The booming rumble of mechanical footsteps echoed throughout the base, and all the other Autobots involuntarily turned around. Optimus was entering the hangar, and the way he moved made it clear: he was angry. But not like in battle - no. This was a different, dull, suffocating rage. His gait was too precise, too restrained, as if he was holding every movement in check so as not to break loose right here and now.

You were standing a little to the side, talking to Bumblebee. His light, playful movements, carefree gestures, the way he sometimes allowed himself to touch your shoulder or hold your gaze longer than usual - all this had long been cutting Optimus's optics. And now, when he saw how you quietly laughed at Bumblebee's words, his body seemed to shrink from the inside.

He stopped a few meters away, but the atmosphere instantly changed. The space became denser, heavier. Even Bumblebee sensed it and fell silent awkwardly, his “melodic” voice fading as if he realized he had crossed an invisible boundary.

Optimus took another step. His shadow covered you both. His eyes, two bright blue torches, stared straight at you. Not at Bumblebee. Just at you.

“Do you find.. this funny?” — His voice was low, but there was steel in it, barely contained.

Your spark began to beat faster. You could feel that the phrase was not a question, but a warning.

He lowered his head a little lower, coming closer than he usually allowed himself even in privacy. His massive body loomed over you, radiating warmth and strength, and his voice became quieter, but more dangerous.

“I saw the way he looked at you. I saw the way you smiled back.”

His hand rose, but not to Bumblebee, but to you. His thick, cold fingers touched your cheek, gently, but with such force that you felt he was holding you, not letting go. His thumb slid along the line of your jaw, lingering at your lips.

“But you belong to me.”

He said the words as if they were not a promise, but a law. His voice trembled, but not from weakness, but from a suppressed heat that threatened to burst out.

Bumblebee took an awkward step back, his antennae twitching as he backed away almost silently. He knew this was a moment he shouldn't interfere with.

Optimus followed him with his eyes until he disappeared around the corner, and only then did he focus on you again. His hand moved, fingers wrapping around your throat, not squeezing, but showing that he could. His body leaned closer, optics ablaze.

“Even the thought of someone daring to lay claim to you… tears me apart.” — His voice was almost a whisper, low and vibrating.

“I will not tolerate this. Never.”

He lowered his head, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath, hot and heavy, made its way through the vents, and you felt it all over your body.

“You are mine. And if anyone dares to forget that…” — His fingers squeezed your throat lightly, just enough to send a chill down your spine.

“I’ll remind you.”