You'll Be Fine (Here)

Marvel Cinematic Universe Captain America - All Media Types
Gen
G
You'll Be Fine (Here)
author
Characters
Summary
Steve was in heat.There was no other explanation. But how was Steve in heat? Steve wasn’t an Omega. Steve was the perfect picture boy for American Alphas. The Captain America.Yet here they were.
Note
I was just bored and felt like writing some Steve whump. All comments (especially those that point out any mistakes) are very appreciated and make me a happy writer!

Chapter 1

“Sir, Mr Rogers seems to be under some distress.”

Tony’s head sprang up from his desk, accidentally knocking down one of many coffee cups that were positioned too close to the edge. The piece that he had been tinkering with was sat down and his hunched back straightened.

“What? Distressed how? Did Cap call for me?” The genius asked. It was rare for JARVIS to disturb him when he was in his zone. That only happened when there was an emergency or when Pepper decided to bug him, either one.

“No sir, in fact, when I inquired if he needed assistance from anyone, he repeatedly stated that he didn’t need it but I felt the need to inform someone that he appears to be sick or showing symptoms of it.”

‘Oh yeah, right.’ He thought. Most of the Avengers were on a mission. Steve and him had just gotten back from one so they were excused along with Thor, who was back on Asgard, and Bruce, because the Hulk didn’t seem to be needed.

“Wait, did you say sick? Capsicle doesn’t get sick.” Tony murmured as he got up, groaning a little at how a few of his joints popped, and headed to the elevator.

A seed of worry planted itself into his head as he pondered on what could be wrong with Steve. It would be just like him to hide injuries from others.

The stubborn little shit was always so reserved and weary of them. He understood that it was hard to wake up to a new world where everything was flashy and different, and all those you knew were dead. PTSD was not a stranger to him. But he still shouldn’t be trying to avoid contact with them at all costs, because they were supposed to be a team. They were a team but sometimes they had to spend an hour trying to break their Captain out of his hard shell. Which was even harder to do when said Captain would flinch every time someone would so much as put a hand at his shoulder and looked like would rather be hiding somewhere up in his room.

It was a miracle that they got him to move in at all. Everyone was being as welcoming as possible and on a rare, joyful occasion, Steve would come out of his 'layer' just to hang out, and not because he had to. They all thought that it was a good sign, but if Steve was hiding injuries or being sick from them then they might have to try harder to gain some trust.

He reached Steve’s floor and winced a little at how bare it was. It seemed that the Super Soldier still hadn’t decorated, even after a month of living there. The living room looked so impersonal that it hurt, and also hung as a reminder of how little personal items Steve had left. There was a wooden bookshelf in the corner, filled with all the stuff Steve had been catching up on and a jacket draped over a chair, but that was it. No pictures, no nothing, only the furniture already in place.

It was beyond him how the blond managed to spend nearly all of his free time there. The common floor looked much more appealing to him, it had a homely feeling and looked lived in. He guessed that if Steve really liked to be alone (which everyone thought he shouldn’t be) so much then at least he could bring him out to shop for some room decor.

Tony knocked on Steve’s bedroom door. Usually he would just stroll in but he had a feeling that it would be the wrong way to approach Steve. “Hey, Cap?”

Nothing.

“Capsicle, you alright?” A faint whimper slipped through the door. It was muffled, like someone was trying their hardest to keep it in but it forced it’s way out anyway.

A chill ran down Tony’s spin at the fray sound. That was a bad thing to hear from a normally stoic World War 2 vet. He went to open the door but it was closed and his attention was brought to a small black device stuck to the handle. A scent blocker? Why would Steve need one? He knew that the blond was always on suppressants. Always. Tony had figured it was to keep a level head during battle and to prevent others from smelling his emotions. But there was no need for something like this on his free time. Maybe he was ashamed of his scent? He knew many people who dislike their scent for one reason or another.

Didn’t matter now. Help Steve first.

“JARVIS, override the privacy settings and open the door!” Normally the AI would object to this but the door clicked open. This only told him that it was serious and he stormed in.

As soon as he opened the door, he stumbled back in a stupor. A frenzy of smells assaulted his nose and his very core. It was sweet, like an apple pie but had a distinct unnatural, chemical stench to it that would have put most people off but send his pheromones flowing. The scent reminded him of the sanctuary of his lab with something far more erotic mixed into it that send his head spinning. His body came to life so suddenly, sharply that it felt like he had waited his hole life for this moment. A deep ache at the very root of his cock made itself known. It reminded him of the time, long ago, when he had been young and inexperienced, loosing his mind at the faintest of smells. That's the only time he could remember getting a hard on this fast.

Oh God. He snapped himself out of it (as much as he could. That smell was like pure heaven around him) and took a wobbly step into the room.

He didn’t know what he expected to see, he hadn’t had time to think about it or to assume, but it definitely wasn’t this. His eyes could not spot Steve at first but his nose picked up where the sweet smell was coming from right away.

The king sized bed was bushed into the far right corner of the room horizontally, a rooms length away from the door where he was standing. It wasn’t pressed all the way against the back wall, leaving a little cap there that was blocked from his view.

Tony leaped forward to get a better look and couldn’t believe his eyes. There was a nest of blankets, pillows and clothes built into the little cap so perfectly that anyone who was more than ten feet away couldn’t see it. In the middle of the dog pile was a curled up Steve, wrapped into a burrito by the downy blankets around him, letting out little whimpers and discomfort noises. He was covered so well that all you could see of him was a little buff of blond hair and his silhouette.

The mechanic had to blink several times but couldn’t get his breathing under control.

Steve was in heat.

There was no other explanation. But how was Steve in heat? Steve wasn’t an Omega. Steve was the perfect picture boy for American Alphas. Big, strong, and independent. The Captain America.

Yet here they were.

How. How. How. How did no one knew about this? His inner Alpha was horrified at the thought that they had an Omega in the pack and he didn’t know about it. An Omega that went out on mission without them scenting him, letting the enemies know that he was under their protection. Tony shook those thoughts away, of course Steve knew how to fight and take care of himself but still: why didn’t Steve tell them?

Tony’s breath stopped for a moment. Oh. Oh. Everyone knew that back in the 40’s Omegas had little to no rights and were looked down upon as second class citizens. This had only changed recently with the gender equality movement.

How did Steve even get into the army? They used to have a strict only Alpha policy.

Suddenly it made sense why the blond acted so stiffly around them. No Omega would be comfortable living with a pack of Alphas after growing up like that. Is that why he hid it? Did he think that they would treat him differently because of it? Did he think that they’d take advantage of him?

Just as he was about to be sick from his thoughts, another louder whimper broke through to him.

It didn’t look like Steve was aware of his presence in the room, too far gone, but his pheromones were reaching out to him, making him confused.

The figure under the pile of blankets squirmed and tried to curl up further.

Shit. What was he going to do? The Alpha inside of him growled at the thought of him leave Steve like this, but there was no way he was going to take advantage of his state, no matter what his growing arousal said.

He was not a stranger to Omegas in heat but this was much different. This was Steve. Usually, two parties would make an agreement about this sort of thing before hand, then fuck and be done with it. He had never taken care of an Omega in heat without sex, this was a new territory for him.

Tony did know that Steve would be in a vulnerable state of mind so he would definitely need to be gentle. Another new territory.

“Steve,” He whispered loud enough so, hopefully, the other would hear it through his haze, and reached out a hand to pull a blanket away from the Super Soldier’s face. The billionaire got an instant reaction in the form of a full body flinch and a pair of blue, watery eyes looking up at him in terror. The smell of a distressed Omega made him want to hold and lick and snuggle until it was all better.

“There he is,” he said in a voice that he hoped was soothing. Steve tensed all over and started trembling, still looking at him but at the same time, looking at nothing.

“Please, no, no, stop, go away, please stop.” The blond started choking out, his breath uneven. Heavy arms clammed over to cover his head, as he tried to move back towards the wall but lacked the energy to do so.

“Hey, its okay, its me, its Tony. You’re safe.” He tried to get the other to calm down while ignoring the sick feeling he got that squeezed his chest. He had never seen him like this. Sure, there were a few instances where he looked scared or unsure, but no where near begging invisible attackers to stop. The gentle words meant nothing and he just continued to squirm to get away.

Tony was at a loss when his teammate didn’t ease up at all. A broken, desperate sob tore it’s way out of Steve’s throat that spoke volumes. It was near deafening in the silent floor, louder than their rushed breaths and drumming hearts. It feels impossible that Steve was like this, and he lost all control over his Alpha instincts.

He swiftly lifted the edge of the blanket and squeezed himself next to Steve and wrapped his arms around him. Steve let out a hoars scream and began to kick and struggle against him but couldn’t really do anything in his weakened state, Super Soldier or not. Tony held him firmly and one of his hands began to run through his hair.

“Shhh, you’re safe, you’re safe, I won’t do anything. Promise.” He whispered directly into his ear, never stopping petting his hair.

The other eased most of his struggling but was still tense as wood next to him. He could hear him taking a deep breath through his nose and bushed his neck next to his face to amplify his smell.

Gears turned slowly in his head but eventually he gasped out, “Tony?”

“Yeah, me,” he said and tightened his grip on him possessively. He could tell that the other was very unsure about him so he kept whispering comforting things into his ear. That he was going to take care of him and that he was safe and sound. Grounding him with he presence, oozing out all the dominance and confidence he could muster up.

Steve sat still and listened. Eventually, after determining that he wasn’t in any danger, brought his own hands around Tony and buried his face into his neck. His face was wet from crying and the moisture was seeping into his shirt but he couldn’t care less.

The blond was incredibly warm, flushing and radiating heat, like a living furnace. They were a tight fit into the already small nest and that maximized their skin contact, leaving Tony burning. It was a good kind of burning and he wanted to be even closer to it, but at that point it wasn’t possible.

Steve’s normally sharp mind must have caught up to the fact that there was an unbonded Alpha nearby, and he started exposing his neck to Tony and rubbing it against him. The pheromones the scratching released were enough to make his head spin all over again and it took all he had not to move his hands to touch something he wasn’t supposed to. It smelled so good and inviting, and those damn irresistible noises he made, but he knew that if he did something and Steve regained his mind later, he would never be forgiven.

So he just steeled himself as Steve started grinding his other area against his. He couldn’t control the moan that left his lips but pulled his hips out of reach while still remaining all the other body contact. Steve let out a miserable whine and shifted to get more friction on his groin area. 

Steve. None of that.” There was an edge in his voice that made Steve stop, a gasp hitching his chest. He knew that if this continued, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back. Self-control had never been one of his strengths, especially with this much temptation right in front of him, pressed against him. His member was hard as a rock, twitching every time Steve let out one of those delicious noises. He wondered what kind of desperate sounds he would make stretched around his- No! Nope. Get your head out of there. Later, he promised himself, the second he was alone, he would run into the nearest bathroom and jerk off until his knot came out.

Steve had started to cry again. “T’ny, it hurts.” He let out in a quivering voice, pink little lips trembling ever so slightly against him. Tony bet they’d feel amazing to smash against his own- Damn it! He needed a distraction.

“I know, I know, but you’re doing so well,” Steve shuttered against him because of the small praise, “and it’ll be over soon.” He never stopped brushing his messy hair with his fingers, and began to rub comforting circles around his back.

Tony started doubling numbers in his head. It was something he used to do when he was younger, and sometimes even now, when he felt an anxiety attack coming on. 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, and so on and on until he reached so high numbers that he started questioning if he messed up or added something wrong, and all the numbers became a jumbled mess. All the while not stopping his hands from stroking Steve.

‘It must be so hard for him', he thought. To be so close to something he needed like air but not allowed to have it. It was strange to think that Steve could normally throw him across the room and through the wall if he pleased but right now couldn’t lift a hand for too long. It might seem cruel to torture him like this but it would be even worse if he were sitting here along, soaking up his own scent. At leased there was something keeping him from going mad. Plus, the thought of leaving a member of his pack alone in such a vulnerable state with no one to assure their safety left his teeth on edge.

Steve continued to whine and cry. As time passed he seemed to slump again the bed, but didn’t stop the salty tears that soaked Tony’s shirt.

He wished he could do more and make him better, but all he could think of doing was cursing biology. Tony shhhed Steve again when he made a hitched sob, and started telling him all the stories he could remember his father telling him about Captain America. There were quite a few.

Eventually, the stories ran out and silence fell over the two heroes. Steve’s pitiful noises had died down while listening (he didn’t actually know if he had listened or had just been distracted by his voice). The only sound was their breathing, which had synched (in any other circumstances, Tony would have made a rather snarky remark about that). Steve’s chest fell so evenly that he guessed that he was asleep.

His own eyes started falling in the now darkened room (how long had it been?). Hopefully he would get some answers later.

 

TBC...