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Dunk knew he was an Omega before he ever presented. He just knew that with his poor luck and decidedly terrible relationship with the gods, that this would be another burden he is doomed to carry. Due to poor conditions in Flee Bottom and the stresses of traveling as a hedge knight’s squire, he didn’t present until he was ten and eight, being hidden away by Ser Arlan until his first heat blew over. He hadn’t had a heat since.
Omegas do not have heats when their bodies are too stressed, fearful, malnourished, etc. With the death of Ser Arlan, the tournament, the trial of seven, and the demise of Prince Baelor, it is no wonder the Dunk hadn’t had a heat since he first presented. But now, as he paces around the large chambers he shares with his now husband, Ser Lyonel Baratheon, pushing blankets and clothes around on their bed, he should have expected that his heat was coming. He was so busy with learning his new roles and duties as Lyonel’s husband that he barely noticed the signs until he was already sniffing around Lyonel’s wardrobe, gathering the clothes that smelled the most like his mate. The smell of rain on stone and the electric tang of electricity fills his senses as he shoves a recently worn shirt up to his nose, inhaling like it’s the last thing he’ll breathe.
He should have known that when he “borrowed” blankets and pillows from many rooms throughout the castle that he was nesting. But as Dunk drags all of the soft and safe smelling things into the bed he shares with his husband, his mate, he has a hard time thinking past the fog building behind his eyes and the heat burning in his blood. By the time his nest is presentable, Dunk is sweating like he had trained in the yard all day. His skin felt tight, the burning fever making everything itch. He strips himself of his clothes, not having changed out of his bedclothes since waking with the desperate need to nest.
Lyonel was not there when he woke, needed elsewhere to perform his lordly duties. Even knowing logically that Lyonel would never leave him, that his mate had important things to do, it didn’t keep Dunk's heart from whining in disappointment and loneliness. He hadn’t eaten, but the fire in his blood prevented any thoughts outside of laying in his bed and rubbing against the soft blankets he procured.
Naked, Dunk crawls into his nest, skin burning and flush, sweat dripping down his brow. He tries to bury himself in the soft feelings against his skin, dragging a piece of Lyonel’s clothing to his face to smell and nuzzle. The smell of lightning calms his body some, but not enough to prevent him from writhing in discomfort, large body curled up around the smell of his mate.
“Beloved, are you in here?” The sound of Lyonel’s voice alone nearly makes Dunk whine loudly, pushing his face into the bed and moaning in agony. How dare his mate so callously call him beloved while he aches for the touch of his skin.
Dunk, senses heightened to everything in the room, hears the gasp that follows Lyonel taking a deep breath. Dunk knows without even scenting the air that it’s filled with the earthy sweet smell of him. Dunk whines pushing himself up on his arms to look over the edge of his nest at the seemingly dumbstruck Lyonel.
Even from this distance, Dunk can see Lyonel’s eyes are blown, staring at his mate in the beginnings of heat. He closes his eyes, trying to calm himself, before turning and exiting the door.
This nearly sends Dunk into a panic, the prickling of tears behind his eyes threatening to come. His heart is heavy, a deep ache in his chest. How could his mate leave him? Is he not worthy? Did he do something wrong?
The sound of voices just outside the door distracts him. Lyonel is heard, speaking quickly before being answered by another. It is then that Lyonel returns, closing the door quickly behind him, eyes burning as they stare at Dunk. He must notice the wetness of Dunk’s eyes, for his expression softens and a cooing sound leaves his throat.
“I’m here, my dear. Don’t worry,” Lyonel soothes, voice soft as he walks closer to the bed. He strips himself of his clothes, each dropping at his feet haphazardly as his eyes never leave his husband. “I had to make preparations before we got too far. I’m sorry I left.”
Lyonel leans over the bed, pressing his forehead against his beloved. Dunk sighs in relief at the feeling of his mate’s skin, Lyonel like a balm on his feverish body. Dunk tilts his head, leaning forward to capture his mate’s lips with his. What was chaste quickly devolves into a deep, messy dance, Lyonel pushing Dunk onto his back and climbing on top of him.
Dunk tends to forget his size when he is with Lyonel, considering that the Stormlord’s personality alone is big enough to fill any room. But as Lyonel lays atop him, skin touching from head to toe, Dunk remembers just how large he is. He is too big for every inch of skin to be touched, and he can’t help but whine in disappointment.
“Quiet now, sweetling. I’ve got you.” Lyonel’s voice sends a throb of pleasure down his spine, the sudden feeling of his cunt gushing slick centering his focus on the feeling of Lyonel grinding against his groin. Oh how he wishes Lyonel would just stick his cock in, fuck him full. But it seems his mate had other ideas.
Lips leaving Dunk’s, they trail down his body, tongue and teeth leaving marks in his wake. He ends at Dunk's cock, giving the swollen little thing a comforting kiss before continuing downward. His eyes catch Dunk’s, grin mischievous and gaze hungry. He smirks before licking along Dunk’s cunt from taint to cock. That is all it takes for Dunk to throw his head back, moaning loudly into the air. Lyonel’s tongue swipes across the slit several more times before he presses in, his tongue bullying its way into Dunk’s wet hole. His nose rubs firmly against Dunk’s clit as he dives into Dunk's warm, wet heat. Dunk howls at the pleasure, already feeling his first orgasm of many buildings rapidly in his gut.
The sound of Lyonel slurping and licking at Dunk’s cunt is obscene, but it only works to increase the haze behind Dunk’s eyes. The pleasure nearly has him sobbing, big, strong thighs pressing against the sides of Lynonel’s head. He can both hear and feel Lyonel’s groan at the feeling, spurred on to push even deeper into Dunk’s mound.
A finger pokes gently at Dunk’s hole, pushing besides Lyonel’s tongue to fill the empty space. Dunk can’t stop panting as the digit thrusts in and out of the sopping wetness. It's obscene but it’s so good. One finger quickly becomes two, quickly becomes three. Lyonel licks around his fingers as his hole is stretched to accommodate them. While his fingers thrust into Dunk’s heat, Lyonel’s mouth focuses on Dunk's clit, pulling the little cock into his mouth and sucking hard.
This finally tips Dunk over the edge, thighs clamping down on Lyonel's head as he arches off the bed, every muscle tensing at once in this small relief. After a couple seconds, Dunk relaxes, releasing Lyonel from the cage that is Dunk's tree trunk thighs. Remembering himself, Dunk feels a panic settle where some of the heat has subsided.
“I-I’m sorry-” Dunk panics, pushing his legs apart to give Lyonel room to breathe and move.
“Never apologize for the miracle that are these thighs, sweetling,” Lyonel purrs, voice rough and deep as he pushes up to stare down at Dunk. His eyes are blown, gaze predatory as he digs his nails into Dunk’s spread thighs, grinding his cock into the bed. His rut had finally be triggered, the need to fuck Dunk all consuming. Dunk can’t help but whine at the thought, presenting his neck to his husband and spreading his legs wider.
Lyonel shoves his face into Dunk's neck, licking the bonding mark he left on Dunk’s scent glands. The smell is intoxicating. Without any more preamble, Lyonel lines his cock with his mate’s cunt and pushes in. Dunk hisses at the slight burn, but Lyonel’s fingers made any pain quickly turn to pleasure. Lyonel's length slowly presses into Dunk’s heat, the alpha panting above Dunk as he restrains himself. After what feels like hours, Lyonel bottoms out, hips flush with his omega’s.
Dunk can’t help but move his hips, trying to get more of his alpha’s cock into him. Lyonel hisses at the feeling, eyes staring down at Drunk like he wants to eat him alive.
“Be still unless you want me to pound you into the bed,” Lyonel warns, which only provokes Dunk to whine and move more. Lyonel grunts at the feeling, baring his teeth in a malicious smile. “I warned you.”
Lyonel pulls back until only the tip of his cock is nestled in Dunk’s cunt before shoving back in hard. The shove of Lyonel’s cock pushes the air from Dunk’s lungs, a wheezing moan leaving his lips before the action is performed again. Lyonel sets a punishing rhythm, fucking into Dunk like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.
The cock’s blunt head shoves against Dunk's walls, sending tingles of pleasure down his legs and up his spine. The need for Lyonel’s cum is overwhelming. He needs to be full, to be bred.
“Breed me,” Dunk whimpers out, clawing at Lyonel’s back and wrapping his large legs around his thrusting hips. “Breed me, make me yours, fill me.”
“Fuck,” Lyonel growls out, pressing his face harder into Dunk’s neck as his hips stutter slightly. “You want that, sweetling? To be filled with my child? To be swollen with our young?” Dunk moans at the thought, panting as he feels another climax building.
“Yes, yes, yes. Please, please come inside me.” Lyonel growls against Dunk’s neck, teeth latching onto the scar of his bonding mark, pounding into Dunk’s hot cunt. It takes only a handful of more thrusts before his knot is swollen, stretching Dunk’s hole around its girth. Dunk feels Lyonel’s hot cum fill his inside, setting off his own climax. His cunt pulses around his mate’s knot, making Lyonel shiver on top of him as his cock is milked.
Dunk is so full, stretched around a hard cock and filled with his husband’s cum. His head buzzes with pleasure, the omega in him purring in content at a job well done. Lyonel lays atop his chest, nuzzling into the fresh bite he left as he catches his breath.
“By the gods, that was good.” Lyonel sighs in contentment, almost purring as he brushes his hands down Dunk’s chest soothingly. It will take many more minutes for Lyonel’s knot to go down, but Dunk finds he doesn’t mind. He loves feeling his lover in his arms, cradling him in his warmth.
“Very good.” Dunk lays his head back, eyes drooping from exhaustion.
“How many times, do you think, beloved?” Lyonel asks, tracing his finger around one of Dunk’s nipples before giving it a pinch. Dunk flinches as the shock of pleasure it brings.
“What?” Dunk’s head is still cloudy with orgasm and heat.
“For it to take, sweetling. How many times do I need to fill your hungry cunt before you’re pregnant?” Dunk nearly chokes at the crudeness of his husband’s words, face blushing red. Lyonel laughs as he looks down on Dunk’s face, giving the nipple in his fingers another pink. “After all that, you plan to get bashful on me, darling?”
“I just wasn’t expecting…” Dunk’s blush deepens with embarrassment.
“Well expect to be full of my cum before the week is out. Once is most definitely not enough.” Lyonel smiles that manic smile of his and Dunk can’t help but swoon. The words send a throb down to his cunt, making Lyonel hiss in pleasure.
Dunk feels he is going to enjoy this heat.