Sei8008
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Summary
Dunk had continued up the King’s road alone, no plans really, only to see where it took him, when he’d felt it.
A swirl of heat low down in his belly, a warmth that refused to dissipate and only grew, raking along his limbs and making his hands shake, sweat breaking out along his back. His eyesight sharpened, eyes watering even in the dull light. So did his sense of smell, the tang of pine and freshly ploughed soil blowing off the fields and settling in his lungs. He was coming into rut. Bollucks.
In which Dunk comes into rut unexpectedly and seeks refuge at Storm's End.
Series
- Part 1 of Rutting
Bookmarked by Sei8008
21 Mar 2026
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Summary
"One night," he murmurs, drawing fingers down to trace the sweat along the top of Duncan's lip. Eager to taste it, but he can be restrained. "Give me one night, Ser Duncan, to show you what you will have if you are mine. And then you can decide whether it is truly something you can deny."
"One night," Duncan says against his fingers. "Alright. One night, ser."
Or, Lyonel attempts to convince Duncan that he's the only Alpha he'll ever need
Bookmarked by Sei8008
21 Mar 2026
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Exfiltration at 0600 Hours. by total_killer_brainrot
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
28 Jul 2025
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Summary
Through half awareness you felt the bed dip behind you as Konig joined you on the dusty old mattress. Full kit now removed, but mask still on. A soft mutter of something in German that didn’t even register before you were fully out cold.
König lay back on the pillows and turned to you, watching your body shift with each breath. Your back was turned to him, but that didn’t deter him from looking. Raking down your body and delighting in the small sliver of skin exposed from your rucked up shirt. Just a glimpse of soft flesh that had him grinning under the hood.
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How can poor König resist with such a delicious little thing sharing his bed. He doesn't even mind sharing you with his Lieutenant.
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Summary
Derek’s eyes narrow and Stiles knows he’s fucked up royally, because between one heartbeat and the next, Derek’s pinning him down with one hairy, strong arm.
He practically crawls his way up Stiles’ body, as Stiles scrambles back on the couch to get further away from him, still raising the bowl of candy above his head.
Derek, with a huff of victory finally gets level with Stiles’ face. He reaches up for the bowl again but where Derek’s strong, Stiles is gangly, and it’s still just out of Derek’s reach.
Stiles shoves Derek’s elbow out from under him and he collapses down on top of Stiles with a surprised oomph.
“Can’t get me Derek, I’m the whacky, inflatable arm waving-man,” Stiles laughs delightedly, right in Derek’s face.
Derek’s really close face. His incredibly handsome, stubbly face, a face that is inches away from his own face.
Fuck balls.
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Summary
There’s a tall figure standing just inside the doorway, covered head to toe in melting snow.
They are layered up so heavily that Derek wants to laugh for a second. Just for a second though, he wouldn’t want to encourage too much frivolity, save anyone not take him seriously enough.
He’s a pillar of the community, he has a reputation to uphold. He settles for one faintly amused raised eyebrow.
Deep, intelligent, golden brown eyes peek out from a tiny gap remaining in the person’s general facial area, from where a bright red scarf is wrapped up so high it’s covering their nose, and a garish yellow Pikachu bobble hat is pulled down right over their eyebrows.
They look completely and utterly ridiculous.
Also, deep, intelligent, golden brown eyes is an absolutely unnecessarily detailed way to describe a stranger’s features. Derek checks himself. He shakes his head. The exhaustion is making him delirious, clearly.