Street Racer Darling |:| Knockout X reader

Shut Down and Burnt Out

~Tyson's POV~

         "Did you yank the Boyfriend?" I asked Lucky once I was back, deciding to let my crew deal with the silly team of four, they all had good cars, stolen, but good.

         "More like he yanked me, right off his car too. Didn't even get a name out of him." She whined, her usual pout on that pixie like face of hers. While she was no Barbra Strisan, she was cute, and clung on to me as if I were a God. Helps I told her I knew (Y/N)'s weaknesses, of course, I don't, but I'm willing to find out.

         "Apparently Mister Tall-Red-and Loyal finds decency a top priority, same with his Viper."

         "Well, that's somewhere, ain't it?"

I watched as this supposed boyfriend of (Y/N)'s did a 180 coming back, just ahead of one of my tools. It's been over three hours, and still no one has even shown signs of smoke.

         "(Y/N) was right in front him..." I thought for a moment, "Perhaps he was only playing loyal... Get him this time, his window's down."

Lucky winked, and I smiled back, though it quickly disappeared when she was no longer paying attention to me. As soon as "Knockout's" reputation is ruined, I'm ditching the dame. A nurse can be fired, and replaced just as quickly.

~Knockout's POV~

     These guys are relentless, and overly lazy. I just saw a pair playing cards as they waited their next turn. I'm starting to think (Y/N) was wrong. Perhaps this is one of those circumstances where her foresight fails her. We've been ahead of them since the beginning, but it's hindering us as we go faster, trying to keep that lead, and (Y/N)'s already said that we needed this lead. I'm tiring, she's run my form raggid, and I know for a fact she's the same way, and it's starting to have an effect on her new holoform, it's glitched more than once already.

         "Heya speed demon."

Great.

         "I do remember giving you my answer earlier." I sighed, looking up through the window I would now keep shut during my time on this particular side.

         "Oh I know, but it doesn't hurt to try again."

She smiled, and all I could do was look away, my mind racing with ideas of how to get rid of her. I could stab her, I brought a pairing knife. Insult her? No, knowing her kind she'll take it as flirting. Stabbing her is honestly the most appealing at this moment.

         "Is that your natural eye color?" She asked, and I looked back to her.

         "Why does it matter to you?"

         "Well," She leaned on Wildstryke's door, and I was glad it wasn't her coming back, "If they are, then my they are simply 'gore-jous'," Did she just make a horror pun? "If they aren't, you think you could show me where to find contacts like that? Then we'd both look like Vampires, beautiful creatures of the night."

How in Cybertron is this woman even alive right now? Actually the better question is why haven't I stabbed her yet?

          "You'll be pleased to know that they're natural," I smirked, "And that the only way they'll take in your form, is over a million miles away."

I sped off just as Scythe swerved to miss Lucky, and I was slightly disappointed he missed.

~(Y/N)'s POV~

     I'm about to rip that Hooker from naval to nose. That's the second time she's tried to steal Knockout away, and the only thing that's stopping me from running her over is how insulted she looks thanks to knockout's best selling come backs! That didn't stop me from splashing a bottle of coolant on her precious low-cut shirt, the bright pink bra now revealed as she ran to her car to change.

The others are getting worried, and I'm wareing down, so is Knockout. Dad's truck is needing fuel and Roman's Impala is starting to rattle. Guess something wasn't fixed right. We need this lead though, the sun is going to set soon, and Tyson will want to get to the race being held tonight. We just need to hold out for a little longer...

     Knockout's alt swerved as I lost my grip on his steering wheel, my hand phasing through it completely.

         "SCRAP!"

Fixing the problem, I held my lead, and passed Roman, who would now go and pass Knockout. Someone has got to give, someone reckless enough to try and beat they're car's natural stamina, but the only one I KNEW would be that dumb, is sitting on the sidelines eating a fragging doughnut.

Knockout passed me, and I started my way, being met, side by side, with the Aston Martin from when I first met Lucky. Perhaps I just found their weak link.

     I challenged the racer beside me, getting ahead of him ever so slightly with each passing moment, and they followed suit until I knew both our vehicles were hitting their maximum, but mine's not a normal vehicle. Slamming down on the accelerator I shot in front of my opponent, leaving them in the dust. I only looked back when I had turned in order to be ready for my next go, and found a trail of smoke. Not mine, of course, but the dopple ganger. A plume of grey smoke was being funneled out of the car doors and hood, the driver a crumpled mess as he tried to put out a fire on his sleeve. We won.

     The whole of my crew came slowly back, Dad getting out of his truck and giving me a big bear hug, only to put me down so Knockout could do the same. Roman gave me a thumbs up from his tinted car window, the programmed skin having expired a long time ago. We all looked over to see Tyson throwing a fit while Lucky tried to calm him down. I knew the driver would be getting a beating afterward, but frankly, if he decided to team up with Lucky and Tyson, he had it coming.

         "How about we go show off our victory at the race tonight?" I asked, "No events, just showing off, I'm out of energy."

         "A little R'n'R? Sounds good to me." Knockout hugged me to his side.

         "Sure, I could use a break," Dad stated.

         "Oh yeah! I want to show off this sleek beauty!" Roman hollered, and we all laughed, leaving the team of twelve behind.

We came to the spot, finding that our story was already told... and shown.

         "How did you guys hold out so long?"

         "Where's the driver of the Impala?"

         "You three are related?"

         "Can I have an autograph?"

         "What's your boyfriend's name?"

All sorts of question's were asked, but only a fraction were answered, one of our own being answered as our race was set up on a building wall, the entire thing having been recorded and live streamed on YouTube. Tyson was just that confident about it all.

         "What are you calling your team, Knockout?"

Was another question, and to this I said:

         "I don't know, let's have the crowd decide!"

Standing in front of our respective cars, except for Roman, I stood a top Knockout's hood.

         "TELL ME STREET RACERS! WHO ARE WE?!"

Thus, "The Four Horsemen" became the bane of every crew's existance. 

(Cause what's more bad-aft then being named after the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse?! My goodness I love writing this story! Thanks for reading! Hope you all like it!)