AN – New story! Yeah, I know, I haven't really updated any of my others in a while… However, my Transformers obsession has made a colossal comeback and I decided to try my hand at writing for it. As usual, the focus will be an OC.

Constructive criticism is appreciated, flames give me the impression you don't know the first thing about writing as an art, and as the saying goes, 'Don't like, don't read'.

I own nothing, except for my OC and that's the way it is.

Enjoy

Chapter 1

"Hey!
You're a rock star!
Hey!
You're a lost star!
Hey!
Don't tell me how to live my life
I'mma make it on just fine tonight."

"Did'n' know ya could sing," I jumped, startled, as our resident saboteur's voice spoke up from the entrance to my quarters. "Or dance."

"Um… uh, yeah…" I scuffed my pede. "I didn't hear you knock…"

"Fergot," He shrugged nonchalantly. "Yer pretty good fer a youngling."

"Uh, thanks…" I had never wished to disappear more as the one mech I had secretly been crushing on for, well, ever was standing before me, complimenting me.

"C'mon, ya look like ya could use a cube," He clapped a servo onto my thin shoulder plating, causing my doorwings to flick as my spark soared. "Ol' Ratch wants ya ta keep yer levels up. Can't have no younglings growin' up malnourished." I remained speechless as he guided me along towards the rec room, chattering good-naturedly the entire way. I had barely said four words on our trek, but he didn't seem to mind. I was increasingly aware of his servo sliding in between my doorwings, which only made them tense further.

I was relieved when we finally made it to the rec room and the contact ceased. He filled a cube of energon and handed it to me with a grin. "Drink up 'r ya gonna have ta answer ta Ratchet." He chuckled and watched as I nodded and quickly downed my energon.

"Th-thank you, sir," I inclined my helm respectfully.

"Aw, no need fer formalities 'ere, Stryker." He placed his servo on my helm, his way of showing affection, and slid his digits along my chevron. "Go on, 'ave yer fun." He nudged me off in the direction of my elder brother Bluestreak. Without another word he left, leaving me stunned and slightly giddy.

"Hey, Stryker, come on over and have a seat, unless you want to stand there by yourself and attract all the attention of everyone in the room." Blue called. That snapped me out of my reverie, and I made my way awkwardly over to him.

"Sorry, Blue," I sighed, my visor dimming. "I just…"

"I know, Stryke, but you have to watch out for yourself. You're still a youngling, which means you're going to be very popular until your seals have been broken. Besides, you're an attractive mech. Watch yourself or you may find yourself taken advantage of."

"That's not what I want to hear, Blue," I grumbled, my doorwings drooping.

"Well, it's true. It was the same for me when I was a youngling until I got together with Smokescreen." He waggled his optic ridges at me and gently punched my arm. "Y'know, you're making it kind of obvious when you act so out of it around him."

"Wh-what?!" My visor flashed brighter in shock. "Am I really?"

"Mmhmm," He smirked. "Not sure anyone else has noticed yet, but you keep it up and it'll all change."

"Great, thanks…." I stared down at my empty cube. "Any more advice?"

"Yeah, watch out for the twins," He chuckled. "They like the young ones, and they don't mind double-teaming."

"B-Blue!"

¿?

"Good, you've been keeping your levels up," Ratchet commented, observing the results of my latest scan. "Your armour is forming nicely, although rather thin. How's that visor workin' out for you?"

"Fine, thank you," I replied, adjusting the brightness as Ratchet turned on the overhead light. "I can see much better with this one. By whose design is it?" He handed me a cube of medicinal-grade energon. I raised it to my lip plates dutifully.

"Jazz," I choked on my intakes, spluttering in the energon. "I had mentioned you were having difficulties adjusting to standard visors, so he offered one of his own design. I believe it is modelled after his own." I didn't realize I was gaping until Ratchet pushed my chin to close my mouth.

"He-he did that… for me?" My doorwings shifted, rising on my back.

"Of course! Do not think so little of yourself, Stryker," He cuffed me on my helm. "You may be a youngling and forbidden from entering battle, but that does not mean you are worth any less! We care about you, all of us. Jazz did what he could to ease your suffering," He sighed as coolant leaked from beneath my visor, betraying my tears. "Despite your age, you are an equal, kid."

"But why?" He sighed.

"I understand your trepidation," I flinched as he placed his servo on my knee joint. "But you must understand, amongst the Autobots you are safe, you are equal."

"R-Ratchet…" I threw my small frame at the CMO and wrapped my arms around his neck, crying like a sparkling.

"There, there," He patted my back, smoothing between my doorwings to calm me down. "You're safe here, this is your home. Now, get some rest. You may stay here if you like." I nodded, wiping the tears from my face, and curled up on the med berth to allow my systems to cycle into recharge.

¿?

I couldn't help the tremor of excitement that tingled through my systems as I made my way through the Ark. I was nearing mechhood and that meant I would soon be able to make myself useful other than a pretty little bot to look at. That seemed to be all I was good for at the present. Admittedly, I was fairly attractive. I was no Jazz or Sunstreaker, but I was an alluring mixture of white and forest green with a few black accents. Soon I would be earning my place as a warrior amongst the Autobots. Soon I would be a mech.

"Stryker," I turned to see Sideswipe coming up, cheeky grin plastered across his faceplates. "Where are ya headin' in such a hurry?" He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and leered down at me.

"To-to meet with Bl—" I stiffened as his servo stroked along the edge of my doorwing. "What are you d-doing?!"

"You're such a pretty little bot, ya know that?" He leaned down to whisper in my audial, running his servo more firmly along the panelling of my sensors. "And the way ya react to my touches is just so sexy." He slicked his glossa along my chevron, causing me to shiver. "Ya like that, don'tcha? I could make ya feel even better. Sunny and me'll make ya feel real good. C'mon, Sunny's waitin' back in our quarters." He relented his caresses and began pulling me along towards his quarters.

"N-no…!" I struggled from his grip as my senses returned. "I-I'm not… I don't…"

"Don't be shy," He grinned, strengthening his hold on me. "We'll be gentle. You'll love it, I promise." I stumbled a bit as he pulled me along.

"Please, no—"

"What's taking so long, Sides?" Sunstreaker appeared in front of us impatiently.

"We're coming, we're coming," The red twin replied. "He's a bit nervous." The gold one was at my other side in an instant.

"Come on, now, we don't bite," He cooed, brushing a servo along my cheek. "Hard."

"Aw, just ignore Sunny," Sideswipe bumped me lightly. "He likes dirty-talk in the berth." We were almost at their quarters; I could see the door.

"B-berth…? No… Please, I don't want t—"

"You'll never know pleasure like that of the Lambo twins." Sunstreaker cut me off again with a wide grin. "We'll take you to the cosmos and back." We were outside their quarters and I struggled harder.

"I'm not r-ready, please…" My doorwings were quivering and I felt coolant form beneath my visor as the door was opened. "Please, no… Stop, please…" They pulled me inside and the door began to close. I choked back a sob as I watched my only chance for escape slip away.

"Now, now," A black servo stopped the door from closing, prompting it to open as it risked crushing the appendage. "Ah believe 'e said no, ya two," My spark soared as my saviour came in the form of a certain saboteur.

"Uh, Jazz…" Sunstreaker released me, stepping back.

"We were just, uh…" Sideswipe tried to back away as well, but Jazz levelled him with a look that made him freeze.

"Ya were tryin' ta force a younglin' inta yer berth." His visor darkened, threatening. "Touch 'im again an' ya'll hafta deal with me. Got it?" The red twin nodded quickly, his optics widening in fear. "Y'alright, Stryker?"

"Y-yes, sir," I stuttered, scurrying over to cower at Jazz's side.

"Good," He turned to leave, ushering me along with him. "Let's get ya outta here an' some'ere away from these two jokers."

"Yes, sir,"

"An' quit callin' me sir!" He grinned, placing his servo on my helm. "Mah name's Jazz."

"Yes, s-Jazz," I ducked my helm, my faceplates heating up.

"See? 's easy," He lifted my chin to look right into my visor. "Now, ya sure yer alright?" I nodded.

"They did not harm me," I assured him. He ruffled his servo on my helm and released me, turning to head on his way. "Jazz," He stopped, glancing back to look at me. "Thank you… for everything."

He grinned, his visor flashing brightly, and continued on his way.

¿?

AN - So, how'd I do? I'm trying to make this as original as possible in a world full of repetitive, overused ideas and clichés. If you have suggestions for improvement, please let me know as the best way to learn in writing is through feedback, revision, and practice.

Oh, and a word to the eager, my updates will most likely be few and far in between as I sold my soul to school without reducing my work hours. Thank Primus for holidays and union strikes for a little reprieve.

Anyways, until next time. Sagi out.