Transformers Prime: ||fem!reader||

The first thing she noticed was the sound. Low. Mechanical. A steady hum that didn't belong to any ordinary engine. It crawled along her spine, unnatural and deep.

Then came the yellow. It gleamed as it turned onto the lot, each movement far too smooth, too... calculated. The way it moved didn't match the way a car should. Like it wasn't driving so much as choosing where to go. Watching.

Her grip on the cold glass bottle slipped. It hit the concrete with a sharp clink, rolling once before settling uselessly at her feet. Her heart jumped to her throat. Legs tense, she rose from the stoop in front of the garage and took a step back, instinct screaming danger.

The yellow car—sleek, and roaring with silent intent—rolled to a slow stop directly in front of her. She didn't move. Didn't blink. Her fingers twitched once at her side, her breath caught somewhere between her ribs.

And then—click—the passenger window eased down with mechanical grace. What she saw next didn't compute at first. Not until a familiar voice broke the silence.

"Hey, YN! You won't beli—"

Her entire body lurched forward.

"Get out."

She didn't wait for a reply. Her hand flew to the door handle and yanked it open with enough force to rattle the frame. Raf flinched, startled by her sudden appearance. His sentence died on his lips as she reached in and grabbed him by the sleeve, hauling him from the seat in one swift motion.

"Whoa—wait!" he yelped as she dragged him free. He stumbled, nearly lost his balance, but she caught him with a sharp, steadying hand on his shoulder. She didn't let go.

"Move." Her voice was low, strained, and urgent.

Without giving him a chance to plant his feet, she tugged him around the corner of the building, away from the open lot, away from the car—or whatever it was. Behind the building, hidden from view, she finally stopped. Her chest rose and fell sharply as she turned on him.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice a fierce whisper. "Why the hell would you get inside that thing? After yesterday—after what we saw—it could've killed you!"

Raf looked up at her with wide eyes, glasses slipping down his nose. "They're not trying to hurt us!" he insisted. "Please—just listen—"

"No, you listen to me." Her hand shot out, gripping his arm with just enough pressure to make him go still. Her eyes locked onto his like they could hold him in place. "That thing is not safe. You don't just climb into the same kind of machine that nearly turned you into roadkill the day before."

"They saved us!" Raf cried, his voice rising higher with every word. "That bike one too!—Both of them were fighting the ones that actually tried to kill us! He protected us! And he came back to help!"

Her mouth parted, but no words came out. Her grip loosened slightly.

"They want to keep us safe," Raf continued, the emotion in his voice trembling just beneath the surface. "That's why he came back—because we're some of the only people who know what's going on!"

She stared at him, eyes searching his face, trying to find the joke, the mistake, the childish misunderstanding that had led to this insane claim. Something, anything, that would make this make sense.

"And how exactly do you know that?" she asked slowly.

Raf paused. His expression shifted—nervous, but not uncertain. Then, with a quiet inhale, he lifted one hand and pointed back toward the Camaro still idling in the distance.

"Because he told me," he said simply.

She blinked once. She didn't say anything. Her eyes only studied him, unmoving. Her posture rigid, jaw clenched, like she was holding back a thousand questions and a scream all at once.

Then finally—finally—she exhaled a slow, disbelieving breath and shook her head.

"Oh, come on," she muttered, raising a hand and gesturing vaguely in the direction of the car. "You think you can understand that? All it does is beep and glitch like some busted vending machine. There's no way you're gonna stand here and tell me you—"

"I am telling you," Raf interrupted, his voice cracking with urgency. "I understand him. He talks to me. With the sounds, yeah, but I know what he means."

Her mouth opened again, then shut. She turned slightly, just enough to peek at the edge of the yellow car from behind the building, like it might explode if she looked too long. When she turned back, her eyebrows were knit tightly.

"Can you even hear yourself right now?"

Raf lowered his gaze to the gravel between them, his bangs falling into his eyes. He rocked a little on his heels, then pushed his glasses up with both hands. When he looked back up at her, his voice was softer—less defensive.

"I know it sounds... a little crazy," he admitted, with a half-shrug and an awkward smile. "But you saw it too, right? He stopped the other robot. He got in the way. He could've run, but he didn't."

She didn't answer.

His voice dropped a little lower. "He saved you."

The words hung there, something about it too heavy to swat away. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She shifted her weight like she was trying to anchor herself to the ground.

"What are you trying to say, Raf?"

He hesitated for only a second. Then, with quiet resolve, Raf squared his shoulders—just enough to seem taller, older than he was. His fists balled at his sides, not out of defiance, but determination.

"I think we should go with them," he said.

The words didn't hit like a shout—they didn't need to. They landed like the steady drop of water in a silent room: undeniable.

For a long moment, she didn't move.

Then her head lowered, slow and heavy, like the weight of everything he said finally sank in. Her lips pressed together as her teeth found the inside of her cheek, biting down. Hard. Her shoulders tensed as she took a deep, sharp breath into her lungs—but it didn't help.

The knot in her chest didn't loosen.

But as she lifted her eyes to him again, she saw something in his expression that gutted her. He wasn't being impulsive. He wasn't scared.

He believed this.

His brown eyes—too big for a face that still held baby-fat—were full of steady conviction. His jaw was set, and though his hands trembled slightly, his gaze didn't waver. He'd already made his choice.

Raf would go with them—with or without her.

"You don't know what you're getting into," she said, her voice low. "You don't even know what they are, Raf. You think they're on our side, but what if they're not? What if they're just better at pretending than the other one was?"

"I do know," he replied. There was no anger in it—only calm, unwavering certainty. "Not everything. But enough."

She shook her head, turning slightly away from him. The sunlight caught her face, and for a second, she felt older than she was. Tired. Not physically—but in her bones.

"It's not your job to know," she muttered. "You're a kid. You're supposed to be at school. Playing games. Doing dumb stuff. Not deciding if robots with speakers are trustworthy."

Raf smiled faintly at that. "I don't think there's a class for that, YN."

She let out a bitter chuckle, one that faded just as fast as it came. Her eyes drifted back toward the corner of the building—the gleam of yellow paint barely visible around the edge. Still waiting. 

It was waiting for them.

"...So that's it?" she asked quietly, voice almost lost to the wind. "You're just going to go?"

Raf's expression softened. "Well..." he began. "Will you come?"