiss he presses to her cheek. "You're lucky security knows who you are."
"I may have bribed them." Bumblebee's hand rests on her waist, and he looks at her with a quiet whistle. "You look amazing."
Heat stains Knock Out's cheeks. She doesn't know how Bumblebee manages to sound genuine every time, but he does.
"Thanks." She openly ogles his chosen outfit for the evening. The blue of the sleek button up pairs nicely with the dark slacks, setting off the dark brown of his skin, and making his eyes seem even bluer. "Same to you, Abueille."
Bumblebee grins. "You can thank Optimus. Apparently, my choice of outfit for the evening was unacceptable. He made me change."
Knock Out's palm rests on Bumblebee's chest, skimming over the soft silk and the broad musculature beneath. "I'll send him a gift basket," she teases and her other hand taps the bottle still tucked under Bumblebee's arm. "I suppose he sent you with this, too?"
"Oops. Forgot." Bumblebee slips the bottle into his hand and presents it to her label-forward. "I thought we could share this over dinner. And no, this was all my idea. I'm not completely without my own charm."
Knock Out plucks the wine from his hands, raising her eyebrows at the label. Bumblebee must have been paying attention when she was waxing on about her favorites because this is one of the top tier vineyards.
"Wine and pizza. Sounds like the perfect date," she says.
"Because you're classy, and I'm not?" Bumblebee asks with a laugh. His eyes sparkle with gentle humor. "I thought so, too."
Knock Out hums, and realizes too late that they're still lingering in the doorway, pressed awkwardly together, though every point of contact sizzles with anticipation.
"You're classy in your own way," she says, and tugs him inside, closing the door before any of her fellow residents can get too nosy. It's not so much that she and Bumblebee are a secret, but they are trying to be discreet at the moment.
Tensions between the two factions are still at a steady simmer, and neither she nor Bumblebee want to be the ones to turn up the heat and be the cause of it boiling over back into physical conflict.
"I'm really not," Bumblebee says, hands in his pockets as he peers into doorways, familiarizing himself with his surroundings.
This is the first time he's been in her apartment, and they're both keenly aware of this fact. They've spent a lot of time in quiet restaurants or outside the city, and on one special occasion, a cozy night in Bumblebee's habsuite, though they had been chaste and proper.
Knock Out rests her hand on his lower back. "Would you like a tour?"
"Sure!" He turns in toward her with a smile, and his eyes wander over her again with clear appreciation.
Knock Out preens.
"It's not much," she says, but to be fair, most of the housing on a post-war Cybertron isn't much.
Knock Out's own apartment complex had been renovated as quickly as the construction crew could manage from a building that had mostly survived Kaon's bombing. The foundation was solid, it still had all four walls, and there was minimal exterior damage.
She, at least, had an actual apartment. There were other soldiers who were still housed in former hotels where they had to resort to communal kitchens.
"I think it's actually bigger than mine," Bumblebee says.
"It only looks bigger because I keep it clean," Knock Out teases, and hooks her arm through his, pulling him to the right hand doorway. She gestures with the bottle of wine. "Kitchen through here. Emergency exit through the window to a fire escape."
Bumblebee smiles down at her. "You know me so well."
"You're not the only one who has to have an exit strategy," Knock Out reminds him. She steers Bumblebee down the hall. "Bathroom here to the left. No tub unfortunately." She sniffs her disappointment.
She would kill to have a large enough tub for a long, relaxing soak. But alas, it is not to be at the moment.
Bumblebee peers in through the doorway. "Seashell motif, I see. A timeless classic." He waggles his eyebrows.
Knock Out rolls her eyes. "We have limited options for decor." She eyes him up and down. "Besides, you have no room to talk. You literally have the Autobadge on everything you own."
"Guilty as charged."
Primus, he's such a nerd.
Knock Out pulls him toward the last door on the hall. "And this, of course, is my bedroom."
"The second most important room in the apartment," Bumblebee says as he takes in the queen-sized bed, the plain furniture, the windows with their shutters drawn.
Knock Out has a great view, but she's not an idiot either. A sniper placed on the opposite roof could easily fire right through her window and take her out before anyone knew there was a problem. She hadn't survived the war by being foolish.
"Second most important?" Knock Out echoes.
Bumblebee pats his stomach with his free hand. "The kitchen is number one."
"Is that your very unsubtle way of telling me we need to go ahead and order the pizza?" Knock Out asks with a laugh. Primus, he's ridiculous.
He also eats like a racehorse, and yet, still manages to have the body of a god. Granted, he works at it. Knock Out might have possibly watched Bumblebee in the gym and on the training grounds during her breaks.
As if on cue, Bumblebee's stomach audibly grumbles. "...Yes?"
Knock Out chuckles. "I know you too well," she says and steers him back toward the main room. "It should be here any minute now."
Bumblebee halts in the middle of the hallway, and when he doesn't want to be moved, he isn't. Knock Out stops with him, a question on her lips, but Bumblebee bends down and kisses her, tongue flicking over her lips, his free arm curving around her waist.
Knock Out hums, head tilted up to receive him, a warm pool in her belly and a shiver down her spine. He presses against her, a long line of firm muscle radiating heat, and Knock Out opens her mouth to him, deepening the kiss. A slow throb rolls through her body, gathering in her pelvis.
She curves a hand around the back of his head, keeping him in place. Her fingernails scratch over his scalp, and Bumblebee shivers, a quiet moan vibrating in his throat. He nips at her bottom lip, tongue flicking over it to ease the sting, and Knock Out chases him when he pulls back, breathless with want.
Her doorbell chimes.
Of course her doorbell chimes.
“I think that’s the pizza,” Bumblebee says against her mouth. His stomach growls as if it is aware their dinner has arrived.
Knock Out sighs and slides out of his embrace, saluting him with the wine bottle. “I’ll get some glasses and plates. You answer the door.”
“Am I supposed to pay for it, too?” Bumblebee calls after her.
Knock Out pops her head out to grin at him. “Make sure you leave them a good tip. Don’t be cheap, abeille.” She ducks back into the kitchen as Bumblebee mutters something she doesn’t quite catch.
Knock Out rummages up some plates, wine glasses, and napkins before bustling into the living room. Pizza is not meant to be consumed at a table with candles and flowers. It’s meant to be eaten in front of a television with something sufficiently low-quality playing in the background. The wine, she decides, is what makes it a date.
Bumblebee joins her in the living room a few minutes later, the smell of tomatos and meat and cheese wafting from the box in his hands. “Dinner is served,” he declares as he drops onto the couch beside her and plunks the box down on the coffee table in the midst of Knock Out’s prep.
“Thank you, darling.” Knock Out hands him one of the glasses of wine, holding the other in anticipation of a toast. “To a very enjoyable evening for the both of us.”
Bumblebee lifts his glass. “And the best company a man could ask for,” he says, lightly clinking his glass against hers.
Knock Out smiles behind a sip of her wine, the dry sweetness rolling over her tongue. “I’ve put on an old movie for us,” she says as she sets the wine aside and hands Bumblebee a plate so he can choose his own slice. “Any objections?”
He eyes the title screen. “The Princess Bride?”
“What? It’s a classic!”
“It is. I just didn’t realize you knew it.” Bumblebee plops several cheesy slices on his plate, and though Knock Out had ordered a large, she’s aware there won’t be any leftovers. “It’s one of my favorites.”
Knock Out leans back in the couch, feet tucked to the side and plate balanced on her lap. “That’s because you have excellent taste.”
“True. I’m dating you after all,” Bumblebee says with a grin. He bumps her with his shoulder and takes a huge bite of the pizza, tomato sauce immediately staining the corner of his mouth.
“Are we?” Knock Out asks, a tiny thrill fluttering along her pulse. “Officially dating, I mean.”
Bumblebee scrubs a napkin over his mouth. “I’d like us to be,” he says. “I feel like we are, even if we haven’t announced it to everyone yet.”
Knock Out picks the olives off her slice -- she’d only gotten them because Bumblebee loves them. “Would you want to tell people?”
Would you want to claim me? That’s what she really wants to ask, but it sounds pathetic even to her internal thoughts, and Knock Out’s not ready to betray that sort of weakness. She knows very well what she is -- a former Decepticon who turned traitor as soon as it was clear the Decepticons were not going to win. She’d made her choice to survive, but there are many on both sides of the line who see her as less than.
“Absolutely.” Bumblebee tucks some hair behind her ear with his free hand, fingers lingering along the curve of her jaw. “If you were okay with it, I mean. It might bring you attention you don’t want.”
Knock Out turns her head into the cup of his palm and presses a kiss against his fingertips. “I’m not saying we should make an announcement on the newsnet or anything, but…” She smiles, her lips curving against his fingers. “I can understand wanting to brag.”
Bumblebee laughs. “Well, it would be nice to let people know how lucky I am.” He says it so matter-of-fact, without hesitation, as if he truly doesn’t mind the political shitstorm that’s going to erupt as soon as he tells people he’s dating an ex-Decepticon.
Knock Out ducks her head to hide the pleasure flushing her face and buries it behind another long sip of her wine for courage. “Then we’re dating,” she says. “And you can tell whoever you want.”
His beaming smile makes the concession worth it, makes everything Knock Out is going to weather, worth it.
They eat their pizza. They watch the movie. They finish half a bottle of wine, until the alcohol settles warm in Knock Out's belly and pulses ease throughout her body. She's not tipsy, but she's relaxed, and by the time the pizza box is empty, she's tucked into Bumblebee's side, her head resting on his shoulder as hero and heroine make their way through a dangerous swamp.
Bumblebee's arm is around her, holding her close, hand stroking her shoulder. And occasionally, he turns his head to nuzzle her, brushing a kiss over her forehead, until the warmth in her belly is a comfortable buzz.
She rests her hand on his chest, toying with the open buttons at the top of his shirt, occasionally daring to brush the tips of her fingers over his bare skin. Every time she does, his breath hitches, and his pulse quickens.
There is power in this, Knock Out knows. Power in a man restraining himself for her sake, when it's obvious he wants to go further, but not without explicit permission.
The warmth in her belly pools lower, gathering in her groin. Knock Out sucks on her bottom lip, ignoring the movie, as she lets her fingers dance upward, along his collarbone, along his throat, across the side of his neck. His skin pebbles beneath her, a line of goosebumps rising, and she wants to press a kiss to his throat, leave an impression of her lipstick and then her teeth.
His thumb sweeps over her shoulder, up and down, occasionally brushing the bare skin beneath her short sleeve. Her skin tingles, and Knock Out licks her lips. She drags her fingernail over Bumblebee's throat, and feels it bob as he swallows.
She looks up, and he's looking down at her, eyes bright and warm. It's a simple matter to cup her hand around the back of his head and tug him down for a kiss, sweet and gentle. His tongue sweeps across her lips, and she opens for him, sighing as his tongue tangles with hers. He tightens his hold on her shoulder, and then his free hand is cupping her face, thumb caressing her cheek.
Knock Out sighs into the kiss and pushes up, pressing against him, wanting more. She drags her fingers through his hair and cups her hand around his neck, and then his hands are on her waist, warm and perfect, thumbs rubbing along her hipbones through her shirt.
She's in his lap before she knows entirely what she's doing, knees pressed in on his thighs, the heat of his groin nestled against hers. He's starting to thicken within his slacks, and a low groan of want vibrates in his chest.
Knock Out kisses him like she's starving for it, and his hands roam over her back, his fingers dragging down her dress, until he cups her ass and squeezes. Knock Out groans against his lips, and when she pulls back, her lipstick is smeared over his face.
She smiles as she thumbs it away. "I think we're missing the movie."
Bumblebee is flushed beneath his dark skin, his eyes lidded and hungry. "The way I see it, we have two choices," he says. "We can stop what we're doing and watch it, or you can let me kiss you again. I know what I'm in favor of."
Knock Out does, too.
She gets a fistful of his collared shirt and pulls him to her for a fierce kiss, their teeth briefly clacking before his mouth opens under hers. Bumblebee groans against her lips, and he squeezes her arse, pulling her tight against him. He warms up beneath her, radiating heat, and she need only roll her hips to feel the thickening at his groin.
All because of her.
Suddenly, there’s nothing in the universe Knock Out wants more than to peel Bumblebee out of his clothes, lay him naked across her bed, and consume every inch of him until it all belongs to her. She intends to ruin him for anyone else, to lay a claim no one else can contend.
She drags her hands through his hair, scrapes her fingernails over his scalp, and he shudders beneath her. She pulls his head back, bares his throat to her, and he allows it. His eyes are a gleam of burning blue, and when she puts her mouth on his throat, a gentle pressure with her teeth, the groan in his chest vibrates through his whole body.
“Primus,” he breathes, bucking up against her, hands dragging up her back, getting caught on the silk of her dress.
Knock Out pulls back with a grin, delighted to see an imprint of her lips left behind, courtesy of her lipstick. It’s faint, since most of her lipstick has been worn away by now, but it’s still a point of pride.
“Did I make you forget my name already?” she teases as she rolls her hips down.
Bumblebee makes a punched out noise and goes back to cupping her ass again, pulling her into him as he plants his feet and grinds up. “Never,” he breathes. He lifts his chin, gives her a crooked smile. He grasps for one of her hands and draws it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingertips. “May I take you to bed, Knock Out?”
Bumblebee is truly his father’s son. The polite, proper query is everything a Prime’s kid has been taught, but with Bumblebee, these airs always feel genuine. He treats her like she matters, like she belongs on an equally high pedestal.
“Or this is fine, too,” he says, before she can even gather her fractured thoughts into a coherent answer. “I’m not opposed to some heavy petting. Whatever speed you want, I’m yours.” He breathes against her palm, pressing a kiss to it, and looks up at her.
A lady could get dizzy under the kind of focus Bumblebee gives her. Knock Out has to admit, the frank adoration in Bumblebee's eyes leaves her breathless.
Knock Out kisses him, cupping the back of his neck and pouring every ounce of her desire into the kiss. It's bruising, but the sound he makes, a low and thready groan, makes fire pulse through her veins.
"I want you," she breathes. "Take me to bed."
Bumblebee beams, his hands sliding to cup her hips, broad palms holding her firm. "Music to my ears," he says, and he stands, sweeping her into his arms with ease.
A sharp thrill runs through Knock Out’s body as she clings to him. "You're taking me literally, aren't you?"
"Yep!" Bumblebee breathes a laugh.
Knock Out rolls her eyes and throws her arms around his neck, her feet dangling as he carries her in the traditional bridal hold, like she’s the princess and he the dashing prince come to take her home.
She rather likes the idea.
"You are a dork," Knock Out says, dragging her fingers through the hair at his nape, nails scratching lightly.
He shivers. "Yeah, but you like me for it."
"I guess I do," Knock Out hums and presses a kiss to the corner of his jaw, right below his ear, as Bumblebee muscles them into her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. "So don't you dare--"
She doesn't manage to get the warning out before mischief sparkles in Bumblebee's eyes. He playfully tosses her onto the bed, where she bounces on the plush surface, landing without any sort of grace or appeal.
"What was that?" Bumblebee asks, cheeky, as he follows after her, like predator approaching prey, kicking off his shoes and easing onto the bed on hands and knees.
Knock Out plants a foot on his chest and narrows her eyes. "That was uncalled for. Make it up to me."
Bumblebee sits back on his heels and rests one hand on her ankle, the other lightly skimming up her calf to her knee. "Of course." He strokes the back of her knee. "What do you want?"
Knock Out licks her lips, her pulse quickening. "Your shirt," she says, prodding at his pec with a flex of her toes. "It'll look better on my floor."
"Just my shirt?" Bumblebee asks as he starts to flick open the buttons, and of course he's wearing a tank beneath. "Your forgiveness comes cheap."
"Your shirt is step one of your apology," Knock Out retorts as he shoulders out of his shirt and tosses it to the floor, the pad of her foot now resting on the bare skin of his chest. He's radiating warmth to match the heat in his eyes.
And at his groin apparently. He's hard beneath his trousers, hard enough it has to hurt the way he's straining at the fabric. Surely his undergarments are damp from his pre.
Knock Out licks her lips again.
"What's step two?" Bumblebee asks, and his voice is husky now, his hand skimming up her bare calf, past her knee, to her thigh.
Her insides clench as his fingers brush her inner thigh and rest there, warm and intent, but waiting.
"I happen to be very good with my mouth," he says, and Knock Out clenches on nothing, damp gathering between her thighs.
"Prove it," she says, chin lifted in challenge.
His eyes darken with hunger, and he wraps a hand around her ankle, lifting her foot away but not before pressing a kiss to the inside of her calf. His lips are warm and soft, and his touch even more so as he tucks her leg to the side and slides his fingers up, up, up, to the hem of her dress.
"May I?" he asks. "As beautiful as this dress is on you, I'd love to see what's beneath it."
Knock Out answers by tugging open the ties which secure her wraparound dress and letting it fall open, holding Bumblebee's gaze the entire time. He looks hungry, his breath hitching as she shoulders out of the sleeves and lightly drags her fingertips over the rise of her breasts, just above the lace of her bra.
"Primus, you're beautiful," he says. He eases between her thighs as she parts her legs for him, and the tips of his fingers drag over the hem of her panties. "How did I get so lucky?"
Knock Out's tongue flicks over her lips, her own breath hitching. "You've already got me in bed. You don't have to keep flattering me."
Bumblebee squirms until he's on his belly, resting a cheek on her inner thigh, his breath puffing warm against the fabric of her underwear. "You don't think I'm being honest?" he asks as he slides an arm beneath her leg while he continues to stroke her skin around her panty line.
Shivers radiate across Knock Out's skin, her insides clenching once more. "I think you're talking too much," she says, rather than go into a conversation about the things that make her insecure, which does not include her looks, but includes how much she fears whether or not the people in her life are genuine to her.
She trusts Bumblebee. She truly does. But experience has left scars that take more than one genuinely sweet man to heal.
"You're right. There are better uses for my mouth," Bumblebee purrs, and then his mouth is on her, warm breaths through the lace of her panties and a light pressure of a kiss over her damp center.
Knock Out sucks in a breath, fisting the pillow at her head as she resists the urge to grind down against his face. That would be impolite.
He kisses her again, a light pressure, mouthing at her, dampening her panties with his spit. He makes a low sound of want, like the smell of her arouses him, and his hips shift, a light grind against the mattress.
"I could do this for hours," he breathes and one finger drags along the soaked fabric before it hooks in the hem and tugs it aside. The first wisp of cool air puffs against her swollen folds, and Knock Out swears she can feel her juices dripping out of her.
Knock Out groans. "You're assuming I won't just grab you and shove you where I want you."
He looks up at her, eyes impossibly dark. "You're assuming I wouldn't like that." He holds her gaze as he leans forward and licks her, one long, savoring lap of his tongue across her folds and ending with a flick to her clit.
Knock Out's sigh is more of a punched exhale as she rolls her hips to match the path of his tongue, as need coils tight within her, nipples thickening into buds within the confines of her bra. She clutches at the blanket, shivering, and Bumblebee licks her again. And again.
He buries his face against her folds and laps at her as though she's the sweetest treat he's had today, little satisfied noises vibrating against her. He licks and nibbles at her, and flicks his tongue across her clit in a way that has her twitching beneath him. She's never had anyone do that, and it's unexpectedly arousing. Her thighs tremble.
Her panties are a problem.
Knock Out makes an inarticulate noise and squirms beneath him. "Take them off," she says, hooking her fingers in the lacy hem and tugging them downward.
Bumblebee looks up at her with a grin, his lips slick with her juices. "You read my mind," he purrs, and drags her underwear down her legs, achingly slow, caressing her with his fingers the entire time.
He tosses them to the floor and starts to lean forward again, but Knock Out stops him with a foot to the chest. She kind of likes the way he gives her a faintly disgruntled look, like a puppy who's been denied their favorite treat.
"Yours, too," she says with a cocked eyebrow. "I want to see the goods."
Bumblebee drops his hands to his belt, flicking open both it and the buttons beneath. "Put on some music, and I'll make it a show.”
Knock Out laughs. "Maybe next time."
"I'll start practicing." Bumblebee shimmies out of his pants and tugs off his undershirt, until he's left in the soft, cottony cling of his boxer-briefs, damp at the front and barely containing him.
Knock Out’s breath catches in her throat. She doesn’t know if she’ll taste him right now, but she will have him in her mouth eventually.
"Better?" Bumblebee asks.
Knock Out crooks her finger at him. "It's a start. Now as you were."
"Yes, ma'am." Bumblebee crawls back toward her, between her thighs, his hips nestled against her mound as he leans over her. "Kiss for luck?"
Knock Out pulls him down into a kiss, tastes herself on his tongue, and grinds up against him, the thickness of his length pressing against her clit. She moans into the kiss, hears a rumble in his chest, feels the way he unconsciously thrusts back.
Primus, she wants him inside her.
She nips at his lips, and Bumblebee moans against her mouth, one hand squeezing at her hip, the other burying in her hair, tipping her head back. She gasps as he nips at her throat, gentle enough not to leave marks, while a shiver works up her spine.
Knock Out clutches at Bumblebee's sides, runs her palms over the impressive musculature in his back, wraps her legs around his waist, pressing her heels into his magnificent ass. She digs her fingernails against his spine, and Bumblebee makes a punched out noise. His cock throbs strong enough for her to feel it, and when he raises his head to look at her, his eyes are pools of heavy want.
"There are condoms in the bedside table," she says, because while his mouth had been fantastic, there's an aching emptiness between her legs, and right now, he's the one she wants to fill it.
Bumblebee draws in a shaky breath, and he sits back on his heels, his hands stroking her thighs, her belly, her hips. “Are you sure?”
“You don’t want to?” Knock Out thinks she does a great job of hiding the quiver in her voice.
Bumblebee swallows and the fabric of his briefs grows wetter. “I definitely want to.” His voice has gone deep and husky. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Me wanting you is never going to be a problem.” He strokes her thighs again, and one hand sweeps inward, dragging through her neatly trimmed curls before his thumb flirts over her swollen folds, circling lightly over her clit.
She rises up to meet his touch, a flush of want flooding her body. Her hips circle with him, matching the rhythm, as that coil tightens and tightens in her belly.
“Primus, you’re gorgeous,” he says, and he’s palming his cock with his free hand now, squeezing it over his boxers. “Could you come just like this?” The pad of his thumb dips into her before smearing her own slick over her clit and applying a firmer pressure.
A cry catches in Knock Out’s throat, her toes curling against the sheets. Her whole body jolts.
“Yeah, I think you could,” Bumblebee says, sounding breathless and awed, and he groans as he forces his hand away from his groin.
Knock Out drags up control from the depths of her belly and knocks Bumblebee’s side with her knee. “Condoms,” she reminds him. “In the bedside table. Get them.”
"I love that you're prepared." Bumblebee leans over and rummages around before producing a strip of condoms. He tucks them by her hip and shimmies out of his boxers as well, his cock surging free.
Knock Out licks her lips. He's firm and thick, and she doesn't know if she'll ever get over the Autobot tattoo he has right above his pubic mound. It's so dorky, and so him, and she can't believe that she fell for this ridiculous man.
"I'm surprised you're not," Knock Out says as Bumblebee rips open the pack with his teeth and rolls on the sheath in one practiced motion.
Bumblebee shifts closer, his hands smoothing over her thighs. "Who says I'm not?" He grins and bends over, pressing a kiss to her belly before his mouth drags up, exhaling warm and moist along her abdomen until he's caught by the lace of her bra. "I just didn't want to presume."
His teeth tug at the clasp connecting the two cups, his exhales hot over her skin. "Can I take this off?"
The request sits molten in Knock Out's belly. "It seems only fair," she says as she drags her hands over his shoulders, his arms, fingers digging into the thick musculature. She's so wet, she has to be soaking the sheets, but that's a problem for later.
Bumblebee grins against her belly and shifts his weight to one hand, flicking the clasp open and peeling her out of the lacy garment until she's as bare as he is. He sits back, a small smile on his face, his palms hot on her belly before they slide up to cup her breasts, thumbs sweeping over the peak of her nipples.
Knock Out groans, back arching, and she digs her heels into his ass, trying to pull herself closer to him. "You're dragging this out on purpose," she accuses.
"I'm admiring and savoring," he corrects, and his thumb rubs over her nipple again, slightly calloused, a delicious friction on sensitive skin.
She locks her ankles behind his back and tugs, causing him to topple forward. "You're showing off," she says as she hooks an arm behind his neck, forcing him to curve over her. "If you don't fuck me, I'm going to do it myself," she growls.
"Mmm, that could be fun," Bumblebee murmurs. His hands slide down to cup her hips, and the first nudge of his cock glides over her.
She cants her hips and looks up at him with a grin. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she says, and flexes her thighs, pulling herself into the cradle of his hips, his dick sliding into her between one breath and the next.
They both still, Bumblebee with a punched out groan, and Knock Out with a gasp as he fills her, and she clenches down on him. He presses his forehead to hers, and even through the latex of the condom, she can feel him throbbing inside of her.
"You are a menace," he says, but with thick affection in his voice, his fingers kneading her hips as he moves in a small increment, pushing into her and withdrawing in the tiniest of thrusts.
Knock Out sucks in a breath and arches her back. It's the perfect angle to glide right over that spot, and heat pools southward, throbbing deep in her body. She clenches down on him, rocks her hips, lets the sweet thickness of him grind against that special spot until she sees stars.
Bumblebee shifts by a fraction, and Knock Out digs her nails into his back in protest, but it's only so he can slide an arm around her waist, hold her firmly to him. He sits back, on his heels, and Knock Out moans as she goes with him, until she's seated on top of him, and the head of his cock nudges against something deeper.
"Better?" Bumblebee asks as her knees push against his heels and her toes dig into the blankets. One of his hands buries in her hair, dragging through the auburn curls.
Knock Out grinds down, rides the pressure of his cock inside her, and drags her nails across his upper back. "You want me to do all the work?"
"Only because you look so beautiful doing it." Bumblebee rocks his hips, and when she rolls to meet him, the pressure inside her grows and grows and grows.
Knock Out grips the back of Bumblebee's neck and pulls him into a kiss, a slick tangle of their tongues, the bite of teeth on her lips, and his hot exhales against her mouth. Sweat paints their skin, makes them stick together, but this slow, steady grind is worth it.
Bumblebee pulls his mouth from hers, but then he's bending down, tilting her back, and he takes one of her nipples between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub. Knock Out gasps, clenches down on him harder, fingers digging into his shoulders, her thighs pressing hard against his.
He smiles up at her and mouths her nipple again, every flick of his tongue sending a jolt straight to her core. Her breathing comes in sharp bursts as the motion of his cock within her drives the need higher and higher.
He moves to her other nipple, and her fingernails dig crescents into his shoulder as he thrusts up, slow and steady, the perfect drag that makes every muscle in her body go taut. Knock Out sucks her bottom lip into her mouth to muffle her moans as it builds and builds and builds until it snaps, and orgasm rolls through her in wave after wave of heavy pleasure.
Bumblebee makes a hungry noise, exhaling hot over her nipple, and this mouth finds hers, his kiss sloppy and uncoordinated. He wraps his arms around her, solid bands of thick muscle, and pumps up into her, faster and sharper, sending small bursts of pleasure through her body.
"Is this... okay?" he asks, though he sounds strained, every inch of him tense and trembling. "You're not too sensitive?"
Knock Out slides her arms over his shoulders and leans forward, changing the angle of him inside her, making it easier for him to thrust. "Don't stop," she says as another snap of his hips grinds his cock deep, and she shudders.
Bumblebee moans and buries his face against her shoulder, tucked into her neck, exhaling hot and damp over her throat. He pushes up into her, faster and harder, and she sinks down to meet him, her breasts pressed to his chest, his muscles flexing beneath her fingertips. He pants, teeth scraping delicately against her skin, and then he moans long and low. He comes, hips stuttering, his arms tightening into bands around her torso.
Knock Out gasps, riding him through it, until his mouth drags back to hers and he kisses her, slow and deep and savoring, the tight grip of his arms easing. She circles her hips, and he shudders beneath her, like he's a bit too sensitive. Knock Out grins to herself, maybe a touch sadistic as she clenches down, and he jerks.
"That can't be all you have for me,” she challenges, and drags her mouth along his jaw, leaving nibbles in her wake and exhaling against the shell of his ear.
"I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve," Bumblebee says, and then Knock Out is tipping backward, bouncing on the bed. Bumblebee crawls between her legs, between her thighs, bending down to seal his mouth over her.
Knock Out's back arches, her hands going to his head, fingers carding through his hair as he eats her out with focused intent. Licking and sucking and lapping at her, tapping her clit with his tongue, sliding two calloused fingers into her and pressing up-up-up on that spot. Stars dance at the back of Knock Out’s eyes.
Knock Out gasps, trembling, riding the press of his fingers, the lash of his tongue, and when he hums, the vibrations roar through her body. Her toes curl, her body tenses, and she comes again, heels digging into the bed as she rides Bumblebee's face and the delicious suction of his mouth on her clit.
"Primus," she gasps, and sags into the mattress, her limbs like noodles.
Bumblebee chuckles and crawls over her, grinning like he's won some kind of contest. "Did I pass, milady?"
Knock Out drags in thick breaths, her heart hammering in her chest. “I guess you’ll do,” she pants and cups his cheek, rubbing her thumb over his slick-wet lips, a bit swollen from the press of her teeth.
"Oh, no. Guess I'll have to try harder in the future." Bumblebee bends down for a quick kiss before he slides off the side of the bed. He tugs off the condom, tying it shut. "I'll fetch a warm towel. Maybe that'll get me a higher score."
Knock Out turns on her side to watch him as he stands, admiring the flex of his muscles, the curve of his ass. "It can't hurt.”
He leans over the bed and kisses her again. "Be right back."
"You'd better."
Bumblebee flashes her one of those impossibly charming grins and vanishes into the adjoining bathroom.
Knock Out sighs to herself and rolls onto her back, sweeping her hair into a loose knot on top of her head. She grabs the remote and turns up the ceiling fan as well. It's hot in here, and the room smells of sex and Bee's cologne, not that she minds one bit.
She rolls away from the wet spot as Bumblebee reappears, a damp cloth in hand. He drops one knee on the bed and leans in toward her. "May I?"
"You truly are the perfect gentleman, aren't you?" Knock Out asks as she parts her thighs to give him room to wipe her clean.
She's sensitive still, and she shivers as he gently applies the warm cloth, feeling intensely spoiled.
"I have my moments." Bumblebee tosses the washcloth in the general direction of her laundry bin and slides onto the bed beside her. "I think we missed part of the movie."
Distantly, the title screen plays on repeat.
"I think we missed the ending," Knock Out corrects, and rests her head on his shoulder. She flattens her palm on his abdomen, her hand rising and falling with every breath he takes.
His arm curls beneath her shoulders, and he starts to trail his fingers through her hair in a way that makes her want to purr. "Not the one that counts."
Knock Out lightly drags her fingernails over his belly, the softness threatening to gather at his mid-section. Someone’s been indulging in a bit too much pizza. "You are every bit the charmer your father is."
"I'll take that compliment, thank you." Bumblebee presses a kiss to her hair. "Did you know that pancakes are my speciality?"
Knock Out blinks. "I didn't," she says, unable to hide the confusion in her voice.
Bumblebee tilts his foot against hers playfully. "How about I make you some for breakfast?"
Oh.
Knock Out rises up on her elbow to look at him, a smile curving her lips. "I'd like that."
She leans in to kiss him, and he cups her face, holding her there for a soft and sweet kiss. Her pulse flutters, and warmth pools in her belly. Bumblebee might have voiced how lucky he felt, but Knock Out finds those same emotions echoing in her now.
Her life has been a series of desperate struggles as long as she can remember. She's done what she's needed to survive, some of it she regrets, some of it she doesn't. She'd lost herself at one point, before finding herself again long enough to defect for her own survival.
There's a lot Knock Out has done to make it to this point.
Bumblebee makes her feel like it was worth it.
"If you want pancakes, we have to sleep first," Bumblebee says as she settles back into the planes of his body. He's not so much curves, but Knock Out finds they fit together well enough all the same.
"Or nap at the very least," Knock Out suggests and lightly drags her finger over his nipple. "Long enough to recharge for another round?"
Bumblebee visibly shivers and captures her wrist, pulling her hand to his mouth to press a kiss to her fingertips. "I have my hands full with you, don't I?"
"I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow," she points out.
"Neither do I." He keeps her hand, folding his fingers through hers and resting them both on his chest. "Nap it is, then."
"But beneath the blankets," Knock Out says as a bit of a chill starts to creep in, despite the warmth of Bumblebee's body. "And after we turn off the movie." Which, by the way, is still merrily chiming away on the ever-repeating title screen.
Bumblebee laughs. "I'm on it."
He extricates himself from the bed, heading out for the living room but not before scooping his boxers from the floor. He looks at them, wrinkles his nose, and tosses them back down, walking bare-assed out the bedroom door.
It's such a cute ass.
Knock Out grins and slides beneath the covers, waiting for his return. A quick nap, perhaps a shared shower, another round or two, and then breakfast in the morning.
This night could not have gone more perfectly.
***
Universe: Transformers Prime AU, Humanformers
Characters: Bumblebee/Knock Out
Rated: M
Enticements: Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Dirty Talk, Light dom/sub play
Description: Knock Out’s done a lot of things to survive until this point: some things she regrets, most she doesn’t. But Bumblebee makes her feel like it was all worth it.
For Milagrosen
Knock Out is not nervous.
She is meticulous and keen on looking on her best. Checking her reflection, re-applying her lipstick, tucking back flyaway strands of hair -- all are necessary to ensure she presents an alluring, inviting picture. It's how she wants the world to see her.
It has nothing to do with anxiety.
She's not watching the clock because she's worried. She simply wants to make sure she's not caught unawares.
Her apartment is cleaner than it's been in weeks. Her bed has fresh sheets, not that she's expecting anything. She's also not not expecting anything, hence the brand-new undergarments, the fine lace trim feeling positively divine against her skin.
Perhaps Bumblebee will see them tonight, perhaps not. There's nothing wrong with being prepared for all eventualities.
Her doorbell rings while she's in the middle of rearranging the cushions on the couch for maximum comfort. Knock Out glances at the clock and smiles.
Right on time. That's Bumblebee in a nutshell.
Knock Out takes in a deep breath and checks her reflection in the hall mirror. Her hair falls over her shoulders in bright red waves, and her crimson lipstick is neatly applied, not a smudge in sight. Her dress is the perfect color to accent her skin, and it swishes around her knees in an appealing length.
Wonderful.
Now she can answer the door.
The war is not so distant that Knock Out doesn't peer through the peephole first, and smiles when she sees Bumblebee on the other side, his shape distorted, but as handsome as ever. He's shifting his weight from side to side, hands stuffed in his pockets, a bottle tucked under one arm.
Knock Out's heart flutters.
She throws the deadbolt and swings open the door. "Right on time," she says as Bumblebee smiles at her, blue eyes bright and radiant.
"I was actually early," Bumblebee says with a little laugh. "You didn't see me pacing back and forth outside your door."
Knock Out chuckles as she steps aside, leaving room for Bumblebee to enter, but tilting her head to accept the gentle kiss he presses to her cheek. "You're lucky security knows who you are."
"I may have bribed them." Bumblebee's hand rests on her waist, and he looks at her with a quiet whistle. "You look amazing."
Heat stains Knock Out's cheeks. She doesn't know how Bumblebee manages to sound genuine every time, but he does.
"Thanks." She openly ogles his chosen outfit for the evening. The blue of the sleek button up pairs nicely with the dark slacks, setting off the dark brown of his skin, and making his eyes seem even bluer. "Same to you, Abueille."
Bumblebee grins. "You can thank Optimus. Apparently, my choice of outfit for the evening was unacceptable. He made me change."
Knock Out's palm rests on Bumblebee's chest, skimming over the soft silk and the broad musculature beneath. "I'll send him a gift basket," she teases and her other hand taps the bottle still tucked under Bumblebee's arm. "I suppose he sent you with this, too?"
"Oops. Forgot." Bumblebee slips the bottle into his hand and presents it to her label-forward. "I thought we could share this over dinner. And no, this was all my idea. I'm not completely without my own charm."
Knock Out plucks the wine from his hands, raising her eyebrows at the label. Bumblebee must have been paying attention when she was waxing on about her favorites because this is one of the top tier vineyards.
"Wine and pizza. Sounds like the perfect date," she says.
"Because you're classy, and I'm not?" Bumblebee asks with a laugh. His eyes sparkle with gentle humor. "I thought so, too."
Knock Out hums, and realizes too late that they're still lingering in the doorway, pressed awkwardly together, though every point of contact sizzles with anticipation.
"You're classy in your own way," she says, and tugs him inside, closing the door before any of her fellow residents can get too nosy. It's not so much that she and Bumblebee are a secret, but they are trying to be discreet at the moment.
Tensions between the two factions are still at a steady simmer, and neither she nor Bumblebee want to be the ones to turn up the heat and be the cause of it boiling over back into physical conflict.
"I'm really not," Bumblebee says, hands in his pockets as he peers into doorways, familiarizing himself with his surroundings.
This is the first time he's been in her apartment, and they're both keenly aware of this fact. They've spent a lot of time in quiet restaurants or outside the city, and on one special occasion, a cozy night in Bumblebee's habsuite, though they had been chaste and proper.
Knock Out rests her hand on his lower back. "Would you like a tour?"
"Sure!" He turns in toward her with a smile, and his eyes wander over her again with clear appreciation.
Knock Out preens.
"It's not much," she says, but to be fair, most of the housing on a post-war Cybertron isn't much.
Knock Out's own apartment complex had been renovated as quickly as the construction crew could manage from a building that had mostly survived Kaon's bombing. The foundation was solid, it still had all four walls, and there was minimal exterior damage.
She, at least, had an actual apartment. There were other soldiers who were still housed in former hotels where they had to resort to communal kitchens.
"I think it's actually bigger than mine," Bumblebee says.
"It only looks bigger because I keep it clean," Knock Out teases, and hooks her arm through his, pulling him to the right hand doorway. She gestures with the bottle of wine. "Kitchen through here. Emergency exit through the window to a fire escape."
Bumblebee smiles down at her. "You know me so well."
"You're not the only one who has to have an exit strategy," Knock Out reminds him. She steers Bumblebee down the hall. "Bathroom here to the left. No tub unfortunately." She sniffs her disappointment.
She would kill to have a large enough tub for a long, relaxing soak. But alas, it is not to be at the moment.
Bumblebee peers in through the doorway. "Seashell motif, I see. A timeless classic." He waggles his eyebrows.
Knock Out rolls her eyes. "We have limited options for decor." She eyes him up and down. "Besides, you have no room to talk. You literally have the Autobadge on everything you own."
"Guilty as charged."
Primus, he's such a nerd.
Knock Out pulls him toward the last door on the hall. "And this, of course, is my bedroom."
"The second most important room in the apartment," Bumblebee says as he takes in the queen-sized bed, the plain furniture, the windows with their shutters drawn.
Knock Out has a great view, but she's not an idiot either. A sniper placed on the opposite roof could easily fire right through her window and take her out before anyone knew there was a problem. She hadn't survived the war by being foolish.
"Second most important?" Knock Out echoes.
Bumblebee pats his stomach with his free hand. "The kitchen is number one."
"Is that your very unsubtle way of telling me we need to go ahead and order the pizza?" Knock Out asks with a laugh. Primus, he's ridiculous.
He also eats like a racehorse, and yet, still manages to have the body of a god. Granted, he works at it. Knock Out might have possibly watched Bumblebee in the gym and on the training grounds during her breaks.
As if on cue, Bumblebee's stomach audibly grumbles. "...Yes?"
Knock Out chuckles. "I know you too well," she says and steers him back toward the main room. "It should be here any minute now."
Bumblebee halts in the middle of the hallway, and when he doesn't want to be moved, he isn't. Knock Out stops with him, a question on her lips, but Bumblebee bends down and kisses her, tongue flicking over her lips, his free arm curving around her waist.
Knock Out hums, head tilted up to receive him, a warm pool in her belly and a shiver down her spine. He presses against her, a long line of firm muscle radiating heat, and Knock Out opens her mouth to him, deepening the kiss. A slow throb rolls through her body, gathering in her pelvis.
She curves a hand around the back of his head, keeping him in place. Her fingernails scratch over his scalp, and Bumblebee shivers, a quiet moan vibrating in his throat. He nips at her bottom lip, tongue flicking over it to ease the sting, and Knock Out chases him when he pulls back, breathless with want.
Her doorbell chimes.
Of course her doorbell chimes.
“I think that’s the pizza,” Bumblebee says against her mouth. His stomach growls as if it is aware their dinner has arrived.
Knock Out sighs and slides out of his embrace, saluting him with the wine bottle. “I’ll get some glasses and plates. You answer the door.”
“Am I supposed to pay for it, too?” Bumblebee calls after her.
Knock Out pops her head out to grin at him. “Make sure you leave them a good tip. Don’t be cheap, abeille.” She ducks back into the kitchen as Bumblebee mutters something she doesn’t quite catch.
Knock Out rummages up some plates, wine glasses, and napkins before bustling into the living room. Pizza is not meant to be consumed at a table with candles and flowers. It’s meant to be eaten in front of a television with something sufficiently low-quality playing in the background. The wine, she decides, is what makes it a date.
Bumblebee joins her in the living room a few minutes later, the smell of tomatos and meat and cheese wafting from the box in his hands. “Dinner is served,” he declares as he drops onto the couch beside her and plunks the box down on the coffee table in the midst of Knock Out’s prep.
“Thank you, darling.” Knock Out hands him one of the glasses of wine, holding the other in anticipation of a toast. “To a very enjoyable evening for the both of us.”
Bumblebee lifts his glass. “And the best company a man could ask for,” he says, lightly clinking his glass against hers.
Knock Out smiles behind a sip of her wine, the dry sweetness rolling over her tongue. “I’ve put on an old movie for us,” she says as she sets the wine aside and hands Bumblebee a plate so he can choose his own slice. “Any objections?”
He eyes the title screen. “The Princess Bride?”
“What? It’s a classic!”
“It is. I just didn’t realize you knew it.” Bumblebee plops several cheesy slices on his plate, and though Knock Out had ordered a large, she’s aware there won’t be any leftovers. “It’s one of my favorites.”
Knock Out leans back in the couch, feet tucked to the side and plate balanced on her lap. “That’s because you have excellent taste.”
“True. I’m dating you after all,” Bumblebee says with a grin. He bumps her with his shoulder and takes a huge bite of the pizza, tomato sauce immediately staining the corner of his mouth.
“Are we?” Knock Out asks, a tiny thrill fluttering along her pulse. “Officially dating, I mean.”
Bumblebee scrubs a napkin over his mouth. “I’d like us to be,” he says. “I feel like we are, even if we haven’t announced it to everyone yet.”
Knock Out picks the olives off her slice -- she’d only gotten them because Bumblebee loves them. “Would you want to tell people?”
Would you want to claim me? That’s what she really wants to ask, but it sounds pathetic even to her internal thoughts, and Knock Out’s not ready to betray that sort of weakness. She knows very well what she is -- a former Decepticon who turned traitor as soon as it was clear the Decepticons were not going to win. She’d made her choice to survive, but there are many on both sides of the line who see her as less than.
“Absolutely.” Bumblebee tucks some hair behind her ear with his free hand, fingers lingering along the curve of her jaw. “If you were okay with it, I mean. It might bring you attention you don’t want.”
Knock Out turns her head into the cup of his palm and presses a kiss against his fingertips. “I’m not saying we should make an announcement on the newsnet or anything, but…” She smiles, her lips curving against his fingers. “I can understand wanting to brag.”
Bumblebee laughs. “Well, it would be nice to let people know how lucky I am.” He says it so matter-of-fact, without hesitation, as if he truly doesn’t mind the political shitstorm that’s going to erupt as soon as he tells people he’s dating an ex-Decepticon.
Knock Out ducks her head to hide the pleasure flushing her face and buries it behind another long sip of her wine for courage. “Then we’re dating,” she says. “And you can tell whoever you want.”
His beaming smile makes the concession worth it, makes everything Knock Out is going to weather, worth it.
They eat their pizza. They watch the movie. They finish half a bottle of wine, until the alcohol settles warm in Knock Out's belly and pulses ease throughout her body. She's not tipsy, but she's relaxed, and by the time the pizza box is empty, she's tucked into Bumblebee's side, her head resting on his shoulder as hero and heroine make their way through a dangerous swamp.
Bumblebee's arm is around her, holding her close, hand stroking her shoulder. And occasionally, he turns his head to nuzzle her, brushing a kiss over her forehead, until the warmth in her belly is a comfortable buzz.
She rests her hand on his chest, toying with the open buttons at the top of his shirt, occasionally daring to brush the tips of her fingers over his bare skin. Every time she does, his breath hitches, and his pulse quickens.
There is power in this, Knock Out knows. Power in a man restraining himself for her sake, when it's obvious he wants to go further, but not without explicit permission.
The warmth in her belly pools lower, gathering in her groin. Knock Out sucks on her bottom lip, ignoring the movie, as she lets her fingers dance upward, along his collarbone, along his throat, across the side of his neck. His skin pebbles beneath her, a line of goosebumps rising, and she wants to press a kiss to his throat, leave an impression of her lipstick and then her teeth.
His thumb sweeps over her shoulder, up and down, occasionally brushing the bare skin beneath her short sleeve. Her skin tingles, and Knock Out licks her lips. She drags her fingernail over Bumblebee's throat, and feels it bob as he swallows.
She looks up, and he's looking down at her, eyes bright and warm. It's a simple matter to cup her hand around the back of his head and tug him down for a kiss, sweet and gentle. His tongue sweeps across her lips, and she opens for him, sighing as his tongue tangles with hers. He tightens his hold on her shoulder, and then his free hand is cupping her face, thumb caressing her cheek.
Knock Out sighs into the kiss and pushes up, pressing against him, wanting more. She drags her fingers through his hair and cups her hand around his neck, and then his hands are on her waist, warm and perfect, thumbs rubbing along her hipbones through her shirt.
She's in his lap before she knows entirely what she's doing, knees pressed in on his thighs, the heat of his groin nestled against hers. He's starting to thicken within his slacks, and a low groan of want vibrates in his chest.
Knock Out kisses him like she's starving for it, and his hands roam over her back, his fingers dragging down her dress, until he cups her ass and squeezes. Knock Out groans against his lips, and when she pulls back, her lipstick is smeared over his face.
She smiles as she thumbs it away. "I think we're missing the movie."
Bumblebee is flushed beneath his dark skin, his eyes lidded and hungry. "The way I see it, we have two choices," he says. "We can stop what we're doing and watch it, or you can let me kiss you again. I know what I'm in favor of."
Knock Out does, too.
She gets a fistful of his collared shirt and pulls him to her for a fierce kiss, their teeth briefly clacking before his mouth opens under hers. Bumblebee groans against her lips, and he squeezes her arse, pulling her tight against him. He warms up beneath her, radiating heat, and she need only roll her hips to feel the thickening at his groin.
All because of her.
Suddenly, there’s nothing in the universe Knock Out wants more than to peel Bumblebee out of his clothes, lay him naked across her bed, and consume every inch of him until it all belongs to her. She intends to ruin him for anyone else, to lay a claim no one else can contend.
She drags her hands through his hair, scrapes her fingernails over his scalp, and he shudders beneath her. She pulls his head back, bares his throat to her, and he allows it. His eyes are a gleam of burning blue, and when she puts her mouth on his throat, a gentle pressure with her teeth, the groan in his chest vibrates through his whole body.
“Primus,” he breathes, bucking up against her, hands dragging up her back, getting caught on the silk of her dress.
Knock Out pulls back with a grin, delighted to see an imprint of her lips left behind, courtesy of her lipstick. It’s faint, since most of her lipstick has been worn away by now, but it’s still a point of pride.
“Did I make you forget my name already?” she teases as she rolls her hips down.
Bumblebee makes a punched out noise and goes back to cupping her ass again, pulling her into him as he plants his feet and grinds up. “Never,” he breathes. He lifts his chin, gives her a crooked smile. He grasps for one of her hands and draws it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingertips. “May I take you to bed, Knock Out?”
Bumblebee is truly his father’s son. The polite, proper query is everything a Prime’s kid has been taught, but with Bumblebee, these airs always feel genuine. He treats her like she matters, like she belongs on an equally high pedestal.
“Or this is fine, too,” he says, before she can even gather her fractured thoughts into a coherent answer. “I’m not opposed to some heavy petting. Whatever speed you want, I’m yours.” He breathes against her palm, pressing a kiss to it, and looks up at her.
A lady could get dizzy under the kind of focus Bumblebee gives her. Knock Out has to admit, the frank adoration in Bumblebee's eyes leaves her breathless.
Knock Out kisses him, cupping the back of his neck and pouring every ounce of her desire into the kiss. It's bruising, but the sound he makes, a low and thready groan, makes fire pulse through her veins.
"I want you," she breathes. "Take me to bed."
Bumblebee beams, his hands sliding to cup her hips, broad palms holding her firm. "Music to my ears," he says, and he stands, sweeping her into his arms with ease.
A sharp thrill runs through Knock Out’s body as she clings to him. "You're taking me literally, aren't you?"
"Yep!" Bumblebee breathes a laugh.
Knock Out rolls her eyes and throws her arms around his neck, her feet dangling as he carries her in the traditional bridal hold, like she’s the princess and he the dashing prince come to take her home.
She rather likes the idea.
"You are a dork," Knock Out says, dragging her fingers through the hair at his nape, nails scratching lightly.
He shivers. "Yeah, but you like me for it."
"I guess I do," Knock Out hums and presses a kiss to the corner of his jaw, right below his ear, as Bumblebee muscles them into her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. "So don't you dare--"
She doesn't manage to get the warning out before mischief sparkles in Bumblebee's eyes. He playfully tosses her onto the bed, where she bounces on the plush surface, landing without any sort of grace or appeal.
"What was that?" Bumblebee asks, cheeky, as he follows after her, like predator approaching prey, kicking off his shoes and easing onto the bed on hands and knees.
Knock Out plants a foot on his chest and narrows her eyes. "That was uncalled for. Make it up to me."
Bumblebee sits back on his heels and rests one hand on her ankle, the other lightly skimming up her calf to her knee. "Of course." He strokes the back of her knee. "What do you want?"
Knock Out licks her lips, her pulse quickening. "Your shirt," she says, prodding at his pec with a flex of her toes. "It'll look better on my floor."
"Just my shirt?" Bumblebee asks as he starts to flick open the buttons, and of course he's wearing a tank beneath. "Your forgiveness comes cheap."
"Your shirt is step one of your apology," Knock Out retorts as he shoulders out of his shirt and tosses it to the floor, the pad of her foot now resting on the bare skin of his chest. He's radiating warmth to match the heat in his eyes.
And at his groin apparently. He's hard beneath his trousers, hard enough it has to hurt the way he's straining at the fabric. Surely his undergarments are damp from his pre.
Knock Out licks her lips again.
"What's step two?" Bumblebee asks, and his voice is husky now, his hand skimming up her bare calf, past her knee, to her thigh.
Her insides clench as his fingers brush her inner thigh and rest there, warm and intent, but waiting.
"I happen to be very good with my mouth," he says, and Knock Out clenches on nothing, damp gathering between her thighs.
"Prove it," she says, chin lifted in challenge.
His eyes darken with hunger, and he wraps a hand around her ankle, lifting her foot away but not before pressing a kiss to the inside of her calf. His lips are warm and soft, and his touch even more so as he tucks her leg to the side and slides his fingers up, up, up, to the hem of her dress.
"May I?" he asks. "As beautiful as this dress is on you, I'd love to see what's beneath it."
Knock Out answers by tugging open the ties which secure her wraparound dress and letting it fall open, holding Bumblebee's gaze the entire time. He looks hungry, his breath hitching as she shoulders out of the sleeves and lightly drags her fingertips over the rise of her breasts, just above the lace of her bra.
"Primus, you're beautiful," he says. He eases between her thighs as she parts her legs for him, and the tips of his fingers drag over the hem of her panties. "How did I get so lucky?"
Knock Out's tongue flicks over her lips, her own breath hitching. "You've already got me in bed. You don't have to keep flattering me."
Bumblebee squirms until he's on his belly, resting a cheek on her inner thigh, his breath puffing warm against the fabric of her underwear. "You don't think I'm being honest?" he asks as he slides an arm beneath her leg while he continues to stroke her skin around her panty line.
Shivers radiate across Knock Out's skin, her insides clenching once more. "I think you're talking too much," she says, rather than go into a conversation about the things that make her insecure, which does not include her looks, but includes how much she fears whether or not the people in her life are genuine to her.
She trusts Bumblebee. She truly does. But experience has left scars that take more than one genuinely sweet man to heal.
"You're right. There are better uses for my mouth," Bumblebee purrs, and then his mouth is on her, warm breaths through the lace of her panties and a light pressure of a kiss over her damp center.
Knock Out sucks in a breath, fisting the pillow at her head as she resists the urge to grind down against his face. That would be impolite.
He kisses her again, a light pressure, mouthing at her, dampening her panties with his spit. He makes a low sound of want, like the smell of her arouses him, and his hips shift, a light grind against the mattress.
"I could do this for hours," he breathes and one finger drags along the soaked fabric before it hooks in the hem and tugs it aside. The first wisp of cool air puffs against her swollen folds, and Knock Out swears she can feel her juices dripping out of her.
Knock Out groans. "You're assuming I won't just grab you and shove you where I want you."
He looks up at her, eyes impossibly dark. "You're assuming I wouldn't like that." He holds her gaze as he leans forward and licks her, one long, savoring lap of his tongue across her folds and ending with a flick to her clit.
Knock Out's sigh is more of a punched exhale as she rolls her hips to match the path of his tongue, as need coils tight within her, nipples thickening into buds within the confines of her bra. She clutches at the blanket, shivering, and Bumblebee licks her again. And again.
He buries his face against her folds and laps at her as though she's the sweetest treat he's had today, little satisfied noises vibrating against her. He licks and nibbles at her, and flicks his tongue across her clit in a way that has her twitching beneath him. She's never had anyone do that, and it's unexpectedly arousing. Her thighs tremble.
Her panties are a problem.
Knock Out makes an inarticulate noise and squirms beneath him. "Take them off," she says, hooking her fingers in the lacy hem and tugging them downward.
Bumblebee looks up at her with a grin, his lips slick with her juices. "You read my mind," he purrs, and drags her underwear down her legs, achingly slow, caressing her with his fingers the entire time.
He tosses them to the floor and starts to lean forward again, but Knock Out stops him with a foot to the chest. She kind of likes the way he gives her a faintly disgruntled look, like a puppy who's been denied their favorite treat.
"Yours, too," she says with a cocked eyebrow. "I want to see the goods."
Bumblebee drops his hands to his belt, flicking open both it and the buttons beneath. "Put on some music, and I'll make it a show.”
Knock Out laughs. "Maybe next time."
"I'll start practicing." Bumblebee shimmies out of his pants and tugs off his undershirt, until he's left in the soft, cottony cling of his boxer-briefs, damp at the front and barely containing him.
Knock Out’s breath catches in her throat. She doesn’t know if she’ll taste him right now, but she will have him in her mouth eventually.
"Better?" Bumblebee asks.
Knock Out crooks her finger at him. "It's a start. Now as you were."
"Yes, ma'am." Bumblebee crawls back toward her, between her thighs, his hips nestled against her mound as he leans over her. "Kiss for luck?"
Knock Out pulls him down into a kiss, tastes herself on his tongue, and grinds up against him, the thickness of his length pressing against her clit. She moans into the kiss, hears a rumble in his chest, feels the way he unconsciously thrusts back.
Primus, she wants him inside her.
She nips at his lips, and Bumblebee moans against her mouth, one hand squeezing at her hip, the other burying in her hair, tipping her head back. She gasps as he nips at her throat, gentle enough not to leave marks, while a shiver works up her spine.
Knock Out clutches at Bumblebee's sides, runs her palms over the impressive musculature in his back, wraps her legs around his waist, pressing her heels into his magnificent ass. She digs her fingernails against his spine, and Bumblebee makes a punched out noise. His cock throbs strong enough for her to feel it, and when he raises his head to look at her, his eyes are pools of heavy want.
"There are condoms in the bedside table," she says, because while his mouth had been fantastic, there's an aching emptiness between her legs, and right now, he's the one she wants to fill it.
Bumblebee draws in a shaky breath, and he sits back on his heels, his hands stroking her thighs, her belly, her hips. “Are you sure?”
“You don’t want to?” Knock Out thinks she does a great job of hiding the quiver in her voice.
Bumblebee swallows and the fabric of his briefs grows wetter. “I definitely want to.” His voice has gone deep and husky. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Me wanting you is never going to be a problem.” He strokes her thighs again, and one hand sweeps inward, dragging through her neatly trimmed curls before his thumb flirts over her swollen folds, circling lightly over her clit.
She rises up to meet his touch, a flush of want flooding her body. Her hips circle with him, matching the rhythm, as that coil tightens and tightens in her belly.
“Primus, you’re gorgeous,” he says, and he’s palming his cock with his free hand now, squeezing it over his boxers. “Could you come just like this?” The pad of his thumb dips into her before smearing her own slick over her clit and applying a firmer pressure.
A cry catches in Knock Out’s throat, her toes curling against the sheets. Her whole body jolts.
“Yeah, I think you could,” Bumblebee says, sounding breathless and awed, and he groans as he forces his hand away from his groin.
Knock Out drags up control from the depths of her belly and knocks Bumblebee’s side with her knee. “Condoms,” she reminds him. “In the bedside table. Get them.”
"I love that you're prepared." Bumblebee leans over and rummages around before producing a strip of condoms. He tucks them by her hip and shimmies out of his boxers as well, his cock surging free.
Knock Out licks her lips. He's firm and thick, and she doesn't know if she'll ever get over the Autobot tattoo he has right above his pubic mound. It's so dorky, and so him, and she can't believe that she fell for this ridiculous man.
"I'm surprised you're not," Knock Out says as Bumblebee rips open the pack with his teeth and rolls on the sheath in one practiced motion.
Bumblebee shifts closer, his hands smoothing over her thighs. "Who says I'm not?" He grins and bends over, pressing a kiss to her belly before his mouth drags up, exhaling warm and moist along her abdomen until he's caught by the lace of her bra. "I just didn't want to presume."
His teeth tug at the clasp connecting the two cups, his exhales hot over her skin. "Can I take this off?"
The request sits molten in Knock Out's belly. "It seems only fair," she says as she drags her hands over his shoulders, his arms, fingers digging into the thick musculature. She's so wet, she has to be soaking the sheets, but that's a problem for later.
Bumblebee grins against her belly and shifts his weight to one hand, flicking the clasp open and peeling her out of the lacy garment until she's as bare as he is. He sits back, a small smile on his face, his palms hot on her belly before they slide up to cup her breasts, thumbs sweeping over the peak of her nipples.
Knock Out groans, back arching, and she digs her heels into his ass, trying to pull herself closer to him. "You're dragging this out on purpose," she accuses.
"I'm admiring and savoring," he corrects, and his thumb rubs over her nipple again, slightly calloused, a delicious friction on sensitive skin.
She locks her ankles behind his back and tugs, causing him to topple forward. "You're showing off," she says as she hooks an arm behind his neck, forcing him to curve over her. "If you don't fuck me, I'm going to do it myself," she growls.
"Mmm, that could be fun," Bumblebee murmurs. His hands slide down to cup her hips, and the first nudge of his cock glides over her.
She cants her hips and looks up at him with a grin. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she says, and flexes her thighs, pulling herself into the cradle of his hips, his dick sliding into her between one breath and the next.
They both still, Bumblebee with a punched out groan, and Knock Out with a gasp as he fills her, and she clenches down on him. He presses his forehead to hers, and even through the latex of the condom, she can feel him throbbing inside of her.
"You are a menace," he says, but with thick affection in his voice, his fingers kneading her hips as he moves in a small increment, pushing into her and withdrawing in the tiniest of thrusts.
Knock Out sucks in a breath and arches her back. It's the perfect angle to glide right over that spot, and heat pools southward, throbbing deep in her body. She clenches down on him, rocks her hips, lets the sweet thickness of him grind against that special spot until she sees stars.
Bumblebee shifts by a fraction, and Knock Out digs her nails into his back in protest, but it's only so he can slide an arm around her waist, hold her firmly to him. He sits back, on his heels, and Knock Out moans as she goes with him, until she's seated on top of him, and the head of his cock nudges against something deeper.
"Better?" Bumblebee asks as her knees push against his heels and her toes dig into the blankets. One of his hands buries in her hair, dragging through the auburn curls.
Knock Out grinds down, rides the pressure of his cock inside her, and drags her nails across his upper back. "You want me to do all the work?"
"Only because you look so beautiful doing it." Bumblebee rocks his hips, and when she rolls to meet him, the pressure inside her grows and grows and grows.
Knock Out grips the back of Bumblebee's neck and pulls him into a kiss, a slick tangle of their tongues, the bite of teeth on her lips, and his hot exhales against her mouth. Sweat paints their skin, makes them stick together, but this slow, steady grind is worth it.
Bumblebee pulls his mouth from hers, but then he's bending down, tilting her back, and he takes one of her nipples between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub. Knock Out gasps, clenches down on him harder, fingers digging into his shoulders, her thighs pressing hard against his.
He smiles up at her and mouths her nipple again, every flick of his tongue sending a jolt straight to her core. Her breathing comes in sharp bursts as the motion of his cock within her drives the need higher and higher.
He moves to her other nipple, and her fingernails dig crescents into his shoulder as he thrusts up, slow and steady, the perfect drag that makes every muscle in her body go taut. Knock Out sucks her bottom lip into her mouth to muffle her moans as it builds and builds and builds until it snaps, and orgasm rolls through her in wave after wave of heavy pleasure.
Bumblebee makes a hungry noise, exhaling hot over her nipple, and this mouth finds hers, his kiss sloppy and uncoordinated. He wraps his arms around her, solid bands of thick muscle, and pumps up into her, faster and sharper, sending small bursts of pleasure through her body.
"Is this... okay?" he asks, though he sounds strained, every inch of him tense and trembling. "You're not too sensitive?"
Knock Out slides her arms over his shoulders and leans forward, changing the angle of him inside her, making it easier for him to thrust. "Don't stop," she says as another snap of his hips grinds his cock deep, and she shudders.
Bumblebee moans and buries his face against her shoulder, tucked into her neck, exhaling hot and damp over her throat. He pushes up into her, faster and harder, and she sinks down to meet him, her breasts pressed to his chest, his muscles flexing beneath her fingertips. He pants, teeth scraping delicately against her skin, and then he moans long and low. He comes, hips stuttering, his arms tightening into bands around her torso.
Knock Out gasps, riding him through it, until his mouth drags back to hers and he kisses her, slow and deep and savoring, the tight grip of his arms easing. She circles her hips, and he shudders beneath her, like he's a bit too sensitive. Knock Out grins to herself, maybe a touch sadistic as she clenches down, and he jerks.
"That can't be all you have for me,” she challenges, and drags her mouth along his jaw, leaving nibbles in her wake and exhaling against the shell of his ear.
"I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve," Bumblebee says, and then Knock Out is tipping backward, bouncing on the bed. Bumblebee crawls between her legs, between her thighs, bending down to seal his mouth over her.
Knock Out's back arches, her hands going to his head, fingers carding through his hair as he eats her out with focused intent. Licking and sucking and lapping at her, tapping her clit with his tongue, sliding two calloused fingers into her and pressing up-up-up on that spot. Stars dance at the back of Knock Out’s eyes.
Knock Out gasps, trembling, riding the press of his fingers, the lash of his tongue, and when he hums, the vibrations roar through her body. Her toes curl, her body tenses, and she comes again, heels digging into the bed as she rides Bumblebee's face and the delicious suction of his mouth on her clit.
"Primus," she gasps, and sags into the mattress, her limbs like noodles.
Bumblebee chuckles and crawls over her, grinning like he's won some kind of contest. "Did I pass, milady?"
Knock Out drags in thick breaths, her heart hammering in her chest. “I guess you’ll do,” she pants and cups his cheek, rubbing her thumb over his slick-wet lips, a bit swollen from the press of her teeth.
"Oh, no. Guess I'll have to try harder in the future." Bumblebee bends down for a quick kiss before he slides off the side of the bed. He tugs off the condom, tying it shut. "I'll fetch a warm towel. Maybe that'll get me a higher score."
Knock Out turns on her side to watch him as he stands, admiring the flex of his muscles, the curve of his ass. "It can't hurt.”
He leans over the bed and kisses her again. "Be right back."
"You'd better."
Bumblebee flashes her one of those impossibly charming grins and vanishes into the adjoining bathroom.
Knock Out sighs to herself and rolls onto her back, sweeping her hair into a loose knot on top of her head. She grabs the remote and turns up the ceiling fan as well. It's hot in here, and the room smells of sex and Bee's cologne, not that she minds one bit.
She rolls away from the wet spot as Bumblebee reappears, a damp cloth in hand. He drops one knee on the bed and leans in toward her. "May I?"
"You truly are the perfect gentleman, aren't you?" Knock Out asks as she parts her thighs to give him room to wipe her clean.
She's sensitive still, and she shivers as he gently applies the warm cloth, feeling intensely spoiled.
"I have my moments." Bumblebee tosses the washcloth in the general direction of her laundry bin and slides onto the bed beside her. "I think we missed part of the movie."
Distantly, the title screen plays on repeat.
"I think we missed the ending," Knock Out corrects, and rests her head on his shoulder. She flattens her palm on his abdomen, her hand rising and falling with every breath he takes.
His arm curls beneath her shoulders, and he starts to trail his fingers through her hair in a way that makes her want to purr. "Not the one that counts."
Knock Out lightly drags her fingernails over his belly, the softness threatening to gather at his mid-section. Someone’s been indulging in a bit too much pizza. "You are every bit the charmer your father is."
"I'll take that compliment, thank you." Bumblebee presses a kiss to her hair. "Did you know that pancakes are my speciality?"
Knock Out blinks. "I didn't," she says, unable to hide the confusion in her voice.
Bumblebee tilts his foot against hers playfully. "How about I make you some for breakfast?"
Oh.
Knock Out rises up on her elbow to look at him, a smile curving her lips. "I'd like that."
She leans in to kiss him, and he cups her face, holding her there for a soft and sweet kiss. Her pulse flutters, and warmth pools in her belly. Bumblebee might have voiced how lucky he felt, but Knock Out finds those same emotions echoing in her now.
Her life has been a series of desperate struggles as long as she can remember. She's done what she's needed to survive, some of it she regrets, some of it she doesn't. She'd lost herself at one point, before finding herself again long enough to defect for her own survival.
There's a lot Knock Out has done to make it to this point.
Bumblebee makes her feel like it was worth it.
"If you want pancakes, we have to sleep first," Bumblebee says as she settles back into the planes of his body. He's not so much curves, but Knock Out finds they fit together well enough all the same.
"Or nap at the very least," Knock Out suggests and lightly drags her finger over his nipple. "Long enough to recharge for another round?"
Bumblebee visibly shivers and captures her wrist, pulling her hand to his mouth to press a kiss to her fingertips. "I have my hands full with you, don't I?"
"I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow," she points out.
"Neither do I." He keeps her hand, folding his fingers through hers and resting them both on his chest. "Nap it is, then."
"But beneath the blankets," Knock Out says as a bit of a chill starts to creep in, despite the warmth of Bumblebee's body. "And after we turn off the movie." Which, by the way, is still merrily chiming away on the ever-repeating title screen.
Bumblebee laughs. "I'm on it."
He extricates himself from the bed, heading out for the living room but not before scooping his boxers from the floor. He looks at them, wrinkles his nose, and tosses them back down, walking bare-assed out the bedroom door.
It's such a cute ass.
Knock Out grins and slides beneath the covers, waiting for his return. A quick nap, perhaps a shared shower, another round or two, and then breakfast in the morning.
This night could not have gone more perfectly.
