Warframe - [The Hunters and the Prime(s)] - Stalker's gilded prince
PART OF THE SERIES: The Hunter and the Prime(s)
Contents | Non-canon biology, Intimate partners, tentacle mouth, oral, vaginal, passionate
Length | 3,723w
Echoes carry through the empty Orokin halls; the trickle of choked fountains, the ambient hum of concealed electricity, the crass grind of metal grinding against metal. The dusted floors barely manage to carry the reflections of the blurs moving above them, the two bodies leave small trails on the floor in their wake. Sterile waters can only carry a glimpse of the two moving shapes caught in a fight – one bright with cream and gold, the other rich in reds and blacks.
Their weapons, old and sturdy, are caked with dried blood – neither their own.
There’s an exchange of blows; a downward swing, a side swipe, pirouettes into upward strikes. The rich colored frame is on the offensive, switching out his strikes effortlessly from one side to another. Cream and gold blocks the oncoming blows with an aged and gilded bo; the rod scarred with deep notches by the opposite’s battered skana. Another slash bites against the bo; there’s a short ring on contact – a crack in the skana’s blade pulls on the dense metal – the cream and gold releases the bo.
In a momentary clasp energy forms between the Excalibur Prime’s hands and he pulls out the shape of a blade between them. Two swipes of energy sail towards the rich red and black – whom blocks them with the captive bo and the shielded skana. He holds the skana just behind the bo’s bulk, a plan already formed. The exalted blade fades away from the prime’s hands as he avoids an upward swing by the bo, turning out of the way, stepping away from a second swing. The skana moves in at that moment, biting against the prime’s hard exterior. There’s a pause.
“Got you,” Stalker pads the flat of the sword against the prime’s back a second time. The bo drops from his other hand as the prime grabs his limb, the bo shortly followed by the skana as the Excalibur Prime pins him up against a wall, hands on Stalker’s wrists.
“No, got you,” the prime snorts. “You did well today.”
“I could’ve done better,” Stalker coils a leg between the prime’s and pulls back on one – the prime pulls him down as he falls, the two landing in a pile. “Like that,” he wrestles to get a hold of the prime’s wrists, pressing to cross them.
“Like that, yeah,” the prime contends against the grasping hands. He catches them in his own, crossing the captive wrists against Stalker's chest and rolling them in a single motion. He smiles down at stalker, "want to have another go?"
Stalker struggles against the pin, but the Excalibur’s vice-grip is hard to break. Eventually, he concedes. “Maybe later,” he sighs. The prime releases his wrists, moving himself back into a kneeling position still partly above his rich red partner. Stalker sits up and withdraws himself from beneath the prime, pressing against the floor as he moves to stand – the prime helps to dust him off.
There’s a flash of red.
A leg coils beside the prime 's right leg - setting him off balance as Stalker pulls the Excalibur's right wrist over his shoulder, forcing him back towards the wall. For a moment the prime seems to have caught his footing before tripping over Stalker's leg. The flurry of motion soon settles – the prime’s back is again at the wall. “I said maybe later,” Stalker holds the prime’s wrists over his head; the prime doesn’t struggle against them.
“Well, you got me,” the prime releases a held sigh, “I didn’t see that coming.”
Stalker doesn’t move. “But is it enough for a reward?”
“Well,” the Prime wiggles his hands free from Stalker, landing them on his partner’s hips. “It’s well deserved at this point.” He nuzzles his helm against Stalker’s own, whom rubs back just as roughly with his own. "It's your choice as to where, you know," he states, patting Stalker's hips.
“Yeah,” the red warframe presses up against the slightly taller cream and gold, “I know.” Bright spots of red line edges along his sides, previously hidden seams along his chest and midsection.
There’s a short pause; the Prime snorts, his maw forming. “Oh,” he scoops his arms around Stalker’s middle, “well if you want it like that –“ he rolls them along the wall to switch their places, pressing Stalker’s back against the wall. His hands trail along the red lines at Stalker’s sides. “- I’ll be happy to oblige.” He burrows his helm into the crook of Stalker’s neck, breathing heat from his open maw against his partner’s throat.
A small quiver rolls through Stalker from the heated breath, he himself moving his hands to rest along the Prime’s back and sides. The Prime is quick to act accordingly, delivering small nips along his partner’s neck with the front of his maw; his fingers moving and teasing at the edges of Stalker’s splitting seams.
A purr resonated through Stalker's chest, a sound felt by the prime's venturing fingers and against his partner's neck. His fingers gently press against the glowing vents, teasing at the sensitive edges as he delivers another succession of love bites along Stalker's skin, the tentacles from his maw crawling against the other’s flesh in gentle wisps. He works slowly, continually teasing at Stalker’s neck as his hands persist, fingering the edges of the opening vents tentatively. Stalker’s hands move forward onto the Prime’s arms, motioning them closer, slightly down. “Too much teasing?” The Prime barely lifts his head.
"Not enough," Stalker purrs, pressing his chest up against the Prime's assaulting mouth and partly at his exploring hands, as they begin to move into Stalker’s splitting vents in search of its hidden erogenous zone. Stalker retains a gentle grip on the Prime’s arms as his partner’s fingers search for the sweet spot buried within. He releases a hum as the first is found, releasing a breath at the second, and his partner kneads at them soon after. “Ah,” Stalker gasps, his grip held fast to his partner’s exploring arms.
The Prime moves a leg to rest between Stalker’s own, gently nudging in seek of permission. Stalker obliges, letting the Prime’s leg wiggle in between his own as his partner continues to work at his neck and vents. Soft petting into one eventual ceases, the hand leaving the warmth of Stalker’s vent before it continues downward, trailing along his center and down to the lowest point between his legs – at his slit. Stalker purrs, the Prime smiles against his skin. “I wasn’t going to be that rude.”
“I never know what to expect from you, honestly,” Stalker presses up against the prime’s hand as it cups his closed slit and groin.
“That hurts,” the Prime frowns as he buries his head into the crook of Stalker’s neck again, breathing heat against it once more. His lower hand traces along the crease of Stalker’s slit; his other still buried in Stalker’s vent continues to tease.
If he had a maw Stalker would be smiling. "I know," he breathes, leaning his head back against the wall, focusing on his partner's movements. The grazing of sharp teeth, a hand massaging in vent, the second gently rubbing at his slit. He releases a soft sigh, rubbing himself up against the hand between his thighs.
"Can I come in?" The prime snorts, stilling his hand for a moment.
"Work for it first, then maybe I'll consider," Stalker sneers.
“Okay,” the Prime chuckles, changing the motion of his hand within Stalker’s vent. The natural lubrication makes it easy for his fingers to change directions, squeezing and patting at the soft spot hidden within. This draws out another sound from Stalker, a purr that reverberates from the Prime to him. “Before we get deep into it; how would you like it?” the prime continues to finger at his partner's slit, sliding a finger against a partly opened junction.
“Oh, deep. Sure,” Stalker blurts out.
The prime stops for a moment, a grin plastered to his maw. “I mean, against the wall? On the ground?” Stalker squirms in place, barely sighing as another part of his slit opens up against his partner’s hand.
“Wherever it takes us, I guess.” Stalker rests his head frontwards and on his partner’s shoulder. Not apparently embarrassed from the outside, but the Prime can tell and nuzzles into his partner’s neck one last time before withdrawing his maw tentacles. The prime rubs two of his fingers against the Stalker’s slit a few times before slowly sliding them in, gently touching the hidden flesh beneath. His partner releases a soft groan, his hands squeezing at the Prime’s arms, pressing himself further against the Prime’s lowered hand. “You better go full out this time,” he withholds a gasp.
“Or what?” the prime chuckles. “Kidding,” he edges out his hand from Stalker’s vent, continuing to pet within Stalker’s slit. “Sorry about last time,” his fingers trace the ridges and soft short tendrils within the Stalker’s slit, searching for something else among them.
“Don’t be,” Stalker purrs, moving his hands back up along the Prime’s war torn back structure. “Things happen sometimes.”
"Doesn't make me feel less guilty," he removes his hand from Stalker's slit, "I'll make it up to you today," and he removes his other hand from Stalker's vent, shifting his grip to rest at the sides of his partner's hips. Stalker's hands follow the prime's next movements, coming to rest on the Prime's shoulders as he moved down to a kneel before him. The prime's hands spread against the outside of Stalker's thighs, "come here," the prime chuckles, nudging Stalker's hips towards him and his grinning maw. Stalker takes a pause before he moves himself a tad closer, his slit nearly all split down the middle. The prime pulls him the rest of the way.
Contact of the prime's oral tentacles with Stalker's flesh is met with a soft grunt, the tentacles pressing and splitting his partner’s slit with their mass as they move. Stalker’s hands move from the prime’s shoulders up to his head, fingers pressing as the tentacle mass moves into a single form that moves up within his opening. His head falls back against the wall as the prime drags another slow and deliberate lick up through his lips, the shape splitting as it nears the top of their slit. Stalker releases a deep shaky breath, fingers pressing at the prime’s helm again before they move.
The prime starts another before one of his hands join in, his thumb presses open a lip and stretching the skin of Stalker's sheath. There the tentacles split into their own strands again, encircling nub tip of Stalker's growing phallus. A guttural moan rolls through Stalker as the tentacles tease, groups dividing between servicing the lips and the growing erection peaking from within its sheath. Over and again the tentacles move, going from tip downwards as the ridged length increases. A mix of sounds crawl from Stalker’s throat as the prime works him, the lower set pressing into Stalker’s opening in a slow circling motion.
One of Stalker’s hands leave the side of the prime’s head, coming to a rest at the side of one of his vents before dipping his fingers in, patting around until a wave of sensation sprouts from within. It’s lost somewhere among the tingling and pulses that crawl up from his groin – but he’ll eventually find it. “Mmh,” crawls through Stalker’s throat, pressing himself up into his partner’s warm mouth.
The prime grins against him, pressing his maw further up against his partner at an angle, his plated teeth pressing against his partner’s external flesh. His teeth lightly graze Stalker’s ridged member, which at first stills him before the tentacles resume their swarm against and within him. Excalibur Prime's hand moves from holding Stalker open downwards, his digits rubbing and fingering past Stalker's lips between low tentacle thrashes. The combination, as well as the continuing encircling of his phallus, yields another sound from Stalker; a moaning breath hushed by his lack of physical maw. “Enjoying yourself?” the prime asks, withdrawing his tentacles from his partner’s insides.
“Oh, yeah,” Stalker breathes, his free hand moving again within the vent at his chest.
“Good, good,” the Prime chuckles, returning his maw to his partner’s groin again.
He resumes the motion of his tentacles, encircling the base of his partner’s member as another set moves in them. “This better not just be it,” Stalker breathes, releasing a moan in the next moment. The prime slides his fingers in to replace the lower set of tentacles, the remaining ones moving up along his partner’s shaft.
“Don’t worry, it’s not,” he snorts, moving to stand with his fingers still inside Stalker. “I assure you,” he presses his body up against Stalker, his free hand reaching around to his back to bring him closer, but not too close as to put pressure on them.
“Then what’s the hold up,” Stalker grunts, freeing his hand in his vent from the pin to rest on his partner’s side. The prime returns his maw to his partner’s neck, Stalker’s left hand pressing his head close.
“Just haven’t worked on mine yet, fussy,” the prime smirks into Stalker’s neck, cupping his hand over his partner’s slit. On the back of his hand he can feel his split slit, his member already beginning to press free.
“I ain’t fussy,” Stalker huffs, releasing a gasp as his partner’s hand moves up in gentle squeezes. His palm cups at the threshold of Stalker’s phallus, moving upwards in successive grips, thumb caressing the ridges along his length.
The prime nuzzles into Stalker’s neck, his unoccupied hand coiling behind his partner’s back. “Whatever you say,” he breathes, walking them back and away from the wall, kicking the abandoned bo away. For the time being he removes his hand from Stalker’s phallus, joining his other as he guides Stalker down to the floor.
“You’re still my fussy,” the prime chuckles, repositioning his hands to Stalker’s hips once his back is laid flat on the floor, himself settled in a crouch between Stalker’s arched legs.
“You’re an asshole,” Stalker grunts, raising his hips against the prime’s body.
Excalibur Prime smiles, nuzzling against Stalker’s neck before he begins to move down, his maw tentacles tracing out along the way. “But I’m your asshole,” he states before a tentacle set delves into one of Stalker’s vents, coiling around until a sound yields from Stalker.
With one hand on the ground, the other at the back of the cream and gold Excalibur's helm, his fingers press, breathing out a moan as the prime delves into another vent. “That you are,” Stalker purrs, watching as his partner trails his way down his own red and black flesh, a hand holding his aching length.
The prime’s grip on his partner’s phallus is only temporary, the hand moving around to the small of Stalker’s back as his maw nears Stalker’s groin. His other hand is buried at his own folds, fingering at the base of his own peaking phallus. Assisted by Stalker’s own arching, the prime holds Stalker’s hips close to his face, his maw tentacles petting and caressing at Stalker’s lips and member. As he works himself the prime releases a heated breath against Stalker’s flesh, pressing his maw further along his partner’s zone.
The prime’s tentacle motions up in vigor, testing out Stalker’s capacity before teasing again at his textured length. The moist, wet movements bring Stalker farther, pressing a hand against the front of his helm, hitching a leg over his partner’s shoulder. His sounds, a mixture of assorted whimpers, whines, and moans, are caught somewhere within his throat; his erratic sounds in time with hip movements against the prime’s open and exploring maw.
“Has it really been that long?” the prime asks against Stalker’s flesh as his tentacles take another dip into Stalker’s entrance again. Below him his fingers coax out his member, petting and fingering himself to an increasing size.
“S-shut up,” Stalker gasps, rolling up into the penetrating, swirling tentacle mass. Another groan is coaxed from him as the prime removes and reinserts the mass, “As-asshole. You’ve better been working yourself this- entire time.” The prime shifts his attention from Stalker’s entrance to his phallus, surrounding the base and all the ridges in their wet embrace; coaxing out another series of sounds.
“Don’t worry,” the prime breaths, releasing the tentacle embrace before moving to tease Stalker’s entrance again - who gasps, a hand gripping onto the prime’s helm. “I have. Just –“ a sharp breath, a squeeze on his own length, “give me a moment.” The hand that held onto Stalker’s back moves up, grasping Stalker’s right arm and removing it from the front of his helm. Another deep exploration brings another sound from Stalker, a low whine and a shift of his hips.
“Fuck,” Stalker breathes, “could you stop teasing already?” The prime’s tentacles trail again along Stalker’s member, squeezing in a pulsating motion. Shortly after, to Stalker’s relief, the prime works his way back up along his partner’s body, delving and delivering small kisses to his vents along the way. As he move he releases Stalker’s arm, where it joins his other behind the Prime’s head and neck. The prime’s left settles back below Stalker’s back, his right still at his own length.
“Sorry I kept you waiting, love,” the prime nuzzles into Stalker’s neck, his tentacles retracted into his maw. His right moves from one length to another, cradling Stalker’s part against his slightly larger own.
“Took long enough,” Stalker teases, adjusting his position and pressing up against his cream and gold partner. “No more teasing,” he huffs, unhooking his hands from the prime’s neck as the prime’s hands moved to his hips. The prime, his prime, moves back into a sitting position, his hands trailing down to Stalker’s thighs as he sat up, Stalker’s bent legs over his own.
As Stalker hoists himself to lean on his elbows he stares down his body; blood red vents open along his chest and stomach, a glowing v shape sat at his groin and his ridged member barely laid against his flesh, his partner’s own laid against his - the gilded cream, gold, and brilliant blue contrasting his own. The textures, he remembers them well, makes him twitch in excitement. The Excalibur Prime – his Excalibur Prime – rubs his length against Stalker’s own, coaxing tingles up through Stalker’s spine and a purr from both of them. A smirk on the prime’s maw, he presses their slits together, his hands moved from thighs to hips once more. His right holds both of their members together.
Stalker barely holds back a whine as the prime’s slit tendrils tease at his own. “I said no teasing,” he bucks against the prime, his slit pressing at the base of his partner’s length.
“Alright. Alright,” the prime purrs, holding the base of his length as Stalker adjusts himself for the coming entry. Hips up, legs spread, Stalker signals he’s ready with a nod. With one hand the prime aims his member for Stalker’s opening, his other holding his partner’s thigh. And when the aim is set slowly, carefully, he sinks himself in, listening to every small sound Stalker makes as he buries himself in.
“Ah,” Stalker whimpers, pressing his stomach up against his descending partner as the prime makes his way down. Stalker forces his groin up against the prime’s, planting his legs in place behind his partner’s to hold himself still. The prime doesn’t move just yet, as he delivers a kiss to Stalker’s neck. For a brief period it’s just the two of them, breathing against each other and feeling every tense twitch inside and out. Stalker lies himself back on the floor, his arms hitching around the prime’s neck; a whimper, “do it,” he breathes.
The prime’s maw twists into a grin, “do what?” He nuzzles into Stalker’s neck as he huffs. “Kidding,” he breathes, his hands grabbing at the flesh of Stalker’s hips as he begins sliding himself out – and back in just as deliberately. The slow thrusts coax a few sounds from Stalker, arching against his partner, shoulders on the floor, letting any sounds slip out. The Prime buries his head into Stalker’s neck as he slowly brings up the pace, his hands pressing hard against Stalker’s skin – his sounds mixing with Stalker’s own.
Stalker’s vice-grip around Excalibur Prime’s neck keeps him in place, not that he cares as it’s exactly where he wants to be. The prime grunts as he pushes himself further up, lifting Stalker’s hips up along the way, holding his right in place over one arm. Deeper the prime’s mass buries into Stalker, nearly filling him entirely – bringing erratic groans and moans from the rich black and red frame. As the prime increases his pounding again Stalker bares his neck, pressing the back of his head on the floor. Excalibur Prime takes advantage of the bare neck, nipping at it between guttural and breathy groans.
“Fuck,” Stalker whimpers, thrusts of his own pressing his length against the prime’s stomach. Adjusting his positioning, the prime moves one of his hands to hold Stalker’s aching member, thumbing at the ridges as he buries himself again and again into his partner, twitching and thrusting, arching against and vocal. The prime readjusts his grip around Stalker’s length, holding his hand over his partner’s ache as he continues to drive himself deeper and upwards – making strokes down Stalker without breaking his own rhythm.
Their peaks come fast, and hard.
Excalibur Prime presses himself as much as he can against Stalker when he feels his peak, embracing his partner from the front and back. His hands pull tightly on Stalker’s back as he nears his finish, met with Stalker’s own embrace by several limbs. Stalker squeezes the prime’s waist with his thighs, his arms pulling on neck and back, finishing in sparse moans opposed to his partner’s deep breaths. Driven by their focused passion; they both finish almost at once.
There is only their breaths as they come down, catching their breath as sensation slowly return to them. “I love you, fussy,” the prime laughs, nuzzling Stalker’s neck and throat.
“Love you too, asshole,” Stalker laughs, his legs still entangled with his partner’s own, nuzzling back.
