bakerstreet | In Heat/In Rut Meme

In Heat/In Rut Meme

THE IN HEAT/IN RUT AU MEME
not an alpha/beta/omega meme

There's no need for elaborate backstories for this AU. You go into heat, rut, whatever you'd like to call it. You've always done so since you were of age to do so. It's a socially accepted norm, and people have gotten used to the difficulties that come with the mating seasons. Life goes on.

Isn't this alpha/beta/omega, then? No, not at all. In this meme, there are no gender-variant genitalia unless your character comes prepackaged with those. No giant cocks - again, unless your character is already packing - or self-lubricating assholes or anal wombs, and no knotting. Unless that's your thing. There's also no set in stone roles with regards to dominance and submission, and some people do not even feel the inclination towards either. Still, there are a few similarities, mainly being that the pheromones of others can put someone into heat that was not in it before and the bond between mates. In addition, some humans/human-stand-ins have created packlike dynamics in response, but this is not universal.

In this meme, it's just regular old human...oids feeling the urge for sex. And by "urge," we of course mean all-consuming drive. If characters choose to ignore that urge, it will backfire on them. The more they put it off, the more they will lose their control, becoming more irritable and aggressive, and eventually be nothing but a rutting animal until the need to mate is satisfied. Not all heats call for mating, of course, and most people can just relieve themselves, but when you do mate, you feel the urge to stay by their side and essentially "nest." These desires don't always pan out into offspring, and mating isn't forever unless it's mutually decided upon. However, impregnating your mate is said to be one of the most euphoric experiences a person can have, even if some people only mate because they want to utterly possess someone, as mates are bonded for a while.

If there's anything that's to your fancy that's been left out, go ahead and add it in. Play it how you'd like!

HOW TO PLAY

Comment with your character and preferences.

Include what you're interested and not interested in.

Respond to others!

PROMPTS

first heat: Baby's first heat. YOU'RE A TEENAGER/LATE BLOOMER AND WHAT IS THIS?

old hand: You've done this a million times, but it never gets any easier.

happen to be here: You're not picky. You can't afford to be. You'll take anybody who's nearby.

old faithful: You're going to the person you always go to in order to relieve your problem.

worked something out: The two of you aren't involved. You just help each other out.

unexpected: You never expected to rut with this person, but here you are.

forbidden: AKA the obligatory incest or age difference option.

volunteer: You've offered yourself up out of the kindness of your heart.

tribute: This isn't your offer. You're the offer from others, a gift for someone powerful to sate their appetite.

mating: You've decided to go one step further and make your relationship deeper.

nesting: Aaah, (temporary) domestic bliss. And lots of fucking. Lots and lots of fucking. Like, you'll barely be able to stand.

bonding: The bond, which is mildly psychic and intensely physical, makes sex even more intense.

the natural conclusion: Heat calls for pregnancy. Get someone pregnant.

already pregnant: Unfortunately, being knocked up doesn't abate your partner's desires. Or yours.

mates for life: Now you're absolutely certain that you want to be with no one else. Of course, this means you'll be in synch with their heat for the rest of forever.

save you: You've been saved from the advances of an undesired mate by someone who may be much more suited. Show your gratitude?

cockfight: Two people want the same mate. That won't do. There are ways to figure that out, not always involving fists.

increase in dominance: Exactly what it says.

increase in submission: Again, exactly what it says.

unexpected dominance: No one expects you to ever be dominant. Prove them wrong.

protect: You want to protect your mate from others, and that means putting your scent all over them.

set off by someone else: You were doing fine until you got a whiff of someone else's pheromones.

resisting temptation: Your heart belongs to someone. You want to stay out of this "heat" thing. You want to rise above it. Whatever it may be, you just have to not take the bait. Easier said than done.

all worked up: You're beginning to lose control and yourself. Quick, do something before you're jumping anything that moves.

pack: As mentioned prior, some people, especially those far out from civilization proper, have formed packs that hold to the more traditional alpha structure. Of course, these packs come with their own rules when it comes to heat and mating.

suitable partner: The desire for certain mates can come from a subconscious level, and you can find yourself aroused by someone showing how strong they are (they can protect you), how curvaceous they look (that must mean they're fertile), or any other number of traits that can benefit you.

desperation: You'll take anyone! Anything!

final release: You've reached your breaking point and your mindless. At least you'll get relief.

fighter: Part of your process is seeing who's worthy of you by testing their mettle. That, or you want to fight anything.

off your meds: It's fairly rare, but some can get blockers for their heat. What if those blockers run out? Why, it makes your heat ten times worse!

noncon: They don't want this. You don't want to stop this.

dubcon: You say no, but your body says yes and you can't stop loving it.

calm you down: Whether it's to fuck or to fight, you're going mad, and they have to bring you back down to Earth.

territorial: How dare someone look at what belongs to you? You'll have to make things right.

odd man out: For some reason, you don't go into heat. Never have. Being with you is pretty relaxing, and some find it appealing to not have to deal with pheromones that aren't theirs. You do have to learn how to appreciate their problems, though.

WILDCARD

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His fingers spasm against his feverish skin, almost sinking the tips painfully into Rogers before he stops himself in time; it's enough to leave bruises later. The Soldier doesn't notice, other than to keep himself from seriously injuring the one who will fix him - bruises are nothing, not to them, and what's more important is that he's been given permission, orders to touch him, and it's such a relief, the same kind of relief that came with being denied water after so long. A mismatched touch greedily, inexpertly runs down his ribs, his hips, stomach, any amount of skin or dip of muscles he can find. It's desperate, sloppy, sometimes a little too rough as metal scrapes against him suddenly in a pinch of seams as his throat works around a shaking gasp for air as a hot mouth traces a moist path down his throat (it works suddenly, he knows he's vulnerable, he knows you can do a lot of damage with just your teeth because he's tried) and then against his shoulder.

He doesn't know for sure what's better; touching Rogers finally, without him flinching away, the man's touch and lips all over him, or the promise. No one's ever spoken to him like that, but it washes over him, wraps around him, and for a moment he almost believes him, that there's no danger if the Captain is next to him. The asset thinks that, even if the Captain is an (enemy?) (was) a mission objective, he might follow him to the very end if any of it's true.

The Soldier just registers the clasp of a slightly damp sweaty palm cupping him before they're knocked off balance. Normally, it would have sent him in a scramble to right himself, get himself out of such a vulnerable position, but those soft whispers against his lips and the heat blazing through all his nerves are almost as effective as any restraint, because the Soldier doesn't try to take Rogers' head off just then. Instead he curls up against Rogers as he slides a thigh over one of the asset's, nudging his shaft against his. The brush of hot, hard flesh against his sends this shivering, intense thrill through him that steals the air from his lungs. Almost breathless for how badly he needs this touch, how badly he needs Rogers, he squirms into the grip, and then fingers sinking into his biceps, he gives in. There's no real, smooth rhythm any more. It's been long forgotten. What the Captain gets instead is the Soldier clumsily and hurriedly trying to rut against his cock and into his hand with a grunt, trying to get more friction, more pleasure, more, more, more/

It doesn't matter that every touch Bucky offers him is rough or inexpertly done (he was hardly an expert on this anyway) but that Bucky WAS touching him now and every pass of Bucky's hands were leaving trails of burning heat underneath his skin. The unexpected scrapes and pinches from the metal arm at different points only adds to the overall sensations. His own hands were hardly idle; they were running across the chest, pausing for a bit to linger over the nipples before moving to trace the ribs down to the hips.

Steve's mouth works its way down from the throat to the shoulders, then down to the clavicle. There was a metallic tang to the way Bucky's skin tastes and as he sucks and mouths at any sensitive points he could find, he repeats his earlier promises of 'I've got you' against Bucky's skin. He wasn't about to let anyone else close to them at this moment until the heat ran its course; this too was instinct, and instinct will tell him to to strike hard and fast against anyone who would even try. Their combined scents were themselves a warning as well, a signal to the people around them that this was a pair in heat and to interfere at their own risk.

Steve groans loudly as their cocks starts to press and grind together even as he began to jerk them both off. If Bucky was clumsy in his movement in his eagerness and impatience then Steve was not much better, the fingers digging painfully into his biceps hardly registering in Steve's mind in his chase for their pleasure. His hand moved hard and fast, his grip just a tad too tight on the painful side. "Yeah...just like that...you can let go now. Trust me." He was only holding on by the thinnest thread; as soon as Bucky came he'll be following almost immediately. Once was hardly going to be enough to sate them in any case; not with both of them having suppressed their heats for so long.

His nipples have peaked into taut nubs under the lingering pass of each finger, a warm flush spreading down the Soldier's neck as he sucks in a gulp for air; Steve's scent swirls thick and heady like a drug, and his legs fall open for him in reply.

Roger's mouth leaves a hot trail down his throat, down to the his collarbones; it's like he's branding him, and oh that has him arching his neck up into his touch, unconsciously offering, even though there's that instinct at the back of his mind that flinches at the thought of making himself so damn vulnerable. Even though he is stronger than people, even he won't survive if someone where to tear his throat out. But Rogers doesn't do that, he's painting a path everywhere he can with lips and tongue and sucking; there's no stopping the desperate whine wheezing up his throat, no more than he can stop the way his cock drools precum into Steve's hand and onto his cock as he bucks up hard. The asset is so distracted with the fire coursing through every vein and nerve that it takes him a moment to realize Rogers is murmuring words - promises- along his skin.

I've got you. I've got you

No one has ever reassured him and meant it. The last he can remember is Pierce, and that wasn't like this; something in him knows Rogers means every word. And that maybe it isn't just about keeping a very good weapon at hand and in good working condition, though he thinks he means that to. That if someone were to try and interrupt them, Rogers might tear them apart - or the asset will, because Rogers may just drive them off. No one interferes.

The asset remembers - barely- to let his grip up before he cracks bone, but it's to curl upwards into the grip that's just shy of hurting. It's fast, it's so good, it's dragging these low, feral moans as this pressure builds and builds, Rogers wants him to leg go, the asset should trust him, so he will- he's--

He snaps upwards, teeth bared in a hitched snarl as he starts to spurt into his fingers and along his cock, oh yes, oh thank you, thank you. He's not even done coming before he's surging upwards as much as he can to latch his lips onto the side of Roger's neck, sucking and biting.

If his head wasn't so completely gone with with the heat scent he would have paid far more attention to the dark brown nipples that peaked so attractively with just just a few passes of fingers. He would lavish them with plenty of attention using lips, tongue and teeth. It feels like his head was stuck in a constant fog with the way Bucky's scent clogs his nose and when Bucky's legs spreads open for him he moves into place between them without hesitation.

The first instinct Steve has on seeing the arched necked offered to him was to bite down and suck on it, to leave his mark on Bucky. And he wants to, he wants to so much, he wants to leave tangible visible marks there,even as temporary as the marks will be given Bucky's apparent healing abilities, as proof that that they are both still alive, both still here, despite everything that has happened. He forces it back down however, he does not have permission and it means nothing if he doesn't have permission, instead keeping to light sweeps of tongue and mouth. He meant every word of what he said however, he's got Bucky and will always have Bucky's back, for this and for anything and everything else.

Until the end of the line.

Bucky's whine is met with a low moan of pleasure as Steve's hand continues to move over their cocks, helped along by the precome from both of their cocks. There was no real technique in it, Steve was too far gone into heat for that, not to mention he wasn't the most experienced anyway, simply doing what feels good. When he feels the warm liquid splashing onto his fingers he continues stroke with the same intensity and pace through Bucky's orgasm, chasing desperately after his own pleasure. The feeling of lips latching on the his neck, sucking and biting, marking him, was the last straw and Steve comes with a shout over their stomachs, his vision whiting out for a moment. He collapses and lets go, with only enough presence of mind left to make sure not to drop his entire weight directly on Bucky.

That whine draws out, longer, a little pained from the fact his cock's a little sensitive as Rogers keeps working hand alongside them both, as the man's cock rubs right up along his that has him wanting to flinch back a little and press for more, more, more at the same time. It seems like he's holding his breath, then, waiting for something, as Steve's hand works them both in a frantic slap of skin until with a guttural shout, Rogers comes. The asset's stomach shudders with desire and second-hand relief as thick, warm liquid splatters onto his stomach, mingling with the scattered drops that escaped Steve's grip earlier.

The asset sags against the bed, but Steve's not there, he needs him there and close, skin to skin, so the Soldier reaches up. Metal fingers curling around the small of Steve's back, but that's all they do. He doesn't pull him down hard, instead the cold fingertips flutter against his hot skin as they caress him absently, almost petting him before applying a gradual pressure, trying to urge him down without actually forcing him down hard.

Each part of him seems like it's tingling all over, every single nerve on fire, but maybe, maybe that horrible, deep-rooted itch is gone and maybe he can think again, the asset thinks, throat working as he noses against Rogers' jugular while he trembles from coming against his hand and shaft. He feels better. A little. But there's still that thrum of excitement, worse, need, lying under the surface like the deadly hum of an electrical wire, and that has him wondering if it's over or not.

Face still pressed into his throat, against the teeth marks still red on Steve's skin, the asset squirms under him, cock still lying hard against his stomach, while he laps over the marks with firm, moist slides of his tongue. The words are muffled, slurred a little with coming so hard for the first time in a long time and; "Is it over?"

It wasn't that Steve doesn't want or need to be close, he does, very much. But instinct and need aside, there was a part of him that told him to be 'careful'. It was something he realizes to be pointless right afterwards, because what they've already done since they've shut themselves inside this room is way past the point of 'careful'. Steve shivers at the light, almost ticklish touch and so-cold-compared to their bodies right now-fingers and takes the hint, letting it draw him in close press skin to skin against Bucky. He wonders just how much Bucky can feel with that metal hand of his. Can he feel the heat of their skin right now, overheated as they both are?

He drapes himself over Bucky, tilting his head back for the other man as he rubs his hand, still wet with their combined come in random patterns on Bucky's side and stomach. First release during heat is always one of the most intense, more so for the two of them who hasn't done so for so long. Steve could feel the heat and need rising inside of him again and he shakes as he drops nuzzles and kisses against one shoulder for a moment.

Bucky's question might have been muffled but Steve understood them anyway. "No...this is just the beginning." He groans again, both for the feeling of Bucky's hard cock rubbing against him and at the wet tongue laving over the sensitive red marks at his throat. "What would you like? " He asked breathlessly, unable to keep from rubbing his own unflagging erection against Bucky's thigh. "I could use my mouth...or my hands again. Or...you can fuck me if you like. Or vice versa. Any way you like." He flushed red at his own words, the blush going down his cheeks to his chest.

The air about them feels thick and humid, and stinks already of sex and this feverish need blanketing the room and every inch of their skin, with the only cool touch between them being the unforgiving plates of Bucky's arm and his fingers as they keep up the aimless caresses down the side of Steve's torso, up to dance up the line of his spine and a shoulder blade. He arches up as Steve begins to slide down against him, muscles shivering as Steve's hands stroke new patterns through the mess plastered between their stomachs.

His teeth threaten to come down too tightly when Rogers leans in, nosing at the sweet-dampened skin of his shoulder, but it's the sensation of those kisses being peppered onto him that has his cock giving this sharp throb of arousal that has the asset turning his face and just burying it into the side of Roger's throat, eyes squeezed closed around a moan of dismay while his fingers clamp down bruising hard into Steve's side for a moment. His hips jerk ungracefully up along the other man's. Just the beginning. There can't be more, he can't take more, he thinks. Or maybe he said that last out loud, but he can't be sure. Not with his heart still beating frantically in his head like the pounding of a drum.

The asset doesn't know what he likes, other than Steve rubbing against him, using his hands. He doesn't know how to fuck him, and there's a part of him that balks at letting Steve know he doesn't know how, because if Steve finds out, he will punish him. When he speaks, he sounds a little more like he once used to another life time ago, but it's more irritated and frustration rolled into one. "Mouth, hands, fuck me, I don't care. Just want this over and done with," comes the harsh reply. "Whatever returns me back to combat ready condition quickest."

The feeling of cool metal on his sides and back caused goosebumps wherever it passed over his overheated skin. Steve feels feverish and almost punch-drunk on the scent of sex and their heat at its strongest. He continues to run his hands over Bucky's skin where he could reach, loving the way the play of strong muscles felt underneath his hands as the other man arched into his touch, subconsciously working the drying come into the other man's skin.

Steve felt nauseous at the realization of just how much has been taken away from Bucky. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, and instead of voicing his thoughts, he leand down to brush a light kiss against one cheek. Right now he had to push that aside to consider practicalities instead. Mouth was the easiest but it would be penetration that would really be the fastest way to push through the rest of the heat, as Bucky demanded. (It went against what usually heat entails but this wasn't normal from the beginning.) There wasn't much he wouldn't do for Bucky.

He doesn't want to separate but he forces himself up anyway to rummage at the bedside table. His instincts screamed at him that this was wrong, he needs to stay close to Bucky, to the warmth and heat the other provided. To the one who could match him through this heat. He ignored it and soon he was back and pressed close to Bucky with a tube of lubricant. A regular hotel would keep a Bible there, or a notepad with pen and paper. This specialized hotel instead kept supplies that any in-heat couple would need, no matter the sex. "It's okay...it's okay...I promised I've got you didn't I?" He murmured soothingly, leaning down to nuzzle along the stubbled jawline. "Just a little while longer...I need to prepare first..." His words trailed off as his hands busied themselves with slicking up the fingers of one hand before reaching back and underneath himself, pressing a finger in without much fanfare, hissing at the slight pain that causes from going faster than he should. It's been some time since he's done this and he forces himself to relax, to concentrate on the thin edge of pleasure just from this and not the pain.

He actually starts a little under Steve when he leans down and just...brushes this hint of a kiss on a stubble-roughened cheek with this barely-there-gentleness that the Soldier doesn't know what to do with after the rough, aching grinds from earlier, or the non-sense, clinical touches of his other handlers. The asset stares at him, this look of profound bafflement like he's been confronted with a world without any order in it whatsoever, or if Steve had suddenly grown a second head. He makes no move to mimic the move - deep down, at the back of his mind, he's suddenly aware with this faint, growing flush of shame that maybe this is all that it is. He's only aping what Steve does, and that's all he can do.

An uneasy chill goes down his body, cools the blazing heat welling up bit by bit. The Soldier lies back along the bed to wait, arms lying limply at his side and legs tilted wherever they've fallen and eyes going up to the ceiling, as if trying to retreat back to the distance he was used to falling into whenever he was on the gurney with staff surrounding him. It doesn't quite succeed, not with the desire prickling at him like a thousand little cuts, his cock lying hard against his stomach still like it's going to betray him, and every part of him yearning instead for Rogers. He can't stop himself from tilting his head, eyes flicking down to watch the man, unwilling to let him out of his sight while every inch of him feels like it might vibrate right off him.

His mouth falls open in a harsh sigh of relief he doesn't mean to let out when Rogers joins him, presses a hot line up all along him that the Soldier hesitantly wraps his flesh arm around to keep close. His grip settles, harder, and firmer a second later along the small of his back, as if unwilling to give Rogers up even if guns and shock batons came out. His throat works around a gasp under the nudge of Steve's nose, arching up into the touch as he shoves his head against the pillows, eyes sliding half-closed as he rolls up into him, grinding the length of his cock into the curve of his hip. They narrow, then catch the motion of Steve's hand out of the corner of his eye before it disappears from view. Leaning upwards, he buries his face into the crook of Steve's strong neck, though his eyes are open and trying to sneak a peak at what Steve's doing.

"Prepare what?" The asset asks unevenly, toeing more and more lines, as if to see just how far Rogers' indulgence goes, much less how much he can take.

The look baffled look that Bucky gives him in response to a simple peck on the cheek makes him angry. It was a big hint about just how much they'd taken from Bucky. The files Natasha had given him had been detailed, but it was one thing to read about it and another to see it for himself from Bucky. He'd never hated HYDRA as much as he did at that moment, for taking even that bit of knowledge about one of the most elementary acts of affection between two people. "It's alright." He tries to be reassuring again, wondering if it was helping or if he was confusing Bucky even more.

Steve moves as fast as he could, as eager for the skin to skin contact as Bucky. He presses back against the hard cock rocking into his hip as best as he could, hoping it'll provide some relief while preparations are made. It's not just for Bucky, but for himself as well, because his own body was just as eager as Bucky's to just sate themselves on each other any way possible. However, he knows that one of them have to be patient or this could end up badly for one or both.

"Myself. For...er...fucking." He answers succinctly but his face flushes again at the last word, red from his eyebrows all the way down to his chest. "I don't think you're ready for the other way around." Steve brushes another light kiss over a stubbled cheek, as if thanking Bucky for his patience. No, definitely not ready, no where near ready from what he read of that horrifying blankness in the stare Bucky gave him when he kissed him on the cheek before. Steve hisses again as he added another finger in himself, then a third with more lubrication, going a bit deeper this time and stretching them out, trying to hurry up the process just a bit. Steve tilts his head back and to the side a bit, to allow him access to do whatever he wants. Unknowingly it also served to let Bucky get a better look at what he was doing, though the angle still wasn't quite right.

Finally after a few more what seemed to be agonizing moments, he judged himself loose enough and slid his fingers out of himself with a sigh before reaching for the lubricant for more. "I'm going to slick your cock up now, alright?" It was best to explain everything, step by step; Steve doesn't want any 'surprises'.

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In Heat/In Rut Meme

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