bakerstreet | In Heat/Rut (not a/b/o)

In Heat/Rut (not a/b/o)

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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[Hmmm. How about Poe's there for military negotiations and his suppressants run out/screw up? Kind of a mix of 9ish and 30?]

[I think that's going to be interesting. Let's do it.]

While Poe wasn't one for political games and the like, his friendship with T'Challa made him an ideal envoy for the Resistance, especially when dealing with military matters. He knew his duty and would do as he was asked, but he didn't have to like it. Sure, he enjoyed the time he spent with the handsome king, but sitting in on meeting after meeting had grown tedious two hours earlier.

He had no idea how T'Challa could stand it.

Sighing softly, he leaned back in his seat and steepled his hands before his face just enough to keep anyone else from noticing the yawn that he couldn't hold back. It was bad enough that he'd woke up with a throbbing headache that he couldn't seem to get rid of. Now, his muscles ached with odd tension and he felt like he was starting to get a bit feverish. If he didn't know that he'd been sure to take his suppressants, he might think that he was coming into his heat.

It couldn't be. He'd made sure to take his medicine and never forgot it. No, it had to be the flu or something else simple. Once the meeting was done, he would just slip off to his room and go to bed early. Some rest would help make sure he was better for the next round of negotiations.

He can still remember back to when he was a young boy and had just joined his father in a meeting very much like this one. While he'd been told to sit quietly and not to disturb his father, the sole purpose was to learn and observe all that would be expected of him as king; how to navigate those murky political waters he's grown to despise so much. And still, no matter how many meetings, T'Challa could hardly stand it at all. And that was just the honest truth.

However, these days, it helped that he was more directly involved and participated more often than not. Still, with how long this particular conglomerate has dragged on, T'Challa felt just as weary as anyone else - except maybe his uncle, who was always starkly aware during these things.

T'Challa was entirely grateful for it.

He was in the middle of disagreeing with his uncle and one of the Resistance's diplomats when he noticed the slouching figure, feverish and nearly clammy skin. Poe, he realized and T'Challa had become distracted, garnering a few odd and inquiring looks. There was nothing he could do from his end of the table and Poe being so far away, so he'd at least wait another moment before acting. Until then, he continued on, as well as observed Poe make no improvement. T'Challa's concerns were only cemented by those neighbored around the pilot.

Not here, he thought prior to swiftly signalling two of his bodyguards to remove Poe from the room, escorting him to the drawing room. T'Challa excused himself. S'Yan, his uncle, would take over and lead the negotiations on T'Challa's behalf. Meanwhile, the young king buttoned a single button on his dress coat, offering one last nod to the rest of the room before making his own exit.

He almost offered up some feeble protest when he was escorted out but in truth, he was glad to be away from everyone else. Once he'd caught the scents around him, he knew full well that he hadn't been wrong. He was in heat or close enough to it that he wouldn't be able to stop it even if he could manage to get to a medical facility for a heavy dose of suppressants.

Huffing under his breath, he pulled his arm away from one of the bodyguards even as he found himself being sat down in a rather plush chair. It was comfortable enough that, after being perched rather uncomfortably for so long, he was happy to sink back into it with a low groan. If it was pleasure at the comfort or dismay at the situation, he gave no clue.

After Poe was escorted out(and T'Challa does wish there had been a more discreet way of doing it, but given the potential risk he could only act quickly), T'Challa wasn't far behind, actually entering the room just as the man was seated on one of the chairs. "Thank you," T'Challa said with a nod to the bodyguards, his gesture to dismiss them and shutting the door back on their way out.

"Of all the days to skip your suppressants, you pick today?" Despite what one might assume, T'Challa's tone and body language was anything but angry or tense and very much the opposite. He knelt down in front of the pilot, head slightly tilted as he observed Poe, his palm gently pressed to Poe's incredibly warm forehead. The innocent gesture soon turned into a caress, his hand pushing backward into Poe's dark locks.

"I should probably thank you." As far as excuses went to leave that meeting, this might have been the best.

"Hell of a way to get out of a meeting."

There was faint humor in Poe's tone, but it was strained. Hell, every line of his body was strained as he did his best to reign in the demands of his body when all his body wanted was someone-

Oh, T'Challa smelled so good. Good enough that Poe couldn't help but moan and the sound was a pitiful one. The hand in his hair was gentle and it made him shiver even though his body felt like it was burning. As much as it frustrated him, he knew he was already too far gone and unless he found a quiet room to lock himself into, he'd likely end up propositioning his handsome companion for more than he might want.

"I did take them this morning. I don't know why this is happening. I haven't been in heat in years."

Not one to judge, T'Challa pretended the moans weren't as bad as they sounded for Poe's sake, though, they were also enticing and there was no denying that. Not to mention the way Poe smelt this close. T'Challa knew it'd only grow in strength the more his heat was allowed to spiral out of control.

"Which only means it'll be worse. Come, I'll find you private room." Because it was pretty much the only option they had; put Poe somewhere alone and lock the door until the heat had finally passed on its own. It's not ideal seeing how rough the experience could be.

Poe was a smaller man than T'Challa, though far from frail, and so the Wakandan King steeled his legs after bending to scoop the pilot up. It was either that or let him walk on his own and probably trip up along the way.

The feel of those strong arms lifting him made him moan again, though for different reasons. Desire surged in his veins as he settled close to T'Challa and he was hard pressed to keep from leaning in and nuzzling at whatever skin he could reach. Hell, he smelled so good Poe could barely keep from wanting to bite though he knew better.

While he always enjoyed his time with the king, he preferred to be a bit more in control of himself when enjoying the company of someone else. This... while the irrepressible burn of lust was heady, he wanted to know that someone wanted him for him and not because of hormones.

... though, hormones certainly had him acting a right fool, didn't they?

Try as he might, he couldn't help but lean in a bit close, groaning under his breath as he brushed his nose just under T'Challa's strong jaw.

"Not too private, I hope."

"Would be for the best, don't you think?"

Or could Poe be suggesting that the king stay by his side and assist him through this heat that had blindsided him? Well. It's not as though he would answer no, and it wouldn't be the heat scent influencing his mind, either. Though, with his heightened sense of smell - thanks to the heart-shaped herb - it might be a cause for concern.

And as Poe tucked himself closer, he didn't make it any easier to fight off every temptation and urge that battled his iron self-control with constant ruthlessness. He might have even hummed despite himself, his hold on Poe tightening just a fraction, too.

"Almost there," he informed, his voice low and notably rough if only slightly so. No doubt the pilot's heat was beginning to affect T'Challa as well.

Even as his personal guards, the Dora Milaje followed them, T'Challa felt himself becoming oddly protective over his friend, more so than usual. He breathed deeply to clear his mind, and couple moments later they had reached one of the spare guest rooms.

T'Challa was right. It would be for the best if he was left alone. It would make for a miserable couple of days and he'd likely end up dehydrated and sick, but he'd been unlucky enough to fall ill when none of them could afford free time. Their tedious meetings could have a major impact on both their people and deep down, Poe couldn't help but feel a flicker of shame that he'd somehow managed to screw it up, even if he knew no one else would fault him.

Groaning out what had to be agreement, Poe let his lips glide along T'Challa's neck, pausing only to nip at the edge of his collar in silent protest of the offending garment. If he noticed that they'd finally reached a room, he gave no hint. Not when his own will was rapidly losing hold over his fevered mind.

And no one would blame Poe for it. He couldn't help that his suppressants stopped working at the most inopportune moment. The meetings would be able to resume without them for now, however, sooner than later, T'Challa at the very least would have to make his way back. That is if he could bring himself to walk away from Poe.

T'Challa couldn't stifle his own groan fast enough at the touch of Poe's lips. He was doing his best, the best that he could not to completely tear his companion asunder. He could practically feel ever nerve ending, each one alight with sparks of desire.

After the door was shut and locked and Poe laid down on the bed, T'Challa noticed that he wasn't in a hurry to remove himself from his position leaning over Poe. Instead, he drew a hand down the man's chest. "I have to get back to the meeting." His own little reminder that didn't help in the slightest.

The glide of T'Challa's hand along his chest made Poe arch up, body eager and now, mindless. He knew the king wanted him. He could smell the desire on his skin like the most expensive of colognes and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face against that taut, beautiful neck and soak it all in. At the mention of his companion leaving, however, a hand reached up to curl tight around his tie and a low growl rolled through Poe's chest as he tried to pull him as close as he could manage.

Normally, he'd be glib in his attempt at seduction but that side of Poe was gone, lost to the fever that came when heat was denied for too long. No, this Poe wanted nothing more than to be taken and used and while he wasn't at the point of begging, it wouldn't be long before even that bit of pride would fade.

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In Heat/Rut (not a/b/o)

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