Shatter (Transformers), x Male Reader ~New Story~

Chapter 2: The busted-up Plymouth

*Ok Chapter 2, the first chapter didn't suck good to know, this chapter will introduce the reader and reveal a certain alien's existence to the said reader I will try not to fuck it up. *

Present-day, (Home-town).

Summertime was a time to relax, enjoy outdoor activities and unique pursuits. In (Y/n)'s hometown, girls in jean shorts and tank tops roamed searching for the next thrill.

Unique pursuits indeed.

(Y/n)'s pursuits currently were not focused on the beautiful girls that walked the sidewalks in his hometown. Instead, he was focused on the prospect of a different type of beauty.

This type of beauty was metallic and usually had powerful engines made to growl and usually led back to the other beauty.

Girls love cool cars.

(Y/n) tapped his fingers on the steering wheel bored as he listened to Rock you like a hurricane blare through his car's radio. 

He slowed his car to a stop at the red light above and waited impatiently.

The engine in his Grabber Blue 1970 Ford Mustang hummed loudly as it fought the rock song for dominance in the interior of the Ford's muscle.

(Y/n) was a collector of classic muscle cars, he would find the old broken down vehicles and repair them and sell them or keep them depending upon their essential value.

Like the 1969 Dodge charger, a true gem in American culture simply because of General Lee the main influence for the old show Dukes of Hazzard.

(Y/n) had repaired almost every American Classic still around, out of pure love of the muscle and style of the cars.

(Y/n) was a pure fan of all American Muscle.

(Y/n) was headed to a friend of his who helped him find these cars and buy them, his friend had called him the other day telling him about an old 1972 Plymouth Satellite that looked like it got hit by a freight train.

It had immediately caught (Y/n)'s attention A Plymouth GTX? he had yet to even see one in real life yet, he had to jump on this opportunity.

That is what led him to drive out of town and a few towns over until he finally pulled up to an old scrapyard which was lined with columns of old shipping containers.

(Y/n) pulled his Ford Mustang to a stop beside a tow truck which his friend Jacob was leaned against, smoking a cigarette.

(Y/n) opened the door to his car and stepped out.

"You see its condition yet?" (Y/n) asked as he shut the door behind him.

"C'mon man no 'hey Jacob nice seeing you thanks for looking at this piece of shit for me while I got here'?" Jacob asked as he blew a puff of smoke from his lips.

(Y/n) simply raised a brow.

"I thought you said you quit." (Y/n) asked as he eyed the cigarette.

Jacob took another drag of his cigarette then tossed it down stomping it out.

"Easier said than done man, c'mon I've been stalling that old fucker since before you got here," Jacob said as the two entered the scrapyard.

"Thanks, I owe you." (Y/n) stated as they walked towards the only open shipping container on the scrapyard where an old man stood impatiently his car parked a few feet behind him.

"Took your damn time didn't you (L/n)?" The old man griped out as the two younger men approached.

"It was a long drive, so...this is it huh?" (Y/n) asked as he looked at the hunk of battered red metal inside the container.