[ Sam accepts the water and the food. And partakes in both - Natasha isn't bossing him around, but he knows how this works. Sometimes alphas need to be listened to. And sometimes it feels oh so food for an omega to do as told. Usually he bucks against that - right now he knows they noth kind of need that.
Or maybe he's just so far gone already that he just wants to submit to someone's every whim. ]
Ain't been in heat in years. Figure the blockers gonna make sure y'all can put distance between yourself and me. Just drop me at a safe house, pick me up in a few days. I'm gonna be a liability on the group otherwise.
[ he says it casually, as if it wouldn't be a big deal. As if he isn't going to suffer without any relief if he goes through this alone. But he would never ask someone to take care of him - and so he pitches what he thinks is a better solution for everyone else.
Even as he leans into Natasha's touch just a little. Even as he has to swallow a desperate whine. ]
[ She listens to his casual dismissal with an expression that only grows with incredulous disbelief the longer he speaks. By the time he finishes, even as he leans into that touch, she’s already sliding that hand up his arm and shoulder and reaching out to cup his face between her hands, turning his face so he focuses on her.
Her expression is firm as she holds his gaze, wanting him to understand she’s not joking in the least in her answer. ]
You have never been, nor will you ever be, a liability to any of us. And if you think for one minute we’re just gonna drop you in a safe house and let you handle this alone… [ There’s the faintest hint of a growl in her voice at the very idea. ] I’m gonna have to start checking you over for a concussion or brain damage.
[ She can feel Steve’s eyes on her, on them, and something about that has her hackles raising, which is uncalled for and unusual in itself, but nothing about any of this is normal. Especially when Sam’s scent is still so tinged by pain and fear. It’s all she can do right now not to climb into his lap so she can wrap herself around him until that scent goes away. ]
You are not going through your first heat in years alone. Hell, we wouldn’t let you go through that alone even if you hadn’t been on suppressants. So what’s it going to be, Sam? Me or Steve?
[ It’s surprisingly harder for her to get that section option out, even though she wants him to have a choice in this. As much of one as he can, with his own physiology working against him right now. She doesn’t want him to feel forced, but enduring a heat alone is torture and she wouldn’t wish that on anyone, but especially not someone so important to her.
She leans forward, resting her forehead against his own, her hands still warm and gentle against his cheeks, holding him close. She inhales, breathes in his scent and it’s… different, somehow. Maybe it’s the lack of suppressants or blockers or something else, but there’s something under the hurt and the fear that teases her senses. Makes her want to explore it, breathe it in until she knows every nuance of it. ]
[ theres a part of Sam that simply registers the comfort and reassurance. That appreciates the choice she let's him have, even though technically it's not much of a choice. And sometimes about the way in which she says "someone is going to fuck you through your heat, you just gotta take your pick of alpha" makes something inside his guts flare.
The quinjet floods with the scents of coconut and cocoa butter, of bergamot and lavender, of wild honey and oranges. Sweet and rich and fresh, a little spicy, a little wild. And Sam's lips part on his inhale, dragging the scent Natasha is pressing onto his skin over his tongue like a man parched.
Steve looks over with some alarm. Calls Natasha's name, concerned, and starts moving over.
And Sam?
Sam whines as the unmistakable scent of omega slick seeps into his own, heat kicking in like full force because his instincts just register that an alpha is taking charge of him, and he wants and wants and wants...
If he's not all there anymore, that's neither here nor there. But he makes a needy sound and leans in, neck bared in offering.
There was an illusion of choice there, for half a second. And now it's just a reality of need, a submission to Natasha. A need to be claimed and had. ]
[ The word is sharp and aimed at Steve, whose steps stutter to an aborted halt behind her at her tone. Smart of him, because if he’d come much closer, they might really have had a problem. Especially with the sound of Sam’s whine in her ears, the scent of him flooding her senses. Her own eyes have flashed dark for a moment and she closes them to focus, but taking a breath isn’t calming anything right now.
So she does what she can, while she still has the focus to do so. He can probably figure most of it out on his own but she doesn’t want any missteps here. Not with Sam already offering her his throat without a word and two very dominant alphas in one enclosed, airborne space. That’s not even touching on the volatility of Wanda being caught in here with them too, after what she’s been through. Natasha doesn’t look away from Sam, however, keeping her hands on him, wanting him to know that sharp tone hadn’t been directed at him. ]
Steve, I’m going to need you to land the plane where we talked about and then you need to get Wanda into one of the safehouses. Take the one closer to the jet. I’ll get Sam off to the one closer to the woods when its safe to move. [ She does risk a glance in his direction then, making sure he understood. Something silent passes between them before her lips quirk wryly. ] Try not to crash us into the ocean, would you? I don’t think I’ll look nearly as good at 90 as you do.
[ She’s already turned her attention back to Sam and misses Steve’s response, but she’s aware of every step he takes away from them and towards the cockpit and something in her relaxes a little more at the distance now between them.
She nudges Sam slightly to shift positions and then she does what she’d wanted to earlier, slides in to straddle his lap between her knees as she takes a seat there, fitting easily and letting her arms wrap around him. Wrapping him in her scent as she drags him close. One hand slides up to cup at the nape of his neck, drawing him in, letting his face bury against her throat as she tries to let her own scent reassure him. Block out everything else in that moment.
Her lips trail against his own throat, responding to the submission he gave her. Although for the moment, it’s just soft, gentle kisses, soothing him as her fingers stroke against the nape of his neck with the faintest scrape of nails. ]
I’ve got you, Sam. It’s alright now. You’re safe. Take a deep breath for me.
[ She knows his heat is starting, but if she can get him relaxed enough, they might still be able to make it to the safe house before the worst of it sets in. She doesn’t know if tricking his system into slowing down under the wash of her voice and touch and scent will work, but she’s going to try anyway. ]
[ it'seasy to fall into her here, and it has the desired effect. The way Natasha takes charge of him but doesn't actually push on his need. Doesn't stooe the fire, but doesn't try to smother it either. Sam hides his face in her neck, just breathing. His heart beats too fast and hard in his chest, like a cornered animal. The fear is partly because of the situation still being precarious - and partly because it's been a long time since Sam has lost himself to his secondary gender like this. It's terrifying for a man who doesn't let anyone else be in true charge of him anymore, ever.
But Natasha is a solid weight in his lap, gives solid direction. The part of Sam that's still himself is calmed, reassured. The part of Sam that wants to bury himself in her scent, lick it out of her and get himself full and filled with it, is soothed for now.
He mumbles an apology into her neck but doesn't raise his head. Just clings to her and shudders with every motion of the quinjet, with every whiff of scent that confuses his senses. And softly, mumbled against her throat while he's focused on her scent and the feeling of her warmth enveloping him: ]
You don't have to do this. It's not fair to you. You don't have to.
[ She lets her teeth press against the warm flesh of his throat, feeling the rapid pounding of his pulse just under the surface. She doesn’t bite down, merely lets him feel that faint edge. The anticipation of control, to get his attention. ]
You know me better than that. You know I would never do anything I didn’t want to. [ She makes herself pause, though, because that had sounded halfway coherent and she has to make sure before she takes this any further. He’s already been through so much, she doesn’t want this to be one more thing that haunts him. ] Are you okay with this or would you be more comfortable with Steve?
[ She hopes not. His scent is already driving her half mad, but she’d do it, if that put him more at ease, if that’s what he wanted. ]
Let me hear you say what you want, Sam. I need the words. Tell me. [ There’s a command implied in those words, for all that her voice is still soft and hushed against his throat, warm breath whispering against his skin as she murmurs them just under his ear. ]
[ The whimper at the hint of teeth is a desperate, needy one. Sam squirms in his seat, tries to shift closer. He doesn't have the capacity to be embarrassed about how hard and wet he is for her right now. How badly he wants her to throw him to the floor and use him however she sees fit.
Still, he doesn't answer immediately. The pause is calm, not hesitant, while he tries so hard not to seek friction. He knows his answer, but he has capacity enough to breath through the need to immediately reassure her that her wants her, that it's been her for so long, but the timing was never right, or else her desires ran different, and Sam doesn't push for his own desires over others. Has always been happy with a solid friendship and casual flirtations. Isn't the type to stay around only to wait for his chance. Is the type who genuinely cherishes the connection he gets, not the potential of future developments.
That's why he needs her to know that as much as he loves and cherishes Steve as a friend and would feel safe and cared for, when she asked him to choose, the choice makes itself. Even if it's just this. Even if it's just a heat claimed between friends and partners. As long as she's fine with giving this, he can handle receiving it. Even if it's nothing more, hell be grateful that they're friends and can take care of each other like this.
And if she wants no more of him after, it wouldn't change his answer. ]
[ She stills at his words, the soft honestly in them washing through her more potently than even his scent had and she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, something in her aching at those words and something else resonating far deeper than she was ready to look at just yet.
Her fingers stroke against the back of his neck once more and then she is gently tugging his head up. Not away, she still wants him surrounded in the safety of her scent, but considering she’s perched comfortably in his lap, it’s not like he could go far anyway.
She swipes her thumb against one of his cheekbones for a moment, searching his face. But he’s given her his answer and that’s all she needed to hear from him. There’s no hesitation this time when she draws him in and captures his lips with hers in a deep, claiming kiss. ]
[ the response is immediate, the way Sam melts into her kiss. Falls into it oh so sweetly, as if he was made for it. Whines with need, and gives her a whimper that is lost between her soft mouth and his plump lips.
He kisses her like he's starved for it, for her. Trembles for her, unable to stop the soft noises he makes. The way he's oh so responsive and reactive to her every touch, her proximity, her promise of control.
When his eyes flutter open again, his eyes are slivers of omega gold beneath those long, curled lashes.
Samn licks his lips with a soft, pleased noise and nuzzles back close. Makes a needy little sound, for her, just for her. And with a voice cracking on his own rising desperation, he calls her... ]
[ It's beautiful, how he responds to her. One kiss and he all but melts into her. She gives a soft hum, something that almost sounds like a purr in the back of her throat, approval thrumming in the sound. Pushing him back against the back of the bench, she pins him there gently, holding him in place with her own weight. He could easily throw her off, should he need to, but she knows he won't, not with how he trembles and whimpers for her.
One hand trails lightly down his throat, adding only the occasional edge of nails to the otherwise possessive caress. Her palm comes to rest just over his sternum, holding him where she wants him as she kisses his lips, nips at them softly. She watches his face, sees that glint of gold, smiles at the word uttered with just a hint of desperation. ]
I've got you, baby. [ The word is careful, murmured against his lips, her gaze watchful on his face, not wanting to say anything that might have negative connotations for him. They're diving into the deep end from the start and she's going to have to adapt on the fly. ] I'm going to take care of you. Give you everything you crave. And you're gonna be so good for me, aren't you?
[ She knows Sam well enough by now to know he's not exactly a meet type of omega. Had to fight all his life for every step forward. Black in America, and an omega to boot? Sam's clawed his way forwards. Never lost his smile, but absolutely turned it into armor. He doesn't stand for anyone reducing him to secondary gender or getting out unearned pet names.
But that's for strangers and for people who over step. Once he let's someone in, they gain much more leeway. She'd know how he secretly preens under praise. How he is starved for casual affection and friendly sweetness.
So Natasha is on the right track here. Evident in how his Adam's apple bobbin thinly veiled excitement when she runs her hand down his throat. Like he wants her to grab and bite. Like he hears her call home baby and he is so damn gone for it in the best of ways. ]
I can be so good. Please. Let me be good for you....
[ Sam who bucks authority, who will disregard direct orders and gove the finger to anyone who is foolish enough to think they're in charge of him.
Yeah that same Sam thrives when given the opportunity to fall in line like this. When he can be good without having to prove himself so hard.
He looks at Natasha like she's hanging the moon for him. Not all of that is just because of the heat licking at him. ]
[ She smiles, eyes dark and pleased, and lets her lips trail down his jaw in light, nipping kisses. She can feel the way he practically preens beneath the praise, lighting up for her, and she sucks lightly on the skin just under his ear, leaving a faint mark there on his flesh, possessive and pleased. ]
I know you will, sweet boy. [ She knows how much of a gift this is. This trust he's offered her, how much he's willing to be vulnerable with her. It's something she intends to take the utmost care with, make sure he has everything he wants.
She keeps one hand pressed to his chest, just over where she can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his skin flushed almost too-hot beneath her touch. She lifts her head enough to meet his gaze again, sliding a finger from her other hand underneath his chin and guiding him up to look at her, holding him there in place. Giving him commands, guidance, to help keep him anchored until they're both in a safe place to do more. A private place, just for them. ]
You're going to tell me if there's something you don't want, Sam. That's an order. Tell me yellow, or red, depending on how severe it is. We didn't have time to go over your boundaries before this hit, so we'll be making this up as we go, but I want you to be honest with me about it. Can you do that for me?
[ Eager nods in response. But it's also clear that he's not blindly reaction, that he's listening.
And that he is absolutely getting dripping wet when she says "That's an order".
She might be discovering a Thing here.
The flight drags on for ages and Sam loses time eventually, feels like he's drifting in a haze of fever, need and Natasha's scent. Frankly he's unaware of most anything until he hears a door close. Blinks, looks around - realizes he's no longer on the jet, and instead with Natasha in a safe house.
It's uncomfortable almost, how far gone he has been. Comforting that he was safe, though. That they're alone.
And still, he feels... unsettled. So.... ]
Yellow?
[ so it comes out a bit of a whine. Sam is exhausted, looks like he's run a marathon, despite only having walked from the quinjet to the safe house in Natasha's tow.
[ The word has her head coming up sharply as she drops the pair of duffels by the door and she’s crossing to him immediately, hands on his shoulders and then his cheeks as she gets up in his space again, letting him feel the heat of her touch, of her physical presence pressed against his front. ]
I’m right here, Sam. Come here. [ Another order, because he seemed to react better when she phrased it that way, something she’d been quick to pick up on, on the way here.
It had felt like it lasted forever, but Steve had landed them at the small, isolated preserve she’d had ready and waiting for them. There were half a dozen little cabins clustered around the edge of a lake, which was still a step up from a camper with a faulty generator, but it sure wasn’t any five-star hotel. It would do what they needed it to, though, and it was private with a roof over their heads.
And had a bed. Which she was going to make very good use of in very short order, once she got Sam taken care of. ] What do you need most, Sam? What’s the first priority here? Shower, sleep, or dealing with your heat?
[ She can tell he’s already slipping deep in a haze but after all he’s been through, she’s not exactly sure which need is weighing on him heaviest. She wants to see to all of them, but there are clearly priorities that need to be met here. ]
[ she's right about the order. Sam comes to her immediately just as told, doesn't even seem to be aware, doesnt even question it. Just follows like being pulled on a leash.
There's a mental image for Natasha to enjoy. Sam bends into her touch, noses at her neck. The proximity brings with it the scent of other alphas on him like a brand. If she were to get him baked and follow those scents she could get a good idea about how many people touched him recently, and where. It nearly drowns out his own sweetness. ]
Shower, please.
[ And the gentlest touch of his lips in her jawline. Just a small kiss. Sweet, almost shy. Reverent. Like he knows that they're here for her to claim his heat for herself, and yet he still wants to be sweet with her. Like he wants to make sure she feels appreciated, too, thatbshe knows she's not just a ticket to a good knotting for him.
That he adores her so.
A small testament to the fact that she could have had him like this, had she wanted him sooner. And yet he will never begrudge her choices. Is just happy she's here now. Trembling in her arms with desire and heat, but also exuding a quiet contentment with her presence underneath that. ]
[ She’d already done her fair share of cataloguing the scents she could pick up on his skin on the jet. Having been in his lap with him pressed as close as he could get had given her a lot of opportunities to do her own investigation and she’d already committed them to memory in case she encountered them again. Especially on where she’d picked a few of those scents up on him.
But right now, she just skims a comforting caress against his throat as she turns to kiss along his jaw as well, warm and reassuring before she takes him by the hand and leads him towards the only other door in the little one room cabin, the one that leads to the bathroom in the back. It’s nothing extravagant, but it does have the plus of having a large walk-in shower rather than a tub, so the both of them will fit easily.
She starts the water running to let it heat before turning back to him once more. ]
Alright, Sam. Lets get you undressed. I’ll get in to help you wash off, unless you’re not comfortable with that. [ She flicks a glance to his face to check, even as she starts helping him tug his shirt up over his head. ]
[ shell notice the slight flinch when the water starts. Natasha knows prisons. Can probably picture Clint, Scott and Sam naked against a wall, hosed down like cattle. But it's when she reaches for him that Sam is immediately soothed, sighs with content pleasure at her proximity. Reaches for her so easily, goes to her with no hesitation. All the trust in the world. He understands that he's safe with her.
Had she been a day later, he would have gone through his heat on the Raft. He would be like this but in the presence of alpha guards who bruised his face. In a small cell with transparent walls.
As they undress him, more bruises show. She can also see the weight and muscle mass he has lost. It's not horrific - but noticable. He'll have to work hard to get back into the shape he's usually in.
[ She cups a hand against his cheek when he quips that, but while her lips curve faintly, she doesn't play that off, doesn't make light of it. ]
You're still plenty pretty right now. Anything else is temporary and will heal. But they haven't dimmed you at all.
[ And the bruises and the loss of weight and muscle she sees just makes her stabby, if she's honest. ]
Get out of these pants, sweet boy. Next time we do this, we can take our time and play with drawing it out. But right now I want to get you clean and all those scents off you. [ She presses a trail of kisses against his collar bone. ] We can play once I'm the only scent you're wearing on your skin.
[ And she takes a half step back to give him the room to obey, taking advantage of the time to work her own vest and top off, dropping them near the door and leaving her in tight jeans and a black lace bra. ]
[ it's the casual possessiveness of it all. It's the casual promise of a next time.
There's no missing how hard Sam's scent slips into arousal. No missing how his cock is straining and how his thighs are wet with slick when he drops his pants. And Sam should be embarrassed by how needy he is here, but he can't even consider that. It's for her, it's all for her. And why should he be embarrassed about the proof of how much he desires her, how she affects him.
Still... oh she looks so good.
So despite her instructions, Sam move towards her for a moment. Large warm hands on her tiny waist, eyes on that sliver of black fabric. He looks starved. Wants to be inside her as badly as he wants her inside of him.
But for now... ]
Let me play with your breasts. [ it's brash, and his eyes are bright with something playful and needy. ] please?
[ It is brash of him, but honestly, she’s so happy to see that familiar glint of playfulness in his gaze that she doesn’t even mind right now.
His scent is already filling the room just as thickly as the steam from the shower and she takes a deep breath of it, her eyes darkening a shade. Her own scent thickens in response, her want just as potent for him as she steps into that warm grip on her waist. She slides her hands up his arms, smiling at him knowingly, even as she takes a step closer once more and slides teasingly against his front.
She can see - and feel - exactly how much he wants her and it makes this all the more alluring as she angles her hip so she can press in against him, letting him feel the same in kind. She can’t wait to be buried deep inside of him. Have him writhing on her knot. ]
Since you asked so prettily… [ As if she’d deny him anything. ] You can have anything you want right now, Sam.
[ permission is all he needs. Sam moans, shameless and pretty, as he drops his hands to.her ass, squeezing as he picks her up. They have delightful friction against one another as Sam lifts her and pushes her right into the shower, against slick tiles. Gets them both wet, gets his naked cock against her now soaked jeans to rut, shameless and wanton, while he mouthed at the wet lace over her breasts. So eager, so needy. And it's all for her. He pushes, rolls his hips to please her, to give them both friction even as he tugs her bra down, eyes dark as they trail over the soft, pale curves of her body before he trails his mouth over her. And he sighs in utter bliss when he cips one breast, thumb flicking over her nipple, while his mouth closes over the other, tongue against her flesh, just a gentle.hint of teeth as he sucks. Moans for her, as if this is the greatest pleasure she could have granted him.
The relief is palpable, thenfact that he shudders against her, and devotes himself to kissing, licking, nipping and fondling with needy, happy little mewls, utterly gone on her. And the shower floods with the scent of his arousal from just this alone, from her letting him lavish attention on her lovely breasts.
He needs her so bad, yet takes his pleasure in giving pleasure to her. ]
[ Natasha gives a laughing yelp when he lifts her and carries her into the shower, still half dressed. She manages to kick her boots off as she realizes what he’s doing and they clatter to the tile just outside the shower before he has her in under the hot spray of water, pinning her to the still-cool tiles.
She shivers, caught between sensations and temperatures, and then gives a long, breathless moan when his lips close over one of her nipples, sucking and adding an edge of teeth to the kiss, just how she likes it. Her head falls back to the tiles behind her as she arches into his touches, the seductive heat of his mouth. Her legs wrap tight about his waist, her hips rocking against his own, giving him friction in return. But she’s careful, not wanting to overstimulate him when they haven’t yet had a chance to play. Her nails rake lightly against his scalp as she holds him to her breasts, shuddering and gasping for air as he sends pleasure dancing along her nerves.
The sounds he make might be one of the most beautiful things she’s ever heard from him and she can’t wait to hear what other sounds she can drag from that decadent mouth of his. ]
Sam, fuck, yes, just like that. I knew you’d have a clever tongue. You feel so good like this.
[ Sam, she will learn, is noisy in bed. Not always loud per se, but he is shameless about the noises he makes. And right now, she will notice that when she talks dirty to him, when she praises his performance, lets him feel her nails and lets him put his mouth to good use for her...
He comes apart for her. Sam pushes his hips into her, twitching and trembling as release floods him. The sound he makes around the soft flesh of her breast is practically a sob.
And after, still trembling, he just quietly switches to her other breath to lick over her nipple, whining and whimpering, still rocking against her. Over stimulating himself, drunk on her scent. Groaning softly as the hot water washes away his cum, his hole clenching around painful emptiness.
After a moment, he has to rest his forehead against her clavicle, still whining with pleasure and pain. Still rocking against her, no less hard. ]
Please. Tasha, please. Just use me.
[ and he goes right back to grazing his teeth over her nipple, looking up at her with dark, needy eyes. Droplets of water clinging to his long lashes like tears, skin glistening and wet, and rotting against her like he couldn't possibly ever get enough.
Pleasure in a hair trigger. Utterly shameless about the fact that he can get off on nothing but the taste of her and the sound of her dirty praise. ]
[ Her breath hitches softly when she feels him shudder and rock up into her with his first orgasm, just from the taste of her and the sound of her voice in his ear. When he rests his forehead against her, she rubs her cheek against his head, scenting him further before dropping kisses against his skin.
She gives him a gentle nudge when he looks up at her with dark eyes and she can see the depth of his need in them. ]
Set me down, Sam. I can’t fuck you with these jeans in the way.
[ She waits until he obeys, straightens up and gives him a warm, knowing smile as she lets her gaze drink in his form, how hard he is still for her, not affected at all by having orgasmed already. She hums in pleasure at that, reaching out to trail a single fingertip up the underside of his very erect cock. ]
Still so hard for me, what a good omega you are. You’re dripping for me, too, aren’t you? Your scent is so sweet, Sam. [ She leans in to lick a droplet of water sliding down his pec, tracing it back up to his collarbone. ] You’ve kept all this hidden from me until now. How good you smell. You’re in trouble now, I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough.
[ Her hands drop to work open the button to her jeans, because soaked denim isn’t very pliant, but her attention is more on him than getting rid of the last of her clothes. ] Brace your hands on the side of the shower, Sam. Spread your legs for me.
[ it's a hard ask when he really wants to see her, wants to see what she can give him. She felt large through those wet jeans, and that makes his mouth water. But turning around, just spreading his legs and taking her blind is tantalising in it's own right.
So Sam complies. Braces himself against the tiles, presenting himself to her so she can see just how dripping wet he is, just how hard he's clenching on nothing while his cock hangs heavy between his legs. It's all for her.
And Sam let's his head hang a little, enjoys the way the water runs over him. Enjoys the anticipation of knowing he's about to be claimed, used, taken care of in the way all omegas need now and then. And him perhaps more than many.
His voice is soft. Not ashamed, but open with her. ]
It's been a while.
[ Casual, the way he says it. A while. But she knows he's been flying solo for as long as they've known each other. And perhaps it clicks for her, the story of.how suddenly he left the air force after his wing man died, how he has lived a lonely life in Washington until her and Steve came into his life.
That when he says a while he really means no one has touched him in years. That she's the first since someone else he loved dearly and deeply. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Or maybe he's just so far gone already that he just wants to submit to someone's every whim. ]
Ain't been in heat in years. Figure the blockers gonna make sure y'all can put distance between yourself and me. Just drop me at a safe house, pick me up in a few days. I'm gonna be a liability on the group otherwise.
[ he says it casually, as if it wouldn't be a big deal. As if he isn't going to suffer without any relief if he goes through this alone. But he would never ask someone to take care of him - and so he pitches what he thinks is a better solution for everyone else.
Even as he leans into Natasha's touch just a little. Even as he has to swallow a desperate whine. ]
no subject
Her expression is firm as she holds his gaze, wanting him to understand she’s not joking in the least in her answer. ]
You have never been, nor will you ever be, a liability to any of us. And if you think for one minute we’re just gonna drop you in a safe house and let you handle this alone… [ There’s the faintest hint of a growl in her voice at the very idea. ] I’m gonna have to start checking you over for a concussion or brain damage.
[ She can feel Steve’s eyes on her, on them, and something about that has her hackles raising, which is uncalled for and unusual in itself, but nothing about any of this is normal. Especially when Sam’s scent is still so tinged by pain and fear. It’s all she can do right now not to climb into his lap so she can wrap herself around him until that scent goes away. ]
You are not going through your first heat in years alone. Hell, we wouldn’t let you go through that alone even if you hadn’t been on suppressants. So what’s it going to be, Sam? Me or Steve?
[ It’s surprisingly harder for her to get that section option out, even though she wants him to have a choice in this. As much of one as he can, with his own physiology working against him right now. She doesn’t want him to feel forced, but enduring a heat alone is torture and she wouldn’t wish that on anyone, but especially not someone so important to her.
She leans forward, resting her forehead against his own, her hands still warm and gentle against his cheeks, holding him close. She inhales, breathes in his scent and it’s… different, somehow. Maybe it’s the lack of suppressants or blockers or something else, but there’s something under the hurt and the fear that teases her senses. Makes her want to explore it, breathe it in until she knows every nuance of it. ]
Sam. You’re not alone.
no subject
The quinjet floods with the scents of coconut and cocoa butter, of bergamot and lavender, of wild honey and oranges. Sweet and rich and fresh, a little spicy, a little wild. And Sam's lips part on his inhale, dragging the scent Natasha is pressing onto his skin over his tongue like a man parched.
Steve looks over with some alarm. Calls Natasha's name, concerned, and starts moving over.
And Sam?
Sam whines as the unmistakable scent of omega slick seeps into his own, heat kicking in like full force because his instincts just register that an alpha is taking charge of him, and he wants and wants and wants...
If he's not all there anymore,
that's neither here nor there. But he makes a needy sound and leans in, neck bared in offering.
There was an illusion of choice there, for half a second. And now it's just a reality of need, a submission to Natasha. A need to be claimed and had. ]
no subject
[ The word is sharp and aimed at Steve, whose steps stutter to an aborted halt behind her at her tone. Smart of him, because if he’d come much closer, they might really have had a problem. Especially with the sound of Sam’s whine in her ears, the scent of him flooding her senses. Her own eyes have flashed dark for a moment and she closes them to focus, but taking a breath isn’t calming anything right now.
So she does what she can, while she still has the focus to do so. He can probably figure most of it out on his own but she doesn’t want any missteps here. Not with Sam already offering her his throat without a word and two very dominant alphas in one enclosed, airborne space. That’s not even touching on the volatility of Wanda being caught in here with them too, after what she’s been through. Natasha doesn’t look away from Sam, however, keeping her hands on him, wanting him to know that sharp tone hadn’t been directed at him. ]
Steve, I’m going to need you to land the plane where we talked about and then you need to get Wanda into one of the safehouses. Take the one closer to the jet. I’ll get Sam off to the one closer to the woods when its safe to move. [ She does risk a glance in his direction then, making sure he understood. Something silent passes between them before her lips quirk wryly. ] Try not to crash us into the ocean, would you? I don’t think I’ll look nearly as good at 90 as you do.
[ She’s already turned her attention back to Sam and misses Steve’s response, but she’s aware of every step he takes away from them and towards the cockpit and something in her relaxes a little more at the distance now between them.
She nudges Sam slightly to shift positions and then she does what she’d wanted to earlier, slides in to straddle his lap between her knees as she takes a seat there, fitting easily and letting her arms wrap around him. Wrapping him in her scent as she drags him close. One hand slides up to cup at the nape of his neck, drawing him in, letting his face bury against her throat as she tries to let her own scent reassure him. Block out everything else in that moment.
Her lips trail against his own throat, responding to the submission he gave her. Although for the moment, it’s just soft, gentle kisses, soothing him as her fingers stroke against the nape of his neck with the faintest scrape of nails. ]
I’ve got you, Sam. It’s alright now. You’re safe. Take a deep breath for me.
[ She knows his heat is starting, but if she can get him relaxed enough, they might still be able to make it to the safe house before the worst of it sets in. She doesn’t know if tricking his system into slowing down under the wash of her voice and touch and scent will work, but she’s going to try anyway. ]
no subject
But Natasha is a solid weight in his lap, gives solid direction. The part of Sam that's still himself is calmed, reassured. The part of Sam that wants to bury himself in her scent, lick it out of her and get himself full and filled with it, is soothed for now.
He mumbles an apology into her neck but doesn't raise his head. Just clings to her and shudders with every motion of the quinjet, with every whiff of scent that confuses his senses. And softly, mumbled against her throat while he's focused on her scent and the feeling of her warmth enveloping him: ]
You don't have to do this. It's not fair to you. You don't have to.
no subject
You know me better than that. You know I would never do anything I didn’t want to. [ She makes herself pause, though, because that had sounded halfway coherent and she has to make sure before she takes this any further. He’s already been through so much, she doesn’t want this to be one more thing that haunts him. ] Are you okay with this or would you be more comfortable with Steve?
[ She hopes not. His scent is already driving her half mad, but she’d do it, if that put him more at ease, if that’s what he wanted. ]
Let me hear you say what you want, Sam. I need the words. Tell me. [ There’s a command implied in those words, for all that her voice is still soft and hushed against his throat, warm breath whispering against his skin as she murmurs them just under his ear. ]
no subject
Still, he doesn't answer immediately. The pause is calm, not hesitant, while he tries so hard not to seek friction. He knows his answer, but he has capacity enough to breath through the need to immediately reassure her that her wants her, that it's been her for so long, but the timing was never right, or else her desires ran different, and Sam doesn't push for his own desires over others. Has always been happy with a solid friendship and casual flirtations. Isn't the type to stay around only to wait for his chance. Is the type who genuinely cherishes the connection he gets, not the potential of future developments.
That's why he needs her to know that as much as he loves and cherishes Steve as a friend and would feel safe and cared for, when she asked him to choose, the choice makes itself. Even if it's just this. Even if it's just a heat claimed between friends and partners. As long as she's fine with giving this, he can handle receiving it. Even if it's nothing more, hell be grateful that they're friends and can take care of each other like this.
And if she wants no more of him after, it wouldn't change his answer. ]
It's you. It's been you.
no subject
Her fingers stroke against the back of his neck once more and then she is gently tugging his head up. Not away, she still wants him surrounded in the safety of her scent, but considering she’s perched comfortably in his lap, it’s not like he could go far anyway.
She swipes her thumb against one of his cheekbones for a moment, searching his face. But he’s given her his answer and that’s all she needed to hear from him. There’s no hesitation this time when she draws him in and captures his lips with hers in a deep, claiming kiss. ]
no subject
He kisses her like he's starved for it, for her. Trembles for her, unable to stop the soft noises he makes. The way he's oh so responsive and reactive to her every touch, her proximity, her promise of control.
When his eyes flutter open again, his eyes are slivers of omega gold beneath those long, curled lashes.
Samn licks his lips with a soft, pleased noise and nuzzles back close. Makes a needy little sound, for her, just for her. And with a voice cracking on his own rising desperation, he calls her... ]
Alpha...
no subject
One hand trails lightly down his throat, adding only the occasional edge of nails to the otherwise possessive caress. Her palm comes to rest just over his sternum, holding him where she wants him as she kisses his lips, nips at them softly. She watches his face, sees that glint of gold, smiles at the word uttered with just a hint of desperation. ]
I've got you, baby. [ The word is careful, murmured against his lips, her gaze watchful on his face, not wanting to say anything that might have negative connotations for him. They're diving into the deep end from the start and she's going to have to adapt on the fly. ] I'm going to take care of you. Give you everything you crave. And you're gonna be so good for me, aren't you?
no subject
But that's for strangers and for people who over step. Once he let's someone in, they gain much more leeway. She'd know how he secretly preens under praise. How he is starved for casual affection and friendly sweetness.
So Natasha is on the right track here. Evident in how his Adam's apple bobbin thinly veiled excitement when she runs her hand down his throat.
Like he wants her to grab and bite. Like he hears her call home baby and he is so damn gone for it in the best of ways. ]
I can be so good. Please. Let me be good for you....
[ Sam who bucks authority, who will disregard direct orders and gove the finger to anyone who is foolish enough to think they're in charge of him.
Yeah that same Sam thrives when given the opportunity to fall in line like this. When he can be good without having to prove himself so hard.
He looks at Natasha like she's hanging the moon for him. Not all of that is just because of the heat licking at him. ]
no subject
I know you will, sweet boy. [ She knows how much of a gift this is. This trust he's offered her, how much he's willing to be vulnerable with her. It's something she intends to take the utmost care with, make sure he has everything he wants.
She keeps one hand pressed to his chest, just over where she can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his skin flushed almost too-hot beneath her touch. She lifts her head enough to meet his gaze again, sliding a finger from her other hand underneath his chin and guiding him up to look at her, holding him there in place. Giving him commands, guidance, to help keep him anchored until they're both in a safe place to do more. A private place, just for them. ]
You're going to tell me if there's something you don't want, Sam. That's an order. Tell me yellow, or red, depending on how severe it is. We didn't have time to go over your boundaries before this hit, so we'll be making this up as we go, but I want you to be honest with me about it. Can you do that for me?
no subject
And that he is absolutely getting dripping wet when she says "That's an order".
She might be discovering a Thing here.
The flight drags on for ages and Sam loses time eventually, feels like he's drifting in a haze of fever, need and Natasha's scent. Frankly he's unaware of most anything until he hears a door close. Blinks, looks around - realizes he's no longer on the jet, and instead with Natasha in a safe house.
It's uncomfortable almost, how far gone he has been. Comforting that he was safe, though. That they're alone.
And still, he feels... unsettled. So.... ]
Yellow?
[ so it comes out a bit of a whine. Sam is exhausted, looks like he's run a marathon, despite only having walked from the quinjet to the safe house in Natasha's tow.
His heat is really, really bad. ]
no subject
I’m right here, Sam. Come here. [ Another order, because he seemed to react better when she phrased it that way, something she’d been quick to pick up on, on the way here.
It had felt like it lasted forever, but Steve had landed them at the small, isolated preserve she’d had ready and waiting for them. There were half a dozen little cabins clustered around the edge of a lake, which was still a step up from a camper with a faulty generator, but it sure wasn’t any five-star hotel. It would do what they needed it to, though, and it was private with a roof over their heads.
And had a bed. Which she was going to make very good use of in very short order, once she got Sam taken care of. ] What do you need most, Sam? What’s the first priority here? Shower, sleep, or dealing with your heat?
[ She can tell he’s already slipping deep in a haze but after all he’s been through, she’s not exactly sure which need is weighing on him heaviest. She wants to see to all of them, but there are clearly priorities that need to be met here. ]
no subject
There's a mental image for Natasha to enjoy. Sam bends into her touch, noses at her neck. The proximity brings with it the scent of other alphas on him like a brand. If she were to get him baked and follow those scents she could get a good idea about how many people touched him recently, and where. It nearly drowns out his own sweetness. ]
Shower, please.
[ And the gentlest touch of his lips in her jawline. Just a small kiss. Sweet, almost shy. Reverent. Like he knows that they're here for her to claim his heat for herself, and yet he still wants to be sweet with her. Like he wants to make sure she feels appreciated, too, thatbshe knows she's not just a ticket to a good knotting for him.
That he adores her so.
A small testament to the fact that she could have had him like this, had she wanted him sooner. And yet he will never begrudge her choices. Is just happy she's here now. Trembling in her arms with desire and heat, but also exuding a quiet contentment with her presence underneath that. ]
no subject
But right now, she just skims a comforting caress against his throat as she turns to kiss along his jaw as well, warm and reassuring before she takes him by the hand and leads him towards the only other door in the little one room cabin, the one that leads to the bathroom in the back. It’s nothing extravagant, but it does have the plus of having a large walk-in shower rather than a tub, so the both of them will fit easily.
She starts the water running to let it heat before turning back to him once more. ]
Alright, Sam. Lets get you undressed. I’ll get in to help you wash off, unless you’re not comfortable with that. [ She flicks a glance to his face to check, even as she starts helping him tug his shirt up over his head. ]
no subject
But it's when she reaches for him that Sam is immediately soothed, sighs with content pleasure at her proximity. Reaches for her so easily, goes to her with no hesitation. All the trust in the world. He understands that he's safe with her.
Had she been a day later, he would have gone through his heat on the Raft. He would be like this but in the presence of alpha guards who bruised his face. In a small cell with transparent walls.
As they undress him, more bruises show. She can also see the weight and muscle mass he has lost. It's not horrific - but noticable. He'll have to work hard to get back into the shape he's usually in.
But he can't help but quip. ]
I'll be prettier for you next time.
no subject
You're still plenty pretty right now. Anything else is temporary and will heal. But they haven't dimmed you at all.
[ And the bruises and the loss of weight and muscle she sees just makes her stabby, if she's honest. ]
Get out of these pants, sweet boy. Next time we do this, we can take our time and play with drawing it out. But right now I want to get you clean and all those scents off you. [ She presses a trail of kisses against his collar bone. ] We can play once I'm the only scent you're wearing on your skin.
[ And she takes a half step back to give him the room to obey, taking advantage of the time to work her own vest and top off, dropping them near the door and leaving her in tight jeans and a black lace bra. ]
no subject
There's no missing how hard Sam's scent slips into arousal. No missing how his cock is straining and how his thighs are wet with slick when he drops his pants. And Sam should be embarrassed by how needy he is here, but he can't even consider that. It's for her, it's all for her. And why should he be embarrassed about the proof of how much he desires her, how she affects him.
Still... oh she looks so good.
So despite her instructions, Sam move towards her for a moment. Large warm hands on her tiny waist, eyes on that sliver of black fabric. He looks starved. Wants to be inside her as badly as he wants her inside of him.
But for now... ]
Let me play with your breasts. [ it's brash, and his eyes are bright with something playful and needy. ] please?
no subject
His scent is already filling the room just as thickly as the steam from the shower and she takes a deep breath of it, her eyes darkening a shade. Her own scent thickens in response, her want just as potent for him as she steps into that warm grip on her waist. She slides her hands up his arms, smiling at him knowingly, even as she takes a step closer once more and slides teasingly against his front.
She can see - and feel - exactly how much he wants her and it makes this all the more alluring as she angles her hip so she can press in against him, letting him feel the same in kind. She can’t wait to be buried deep inside of him. Have him writhing on her knot. ]
Since you asked so prettily… [ As if she’d deny him anything. ] You can have anything you want right now, Sam.
no subject
The relief is palpable, thenfact that he shudders against her, and devotes himself to kissing, licking, nipping and fondling with needy, happy little mewls, utterly gone on her. And the shower floods with the scent of his arousal from just this alone, from her letting him lavish attention on her lovely breasts.
He needs her so bad, yet takes his pleasure in giving pleasure to her. ]
no subject
She shivers, caught between sensations and temperatures, and then gives a long, breathless moan when his lips close over one of her nipples, sucking and adding an edge of teeth to the kiss, just how she likes it. Her head falls back to the tiles behind her as she arches into his touches, the seductive heat of his mouth. Her legs wrap tight about his waist, her hips rocking against his own, giving him friction in return. But she’s careful, not wanting to overstimulate him when they haven’t yet had a chance to play. Her nails rake lightly against his scalp as she holds him to her breasts, shuddering and gasping for air as he sends pleasure dancing along her nerves.
The sounds he make might be one of the most beautiful things she’s ever heard from him and she can’t wait to hear what other sounds she can drag from that decadent mouth of his. ]
Sam, fuck, yes, just like that. I knew you’d have a clever tongue. You feel so good like this.
no subject
He comes apart for her. Sam pushes his hips into her, twitching and trembling as release floods him. The sound he makes around the soft flesh of her breast is practically a sob.
And after, still trembling, he just quietly switches to her other breath to lick over her nipple, whining and whimpering, still rocking against her. Over stimulating himself, drunk on her scent. Groaning softly as the hot water washes away his cum, his hole clenching around painful emptiness.
After a moment, he has to rest his forehead against her clavicle, still whining with pleasure and pain. Still rocking against her, no less hard. ]
Please. Tasha, please. Just use me.
[ and he goes right back to grazing his teeth over her nipple, looking up at her with dark, needy eyes. Droplets of water clinging to his long lashes like tears, skin glistening and wet, and rotting against her like he couldn't possibly ever get enough.
Pleasure in a hair trigger. Utterly shameless about the fact that he can get off on nothing but the taste of her and the sound of her dirty praise. ]
no subject
She gives him a gentle nudge when he looks up at her with dark eyes and she can see the depth of his need in them. ]
Set me down, Sam. I can’t fuck you with these jeans in the way.
[ She waits until he obeys, straightens up and gives him a warm, knowing smile as she lets her gaze drink in his form, how hard he is still for her, not affected at all by having orgasmed already. She hums in pleasure at that, reaching out to trail a single fingertip up the underside of his very erect cock. ]
Still so hard for me, what a good omega you are. You’re dripping for me, too, aren’t you? Your scent is so sweet, Sam. [ She leans in to lick a droplet of water sliding down his pec, tracing it back up to his collarbone. ] You’ve kept all this hidden from me until now. How good you smell. You’re in trouble now, I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough.
[ Her hands drop to work open the button to her jeans, because soaked denim isn’t very pliant, but her attention is more on him than getting rid of the last of her clothes. ] Brace your hands on the side of the shower, Sam. Spread your legs for me.
no subject
So Sam complies. Braces himself against the tiles, presenting himself to her so she can see just how dripping wet he is, just how hard he's clenching on nothing while his cock hangs heavy between his legs. It's all for her.
And Sam let's his head hang a little, enjoys the way the water runs over him. Enjoys the anticipation of knowing he's about to be claimed, used, taken care of in the way all omegas need now and then. And him perhaps more than many.
His voice is soft. Not ashamed, but open with her. ]
It's been a while.
[ Casual, the way he says it. A while. But she knows he's been flying solo for as long as they've known each other. And perhaps it clicks for her, the story of.how suddenly he left the air force after his wing man died, how he has lived a lonely life in Washington until her and Steve came into his life.
That when he says a while he really means no one has touched him in years. That she's the first since someone else he loved dearly and deeply. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)