#transformers streetwise

[dommiso]

Accidental Bonding!: Chapter One: Workplace Incident

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Synopsis: Mini series about reader and Defensor/Protectobots becoming sparkbonded accidentally!

CW/TW: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THIS SERIES WILL HAVE NSFW LATER. Gender neutral human reader, suitable for afab and amab readers! Polyamorous relationship to be established! Fighting/pain for bots and reader. No gore though! Mentions/use of the words death and afterlife. No character or any other death! But reader gets in some sticky situations, lol. Use your suspension of disbelief y’all;) SOMEWHAT ANGST WARNING

Characters: Defensor and the Protectobots! Hot Spot, Streetwise, First Aid, Blades, Groove and Rook

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Your back slams into the metal wall as the Decepticon releases you, forcing the air out of your lungs. Hitting hard enough to blur your vision, you inhale a sharp breath-

This was supposed to be a simple mission. In and out like you guys were never there. The bots would guard you while you snuck in to turn off a machine Megatron was having built that could nuke a bots spark with a touch and had unknown effects on humans. An extractor? You can’t remember what Hot Spot called it while your head is spinning.

While the machine itself wasn’t very large, none of the mechs would even begin to be able to shut it down themselves. Especially since the kill-switch was inside the device. Their size much too large, a supposed fail safe the dearest Decepticon warlord put in place. Guess he hadn’t expected a human teammate, huh?

Due to Hot Spots expert strategizing and the combined reconnaissance efforts of Blades and Groove, the team had been able to determine when guard shifts ended and new ones began, at the warehouse the device was being kept. The switch in shifts allowed you an opening to sneak past undetected, too small compared to the cons to be extremely noticeable in such an environment. The team was taking the uh- alternate route. Clearing out rooms and sweeping hallways to cover behind you as you snuck into the main holding area.

It was empty, and that alone should’ve immediately set off your suspicion. Shift change or not, would they really leave this place without anyone guarding it at all? You internally curse yourself. Stupid decision, stupid stressful situations! Why- WHY would they leave it unguarded??- With the rest of the team fallen behind, you continued onward without heeding the warning signs. Today just seems like your lucky day.

Making your way into the device was easier than it should’ve been. Slipping between the metal plates, it was hardly difficult. The hair on your body stuck up as you walked through what felt like a lightning storm- full of electrical currents reaching out in arcs to trail over your flesh. It was beautiful in a way, almost enough to mesmerize you, had the sudden sound of Decepticon voices not been in the distance.

You calmed yourself and searched quickly for anything that could indicate an off switch- ‘Damn this Cybertronian tech. How unintuitive. How exactly is a little human supposed to find anything in here?? It’s all alien garbled nonsense and-‘

You screamed.

Streetwise and Rook were the first to react, being closest to the front. Metal clanged so loud it nearly ruptured your eardrums as they came barreling through two massive garage doors into the main warehouse, launching them in the process. You were thrashing in a Decepticons servo screaming bloody murder, a piece of the device lay broken on the ground beneath you. ‘He must’ve grabbed you by ripping the side off.’ It doesn’t exactly take Streetwise long to piece together what happened given how the con is cackling about catching the “little human pet”.

Having noticed the pissed Autobots that have entered the room following your obnoxious screeching, the con chucked you to the side like garbage. Bastard. Didn’t matter that you had almost turned off his precious masters device apparently. Making it unable to be used due to- what did First Aid say again? Lack of charge? Something like that. Hard to remember when you’d just had your body thrown like a ragdoll.

You shake your head, brought back to the present after recounting how you even ended up here- almost turned into a human jelly splatter painting on a warehouse wall. Your head is throbbing, the ringing in your ears is so loud you grip your head for relief. Too much noise- metal clanging and blaster fire doesn’t aid your current predicament.

Squinting and barely able to make out a massive bot form ahead of you as they beat the living scrap out of another bot. You’re surprised you’re alive given the size and strength difference. And ya know- metal vs bone.

If you had been able to even move at the time, your instincts would’ve demanded you high-tail it out of there. But a surge of worry flooded your system enough to overwrite your pain for a split second. A bot this big? How did you guys not notice, or hear anything at all? There were no indications that this place was being this heavily protected, and okay maybe you should’ve been a bit more suspicious before.

You’d been told stories by the team about other combiners, namely the Protectobots rival, Bruticus. Although, rival is probably a strong way of putting it. The Combaticons a formidable combat unit both in formation and out. Hot Spot and the others having made it vehemently clear that you were never going to present on a mission if any of them would even possibly be there. They were never going to risk you getting caught and potentially find yourself in the hands of their so called “medic”, someone Aid seemed particularly serious about.

For a moment, your heart nearly stopped at the idea of that exact con before you. You’d heard of their “accolades”, you knew how terrifying they were. You shake your head as hard as you can, desperately trying to clear your vision after the tears had been knocked out of you. It isn’t him right? It can’t be. Please don’t let the bot he’s laying into be one of yours-

Wait, is that Defensor?- You slide down the wall in a dubious relief. He dwarfs this entire space. When had they combined? Hold on, why did they combined at all? You’re happy it isn’t that walking nightmare Bruticus but, surely this one con would’ve been toast against six bots, even if First Aid doesn’t join the fighting portion. He’s a sweet pacifist by nature but definitely no push over, they’d do well to remember that. Something you always did admire about him.. no not right now! Daydream later! Mission first!

‘A simple mission’, the ironic thought rings through your skull as you regain yourself. Luckily, you seem to not have any broken bones. Guess that con needs to brush up on his aim. Probably won’t have the ability to after Defensor is done with him though.

Just as Defensor is about to end what can only be described as a fly-swatting, the con makes a beeline for an exit, luckily in the opposite direction from you. Ducking under machinery and behind beams to avoid the onslaught (pun intended) from the now angrier than you thought possible Defensor.

“You Autobots didn’t really think Lord Megatron would leave this place unarmed, did you? We watched you for weeks! Haha! Have fun saving your little pet!” The con slips under a door just as it closes, and before any further chase can occur you all become painfully aware of the wretched noise the device begins to emanate. Nails on a chalkboard doesn’t begin to cut it in terms of a description- and you only just recovered from the horrible noises from before. There’s a whirling, sort of wind up noise coming from the now sliced in twain machine, immediately triggering the part of your brain familiar with video game bombs. Logic says, this whole joint is about to go up, and you can barely move. Man- you just can’t catch a break today.

Now, you’ve seen Defensor before, but seeing such a titan prior does not mean it’s any less intimidating now. He glances at the device, then turns to you and kneels with an earthquake of a thud. Concerned and serious expression on his faceplate, your stomach does a summersault. When a massive servo reaches out to grab you for a second time today- distinctly larger than the last one- you nearly shirk away, pressing yourself into the wall out of reflex. Defensors optics only soften in response, worried and painfully aware he’s frightening you but not really having enough time to talk it out given the impending detonation of Megatrons latest toy.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” Such a large bot having a hushed tone should be illegal, gentle voice coaxing you to come forward like a hurt animal. It does little to settle the nerves in your belly. Or maybe that’s just the residual pain from before? Anyones guess.

It’s First Aid. You know that. The hand reaching for you is someone familiar and safe. Even still, it sends an instinctual shiver down your spine. Can’t help the involuntary tears welling up in your eyes. You know Defensor and the bots would never hurt you. They never have. Protecting you once you started going on missions and patrols with them. Modifying little areas of the base just for you. Always so careful around you, sweet to you. Honestly, they really do pamper you. Fondness creeps over you if you think about it for too long. Taking you on drives, and flights in Blades case. First Aid taking time to learn about human biology and culture. Streetwise chauffeuring you around the base on his shoulder plates, calling you endearing nicknames. Groove and Rook sharing their traditions and Hot Spot stories of their past, their home with you.

Sigh. It’s been a while since you joined the team. Who knew a random Tuesday night ice-cream run would lead to becoming the human liaison for an alien robot species disguised as vehicles? Definitely wasn’t on the bucket list. But, as silly as it sounds, you’ve come to love them. Maybe a little too much.

At first you shrugged it off as a little crush- kicking yourself for liking all six bots and acknowledging how unfair that would be to any of them and yourself. To choose. Don’t really know if said aliens robots have a concept of polyamory either, let alone if they’d be interested. You’ve kept your feelings private because of it. And now look? You’re stumbling into two gigantic caring servos that wrap around you so gently it makes you want to cry. It feels unfair.

Defensor cups you to his chassis and turns his back plate to the machine, the timbre of the whirling increasing by the second. Gripping onto Defensors servo like your life depends on. Can’t bare the idea of them sacrificing their lives for you, but know they’d do it in an instant. It’s agonizing knowing you can’t do the same for them, much less convey that you would beyond the use of words. Do they take it seriously when you say that? You aren’t sure.

Shaking in Defensors servo like a leaf, your tiny human EM field screaming with so much fear and uncertainty, they almost fall apart at the seams. They’re protecting you. Accurately named, those Protectobots. It’s who they are, you know that. You’re part of this team too afterall, have been for how long again? Still remember the first few weeks and how weird it was for everyone, navigating the new normal. Gotten to know each one of them now, became so much more than just teammates.

What will happen next? You’re absolutely terrified. Will this building collapse on all of you, leaving you trapped? Would Defensor be able to move through the rubble? This warehouse is the biggest thing you’ve ever seen. What will this device do upon exploding? Don’t know or really care right now what it will do to you, but it’s built to deal with sparks.. will they- you nearly throw up right in Defensors servo.

Will they die?

Your breath catches in your chest on a choked cry as the device erupts into a blinding white light. Even through Defensors servos, even as you squeeze your eyes shut to prepare for whatever happens- that light blinds you.

But it doesn’t hurt. It feels- pleasant? No, it feels warm. Good even. What is happening? Cant hear anything. No voices, no calamity, nothing. Well this certainly wasn’t the passing you were expecting.

That white light bleeds into- what even is this? You can see glimpses, moments of your time with the bots. A memory of when you introduced Groove and Rook to human videos games, it’s surrounded by an airy, happy sensation. Another of Hot Spot being admired by some children in a parking lot, he had been taking you for a drive that day after work. You got caught by some school kids who liked the ‘cool blue fire truck’. You look down- wait, you can see? You can move?

You’ve heard about different versions of the afterlife and such but this is some weird form of limbo. You’re not quite present, not quite there but still surrounded by visuals of all your life passing before you, reliving all the emotions and physical feelings attached to them. Memories and sensations that are not your own but they almost feel like they are. Had you just forgotten? Had they always been a part of you or is this new? An overpowering, simultaneous feeling of worry and affection consumes you, feeling like it’s pulling at your very being. It feels familiar.

You reach out a hand, fingertips barely grazing over another memory, this one of you and Blades. It isn’t from your eyes, though. You know it’s him because you remember that day, sitting on the roof of the base together, appreciating the view. The memory is from his perspective, and it- feels so soft. There’s warmth and some other emotion there that you can’t quite place. It almost feels like admiration, like a crush but that can’t be right. Can it? Did Blades feel that way too?

You shake your head, still throbbing from being launched earlier. You take a moment to look around. Everywhere you look there’s another one, mirror like and fragmented in nature. They most certainly aren’t memories of your own you’ve simply forgotten and are being showed in your last moments. Some belong to Rook, some to First Aid. That one was Streetwise. There are moments of their lives before the war, and the carnage they’d seen during. There are some together, before you joined the team. Some you hadn’t been told about before. They seem happy, but dysfunctional. Flashes of sweet memories of you together- in duos, trios, all of you. Each one feels more affectionate as they become more recent. Confusion and anxiety meld into a painful cocktail alongside everything else.

Okay, so Blades might have a little crush on you. But why are you seeing this now? And what about the others? Their memories towards you sharing those feelings, and even towards each other too? A bitter laugh escapes your throat. Maybe this is just some ideal fantasy your mind made up to comfort you in death. Seeing a life you wanted so badly being dangled right in front of you like a toy, just out of reach. What a mission this has turned out to be.

You feel the warmth fading, that bright white light going along with it. The mirror like memories seem to drift away until they’re out of sight, and the sensations along with them. You hadn’t realized how light you’d feel after, but there’s something different. You’re still here. You’re still in pain, those aches from earlier still gnawing at you. Your back and head still not very appreciative of your earlier con related debacle. There’s a new, hollow feeling in your chest you’re unfamiliar with. Feels like something is missing.

Before you have the chance to process what you’ve just experienced- life just seems to have it out for you today- Defensor buckles at the opposite knee. It’s so sudden it makes your head spin all over again, nearly making you sick as he does what he can to set you down safely before he comes apart.

From one bot becomes six. Loud bangs of metal resonate through the floor as each of the team crumples to the ground. They didn’t look injured while combined, but they’re uncharacteristically uncoordinated as they disassemble this time. Coupled with the panic of before- that not quite alive but not quite dead limbo you were in, seeing so many memories and feelings that weren’t your own, getting caught by a Decepticon, the device imploding on itself.. you’re more than a bit shaken up right now.

Feeling like you’ve forgotten to breathe, you choke on the dirt and ash in the air. Around you there’s rubble, the device having blown a massive hole in the side of the warehouse that is, miraculously, still standing. Constructicons sure know how to make a sturdy build, gotta give them that. There’s smoke emanating from where the machine once was, and your body screams at you to stop moving around so much to take in your surroundings. There’s no fire, at least.

A few minutes feels like an eternity as you all gather your senses, and the realization begins to dawn on you. Remembering what Streetwise had once told you about Cybertronian culture, you start to full-blown panic. The light, the visions, the sensations, that numbing hollow feeling in your chest- the machine.

Your breathing stops. The machine. It was built by Megatron to use on enemy Cybertronians sparks. It didn’t kill them when it blew up, instead it-

“Y/n!” Groove is the first to speak, but you’re too stunned to pay him much mind. From where he is on the ground, not too far from you on his servos and knees, he can see your eyes shot wide. Your panicked expression as you begin to grapple with what’s just happened, clutching your chest.

Groove sees First Aid rush to your side out of the corner of his vision, kneeling next to you to check over your injuries from before. He wanted to rip that con apart when he saw what happened to you, joining Rook and Streets right after they’d busted through the door. That scream you let out- it haunts him. He’d thought about it too many times before, terrified of the reality that could come to be, you getting caught and hurt by the cons merely for associating with them. His processor went into autopilot the minute he got there, and before any of them could really communicate, they were already combining.

Groove looks to his side, Rook is there. Cupping his helm in his servos, and it physically pains him to see the two of you like this. Doesn’t enjoy seeing any of the team like this. Feels everyone’s emotions right now and it drives him insane that he can’t comfort any of you. He’d been in the same boat as you for the most part, having feelings he didn’t know how to handle for people he didn’t know how to explain it to. How would he even begin to explain that? It’s not like he even knew how anyone felt until the device- well anyway. The reality is setting in now, he can feel your EM field spiking from this distance and it makes him just want to scoop you up and protect you. Groove settles for letting Aid be the one to comfort you, always did admire how gentle the medic could be. He pushes himself to his peds and makes his way over to Rook.

A servo reaches out to help Streetwise to his peds, and he has to force his optics upwards to meet Hot Spots. Even with his mask on, he can see the uncertainty written all over his leaders faceplate. In all honesty, Streets doesn’t know where you’ll all go from here. But he doesn’t have the luxury of thinking about that right now, it’s paramount you all get back to base before Decepticons come crawling back into this hole.

Hot Spot glances over his shoulder plate at Blades, who looks almost.. relieved? Afraid? Possibly a mix of both. He watches the copter let out a massive vent, chancing a peak in return to Hot Spot before looking away again. He’d expected the usually moody red and white mech to be more stunned, but maybe it’s better this way. Ever the leader that he is, Hot Spot makes his rounds to check over Rook and Groove before finally making his way to you and Aid, Streetwise in tow.

First Aid kneels next to you and reaches a servo around your back. “Y/n, please let me check your injuries. I know this is a lot to take in, but we don’t now how serious your condition is.” His soothing voice rings through your head to almost clear your thoughts. If you hadn’t been injured, you’d probably be unable to suppress the unruly desire to tug him into a hug. Still uncertain about what’s happening and admittedly a bit desperate for comfort after all that’s gone down, what’s probably not been more than 10 minutes of real time has felt like six lifetimes. Well, seven, actually-

You give Aid a shallow nod, allowing him to check you over as Blades and the others join the two of you. The medic looks visually more relaxed as he finds you to be relatively unharmed. Certain to be covered in bruises and scrapes for sure, but nothing extensive. Thank you human squish durability. It’s no metal plating, but you’re still kickin so who’s complaining?

It’s quiet for a few minutes. Uncomfortably quiet. All of you hesitating to say much of anything, having come to your own conclusions about the situation at hand and definitely needing clarity, but still unwilling to speak up. Groove lays an uncertain servo on the back of a very shaken up Rook, who hasn’t looked away from the ground the entire time. Blades and Streetwise are watching the exits, and Hot Spot rationalizes how to even go about explaining all of this. Accurately named, First Aid speaks up first.

“Nothing serious, but I’ll need to check over everyone at the base just to be sure.” Your breathing has calmed down, and the medic lets out a vent he hadn’t realized he was holding, relieved more than anything that this mess hasn’t seemed to cause you any permanent harm. Yet. Removing his servos from your still idling form to be on the safe side, given everything that’s happened.

“Are we just gonna-?” Groove glances between the medic and Hot Spot, he doesn’t even manage to get his full sentence out before Streetwise interrupts,

“Gonna what? Ignore it? Of course not. We can’t not talk about this, there’s so much Y/n needs to know-“ a little harsher than he intends to sound, he cringes at his own tone. He doesn’t mean it, and it stings in his spark when he sees Grooves expression fall further.

You make an attempt to stand, immediately met by more than one servo reaching out to assist you. Rook looks like he’s seen a ghost when your knee pops and you have to put your hands up in defense to show you’re okay. As okay as you can be, you guess.

“Actually..” you let out a shaky exhale as it all clicks into place, “I think I already understand.”

You’re all sparkbonded now.

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Note: My silly little concepts for fics are slowly being written bc I’ve got wrist braces now so I’m back with a vengeance, lol

Copyright ©️dommiso do not edit or alter, plagiarize, or claim any works as your own. do not repost my work on tiktok, wattpad, ao3, tumblr, or anywhere else. do not repost. do not use my work for ai.

[flakeeyplants]

What do you know about streetwise.. cuz I barely know anything about him

EDIT: timelines streetwise* to clarify… I didn’t realize how diff bro looked in timelines

I needa read RID idk why I’m putting it off I’m just nervous

[rodi-16]

hello! have you perchance done Streetwise.. love him (and the protectobots in general!!) SO MUCH

I have! Specifically him in Idw, I'll be sure to link it at the bottom! I did make a figure post with a 3rd party figure of him (can be found under his tag), honestly I do need to make another figure post... might post one tomorrow.... anyways hope you enjoy and thanks for sending this in! I'll try and mix continuities for this post.

Soo most are g1 and a few are marvel... I shall find more however there is a bonus of the protectobots all combined (might be making a post of them together later) till then enjoy Streewise's second post!

*also g1 wtf are those lips? the fuck? I mean at a distance he's fine, but close up? Compared to his idw counterpart....*

[arcee4me]

SHUT UP NOBODY TALK, LOOK AT THE SILLYS

[hoiststowline]

_streetwise x reader

[a/n: this sorta turned into a character study, similar to a hot spot one I did here!]

having been somewhat accustomed to being let down, if only to save himself the moping period, he’s learned to not become attached to persons, places, or things. it was not an easy habit to break, it took discipline and the expectation of disappointment to alleviate the brunt of the hit. after some time, the vicious cycle of attachment and heartache left, leaving some unhappiness in it’s disappearance, but not enough to sidetrack him from the task at hand. 

it became an even more difficult tendency to ignore upon settling into routine. Streetwise would begrudgingly admit that he’s gotten comfortable, acclimatized to a lax schedule and an onboard of familiar faces on the daily. even if he butts heads with some of his teammates, he trusts them and finds a sense of normalcy in a somewhat chaotic situation. 

Streetwise hadn’t realized the extent of his newfound ease until just the other day. it happened mid-sentence, pausing in surprise as if to reinspect if he’d just spoken the words he thought he did. 

“What’s with the face?” Rook asks, appearing a bit concerned at Streetwises’ abrupt stop. “I can cover for you, I don’t mind.” 

“I-” he starts, but promptly shakes the shock from his shoulders. “Thank you. I’ll owe you one.” 

the casualness is lost to him, but it’s immensely appreciated nonetheless. he doesn’t like to make shift changes often, vying to hold firm in the idea that he should complete his tasks first before seeking your company. 

some days, though, he’s beginning to find it extremely arduous. especially when he’s away or you’ve become busy, unable to see each other for lengthy periods of time. phone calls are even few and far in between lately, dwindled that Streetwise has decided he’s had enough. 

“Streetwise?” 

pulled from his thoughts prematurely, on reflex his rearview mirror tilts downwards, towards the drivers seat. sure enough, you’re staring right at it, maintaining a focused but worried expression. 

realizing that he’s acknowledging you without uttering a word, you continue. “Are you okay? You seem a little…distracted.”

even if it perfectly defines how he’s felt as of late, it’s not a characteristic he would ever use to describe himself in conversation. Streetwise supposes he finally has experienced how Hot Spot constantly feels, tugged in six different directions and then some. such a burden he’s been shielded from, and to perceive such an overwhelming sense of intrusion into his priorities drives him a little crazy.

so pulling you from your much earned downtime because he’s missed you terribly is not a justifiable exchange, unable to be rationalized. it arrives with an awareness that he’s asked much of you lately, even if your smile upon meeting up with him subsides some of that self-reproach momentarily. 

Streetwise isn’t blind to the copious amount of favors he bargains, not an inordinate quantity, but certainly disproportionate to what he has to offer in return. there’s guilt there, even after you’ve insisted you’d complete his proposition without a second thought. hell, half the time you do it without seeking a reason, simply knowing that something was required to alleviate a stressful situation he’s found himself in. 

that isn’t fair, and he knows it. expresses his concerns about it all the time, ensuring that you never feel cornered. he’d never forgive himself, knowing that you’ve most definitely cashed in personal favors, switching schedules and moving things around so as to better accommodate them and their timetables. you appear to have no qualms in regards to it, an indifferent shrug of your shoulders and the same small smile. “I don’t mind,” 

even if you appear to be unbothered by it, he’s constantly interrogating you to ensure you sincerely aren’t. if there’s something he can’t afford to lose this time, it’s most definitely your trust and relationship, as him being infatuated with you is well beyond an understatement. 

Streetwise discerns himself as a difficult study, so for you to be able to observe his worries is something marvelous and frightening all the same. the latter only because he knows he’s rapidly approaching the point of no return, if not already there, and has come to terms that he is absolutely in love with you. so the give on your end makes him feel abusive of your kindness, as nothing he can do will make the circumstance feel good, per se, as he’s so terrified to lose you. 

eventually, he remembers to answer. 

“I’m fine.” he hums, struggling to sound sincere. “Sorry. I swear, I didn’t intend to ignore you when I asked if you were busy.”

you carefully assess his words, mouth opening to answer, but he beats you to it. “Okay, maybe I am a little distracted.” 

“Something on your mind?” you return, a familiar genuineness permeating. “I’m here to talk, if you’d like.” “Hey, that’s my line,” a jest, followed by a warm laugh. “I do feel a little bad about dragging you out tonight. Actually, a lot of bad. It’s late, and I’m sure you have things to do tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to feel bad,” you insist, fingers finding the leather of the seat, meant in a comforting gesture. “I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t want to.”

in turn, Streetwise studies your words carefully, before mumbling a single word. “Promise?”

“I promise,” you respond, that beautiful smile never wavering. “I did miss you.”  something hitches, likely his voice box. “Kinda the reason for my call. I missed you so much.”

[hoiststowline]

_streetwise x reader

bad days have a way of finding Streetwise, more often than not. a harsh reminder of every flaw he's carried with him from Cybertron to Earth, almost like the saying goes: anything that can go wrong will go wrong. it’s like the rain that clings to his already grimy plating, carving streaky rivers down his frame, each one making him feel like the fool he’s come to believe he is, lately. he stands dumbly in the command center, letting the water travel off his plating and hit the floor with a unsatisfying splash.

"Forgot to check the weather?" Groove hums, turning to face the second in command from his position in front the computer.

"Clearly," Streetwise returns dryly, unamused.

Groove considers poking fun a bit more, but then takes in the defeated expression the white mech wore, typically one to be more reserved with his emotions. deciding it would be in his best interest to deliver the good news, the gold mech leans over the back of the chair and casts a sympathetic glance Streetwises' way.

"Oh, by the way,"

Streetwise had begun the walk back toward his room, but halts halfway across the lobby, catching the change in Groove's tone.

the motorcycle smiles exuberantly at his dead stop. "A certain someone was looking for you,"

swiftly, Streetwise moves to compose himself, shoulders twitching upward from their previous slouched position. "Did they call?"

Groove shrugs, spinning back around to continue monitoring the screens contents. "I dunno. Maybe go check your berthroom."

Streetwise keeps his normal stride, but there's a hint of urgency to start wiping the mud from his white plating. feeling a self consciousness consume him, he halts just before his door, looking down at himself before pushing everything aside with a reluctant ex-vent.

the metal door slides over with an automated hiss, revealing his cramped berthroom that doubles as his office, illuminated by the overhead lights not turned all the way up. immediately, he crosses the threshold, optics panning the room to find you up against the wall, sitting on the ground with an overnight backpack beside you.

upon his entry, the door closed over behind him with a less-than graceful clunk, causing you to look up his way with a slightly startled expression. once you'd quietly realized the noise was Streetwise, a warm smile overtakes your features as you jump to your feet.

"Welcome back," you hum, taking notice of his mud-caked attire but choose to keep that observance to yourself. "I hope it's okay that I was waiting in here, Groove said-oh!"

Streetwise is fast, far quicker than a mech of his size should be able to move. you'd hardly blinked and he'd dropped to a knee, extending a servo to you, a wordless invitation, meant for you and only you to understand what he's asking for. you'd never pinned Streetwise for an overly affectionate bot, but he's full of surprises that you adore wholeheartedly, his doting nature translating easily between parts of his life.

without delay, you accept his offer, having an inkling you knew what was coming next.

"Sorry for my appearance," Streetwise mumbles, gathering your carefully into two servos, looking for something you would define as a hug. "It's raining outside."

he's extremely careful, but swift to lift you to his face-plate, hypervigilant to avoid any grime that had made it that far. he's gotten what he was looking for, lips moving against your shoulder as he deposits several benign kisses there.

"You don't have to apologize, as long as you're okay." your fingers find his respective cheeks, kissing his forehead in a consoling gesture. "I can only imagine, the weather was already pretty bad on my way over here."

Streetwise huffs into your sweatshirt, slowly standing as you remain cupped in his servos. "I think I'll survive,"

you survey the way his optics remain shuttered, holding you close as his thumbs spin soft circles over your back. it’s almost the way it usually is when it’s just the two of you behind closed doors, but this time, there’s something quieter about him, as if an unpredicted ease had seemingly has consumed his entire frame. Streetwise carried stress like it was his job title, shoulders tense, jaw tight, always pushing himself to stay a step ahead of whatever came next. it appeared to dissipate some when he was able to scrounge time to relax, but that reward never came frequent enough for the protectobot.

today was different. this was a surprise, an amazing one- time he didn't have count down because he could never properly live in the moment. time was just so precious with you, even more-so when it was just the two of you, so how could he not be selfish to wish it could stay like this forever?

"Not that I mind, because I don't," you start, now kissing his nose lovingly. "Do you want me to help you get washed up?"

Streetwise hugs you just a little tighter, burrowing deeper into your touch as if remotely possible. "As long as it's alright with you, I'd like to stay like this a little longer,"

"No problem, Streets." you murmur, knowing exactly what he meant once more, yourself more than fulfilled to stay like this as long as he'd have you.

[hoiststowline]

_streetwise x reader

[a/n: round three of the unfinished fics from the drafts! a fyi: this one is also unedited.]

conversation always felt so effortless amongst specific company, able to enthusiastically exchange words and divert the topic when it appeared to fizzle out. silence was once a stranger in Streetwises' relationship with you, though as of late it's appeared to wedge itself unwelcome in what was once simple chatter. he's practically watched the gears turning in your mind, face giving away your inner thoughts even if the expressions are almost imperceptible. your lips have opened and shut now four times, and he can't even blame you- his have about seven times, but he's lucky enough that you can't see that.

"It usually isn't this boring,"

he finds, hoping to spark something upon the dying embers of discussion. he wants this to stop being so awkward, but perhaps he doesn’t deserve that as much as he thinks he does.

at the sound of his voice, you look up from the absentminded nudging of your takeout around the flimsy plastic container.

"Boring?" you entreat, a soft smile adhering happily to your features. "I don't find this boring."

you weren't disinterested in what was going on, and hoped that your silence hadn’t suggested otherwise. in all honesty, it was quite the opposite, you were simply content to be curled up on his passenger seat, enjoying the comfort of his company. things hadn't been perfect since the other day, but truthfully you knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be at the given moment, drawn to his side almost magnetically.

you had been searching all week to find some alone time with the mech, all smiles even when he'd stumbled over the offer twice before finding the right words. it hadn't felt like your place to try and bring up the subject, in fear of doing so prematurely, so you opted to leave the matter alone and pretend as if it never occurred, at least for the time being. not because you wished to do so, but if only to provide the space he had seemed to be seeking after what you can only label as the escapade.

several factors had hindered his ability to form a proper sentence, but he also had to find the perfect circumstance to extend the invitation. he'd tried to nudge the responsibility upon his teammates, seeking one of them to ask you, knowing that he couldn't ever scrounge the nerve to do so especially after what happened last week. and if you were considering this a date, which Streetwise was almost certain you weren't, it would be an awful one, full of a quiet he can't seem to fill, as much as he tried.

"I'm having fun," you earnestly implore, unable to stifle the twinges of red that settle over your ears and cheeks. searching to keep this conversation flowing, you add gently: "I have no expectations, I've never been on a patrol before. What normally happens?"

"Well..." he ex-vents, then withdraws the lie he had settled on. "Okay, you got me. It is usually this boring,"

you laugh softly, reaching down to place the container of food back into the bag resting on the floorboards. Streetwise can't help the erratic jolt of his rearview mirror, following your movements before observing you settle back against the passenger door. it's still sometimes a strange notion to not only observe, but feel a presence in his cabin, as weightless as your form is. very early on when they had met you, Rook once relayed how he'd forgotten you were there, so quiet and timid around them while they were still earning your trust.

even now, it was the first time he's seen you so relaxed in a while, dressed in comfy clothes that suited you undeniably well. it was difficult to believe that you'd been so willing to give up your night off to keep him company on such a fruitless task, but when he'd asked, your entire face lit up. as if you couldn’t quite conceptualize he was actually doing so, your excitement bubbled to the surface, always genuine and unfiltered, in a way that Streetwise, despite his usual restraint, couldn’t help but match.

"You really do this all by yourself?" you inquire, bundling a bit deeper into the black leather of the seat, hiking your blanket higher across your waist.

"For the most part, yeah," he rumbles, headlights flickering alive as something pings on his proximity sensors, but it proves to be a raccoon not far off from his hiding spot. "When I get to drive around, it's not so bad. The sitting here, though, it's the pits."

"I can only imagine." you return, sincerity at the forefront. then, a idea crosses your mind, and you sit with it for a moment, before temptation ultimately wins. "I am a little surprised you asked, though."

he pauses a little too long, unable to decode what you meant. "Surprised? What for?"

not quite expecting his confusion, you backpedal, unsure if now is the right time.

"I...I don't know." your fingers nervously draw shapes over the leather, searching for something else to say to fill the silence, but come up empty.

"If I don't make it obvious enough, you have my apologies," Streetwise starts, trying to not trip over his words to instill his point. "I like your company. That's the important part, actually."

"Aw, I enjoy yours too, Streets." you hum, feeling a familiar warmth spread over the apples of your cheeks. it feels nice, even if the doubt still swirls in the pit of your stomach. "I mean, this is-"

your words are promptly cut off by the sound of another engine somewhere behind him, set back in the trees yet too close for comfort. immediately, your shoulders jump to your ears, startled by the noise amongst the silence, but Streetwise doesn't seem overly concerned at the sound.

"It's most likely Groove or Rook," he soothes, head-lamps flickering to life. "We aren't too far from base, they probably think they're being funny-"

the engine roars again, and it's something far louder than the acquainted sound of the motorcycle or the navy SUV. your teeth sink nervously into your bottom lip, an action that Streetwise takes immediate notice of, sending inconceivably insistent alarms to his processor to protect you, to remove that nervousness and panic that twists within you.