#waspinator x reader

• Clinging when you reach up to try to pull him loose, he whines loudly. Doesn’t want to be small. Already gets hurt when he’s big. Knows he’s annoying you, but you’re warm and safe. Whining louder when you try to pull him loose, his wings buzz frantically. What if everyone goes back to normal, but not him? What if he’s stuck small and helpless? Anxious now, he crawls down your neck.

• Shuddering at the feel of those scratchy, awful bug feet on your skin, you suck in a breath when he squirms under your coverall collar. Inside your clothes with you. “Waspinator,” you groan. And he’s crawling around in there before his little wasp head sticks back out of your collar, antenna tickling your chin as another caretaker snorts, turning away and shaking with badly hidden laughter. ‘Waspinator safe. Warm,’ he growls, wings brushing your skin. At least his claws are clinging to your coveralls now instead of you. ‘Hidden.’

• No one sees him here. Too well hidden. Pleased with himself, he hears you sigh and make a noise when he brushes an antenna against your lips. “When you’re back to normal, we’re having a discussion about personal space,” you mutter. Claws digging into the material of your soft coverings, he rumbles as you reach up to pat him on the head and he leans into the gentle touch.

• Is he purring? You’re pretty sure he is, rumbling rhythmically against you as his antenna keep brushing your mouth so you’re constantly having to lift your chin as you try to talk to the other caretakers or you get one in your mouth. And everyone is snickering at you as you tiredly close your eyes. At least he’s not leaving little scratches all over you anymore. Apparently content hidden down the front of your shirt.

• Wings flicking restlessly as you smooth soft hands over him, his head lowers. Mandibles brushing over you as he scoots further down your body. Scenting as he vents against you, wanting the smell of your need on him. Wanting his scent on you. Spike pulsing behind his plating, he whines as his mouth slides against your belly. And you’re hooking your thumbs in the waist of your lower covering to pull it down. Letting him touch. Inviting him to explore. Keeps expecting you to change your mind. To yell at him. He’s trembling as he brushes his face down your body, aching for more and unsure how much he’s allowed when he wants everything. Those soft hands touch his antenna, his wings and he’s making noises. Shameful sounds. But those hands are so gentle. Do you have any idea how much he craves this? Your touch. Your kindness. You feel like home. Like acceptance.

• Inhaling as his mandibles brush your underwear, he’s nuzzling against you, forcing you to spread your thighs wider to accommodate his shoulders. Have the thought to wonder if whatever aphrodisiac is in his saliva can affect you in other areas right before you hear material rip and he huffs out an oops against you, warm air from his vents fanning you to make your breath catch. Then his glossa slides against you, presses inside you. And you have your answer as heart suffuses you in a needy ache. Thighs trembling as he presses his face more firmly against you, his glossa strokes deep and your head falls back, fingers fisting in the sheets as you go molten with need. Aching and moving restlessly against his mouth. Begging.

• Rumbling as you get noisier, squirming under him, when you gasp his name, his spike releases to pressurize. Wanting inside you. To claim you, but reluctant to move just yet when your taste is almost drugging. Your field washing into him to feed him your pleasure. But it’s the fact that you want him. Need him that obsesses him. No one’s ever needed him, but you do. You’re clinging to him as you tremble and moan. Shattering against his glossa. Wings flicking out, he crawls up your body. Snared by how you look lost in passion. The knowledge that he did that. Did something right.

• Aching and flushed, there’s definitely something in his saliva. Something addictive. You feel almost boneless from your release even as you want more. And he’s settling between your thighs, his spike slippery with the slick beading at the head as he stretches you. Those optics more focused, more serious, than you’ve ever seen them as he moves against you. Making you wonder again what happened to him. Who broke him. What he was like before. Maybe he’s always been like this, but you don’t think so. His clawed servos pin your hands, servos interlacing with your fingers as his hips pump and you can’t look away from his stare as you wind up again.

Previous

He’ll explain that bots can’t really get these sorts of things, and any damage can simply be repaired so scaring is seldom seen in their people. He honestly thinks it’s one of the things that makes humans most beautiful, the stories their body can tell through infinitesimal details. 

Birth marks aren’t a thing for them, freckles too, beauty marks can be easily added to metal plating but he still finds yours are so unique and adorable. Please break him out of his trance by placing a chaste kiss to his helm or faceplate, he promises he’s listening to what you have to say<3 

Jazz - Form

Curvy, thin, tall, short, he just loves your silhouette. Loves any curves or dips on your body. Jazz truly doesn’t have a type physically, and if you ask he’ll just say you. He’s not saying it for brownie points, he’s being genuine. He just adores your form, the way his servos can glide across your arms, thighs, back, stomach, chest. Name it, he loves it. 

You don’t have the typical look of a Cybertronian, boxy and metallic, and that’s something he likes about you. How unique you look and he really can’t keep his hands off, lol. If you ever express concerns or insecurities regarding your body shape he’s quick to comfort you about them, never wanting you to think for even a klik that he doesn’t think you’re beautiful. 

Likes to grab and hold, maybe lightly squeeze any part of you you’re okay with, will probably poke your sides to tickle you. Jazz is big on kissing every inch of you he can reach, so be forewarned if you ever give him permission in private. It’s gonna be a while..

Honorable mention: body hair. This mech does NOT mind body hair. Likes it actually. Thinks it’s so soft and doesn’t have any of those silly human opinions against it because he’s from Cybertron and no one there has any. Nothing on Cybertron is that soft so he’s all servos on deck when you let him touch you. He won’t mind if you prefer to shave, he’ll even offer to help, but he will never mind you keeping it. 

Optimus Prime - Face

At first uncannily Cybertronian to him, but now his favorite feature of humans. He loves all humans in a caretaker sort of way, you just happen to be he’s adorable little human partner. 

When your eyes meet his optics in the morning, sleep still fogging your brain but yet still happy to see him, has his spark thrumming 10x what it’s supposed to. Loves the soft plumpness of your lips, kissing you slowly to savor the feeling. Will nuzzle your cheek with his faceplate and vent against you, enjoying the intimacy. 

Helm holding is a sign of immense love on Cybertron, so allowing him to press your forehead to his helm and look at your lovely face, it makes a bot weak. 

Likes the way your eyebrows move when expressing different emotions, when you bite your lip in concentration, licking your lips after eating food you particularly enjoy- he just loves it all. 

Prime sees it as a gift to be able to cradle your face so gently within his servos, they’ve been through so much and now they get the privilege of holding you. He looks straight at you when talking, bending or kneeling down, or even picking you up, just to be closer to your face. Your face is a portrait only fit for a museum in his processor. The curve of your cheeks and the way the change color so appealing to him, the freckles on your skin he gets to count. 

Please send him selfies, this old bot needs to see his beloved in the midst of his busy day to stay sane<3 

Knockout - Hands and Nails 

The only things Knockout finds prettier than his finish are your hands. They’re so elegant to him, even if you disagree. He loves the softness and texture, even callused hard working hands are soft compared to his metal and he can certainly appreciate someone who works hard, but that’s besides the point. 

They’re warm in his own servos, nimble and able to trail between his seams and over his mesh in a way he’s never felt before. He adores the feeling of your nails across his helm or back struts, lovingly banishing his worries from the day away. 

Knockout loves to paint your nails, if you let him. Likes the delicate feeling of your palm completely relaxed in his, and loves it even more when you let him choose the color. Of course, he wants you to match. 

He’s a medic, so his own hands are quite sensitive. Will repay any massage you give him back tenfold and can’t get enough of the tender kisses you leave on his servos. He fiddles with your fingers absentmindedly, toying with your digits and finding comfort in every dip and ridge your body has to offer. Will hold your hand any chance he gets and kisses your knuckles like a gentlemech to greet you. 

First Aid - Your Humanity 

The CMO, Ratchets very own successor, medic Protectobot and part of Earth’s Defensor: he loves all organics, even caring about the “pain” inorganic things feel, but his love of all other organics pales compared to you. 

The way his optics are so gentle when he looks at you. What makes you human, different from his own kind, that’s what he loves so much. Aid loves to trail his servos along your skin, committing every single curve, freckle and mark to memory. He plants chaste kisses to your cheeks and forehead, adoring the way you heat up when he presses against you. Your stomach and thighs are often points of impact for his kisses and gentle touches, liking how soft they are, regardless of weight. Stretch marks, scars, that birthmark where no one else can see, all little treasures for him to find and they make him love you even more. 

The fact that you are so so different yet similar to Cybertronians fascinates him. Your structure and biology are so similar, even predictably, but yet so far from anything native to his motherland. 

He likes the way you move your hands when you speak, the way you snore softly sprawled out on his chassis, even the way your eyes gloss over when you see something emotional. He’ll be quick to wipe your tears and comfort you, though! The things that make you human are his favorites, and he’s more than happy to show you<3 

Vortex - Softness/Squish

Vortex loves how squishy you are compared to him. Metal plating has little give but your body is so forgiving, he can squeeze and pinch and bite to his sparks content, with your permission of course. Maybe he should feel a little bad for using you like a stress ball, but he just adores the feeling of your flesh between his servos. It sinks into the gaps of his joints and feeling it against his mesh makes him adore you even more. The soft, supple feeling along with the dips and curves of your body just make him wanna press you against him forever. 

He can feel his processor get foggy when you give him the okay to use more pressure, touches getting rougher and bold. Likes to see you squirm, to be honest. Will leave marks if you let him. 

When he’s busy working or handling datapads, he enjoys having you nearby so he can have an arm around you, mindlessly poking your sides or squeezing your thighs while you two focus on your tasks. 

He bites, usually just for fun. Likes the indents he can leave behind with his derma. Likes to feel the squish of your body against his frame, engine purring with mischief when you relax against him. Don’t be surprised when his servos greedily roam your form just to feel how soft you are.  

Honorable mention: your veins. While bots might have energon lines, they aren’t visible under their metal, and your veins oddly remind him of his own biolights. Likes to count them and kiss maybe bite the spots where they’re visible. Traces them with a tantalizingly slow servo. He’s just kind of a tease, really. Call him a jerk and that mischievous smirk won’t be leaving his face anytime soon. 

Hound - Eyes

Truly no sight more beautiful to him than your eyes. The way they are windows into your thoughts and emotions, the way they widen when you’re excited and droop when you’re sleepy- how can someone even be so cute? 

Hound loves to tilt your head up towards his when you’re talking, wanting to look into your eyes with his own optics, mesmerized by their details. Splotches and dashes of color, glassy shine, little flecks of eyelashes around them. It’s nothing like any Cybertronian optic he’s ever seen, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t tug at his spark every time you looked at him with admiration or affection. 

Look at him with desire and he’s warming on the spot, engine purring at the attention, absolutely addicting when you look straight into his optics during your private time. 

You tell him about humans pupils dilating when the see something they love and he can’t help but notice it every time now. Not just looking at him, but your favorite food, your family, your best friend, your favorite media, your beloved pet or companion. He’s in love and will be until his spark turns to dust. Please look him in the eyes when you confess to him, he’s putting considerable effort into keeping his knees from buckling.

Waspinator - Scent 

Waspinator doesn’t really understand why humans use so many scented products, especially you. You smell so lovely to him naturally, he would shove and nuzzle his faceplate into your hair or neck forever if you’d let him. Venting deeply and filling his processor with nothing but you. 

He loves that your scent lingers on his metal plating so everyone around him knows he’s yours. He equally loves when his scent sticks to your skin, clothes or hair, he might be just a teensy bit possessive, oops! 

Waspinator will happily steal  politely take from you any clothes you’ll let him and recharge with them, leaving his scent behind for you to wear tomorrow. Don’t worry, he doesn’t produce a scent that humans can detect, at least not any more than a human really. Maybe a tinge of metallic in there too. But to him??? Oh boy can he tell. Greedily hugging you to his chassis and smiling so wide his mandibles spread when he can smell the combination of the two of you together. 

Tarantulas (ES) - Can’t decide! 

As a techno-organic himself, he can appreciate the little differences between your bodies with much more understanding than most of the other bots. He loves the softness of your hair and skin, the planes, dips, and curves of your body, the way you move so differently from how he moves. He just adores you. All of you! 

He’s a romantic, he can never get enough of observing you and the way you behave when you’re comfortable and happy. He’ll make sure to ask if you’re okay with it first, but would absolutely adore it if you’d let him take some candid photos of you to keep stored in his memory banks permanently. Might look through them in private if you’re not around. 

Loves the way you feel pressed against his chassis or holding onto his arm, so squishy, warm and soft. He’s never felt such softness, physically or emotionally before meeting you. Loves how your eyes gleam when you see him after a long day. Holds your little hands so gently in his own large servos and cups your cheeks so you look him in the optics. 

Likes to brush his mandibles along your skin, anywhere and everywhere. He’s so gentle and meticulous, but he might tickle you a little just to hear your laugh. He likes to feel and hear your heart beating when he lays on your chest. Oh, and he absolutely adores feeling your body heat up against his, and he might tease you just a little for it too. 

His own insecurities about his body melt away when you hug him, and if you speak any ill towards yourself he’s immediately there to comfort you. Tarantulas can’t decide if he has a favorite or not. He’s not trying to give a cop out answer, he’s just so in love with all of you! 

Nautica - Movement 

Vast, otherworldly, intelligence in the alien/organic department still doesn’t prepare Nautica for how beautiful you look when you move. She is a bit awkward when explaining it to you, at least at first, but the way you move is nothing short of mesmerizing to her. 

She loves to dance, swaying to the rhythm and enjoying the beat, so she can appreciate someone who moves their body in such a charismatic way. Whether fluid or clumsy she just finds it so endearing, you’re able to move in way Cybertronians could never. Your own frame so much smoother than theirs. Even studying and visiting planets all across the galaxy, observing the motions of life forms for millennia now, and they don’t ever compare to you. 

If you are dancing together, and she’s happy to guide or hold you, she can’t stop herself from staring. Even the sights of the bottom of the ocean, every creature she’s seen that have yet to graze the eyes or optics of any other than her, none as unique to her as you. 

Your gait, the way you sit when you feel most comfortable, the way you lay next to her, she wishes her optics could keep these images stored permanently in her processor. Would you let her?

Have a mobility aid? That doesn’t change her opinion at all, but knows it’s rare in Cybertronians, so she will ask you privately if you’d like her to ensure no bot asks you ignorant questions. Socially awkward as she may be, she is still an extrovert and doesn’t mind talking to people. Especially if it ensures your comfort now and in the future. 

The way your body moves against hers in your private time is enough to have her wanting to bond with you then and there, even if you already have. Her spark is begging her to, so please don’t tease her too much for it<3 

——————————————————————————————————————

Note: Wanted to be inclusive in Nauticas so I didn’t write it with an able bodied reader always in mind. Hopefully I managed, but absolutely let me know if I didn’t! 

Optimus pinched at his olfactory ridge, a deep sigh rattling his chest armor. “Rhinox?” The leader prodded softly, curious what his engineer had to say on this interesting development. The rhino hummed, his brow ridge crinkling in thought as he drummed his digits against the console.

“Well I think we should first inform the on–””NO!” Cheetor interrupted Rhinox, his voice shrill. 

“No?” Several optics turned to look at the cheetah, some curious, some knowing. Cheetor felt his face plate flush with energon, turning it a deep shade of blue. His optics flare in embarrassment as he resists the urge to shrink in on himself.

“Y-YEah,” He squeaks out, “They shouldn’t be bothered about this! It’s weird! I wouldn’t want to know about some dumb Pred lurking outside asking about me!”

“What’s asking about me?” Cheetor jumped, plating puffing out as he whirls around. His spark spins rapidly in his chest, it makes the energon in his lines pump faster as he looks at the latest edition to the Maximals. You blink in confusion as five sets of optics stare at you, the command going uncomfortably quiet. Cheetor looks at you, mouth agape and engine stalling as he tries to think of any reason for you to not be here right now.

“Flesssh-bot!” Helms snap awkwardly towards the console, the sound of Waspinator not breaking the tension but deepening it. 

“Huh?” Your brows furrow.

“It’s nothing!” Cheetor declares, pushing on Rattrap’s face before the smaller Maximal could say something that would have you believing this was in fact something. 

“I would not say this is nothing.” Dinobot grumbles, his optics turning to slits. “It appears the enemy desires to speak with you.” 

“I would say he wants to do more than speak with da fleshy!” Rattrap says through the sevro pushing into his intake. A red hue creeps up your neck and Cheetor would think it would be very pretty if the reason was literally anything but Rattrap making ill concealed innuendos. 

“Flesssh-bot!” Waspinator calls out again, his scratchy voice a pitiful plea for attention that Cheetor hopes you will ignore but to his horror you approach the console with a tentative look towards Boss-bot.

“It’s your choice.” Optimus is giving you permission and this is terrible because you are actually answering him. Cheetor watches in slow motion as you flick the switch, the sound system coming to life as you speak gently to the wailing Pred outside.

“Hello Waspinator, is everything alright? Why are you here?” You ask, sounding concerned.

“Evvverything isss alright now! Wasssspinator isss here for you!” The Pred swooned.

“For me?” Was that a look of endearment Cheetor was seeing? Was it?!

“Yesss, Wassspinator comess bearing a gift for Flesssh-bot.” Oh dear Primus, a gift? He comes bearing a gift? Why?!

“Oh?” You glance around command, that blush deepens and Cheetor is scratching at the proverbial walls.

“Hmh, could you come out? Wassspinator wanted to sssee Flesssh-bot when Flesss-bot is given gift.” Waspinator pauses, “Pleassse?” That was a low blow, the insect was clearly taking advantage of your kinder nature!

You look to Optimus, shifting almost bashfully. Were you considering this? “He said please.” You were!

“Oh sure, hear dat Boss Monkey. He said please, might as well invite him in for hot energon and oil cakes while we’re at it.” Rattrap snips and it makes you shrink and Optimus casts a scathing look towards the rat before turning back to you.

“Despite the way he said it, I am inclined to agree with Rattrap. I fear you going out there might be unwise.” You give a mumbled agreement and Cheetor feels his spark lightening until Rhinox steps forward.

“I could go with them.” Rhinox speaks up, placing a servo on your shoulder. Cheetor splutters and makes vague gestures of disagreement.

“This could be a trap.” Dinobot supplies, eyeing you with a hard stare of disapproval.

“And if it is, I will be there with them. But if it isn’t we might be able to get something out of Waspinator.” Rhinox rolled his optics down towards you, “And well he did say please.” 

The whimper that passed Cheetor’s lip plates was small and utterly depressing in nature. Slumping into a chair he rested his chin heavily against the cool metal, his optics watching your back in forlorn silence as you went to meet the stinkin Pred with that still pretty red hue dusting your cheeks. A part of him, a part he didn’t really like that much, hoped just the smallest bit that this was some dumb trick. He really didn’t want it to be a trap but if it was, well then that would be… not good but he could help you through it!

“Oh lighten up pussycat. It ain’t the end of the world. It’s probably just some dumb plan ol’ lizard brain hatched up. Nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.” Rattrap was hardly what Cheetor would call reassuring but it was nice to have his fears dissuaded by someone other than himself.

The lift creaked and it made Cheetor perk up. “You will need to let me run a full diagnostics on them.” The sound of Rhinox made him immediately perk down, that didn’t sound like someone who just dealt with an ill-conceived attempt at an attack. As you came into view, a bundle of colorful organic material clutched in your hands Cheetor felt like disappearing into the floor.

“Oh.” Rattrap whistled, “Oh maybe ya do have something to worry about.”

Cheetor didn’t believe Rattrap at first, brushing it off that this was a one time thing. Waspinator wouldn’t come back, Optimus wouldn’t allow it, and you most certainly wouldn’t be swayed by a half-afted attempt at some ploy of the preds to win the beast wars. And yet, for reasons that were beyond his comprehension, he feels even Primus wouldn’t understand, Waspinator did come back. Optimus did allow it and you were being swayed by this weird display of what Cheetor was still convinced was false affections.

“This has to be a trick, really it has to be. There is no way that this could be literally anything else.” Cheetor trailed after you as you added yet another bundle of flowers to your ever growing collection. The room you shared with Optimus started to look more like a garden than a room, the fragrance of the flowers clung heavily to you and it was actually really nice but it was tainted by who kept giving them to you.

“Is it really that unbelievable that Waspinator just wants to give me flowers?” You asked, shoulders hunching up in defense.

“I mean yeah? He’s a Pred! What reason does he have to be giving you flowers if not to try and trick you?” A frown pulled at your lips, your back to Cheetor as you arranged and rearranged all of your “gifts.”

“I see.” That frown turned not upside down but into a purse and now Cheetor was confused.

“What?” He asked, not understanding the sudden mood shift or why you weren’t looking at him.

You sighed, turning on him with a hand on your hip and rubbing at your temple, “Cheetor I think you should go.” He spluttered, derma flapping like that fish he saw out of the water.

“Wait, hold on!” He pleaded, “What did I say?” You shook your head as you ushered him out. “No, please come on. What did I say?” It came out whiny, his optics wide and pleading as you shut the door on him.

“But what did I say?” He whispered, utterly dejected.

Dragging his pedes across the floor he didn’t take much care in not running into everything and anything. Maybe if he bumped into another wall it would bring him clarity for whatever just happened? 

“Hey watch where ya goin blondie!” Rattrap squeaked as Cheetor almost bowled him over. Cheetor let out a mumbled apology, shoulders slumping further and helm practically touching the floor. “Oh boy, what is this?” the rat gestured at him.

“It’s nothing.” 

“I would not call this nothin’. What’s eatin’ at your wires, huh?”

“Nothingggg.”

“Really? Nothin’? Cause it looks to me,” Rattrap picked something off of Cheetor’s arm and flicked it to the ground. It was a flower petal, soft and pink, just like your face when you received them this morning, “like you are lettin’ some stickin’ Pred move in on your dame.” 

Cheetor’s plating puffed up as he straightened, “I’m not letting–” He stopped immediately, shrinking. “You’re right…”

“I know.” It was said extremely smugly but Cheetor wasn’t paying attention, now suddenly feeling the need to pace.

“But what am I supposed to do!” He grabbed at the faux auditor receptors on his helm, “They’re so… so.. smitten with Waspinator and his flowers and his flessssh-bot.” He dragged out the s, mocking the bug’s speech. “And I can’t understand why? It’s Waspinator! No one likes him!”

“Alright, alright enough of that.” A servo was snagging his elbow and his faceplate was dragged down to Rattrap’s level. “Listen here Whiskers, ya listening? I’m going to share some very important advice with ya.” Cheetor’s optics shuttered, helm tilting to the side as he was in fact listening, maybe a bit too intently. “Okay good, now I've been aroun’ the block, seen plenty of mechs and femmes just like yours.” He hushed Cheetor with a digit to his derma, “I know, I know they’re unique and special, blah blah blah, I get it but what I mean is they’re the romantic type. They want to be wooed and currently the one doin’ the wooing ain’t you.”

“Are you trying to help me or making me feel worse?” 

“Hush, I’m gettin’ there.” Rattrap snapped, “Now you can’t do the flowers, you’ll just look like a copycat so you need to do somethin’ else. Somethin’ like showin’ your dame how tough yous are.”

“What are you trying to say?” 

Rattrap sighed and thunked his servos against the top Cheetor’s helm, “You’re impossible kid, but what I am tryin’ to say is beat up the Wasp.”

“What? But.. but wouldn’t that make them not happy with me?”

The other maximal waved his servo around like what Cheetor just said was absolutely ridiculous. “What? No, course not. It’s the law of the wild, show them you’re the superior mate and all that.”

“I don’t know about this…”

“Oh come on pussycat, I thought you wanted to win the… the.. What’s that thing the human has?” Rattrap snapped his digits together.

“Their heart?”

“Yeah that, I thought you wanted to win your fleshy’s heart. Cause you ain’t gonna do that pussy footin’ around.” Cheetor huffed, feeling himself starting to pout but Rattrap had a point. 

“Okay.” He nodded, “Okay, yeah, yeah! I’ll show them that I’m way better than that pred!” Bouncing in place he felt electricity flaring to life and running through his lines, it heated his energon and he grinned down at his friend, “Thanks Rattrap!” bounding away Cheetor felt the need to go on a run, his processor racing with ideas on how he would initiate and beat Waspinator. He pictured how you would swoon over his battle prowess and how you would toss out all those flowers. Would you blush all sweet and pretty like you do with Waspinator? He thinks it would be even prettier and sweeter because he was the one that caused it.

Cheetor wonders how long he will have to wait to prove himself. It wouldn’t matter if it was on the battlefield, you didn’t leave base much so you wouldn’t get to see him in action. Racing through the jungle he decided that he would have to act when Waspinator inevitably showed up again. Whenever that would be. 

Tomorrow, it would be tomorrow.

“Flesssh-bot, your Wassspinator hasss arrived!” 

Perfect! Cheetor was even on monitor duty! Zipping to the lift, he poked his head into the hallway; spotting Dinobot he waved his servo and the raptor. “Dinobot! Dinobot! Could you go get–””I am already going to collect the human to deal with this pest.” Dinobot snarled.

Perfect!

Barling down the lift Cheetor didn’t wait for it to touchdown before jumping off, transforming, and then running full tilt at the predacon.

“Oh? Cat-bot? Where isss Fless–” Cheetor cut Waspintor off as he rammed into the insect. The pred screeched, an explosion of petals and stems raining down upon them as the flowers he had been holding were obliterated by the impact. Sinking his teeth into the metal of Waspinator’s shoulder armor he shook his jaw about, not fully tearing but enough to loosen the armor and make the bug feel it. 

Was it a bit vindictive? Probably. But if he was going to show that he was the better option he had to take every opportunity. 

“Ssstop it! Let go!” Waspinator wriggled and squirmed, servos forming fists before releasing and just pushing at Cheetor. “What did Wassspinator do?! Isss Flesssh-bot angry at Wassspinator?!” The pred’s vocalizer hiccupped and it made Cheetor pause but Rattrap’s advice rang loudly in his processor and he doubled down. Whipping his helm he sent Waspinator skittering along the ground before pouncing again. His landing was graceful if heavy and he could feel the plating on his prey’s chest caving inwards. It was strange that Waspinator wasn’t fighting back, mostly just whining and scrabbling at the earth to get away from him and crying about his ‘Flesssh-bot’ being mad at him.

It was frustrating and Cheetor snarled, gnashing his teeth in Waspinator’s face he grazed the canines across the antenna, threatening to tear.

“Cheetor, what are you doing!” Optimus bellowed behind him, the scruff of his neck was suddenly and aggressively grabbed as he was torn off the predacon. He hissed, wriggling in the gorilla’s hold. 

“What were you thinking!?” Optimus got in his face, derma set in a harsh snarl. Cheetor didn’t respond, his glossa twisting into a knot along with his spark as you sprinted past, your face set in a state of panic. He reset his optics, once, twice, three times just to make sure he wasn’t going crazy at the sight of you cooing over Waspinator. Your small, soft organic hands gently brushing over the surface wounds he had inflicted upon Waspinator.

“Optimus,” You speak up, pointedly not looking at Cheetor, “We need to help him.”

Optimus paused in his fuming, optics flaring as he looked between you, Cheetor, and the bug. “I…I don’t–”“Please? He promised not to do anything when he comes here, we can’t just let him fly back to the Darksyde like this.” You're still petting along his plating, his buggy face nuzzling into your touch and Cheetor doesn’t know which feeling is bigger, devastation or fury. 

A groan of frustration escaped past the boss-bots clenched denta, “Okay.” He nodded, activating his comm he asked Rhinox to prep the CR Chamber. Cheetor snarled in distaste and was met with a harsh glare from Primal.