middaeg | October catch-all [closed]

[ Berserker's own predatory instincts are driving him, though he has to be careful to moderate them -- it would be trivial to kill Everett. Reframing them in a different light helps keep it from escalating: a mating situation. Killing your chosen partner is a bad idea, then. Marking them, however, is perfectly fine (poor Diarmuid is usually on the receiving end of this behavior). He releases the bite to lap up the small droplets of blood that welled up.

He lets Everett hold him in place, though he presses his cock against him, seeking any kind of stimulation he can get. The faun's clothing is a problem...After another, slightly gentler bite to his throat, Berserker murmurs a question. ]

How attached are you to your clothing?

[ Read: "Either you take them off or I'm tearing them off." ]

Bring me to bed and I'll take off everything we need. [Everything but his gloves, meaning.

He does not really want to fuck on hard floor. This is going to be (wonderfully) difficult on him, he doesn't need to make it more so. Also, there's potions for lubricant in there, better to move close to them than need to interrupt when it's inopportune.

He lets his legs and grip slack again, presuming the man will move off him and they can retreat to his room. The door is open, bed visible from the living space. Berserker could pick him up and carry him there if he's moving too slowly for the excited dragon]

[ But he wants it now!! Berserker is more than ready to just fuck him against the floor, the realities of the situation be damned. His (slightly) more rational brain takes over, though, as he just kind of scoops Everett off the floor. It's not a dignified way to carry someone, under one arm like a ball, but it's effective. He sees his destination and if that's what's standing between him and what he wants, he'll go there.

The faun gets tossed onto the bed like a sack of potatoes. He looks at him like a predator staring at its cornered prey. ]

Hurry up, then...

[Oop, whelp, here he is getting manhandled! It's a fine enough evening for it, he's not going to lie. When he lands on the bed, Everett gets the first good look at Berserker in full, naked form. This time, he's not looking away, allowing the flustered reaction to fall over his expression without shying or covered it up. He suspects Berserker will like to see it on him, embarrassing though it may be]

Yes. [a simple answer, Everett obliging. His tunic is easy to pull up and over his head, revealing the toned build of his chest and arms. Gloves remain, but his pants are next, swept off him in a smooth motion, both articles cast aside carelessly. Everett's a man proud of his body and confident in his looks, so there's no attempts to hide a bit of himself. He's erect, length well suited to his height, but nothing compared to what the dragon had manifested.

It's a deliberate thing, the drag of his tongue over his lips, Everett very much means to make a show over that little gesture]

[ Berserker is used to fear reactions to his size and aura. What he's not used to, however, is caring about those reactions. Normally, it gets very little response from him -- he's used to people begging for mercy from him and there was no place for mercy in his world. This is different, though. This sort of flustered reaction plays into his newfound predatory instincts, whether he realizes it or not.

As Everett strips, Berserker becomes less composed...not that he had much composure in the first place. The fact he leaves his gloves on goes without comment -- it's odd, certainly, but his mind is elsewhere. Such trivial details are none of his concern right now. He crawls onto the bed, nudging the faun down onto the mattress. He's so used to being passive in these matters that it's a little odd to assert dominance.

He'll get used to it. ]

Much better...Now where were we?

[The nudge back into the mattress is a change from being thrown, but Everett appreciates it. He steadies his eager nerves some, settling into a soft smile, a bit coy and knowing. Rather than reach upward over Berserker's shoulder's again, he reaches down. Both gloved hands cup and caress the dragon's cock, wanting to feel it for himself. Hard and heavy, he notes, rubbing the length with the flats of both hands, fingers extended.]

I believe... I was capturing your attention. With my clever hands.

[ Straight to the point. Berserker can appreciate that. His muscles tense at the sudden touch, hips rolling forward in turn. His cock throbs in response to the attention, a small dribble of pre-come already drooling from the tip. The feeling of Everett's gloved hand along him is unusual, certainly, but not necessarily unpleasant. He keeps his hands to himself for now, content to let the faun explore his length as he pleases. ]

That you were...

Very good, Berserker, you react so well... [Everett may be the vulnerable one, the prey, but he isn't some submissive thing. He coos and praises with an assured mentor's tone. His hands grip and stroke the cock between them, one moving lower to cradle and tease the man's balls beneath that.]

I wonder, if you enjoy the talent of my hands so much. How might you enjoy my mouth?

[ He's not normally dominant, this is a bit of a unique situation. Everett not being submissive is a good thing -- Berserker works best when given a bit of guidance or nudging in the right direction. It's hard for him to accept that he wants things for himself, let alone in a context like this; he's still learning.

So the faun's suggestion gets a slight smirk in response as he rests back onto his knees. One hand comes to rest on Everett's head, suddenly grabbing a fistful of his hair. ]

Let's find out.

[heavens, yes, grab his hair- Everett reacts so very contented when he's reach for. He moves forward, shifting onto his hands and knees while Berserker sat. The faun knows well the attractive, lean, and defined swoop of his back is one of his most attractive features, worthy of admiring during this act.

Dipping his head downward, he laps the line of precum that spilled due to his clever hands. He following the line of it upward to the tip and sucks away what can. A satisfied hum, at the taste, Everett having more than a passing fascination with flavor, even squirming some in his heated enjoyment of it.

No hesitation, he's too hungry for more, the moon's lust heightening how much he already wanted to indulge with this intimidating, thrilling man. He takes the dragon's cock into his mouth, slow and steady, not too cautious or too brazen. A benefit of Everett being on the older side, he knows his limitations well.]

[ Berserker is still fairly new to exploring pleasures of the flesh beyond just penetrative sex. The fact that it's more than a simple means to an end, much less something he wants and enjoys, is taking some getting used to. Eager partners certainly helped and Everett fit that bill very well.

Noting that the faun seems to like it, he tightens his grip on his hair. Berserker drinks in the sight of him with his cock in his mouth, appreciating the view in front of him. The way his back curves, his physique, the practiced way he sucks him off...Oh, that's nice. The attentions get a pleased hum in response and it's all he can do to not rock his hips forward to take more. ]

You've done this before...Good.

[Berserker rolls further into his mouth and Everett can't help the moan that escapes him. The man's cock is massive and it's a strain to take him back further, but Everett savors it. The challenge is met, the older man adjusting and sliding his tongue along the underside of Berserker's dick to accommodate. The plated shape is intriguing and Everett is all the happier to explore further with his mouth.

At the comment, he'll be pulling back, so he could sigh pleasantly. Take a moment to collect his breath and very self some,]

I enjoy it... v, very much, [the honestly is a turn on to express, Everett proving as much when he takes Berserker back in, deep as he could, cock sinking into his throat without a gag from the older man. There's a deep, guttural rumble of delight to push himself so far, carefully dragging his head away again and starting a rhythm, bobbing his head slow and deliberate along the dragon's length.

No more breaking away completely/ Everett's gauged how to handle this and he will keep going]

[ He shouldn't be surprised to hear such honesty and yet he is. It's difficult for Berserker to express when he wants and likes in this context; those with enough confidence to do so without being prompted are an oddity to him. Though...he's not about to complain. If this is what Everett's likes, he's more than happy to indulge him.

It's only when he feels his cock slide into the faun's throat that a louder sound escapes him. It's so sudden and unexpected (he's not unaware of his own girth, after all), he can't fight the loud moan. It takes all of his restraint to not hold Everett in place and savor the sensation. Berserker bends over a bit so he can drag his claws along the faun's skin, light at first. He likes to have his hair pulled, maybe he'll like scratching, too.

Exploring his sexuality is quite a bit more fun than he ever thought it would be, that's for certain. ]

[Everett's concrete control over the act escapes him the very moment claws begin to drag down his back. He makes a whimper of a noise, as he needs to more hastily pull Berserker's cock from his throat. It's not out of genuine panic, he merely needs some breathing room to gasp, shoulders and back tensing beneath the touch.

It's clear he likes that, perhaps in a conflicted manner. It takes him a moment to realize why something so simple would rush his heartbeat and it strikes him it's faun instincts flaring. Claws hit some primal part of himself to spike fear and Everett.... Everett loves that feeling. Being afraid is one of his favorite sensations.

He reaches both hands to clutch Berserker thighs, sucking the dragon back in deep as he steadies terrified and thrilled nerves. The muscles of his back are so tense they shake from it, back arching further, jutting his ass outward on thighs that wiggle some with arousal and anticipation for more. A shame his tail hadn't grown it, it would certainly be fluttering cutely if it was]

[ Oh ho, so he does like it. Berserker vaguely remembers him mentioning about thriving on fear, though he has trouble drawing the immediate connection. It's hard for him to think of himself as a predator with others having an instinctual fear of him because they're prey animals. It's not a dynamic he's quite used to -- while he's used to people fearing him as a cold-blooded killer and force of chaos, it's not the same. He claws at him a little bit harder, leaving darker lines; it's bordering on enough force to draw blood but not quite there.

While Everett's mouth is certainly fun, his ass is looking better and better. Come now and wait for his cock to harden up again or take what he wants right now...? Who is he kidding, immediate gratification is better. Berserker's grabs his hair forcefully to pull him back. ]

Stop. I want to fuck you properly...

[The abrupt hair pull swing Everett away from the thick cock, leaving Everett with his mouth agape and separated. His face is thoroughly flush, glasses askew, hair sticking to his skin. He doesn't bother to snap his jaw shut, drool pouring over the corners of his lips, panting open mouthed a moment to hear Berserker's command and then his desire.

There's no hesitation]

Yes. Yes, please, [fuck, wreck him, he's absolutely feeling a wild and feral mess about now. His sense of composure shattered in the wake of giving head and those claws down his back. Feeling the cock in his mouth only made him want it elsewhere, all the more. His eyes glance to the side, to his bed stand]

G, get a lot of lubricant and. And that's all you'll need. I can handle it. [don't waste time, is the implication there. A benefit of age and experiences; Everett knows what he can handle. Some lengthy prep is not required nor wanted, he knows what his body is capable of well enough]

[ He's not about to question it. His rational mind is long gone, the feral instincts heightened by the moons settling in to replace it. He wants to absolutely ruin Everett and fuck him so hard he won't remember his own name. Though he's in a hurry, he does take a moment to drink in the sight of the disheveled faun in front of him, his cock throbbing in turn. More...

Nightstand. Right. He digs out something that can be used as lube and pours it into his hand. The way he slicks up his cock is deliberately slow as he takes a moment to pleasure himself. Considering how ready to go he is, it's tough not to just finish himself off...How pathetic when there's something much better right in front of him.

Instead of asking for Everett to turn around, he manhandles him into the position he wants. Face down, ass up, ~~that's the way we like to fuck~~, Berserker rubs his cock in between his cheeks as a tease. ]

Now take it all.

[ Lowering his hips, he finds the faun's entrance and pushes in as much as he can in a single go. No hesitation, no mercy, just taking what he (and Everett) wants. ]

[The faun is happy to twist and turn in whatever way he's directed. Though, being pushed face down does make him scramble quickly to pull away his glasses and set them to the side. He's not thinking much beyond that, when the wet length of that cock rubs against him. Everett braces himself well, arms grappling down into sheets, legs locking tight, back arched in ready openness.

It serves him well enough, as he's pushed so wide by the dragon's cock. He lets out a groan two parts ecstasy, one part struggle, and one part relief. It feels damn good, to take so much at once, all delicious impulse. There's pain, but it's not too much, just on the edge of of what he can handle, the ideal place to be. He enjoys that fear he'll hit his limit and tip over, into something unpleasant, but knows himself well enough that this isn't too much. He spreads around Berserker, tight while still giving way.

There is a limit he approached, however. He takes about half of the dragon's cock before needing to speak out, clearly give some warning he was hitting a barrier]

H, hold- please. There. Ri, right there- [his shoulders shake, gasping for air, pressing his forehead down into the sheets he was clutching. It's just a moment to collect himself, before he can speak again, coach the man fucking him on how to best do so]

Pull back a, and... then you can move. Slowly- deeper. Deeper each time.

[ The immediate feeling of Everett opening up and his walls surrounding him gets a low, deep groan, the sound resonating in his chest. It's actually kind of impressive, again, how much he can take in one go. His experience definitely shows in ... questionable ways. Though it is a bit irritating to be told what to do, he is obedient and stops when he's told. If Berserker had been less in control of himself, it might have been different and resulted in him acting on a petty whim.

Slowly, he pulls back inch by inch until he's almost entirely out. He sits with just the head of his dick inside of the faun for a moment, then slides back in. A little deepr, but it's still not enough. There's already frustration building inside of Berserker as he repeats the process with a little less patience. The urgency builds until his thrusts become as impatient as he is, finally pressing all the way into the hilt. There his sits for a moment, giving Everett a moment to breathe. ]

Ready?

[Extremely questionable, given Everett's sometimes prudish reactions. He's glad it's not commented on, not just yet, adding some sense of embarrassment to this situation would likely not even read. He's too caught up in everything else. There's relief as Berserker takes his directions and follows, Everett muttering with what little breath he had to spare good, good.

When Berserker finally gets entirely inside him, bottoming out against his ass, Everett doesn't have those words. He whimpers, hands twitching in the bundled sheets before loosening. The older man lifts himself onto his arms, reaching forward. His fingers slot into his head board, glad it's a sturdy one. Something for leverage, something to hold himself against for the moment. Panting, he finally gets the strength to look over one shoulder.

Despite everything, he finds some composure. Leveling his gaze, there's determination and vanity there, presenting himself to be a beautiful mess.]

Yes... lad. [an implicit challenge, a sign he's not out of this game between them just yet. That should be appreciated, sought after, by a man like Berserker, who would get bored if Everett merely took without further effort. Not that this wasn't very difficult already, in all the best ways.]

[ While he appreciates the beautiful mess presented to him (in some ways, it reminded him of Diarmuid), Everett's choice of words annoys him. Lad...Really? That's what he decided to call him? Berserker narrows his eyes as he pulls back, gripping his hip tightly with one hand. He pushes back in, barely giving him a moment to think as he starts to fuck him in earnest, rough and deep but not necessarily fast. Claws get raked down his back, harder than before, wanting to draw blood now. It's an attempt to overwhelm his senses without actually touching his cock. ]

[The scratching returns and Everett loses that flash of composure. Berserker's claws are free to rake long, dark red marks across his back, though he would draw a line of protest if they dug deep. A prickle of blood- ah, that's fine, though. He can allow that, enjoy that, so long as he's not being scarred up. He's a bit too vain to allow that, though his back isn't exactly... pristine. Twenty years of traveling Myddvai's lands, of casual affairs with all manner of beings, well.. he has plenty of marks upon more intimate inspection. These will just be the most recent.

It spikes that fear drive again, but this time, it's all the quicker funneled into raw lust. He gasps, head slumping downward, though his arms on the headboard are strongly held, as is the swoop of his back. No giving in, not just yet.

He whimpers needily, eagerly, and the hips in Berserker's other hand roll backward, not meeting the slow pace but escalating it. Quicker, he wants, he's desperate for, bouncing his ass against the massive cock inside him.]

[ He has no interest in scarring those he fucks -- marking them temporarily is more satisfying. A permanent mark means he has no reason to leave more if there's a next time and that's no fun. It's easy for him to walk the fine line between too much and too little pressure, little beads of blood welling up in the wake of his claws. There's no need to do anymore damage than he already has, so he presses his palm into the scratches. A little more pain to heighten the fear response.

Berserker denies Everett's want for a faster pace, digging his claws into his hips to stop him. It's rare he wants to take control so like hell he's going to ignore this urge. ]

You'll take what I give you and be grateful for it.

[ His grip loosens and he resumes the same slow rhythm as before, making sure Everett feels each plate and stud on his cock with every thrust. Methodical, calculating, and a little bit cruel. ]

[The marks being left, the prickle of wet, the pressing into those breaks and massaging down into them- it does everything Berserker intends. Everett gasps, moans in a deep and dark manner, enjoying something he feels he shouldn't. His body and instincts tell him it's painful and fearful.

Yet, he's enraptured with it, that terror. It's so exciting, a thrill seeker like Everett couldn't be more satisfied, more indulged by this.

And yet... contradictory to that... He only moans out deeper when denied the control of his own motion. All he can do is wiggle needily in Berserker's grasp. Be told he'll be fucked in the way Berserker wishes and he'll like it. It's easy to like that, simple and gratifying to be told and to accept it. Each thrust makes him moan long and throughout the action, chanting on thoughtless repeat]

Yes- Yes, yes... yes- I am- I'm grateful- [ah- he can't hold himself back- Not from words and not much longer from orgasm-] a, and close..!

[ How beautifully ruined and completely undone Everett looks and acts is enough for him to grant some mercy. The mindless chanting is the icing on the cake...Ah, this is actually enjoyable when you let it be, isn't it? A thought for later. For now, he picks up the pace, fast and hard; it's like he wants to make it tough for the faun to walk the next day. The dragon's quite close himself, but this is a challenge and he will not lose (despite that not being a part of the original challenge...) ]

Come for me.

[ He manages to say despite the fact he's quickly losing his composure. His rhythm is losing its steady beat as his hips start to slam against Everett's ass much more sporadically. ]

October catch-all [closed]

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