Prime/Sunstreaker
Pairing you want: Prime/Sunstreaker
Sin(s): Pride and Lust
Three things you want to see in your fic:Prime is Sunny's creator / Prime's pride in his Sunstreaker bleeds over into lust / R-NC17 rating would be really nice
Three things you don't want to see in your fic: no oc's, no deathfic
Perfect
Author: Tanta Green
Pairing: Optimus Prime/Sunstreaker
Rating/Warnings: R-NC17 Heavy slash and what might be considered incest.
Disclaimer: Obviously, not mine. Optimus and Sunstreaker belong to Hasbro etc.
He was perfect.
So perfect.
How could Prime not fall.
------
Optimus held out a hand to the twin protoforms lying in the stasis pod before him, his face moving into a grin behind his mask as his yellow creation shuffled around so that he could cling to Prime’s hand.
His creations. It hadn’t fully sunk in yet. That these two beautiful little creatures could be something that he himself had brought into this world brought Prime more joy than he had ever thought possible.
The small yellow mech let out a small mewl and rolled back over, curling up against his twin. The protoforms would not be fully grown mechs for another few days; their programming and vocal capacity, not to mention their physical forms, was still far from complete.
Still, Prime already felt so proud of them; his beautiful, perfect little creations.
------
A bright glimmer of sunlight sparkled off the edge of Sunstreaker’s armour as he leapt into battle, ever eager to prove that he was amongst the greatest of the Autobots. His red twin followed not too far behind, making some wisecrack as they went charging into the front lines of the Decepticons.
But they weren’t completely irrational about it. Of course not. The twins knew what fights they could win, and knew when they would end up as a pile of space dust, and chose their battles accordingly. Admittedly, sometimes one of them would bite off more than he could chew, often resulting in the both of them getting a severe lecture from Ratchet, but Prime knew that as a whole, his creations’ actions were quite sensible compared to some of the other Autobots when it came to battle. He didn’t have to spend too much time worrying about them, which was good, because he knew that he worried about the two of them far too much anyway.
The last time Sunstreaker had found himself in the med bay Prime was afraid his worry had been almost a little too obvious. Sideswipe had noticed at least: had noticed that Prime’s attention towards his two creations had been a little uneven of late. Had noticed that even for one of his creations Prime seemed to spend a little too much time staring at the yellow Lamborghini. Sideswipe seemed to have no problem with it though, and had left the med bay as Optimus entered, leaving one last retort to his twin, telling Sunstreaker to stop being such a sparkling about his injuries, which were admittedly quite minor.
Optimus had inspected the wounds thoroughly, hands and eyes roaming over Sunstreaker’s mildly damaged frame, seeking out every dint and scratch on his creations’ body while Ratchet watched on with no small amount of curiosity.
He traced over a particularly large scratch on Sunstreaker’s hood and frowned. He honestly didn’t blame Sunstreaker for being upset. It was only a superficial wound, but damaging such a finely crafted chest plate seemed like a crime.
“You are so beautiful,” Prime sighed. “I’m so proud of you, my brave, beautiful creation.”
“Don’t tell him that,” Ratchet commented, reminding the room’s two other occupants that he was still witnessing the whole scene. “His ego’s big enough already.”
Sunstreaker smiled widely.
“Heh,” Sunstreaker scoffed. “Prime only gives credit where credit is due, right Optimus? I can’t help it if he made me perfect.”
Sunstreaker’s smile quickly turned to a frown as he looked down at what was currently not a very perfect paintjob.
“I don’t feel very beautiful right now though,” Sunstreaker admitted. “Slag it, I’ll offline whoever it was that put that big a scratch on my body.”
Ratchet frowned, and glanced at Optimus, as though asking the leader whether he really approved of one of his creations being this self centred. Optimus however, completely ignored the glare from the medic, and placed a comforting hand on Sunstreaker’s shoulder.
“You’re still beautiful,” Optimus told him.
Sunstreaker’s grin couldn’t have been wider. It was in that moment, when Prime found himself completely mesmerized by how amazingly attractive that smile was, that Optimus realised.
------
When had it changed? Optimus wasn’t sure that he knew, but apparently his feelings towards his creation were no longer the simple pride of creator. He longed to feel Sunstreaker’s body against his own; longed for the clash of yellow against red and blue like nothing he had ever felt before. Longed to caress those strong shoulders, and to trace the outlines of that beautiful face.
What would the yellow Lamborghini do if his creator kissed him? Optimus found himself wondering that far more often than was probably healthy. Would the other mech accept it at all? And if he did, would it only be because Prime was his commander?
The more he thought about it, the more the very idea worried him. It was not healthy to lust after Sunstreaker. No good could possibly come from it.
And yet, every time he saw that beautiful yellow armour glistening in the sunlight, Optimus just wanted to pull Sunstreaker as close to him as possible, and run his hands up and down that beautiful body, caressing every perfect curve that made up the younger bot.
He shouldn’t be thinking these things. He had to forget about Sunstreaker. He had to banish the younger bot from his mind.
------
“What did I do!?” Sunstreaker demanded.
Optimus wasn’t sure whether it was the outburst or the question itself that surprised him more. He stood up from his desk and walked around to face his creation. Sunstreaker was obviously very distressed about something. His hands were clenched into fists, and Optimus could see them shaking.
“What are you...” Optimus trailed off, and simply stared at his creation, who looked lost somewhere between total outrage and utter heartbreak.
“I must have done something wrong!” Sunstreaker screamed, looking far more fragile than Prime ever remembered seeing him before. What had happened to the bot’s usual calm, confident demeanour? When Optimus didn’t reply, still too surprised and unsure as to what exactly had Sunstreaker so upset, the yellow mech continued on his own.
“Because... you keep avoiding me...” Sunstreaker said, dropping to his knees by Optimus’s feet. “And you haven’t told me that I’m beautiful in so long... Please Optimus, just tell me where I went wrong and I’ll make it all better.”
The yellow mech wrapped his arms loosely around Prime’s legs, nuzzling into them as though desperate for any sort of contact with the Autobot commander.
“Please... I just... want to hear you tell me that I’m beautiful again.”
Prime was so shocked by the other mech’s actions and words that for far too long he forgot how to move. Even a clear thought seemed to be too much to ask with all the different thoughts that were currently whirring around in his processor.
Soon, he reached down and began to delicately caress Sunstreaker’s cheek. The younger mech leaned into the caress eagerly, surprising Optimus by placing a small kiss on his leader’s palm.
“Oh Sunstreaker,” Prime sighed, tracing the outline of his creation’s lips. “You haven’t done anything wrong at all. It’s just... You’re too perfect.”
Sunstreaker practically jumped at those words, gazing up at Optimus as though he were Primus himself.
“But if you still think that, then why are you avoiding me? Why don’t you ever talk to me anymore?”
He could hear the mixture of disappointment and hope in Sunstreaker’s voice. Oh Primus, had he really been that obvious?
“I want to do things to you,” Prime confessed, caressing Sunstreaker’s chin and making the younger mech look up at him; their optics meeting in a clash so strong Prime just knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back if this went on for any longer.
“Things,” Optimus continued, “that a leader and creator should not want to do to one of his soldiers.”
Sunstreaker just stared up at his creator for the longest while, as still as a statue by Optimus Prime’s feet. Optimus waited for some sort of reaction; any reaction at all. This not knowing was pure torture. Then, very slowly, and with as much grace as Sunstreaker had ever displayed, he stood up from his position at Prime’s feet. Optimus first thought that it was to leave, but as Sunstreaker’s chest plate brushed against his own and the twin’s arms moved to wrap around his commander’s shoulders, Optimus knew that whatever this was, it certainly wasn’t rejection.
Sunstreaker stood on the tips of his feet, arching up to move his mouth as close to Prime’s audio receptor as possible.
“Please,” Sunstreaker whispered. “I want you to do those things as well.”
Prime couldn’t help but let out a moan at Sunstreaker’s words. He had already been so close to losing control; he needed no further prompting from the yellow mech. He scooped Sunstreaker up in his arms and pulled him close. His face mask slid back, revealing the mouth that only a handful of mechs had ever seen before, and pressed his lips firmly against Sunstreaker’s in a passionate kiss.
Sunstreaker returned the kiss with more enthusiasm then Optimus had ever thought possible, letting Prime’s glossa slip inside his mouth with very little resistance. His hands began to roam over Optimus’s head and shoulders, caressing his commander’s antenna and grinning widely into their kisses as his caresses brought forth a loud moan from the Autobot commander.
Optimus stopped holding everything inside, and let everything he had ever felt, and ever wanted to do to the younger mech flow out. His hands caressed Sunstreaker’s body, one lovingly tracing the forms of his chest plate, the other grabbing at his aft and pulling him closer.
Sunstreaker leaned in to Optimus, his body scraping against that of the commander and pushing Prime back against his desk.
“Oh Sunstreaker,” Prime moaned as he pulled back from the kiss. “You are the most beautiful mech I have ever laid eyes on.”
Sunstreaker moaned at the words that spilled from his beloved leader’s mouth and collapsed against Prime’s chest, placing a flurry of kisses on his chest panels.
“Oh, Sunstreaker yes.”
Prime’s hand tightened around Sunstreaker’s aft, bringing out all sorts of wonderfully tantalising moans from the yellow bot’s vocal processor.
“Primus!” Sunstreaker cursed softly as Optimus slipped a couple of fingers into a seam and began playing with some rather sensitive wiring. “Right... there... oh!”
Prime quickly decided that the moans that were coming out of Sunstreaker’s mouth were his new favourite sound in the universe. A couple more strokes of the wires in his hand had Sunstreaker writhing in his arms.
Sunstreaker’s pleas soon devolved into little more than desperate whimpering, and Prime knew that he couldn’t hold back any more. He reached down to the yellow bot’s plating and gently tugged at the piece of armour that covered Sunstreaker’s interfacing equipment.
Sunstreaker moaned quite loudly as Prime tore it off, and reached out eagerly to Prime’s own, finger’s scrabbling at red and blue armour, desperately trying to remove the armour and get at the wiring beneath.
The plating finally detached with a click, and Sunstreaker whimpered with desire, before ducking down a little to kiss the cable that fell out. Prime growled and moaned as Sunstreaker’s lips made contact with his interfacing cable. Oh, this was more than he had ever imagined as being possible with his Sunstreaker, and still it seemed that the yellow Autobot had more in store.
Sunstreaker grabbed the cable gently, and placed it near his own interfacing port, looking up at Prime as though asking permission to continue.
Prime smiled and moved his own hand to caress Sunstreaker’s cable, bringing it up to a similar position at his own port.
They smiled at one another, before making the connection at the same time, plunging the other’s cables into their port, the both of them moaning at the top of their voices at the sudden rush of pleasure caused by the double link.
One of Sunstreaker’s legs moved to hook around Optimus’s hip. His arms wrapped even tighter around Prime’s shoulders. His whole body seemed to be moving so that it would be as close to his commander as possible. Their legs and chest plates ground against each other, their frames shaking as the pleasure began to be too much for either of them to handle.
Optimus found himself absolutely mesmerized by the look on Sunstreaker’s face and by the small, high pitched moans and whimpers that kept pouring out of the younger mech’s vocal processor. He found himself torn between kissing Sunstreaker’s beautiful lips and smothering the noises, and simply sitting back and enjoying the symphony that Sunstreaker was creating.
The pleasure began to build more and more, the pace grew more frantic, and Sunstreaker’s cries more desperate. Optimus couldn’t handle it anymore. He leaned down, capturing Sunstreaker’s lips in a fierce kiss, sending the yellow mech into overload.
Sunstreaker threw his head back, breaking the kiss and screaming so loud that Optimus knew there would be complaints, or at least questions, later on. Sunstreaker’s overload flowed through his commander’s circuitry, forcing Optimus over the edge as well.
They clung to each other in the aftermath. Prime realised with fond surprise that Sunstreaker’s legs had completely left the ground, and were now wrapped around the larger’s mech’s hips quite securely. He could feel Sunstreaker’s engine purring against his own, letting him know that the other mech had enjoyed the interfacing session as much as he had.
Optimus disconnected their cables, and placed the protective armour back over their exposed parts, quite content to let Sunstreaker curl up against him and simply absorb all of the bliss that he possibly could.
Sunstreaker nuzzled into Prime’s shoulder, a small, contented grin on his face plates.
Optimus leaned down a little and whispered in Sunstreaker’s audio receptor.
“I love you Sunstreaker, my beautiful creation. You are so perfect.”
Sunstreaker’s grin couldn’t have been wider, and it was then that Optimus knew for sure; he was in love.
Sin(s): Pride and Lust
Three things you want to see in your fic:Prime is Sunny's creator / Prime's pride in his Sunstreaker bleeds over into lust / R-NC17 rating would be really nice
Three things you don't want to see in your fic: no oc's, no deathfic
Perfect
Author: Tanta Green
Pairing: Optimus Prime/Sunstreaker
Rating/Warnings: R-NC17 Heavy slash and what might be considered incest.
Disclaimer: Obviously, not mine. Optimus and Sunstreaker belong to Hasbro etc.
He was perfect.
So perfect.
How could Prime not fall.
------
Optimus held out a hand to the twin protoforms lying in the stasis pod before him, his face moving into a grin behind his mask as his yellow creation shuffled around so that he could cling to Prime’s hand.
His creations. It hadn’t fully sunk in yet. That these two beautiful little creatures could be something that he himself had brought into this world brought Prime more joy than he had ever thought possible.
The small yellow mech let out a small mewl and rolled back over, curling up against his twin. The protoforms would not be fully grown mechs for another few days; their programming and vocal capacity, not to mention their physical forms, was still far from complete.
Still, Prime already felt so proud of them; his beautiful, perfect little creations.
------
A bright glimmer of sunlight sparkled off the edge of Sunstreaker’s armour as he leapt into battle, ever eager to prove that he was amongst the greatest of the Autobots. His red twin followed not too far behind, making some wisecrack as they went charging into the front lines of the Decepticons.
But they weren’t completely irrational about it. Of course not. The twins knew what fights they could win, and knew when they would end up as a pile of space dust, and chose their battles accordingly. Admittedly, sometimes one of them would bite off more than he could chew, often resulting in the both of them getting a severe lecture from Ratchet, but Prime knew that as a whole, his creations’ actions were quite sensible compared to some of the other Autobots when it came to battle. He didn’t have to spend too much time worrying about them, which was good, because he knew that he worried about the two of them far too much anyway.
The last time Sunstreaker had found himself in the med bay Prime was afraid his worry had been almost a little too obvious. Sideswipe had noticed at least: had noticed that Prime’s attention towards his two creations had been a little uneven of late. Had noticed that even for one of his creations Prime seemed to spend a little too much time staring at the yellow Lamborghini. Sideswipe seemed to have no problem with it though, and had left the med bay as Optimus entered, leaving one last retort to his twin, telling Sunstreaker to stop being such a sparkling about his injuries, which were admittedly quite minor.
Optimus had inspected the wounds thoroughly, hands and eyes roaming over Sunstreaker’s mildly damaged frame, seeking out every dint and scratch on his creations’ body while Ratchet watched on with no small amount of curiosity.
He traced over a particularly large scratch on Sunstreaker’s hood and frowned. He honestly didn’t blame Sunstreaker for being upset. It was only a superficial wound, but damaging such a finely crafted chest plate seemed like a crime.
“You are so beautiful,” Prime sighed. “I’m so proud of you, my brave, beautiful creation.”
“Don’t tell him that,” Ratchet commented, reminding the room’s two other occupants that he was still witnessing the whole scene. “His ego’s big enough already.”
Sunstreaker smiled widely.
“Heh,” Sunstreaker scoffed. “Prime only gives credit where credit is due, right Optimus? I can’t help it if he made me perfect.”
Sunstreaker’s smile quickly turned to a frown as he looked down at what was currently not a very perfect paintjob.
“I don’t feel very beautiful right now though,” Sunstreaker admitted. “Slag it, I’ll offline whoever it was that put that big a scratch on my body.”
Ratchet frowned, and glanced at Optimus, as though asking the leader whether he really approved of one of his creations being this self centred. Optimus however, completely ignored the glare from the medic, and placed a comforting hand on Sunstreaker’s shoulder.
“You’re still beautiful,” Optimus told him.
Sunstreaker’s grin couldn’t have been wider. It was in that moment, when Prime found himself completely mesmerized by how amazingly attractive that smile was, that Optimus realised.
------
When had it changed? Optimus wasn’t sure that he knew, but apparently his feelings towards his creation were no longer the simple pride of creator. He longed to feel Sunstreaker’s body against his own; longed for the clash of yellow against red and blue like nothing he had ever felt before. Longed to caress those strong shoulders, and to trace the outlines of that beautiful face.
What would the yellow Lamborghini do if his creator kissed him? Optimus found himself wondering that far more often than was probably healthy. Would the other mech accept it at all? And if he did, would it only be because Prime was his commander?
The more he thought about it, the more the very idea worried him. It was not healthy to lust after Sunstreaker. No good could possibly come from it.
And yet, every time he saw that beautiful yellow armour glistening in the sunlight, Optimus just wanted to pull Sunstreaker as close to him as possible, and run his hands up and down that beautiful body, caressing every perfect curve that made up the younger bot.
He shouldn’t be thinking these things. He had to forget about Sunstreaker. He had to banish the younger bot from his mind.
------
“What did I do!?” Sunstreaker demanded.
Optimus wasn’t sure whether it was the outburst or the question itself that surprised him more. He stood up from his desk and walked around to face his creation. Sunstreaker was obviously very distressed about something. His hands were clenched into fists, and Optimus could see them shaking.
“What are you...” Optimus trailed off, and simply stared at his creation, who looked lost somewhere between total outrage and utter heartbreak.
“I must have done something wrong!” Sunstreaker screamed, looking far more fragile than Prime ever remembered seeing him before. What had happened to the bot’s usual calm, confident demeanour? When Optimus didn’t reply, still too surprised and unsure as to what exactly had Sunstreaker so upset, the yellow mech continued on his own.
“Because... you keep avoiding me...” Sunstreaker said, dropping to his knees by Optimus’s feet. “And you haven’t told me that I’m beautiful in so long... Please Optimus, just tell me where I went wrong and I’ll make it all better.”
The yellow mech wrapped his arms loosely around Prime’s legs, nuzzling into them as though desperate for any sort of contact with the Autobot commander.
“Please... I just... want to hear you tell me that I’m beautiful again.”
Prime was so shocked by the other mech’s actions and words that for far too long he forgot how to move. Even a clear thought seemed to be too much to ask with all the different thoughts that were currently whirring around in his processor.
Soon, he reached down and began to delicately caress Sunstreaker’s cheek. The younger mech leaned into the caress eagerly, surprising Optimus by placing a small kiss on his leader’s palm.
“Oh Sunstreaker,” Prime sighed, tracing the outline of his creation’s lips. “You haven’t done anything wrong at all. It’s just... You’re too perfect.”
Sunstreaker practically jumped at those words, gazing up at Optimus as though he were Primus himself.
“But if you still think that, then why are you avoiding me? Why don’t you ever talk to me anymore?”
He could hear the mixture of disappointment and hope in Sunstreaker’s voice. Oh Primus, had he really been that obvious?
“I want to do things to you,” Prime confessed, caressing Sunstreaker’s chin and making the younger mech look up at him; their optics meeting in a clash so strong Prime just knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back if this went on for any longer.
“Things,” Optimus continued, “that a leader and creator should not want to do to one of his soldiers.”
Sunstreaker just stared up at his creator for the longest while, as still as a statue by Optimus Prime’s feet. Optimus waited for some sort of reaction; any reaction at all. This not knowing was pure torture. Then, very slowly, and with as much grace as Sunstreaker had ever displayed, he stood up from his position at Prime’s feet. Optimus first thought that it was to leave, but as Sunstreaker’s chest plate brushed against his own and the twin’s arms moved to wrap around his commander’s shoulders, Optimus knew that whatever this was, it certainly wasn’t rejection.
Sunstreaker stood on the tips of his feet, arching up to move his mouth as close to Prime’s audio receptor as possible.
“Please,” Sunstreaker whispered. “I want you to do those things as well.”
Prime couldn’t help but let out a moan at Sunstreaker’s words. He had already been so close to losing control; he needed no further prompting from the yellow mech. He scooped Sunstreaker up in his arms and pulled him close. His face mask slid back, revealing the mouth that only a handful of mechs had ever seen before, and pressed his lips firmly against Sunstreaker’s in a passionate kiss.
Sunstreaker returned the kiss with more enthusiasm then Optimus had ever thought possible, letting Prime’s glossa slip inside his mouth with very little resistance. His hands began to roam over Optimus’s head and shoulders, caressing his commander’s antenna and grinning widely into their kisses as his caresses brought forth a loud moan from the Autobot commander.
Optimus stopped holding everything inside, and let everything he had ever felt, and ever wanted to do to the younger mech flow out. His hands caressed Sunstreaker’s body, one lovingly tracing the forms of his chest plate, the other grabbing at his aft and pulling him closer.
Sunstreaker leaned in to Optimus, his body scraping against that of the commander and pushing Prime back against his desk.
“Oh Sunstreaker,” Prime moaned as he pulled back from the kiss. “You are the most beautiful mech I have ever laid eyes on.”
Sunstreaker moaned at the words that spilled from his beloved leader’s mouth and collapsed against Prime’s chest, placing a flurry of kisses on his chest panels.
“Oh, Sunstreaker yes.”
Prime’s hand tightened around Sunstreaker’s aft, bringing out all sorts of wonderfully tantalising moans from the yellow bot’s vocal processor.
“Primus!” Sunstreaker cursed softly as Optimus slipped a couple of fingers into a seam and began playing with some rather sensitive wiring. “Right... there... oh!”
Prime quickly decided that the moans that were coming out of Sunstreaker’s mouth were his new favourite sound in the universe. A couple more strokes of the wires in his hand had Sunstreaker writhing in his arms.
Sunstreaker’s pleas soon devolved into little more than desperate whimpering, and Prime knew that he couldn’t hold back any more. He reached down to the yellow bot’s plating and gently tugged at the piece of armour that covered Sunstreaker’s interfacing equipment.
Sunstreaker moaned quite loudly as Prime tore it off, and reached out eagerly to Prime’s own, finger’s scrabbling at red and blue armour, desperately trying to remove the armour and get at the wiring beneath.
The plating finally detached with a click, and Sunstreaker whimpered with desire, before ducking down a little to kiss the cable that fell out. Prime growled and moaned as Sunstreaker’s lips made contact with his interfacing cable. Oh, this was more than he had ever imagined as being possible with his Sunstreaker, and still it seemed that the yellow Autobot had more in store.
Sunstreaker grabbed the cable gently, and placed it near his own interfacing port, looking up at Prime as though asking permission to continue.
Prime smiled and moved his own hand to caress Sunstreaker’s cable, bringing it up to a similar position at his own port.
They smiled at one another, before making the connection at the same time, plunging the other’s cables into their port, the both of them moaning at the top of their voices at the sudden rush of pleasure caused by the double link.
One of Sunstreaker’s legs moved to hook around Optimus’s hip. His arms wrapped even tighter around Prime’s shoulders. His whole body seemed to be moving so that it would be as close to his commander as possible. Their legs and chest plates ground against each other, their frames shaking as the pleasure began to be too much for either of them to handle.
Optimus found himself absolutely mesmerized by the look on Sunstreaker’s face and by the small, high pitched moans and whimpers that kept pouring out of the younger mech’s vocal processor. He found himself torn between kissing Sunstreaker’s beautiful lips and smothering the noises, and simply sitting back and enjoying the symphony that Sunstreaker was creating.
The pleasure began to build more and more, the pace grew more frantic, and Sunstreaker’s cries more desperate. Optimus couldn’t handle it anymore. He leaned down, capturing Sunstreaker’s lips in a fierce kiss, sending the yellow mech into overload.
Sunstreaker threw his head back, breaking the kiss and screaming so loud that Optimus knew there would be complaints, or at least questions, later on. Sunstreaker’s overload flowed through his commander’s circuitry, forcing Optimus over the edge as well.
They clung to each other in the aftermath. Prime realised with fond surprise that Sunstreaker’s legs had completely left the ground, and were now wrapped around the larger’s mech’s hips quite securely. He could feel Sunstreaker’s engine purring against his own, letting him know that the other mech had enjoyed the interfacing session as much as he had.
Optimus disconnected their cables, and placed the protective armour back over their exposed parts, quite content to let Sunstreaker curl up against him and simply absorb all of the bliss that he possibly could.
Sunstreaker nuzzled into Prime’s shoulder, a small, contented grin on his face plates.
Optimus leaned down a little and whispered in Sunstreaker’s audio receptor.
“I love you Sunstreaker, my beautiful creation. You are so perfect.”
Sunstreaker’s grin couldn’t have been wider, and it was then that Optimus knew for sure; he was in love.