A story set during a war.

Pick a war, any war! Canon era(s), AUs, creative definitions of "war" are all welcome! If you write fic for Captain America: Civil War, please label spoilers accordingly!

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From:

glitteratiglue

Title: inside me like my pulse
Fandom: Captain America
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes
Rating: M
Additional Tags: Sex Pollen, WWII, Pining, Consent Issues, as in they both consent but aren't exactly in their right minds, Internalized Homophobia, Community: tropebingo.

--

“Human trials of aerosolised aphrodisiacs,” Steve reads, his voice stuttering on the last word.

Bucky frowns. “Did you just say —”

Steve can feel his face turning pink. “I’m not saying it again, Buck. You heard.”

Link on AO3.

(I hope it's okay that this also happens to be a fill for a trope bingo square. Two birds, one stone, y'know?)

Edited Date: 2016-02-22 06:05 pm (UTC)

From:

dira

Multipurpose stories are entirely welcome! :D And ooh, sex pollen...

From:

what_alchemy

A Small War (2117 words) by what_alchemy

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Agent Carter (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Peggy Carter/Dottie Underwood

Characters: Peggy Carter, Dottie Underwood

Additional Tags: Cold War, Red Room, Far Future

Summary: They've chased each other across battlefields, across borders, across decades.

From:

iwillnotbecaged

Fandom: Captain America
Relationships: Sam/Steve/Bucky
Rating: G
Tags: Fluff

This is a very, very loose interpretation of "war". Sorry.

-----

“I don’t care if being a super soldier means you can deal with the cold. You don’t like the cold, so you are going to dress like a regular old human.” Sam finished wrapping the scarf around Bucky’s neck and reached for the beanie on the counter.

“Plus you look adorable all bundled up.” Steve leaned and kissed Bucky’s nose. Bucky was unamused.

New York had gotten 6 inches of snow the night before and Steve had proposed they all go out and enjoy it together. Sam was willing to indulge Steve’s romantic view of snow, but Bucky wasn’t quite on board.

“I hate wearing all this shit. It restricts movement and slows down my reflexes.” Bucky crossed his arms in front of his chest. Sam decided against teasing him for pouting; he didn’t seem to be in the mood for it today.

“Don’t worry, baby.” Steve wrapped his arms around him. “We’ll protect you.” Bucky’s answering glare didn’t dampen Steve’s spirits in the least.

Sam grabbed Tater’s leash and they headed out into the streets and walked in the direction of Prospect Park. Steve couldn’t stop grinning as he looked around at the blanket of white on the cars and buildings. He knew that the snow caused problems, that it was a hassle for a lot of people, but he still couldn’t bring himself to hate it. It was beautiful and he could go out and enjoy it without worrying about getting sick or his lungs acting up. Given the choice, he preferred warmth and sunshine, but there was just something about snow that got to him.

When they got to the park, Sam let Tater off the leash so he could run around a bit. Normally he spent 22 hours of the day sleeping, but snow seemed to have the same effect on him as it had on Steve. Bucky watched him bound around and jump into snow drifts and let a small smile slip onto his face.

Steve watched Bucky out of the corner of his eye as he reached down and scooped up a handful of snow. He took advantage of Bucky’s distraction to form a snowball. He aimed carefully for Bucky’s right shoulder and let it fly.

Bucky was more aware than Steve gave him credit for, though, and he simply stepped back to avoid the attack. Steve’s perfectly formed snowball sailed right past him and landed with a thud in the middle of Sam’s back.

Sam turned and looked at both of them. There was a moment of utter stillness, the three men frozen in place, staring at one another, before all hell broke loose.

---

They eventually exhausted themselves and went back to the apartment. Sam had to carry Tater and when they got home, the dog immediately climbed into his bed and passed out. Bucky made three mugs of hot chocolate (with mini-marshmallows, of course) and they snuggled together on the couch. It took a few minutes to get their large bodies and all their limbs into a comfortable position.

“We have got to get a bigger couch,” Steve complained for the thousandth time as he set aside the empty mugs. He pulled the quilt Sam made for them over their laps and started up an old musical they had in their Netflix queue. By the end of the second song, all three of them were sound asleep.