#steve rogers trauma

[hainethehero]

Headcanon of Steve just having isolated moments of utter nostalgia, and the resultant melancholy from it is so debilitating that he has bouts of depression for days...

Like, one day while they're hunting for some random villain of the week, they get caught in a heavy downpour. And everyone filters into whatever shelter is available to keep out of the frigid wetness, but Steve... Steve remains. He stands as still as a marble statue, raindrops pelting down upon him, dripping down his skin just like it had all those years ago.

It's so oddly profound to him in that moment... that, the rain smells the same.

It looks the same.

It even sounds the same!

Then he'll remember his sweet Mama, the Howlies. Peggy's easy, confident smile. Hell- even Phillips. And Bucky. He can feel the blazing warmth of Bucky's strong hands around him, keeping him safe and cosy. The memory is so real that he takes a step forward to touch it.

That he can close his eyes and almost take himself back to the good days.

But then Tony's voice crackles to life in his ear. He's back in the future. Back in the never-ending machine of robotic nonsense. Back in the twenty-first century where the cold never seems to melt away from his skin. Where Bucky is just someone from the history books. And where there's no one on the planet who can remember him from his time.

He returns to his team with a shattered heart, thankful for the rain only because it hides his tears. But they can all see how they're red-rimmed from sheer grief. They don't poke fun at him, not even Tony is that cruel.

Instead, they get him safely back to the Tower where Bruce swaddles him in piles of blankets, Tony makes him a hot cup of cocoa and the rest of the team curls around him and keeps him warm. Safe. Protected.

After a few days of the cuddle pile (because they refuse to leave him alone, especially Thor), the nostalgia doesn't seem so bad.

[astxrwar]

“why do you HC bucky as desperately wanting to feel needed” well you see

Steve. pre-serum. scrappy smart-mouthed 5’4 zero brain cells. always sick and asthmatic and losing everyone in his life and Bucky took care of him! loved him! loved to take care of him!

and then one day steve didn’t need somebody to take care of him anymore. and he started taking care of Bucky (saved him the first time, then the second time, essentially brought him back to life!!) and bucky started needing him and he never really stopped needing him and he hated himself for it and for not being able to do things for Steve the way he used to. and then steve was just. gone. and now he’s alone. and he feels okay only when he’s being useful to people and Proving Steve Right about him being good under the decades of abuse trauma.

he is absolutely not comfortable with the side of himself that Needs people that badly, he’d gone most of his life being the caretaker and not really knowing what that even felt like, and it’s easier to allow yourself to need to be needed than it is to just. need. they’re both basically the same thing but it’s an extra step to assuage his pervasive self-worth issues and feel Secure in caring about people because he really just feels like a burden unless he’s being Useful.

[hurtspideyparker]

The Avengers as High School Friend Group Archetypes

Tony Stark: Mentally ill friend. Made too many suicide jokes so his friends forced him into therapy. Flakes out on plans a lot. Either has a God complex or the worst self-esteem known to humankind. Freaks everyone out when he texts goodbye in the gc without context (he's just going on a business trip)

Bucky Barnes: Black cat. Hisses at everyone but Steve. Great at holding his boundaries but comes off aloof. Nobody is sure if he actually likes them but would secretly kill for all his friends. Hides in shadows and jumpscares everyone with his lurking. Secretly naps on Sam's bed when no one's looking

Steve Rogers: Mom friend. Always has granola bars, Tylenol, and a Tide to Go on him. Organizes the group hangouts and reminds everyone when they have a dentist appointment. Everyone's parents love him, "you can go if Steve's going" vibe. Constantly getting his friends out of trouble (secretly encourages them). His romantic life is a disaster

Thor Odinson: Gym bro. Eats eggs, chicken and rice everyday. Forces his friends to join him in the gym and comments about them not eating enough protein. Genuinely cares for their health, will get them out of bed for food and fresh air when they're sad. Goes through protein powder like Tony went through cocaine in the 80s

Peter Parker: Annoying little brother. Someone's mom definitely made them bring him to the big kid hangout. Everyone bullies him but he doesn't realize it, he just likes the attention from the cool older kids. Sam and Bucky hold him upside down from his ankles till he gets dizzy and Steve makes them put him down. Everyone is super protective of him when he's outside the friend group (hey, only we get to be mean to him)

Sam Wilson: Therapist friend. Gets way too many texts at 3 am. Extremely emotionally mature but laughs at fart jokes. Knows everyone's trauma and will use it against them if provoked. Strangers randomly vent to him in public. Gentle parents adults when they're upset. Nobody ever asks him how he is

Natasha Romanoff: Man hater. All her best friends are men and none of them are actually sure if she's joking about hating them. Mean but never takes things too far. Flirts constantly because she thinks it's funny but is really awkward and bad at it when she genuinely likes someone. Hates when someone treats her like a man / "one of the bros", wishes she had more female friends

Bruce Banner: Bad luck friend. Can not catch a break. Everytime they hear from him something new has gone wrong in his life. His dog threw up on his bed, his computer broke before a huge deadline, his favourite sweater shrunk in the dryer. Just a disaster of a human. Constantly has some minor injury, from inexplicable bruises to a sprained wrist. Never having a good day but tries to remain positive. Anxious

Clint Barton: Class clown. Will make a fool of himself in front of every pretty girl in his vicinity. Is actually only funny half the time, the other half he's just loudly wrong. Confidence is key for him. Can charm and talk his way out of anything. Will make everyone laugh at the worst moments. Women reject him because he has a girl best friend

Wanda Maximoff: Boy crazy. Is ready to talk about her crush, boyfriend, or situationship at any given moment. Is never single for longer than a month. Will not take shit from a man and makes sure her and her friends are treated properly. Surprisingly good at balancing her friendships and relationships, doesn't neglect people. Has Pinterest boards for her wedding, dream home, and decor. Wants to be a stay at home mom. Big Swiftie and went to the Eras Tour

Pietro Maximoff: Unemployed friend. Always doing the most random thing on a Tuesday morning. One day he's kayaking in British Columbia, the next he's joined an MLM scam. He has a new cat? He adopted him from Istanbul on that trip no one knows about. He's drinking fresh lemonade? He actually volunteers with disabled elderly and Doris gives him lemons from her tree. Knows how to cook a turkey. Unclear if he's homeless or not, usually sleeping on a friend's couch or at a random woman's place (still on the couch)

[honeycombclaire]

You know what I need? I need the Marvel time-travel trope, but everyone goes back to the 40s.

(I say everyone, I mean the Avengers pre-Infinity War.)

Because everyone says Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are men out of time (and they’re not technically wrong). But I want to see the Avengers (sans Steve and Bucky) getting sent back in time by some wizard or a freak Asgardian lightning storm or something, and poof, they’re back in the 40s, right smack in the middle of the war.

I want the Avengers to witness what life was like during the war, hiding in bomb shelters and seeing the after effects of the world crawling out of the Great Depression and hurtling into the second World War in twenty years.

Life when Steve really was the weirdest thing science ever created. When he was desperately needed and internationally adored. Because all of the Avengers have PTSD, but Steve and Bucky went through World War II and got spit back out into the 20th and 21st centuries, and that’s a whole different category of PTSD and trauma.

I want the Avengers to actually meet the survivors of Azzano, when Steve marched into the massive Nazi base and saved hundreds of soldiers, part because he could and part because he was desperate to save his best friend, and didn’t think twice about it.

I want the Avengers to see Steve and Bucky thrive. I want them to witness Steve and Bucky with the Howling Commandos. Steve’s first team. I want them to see how Steve and Bucky lived, what life was like, because it was drastically different than the modern world.

I want the Avengers to witness firsthand life on a military base. I want Tony to have to look his father in the eye and pretend he doesn’t know who he is, but get to see all the good his father did because all he remembers is his father being an asshole. How much Steve really did care about Howard (and that Bucky did, too, because Howard made weapons to keep Steve safe).

I want Natasha to see that just because she’s an assassin doesn’t mean she’s a bad person, because there were hundreds of military assassins and spies during the war that did bad things to get information.

I want them to hear about the Tesseract and learn that sometimes Steve’s intelligence should be taken seriously, because he has experience and knowledge that none of the other Avengers will ever have. (“You should have left it in the water.” “This is the guy my dad never shut up about?”)

I want them to see how much Steve loved Peggy, how she and Bucky were the only ones who saw him for who he really was, and realize how awful it must have been for him to come back and work for the organization she created after his death and have to live without her.

I want them to hide and watch as Past Steve screams as Past Bucky falls from the train. I want them to see Past Steve realize he can’t get drunk, and the only way he can cope is to kill the Red Skull and end HYDRA. To avenge his friend. I want them to realize that not only did Past Steve crash the plane for nothing, but that Steve knows, has to live with that knowledge for the rest of his life.

I want them to listen with Peggy as Past Steve realizes he’s going to have to crash the plane. I want them to hear the slight tremble in Past Steve’s voice as he talks about dancing with Peggy, believing he’ll never get the chance, and that he’s going to die alone in the freezing cold ocean. I want them to not get the change to promise him that he’ll survive. I want them to hear the sudden static that cuts off Past Steve’s voice, and the heavy silence that comes after it.

I want them to see the world mourn for Captain America, who died just months before the war ended.

And then I want them to come back to the 21st century and see. I want them to see the way Steve’s eyes linger on pictures of Peggy and Howard, see the rows of records from the 30s and 40s in a whole new light, see rows of 30s-style clothes in his closet that he hardly ever wears because a lot of people will make jabs about it, see the way he always keeps Bucky in his sight, hugs him just a little bit tighter than he hugs everyone else.

I want them to see the bags under his and Bucky’s eyes when they have nightmares. I want Sam to quietly show them Steve’s list, and see that every line on every page is filled because he missed so much. I want them to find two more little books filled up just as much. I want them to realize how lost Steve still is despite how much he’s adapted.

I want them to see the subtle military training still ingrained in Steve’s bones, because any and every war was horrible, but World War II was something else entirely, and so was desperation that existed within the soldiers and the people. I want them to see Steve’s recklessness of jumping out of planes without a parachute, the way his eyes always scan the area when he enters a room, watching ever little detail and listening for any sound that might indicate danger. How he is always, always, on alert, even when he seems relaxed.

I want them to understand why Steve was so against the Sokovia Accords. It wasn’t because he wanted the power to do what he thought was best; it was because he was afraid of the consequences of having too many restrictions. Because even with international laws and the damn Geneva Convention, the Nazis still destroyed half the world, and decades later Nazi HYDRA was still carrying out their mission that Steve sacrificed his life for. Steve was a human experiment. The Serum was a biochemical weapon. The military broke the rules to protect the greater good, and Steve knew that. The war would have gone very differently without him.

Whether he was right or wrong about the Accords, after what Steve experienced, I want the Avengers finally understand where he was coming from. Why he was so afraid of strict regulations.

I want Tony to finally fully understand the significance of Steve giving up his shield in Siberia.

Why he was so determined to protect Bucky from the world. Not just because he was his best friend, or because it was the right thing to do. But also because Bucky was the only thing Steve physically had left of his life before the crash, save for his dog tags, and he was scared of what that would mean if Steve lost him.

Steve Rogers has so much trauma that Marvel completely ignored. They focused on Tony’s and Bucky’s and Natasha’s trauma; and that’s great, that’s important; but so much of Steve’s moral character doesn’t get explained because it gets glossed over with the excuse that he’s “Mr Good and Righteous.” And that’s true, but that’s just scratching the surface.

He’s Mr. Good and Righteous for a reason, and it doesn’t get talked about enough.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖 "Medically Necessitated" Story Masterlist

Rated: Explicit Pairing: Bucky x Steve Tags: a/b/o, age gap, past rape, rape recovery, pregnancy, trauma recovery, medical trauma, hurt/comfort, mentions of CSA, religious fundamentalism, gender dysphoria Summary: After a medical emergency brings him into the ER, Bucky escapes the religious cult he's been raised in. It's up to Steve, nurse practitioner and omega sex & repro specialist, to see him through a medically supervised heat.

1. Jori 2. Jerrica 3. Bucky 4. Bucky - cont'd 5. Robert Wheeler 6. Fatimah 7. Bucky - cont'd 8. Connor 9. Rebecca 10. Bea

A.N. As per usual, I'm playing with age gap relationships and have thus made the in-universe age of majority 19 instead of 18, to avoid any antis getting their panties (ha! rhymes) in a twist and reporting me to the Tumblr police. Bucky is 18-19, Steve is 31.

Housekeeping:

Trigger Warning: This fic contains occasional mentions of Steve's patients, who deal with issues of csa, sa, abortion, ptsd, and other traumas. Bucky is in the immediate aftermath of a rape at the story's start.

[mostlystuckony]

Maybe we should explore Steve's almost definite trauma associated with planes more idk

[guildofscribes]

I don’t think people get Steve Rogers.

I don’t think they get his responses to what happens in the story told over the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

I especially think that they don’t understand loss.

Let’s take a look at a few of the losses Steve suffered in his life, shall we?

1. Never had a father, never had the chance to have a relationship there, lived through the aftermath.

2. Lost his mother to a horrible illness just as he became an adult in an age where the young aged fast and the chronically infirm were castigated for existing.

3. Lost a highly respected friend he’d found in a most unlikely place with Dr. Erskine.

4. Lost his best friend (brother), in a war that claimed so many friends he’d have made in the bonds of battle, in a terrible and traumatizing way.

5. Then (big kick in the head) he lost the whole world he knew, all of the people, places, daily culture, points of reference, and belongings he could claim.

6. A few years later, he looses so many new friends he’d made in the strange time and place he woke up in, and regains (sort of) one very old, very good friend.

7. A few years later, he loses half of his world, and his best friend again.

8. A few years later, he gets a few friends back, only to lose some of them again.

And this is by no means a complete list. These are just main points.

So tell me, please explain to me, just how his actions in light of all these losses can be so easily downgraded?

This is a man who had been emotionally eviscerated, more than once. His story is overwritten by so much loss.

A sensible reaction to that much continual loss would be to withdraw, to protect the self from losing even more.

Imagine losing so dam much, and then being told that you hadn’t lost enough.

So, will you say again that “how dare he leave and go to Peggy” after all of this wounding?

How dare this man attempt to find solace and healing?

How dare this man try to leave this unending war behind?

How dare this man leave all of his friends behind?

How dare he, indeed.

How dare he attempt to control his own pain?

How dare he seek healing in the way that seems best to him?

How dare he try to make that life he dreamed of “after the war”?

Because when you read what many American soldiers wrote in the time they spent fighting, many of them wrote about what they would do when they got home, how all they wanted was to accomplish the goal and go home, how their focus was getting through each day with the brother at their side and get home, how they missed being home in the place they loved with the people they loved, how the point of their existence was to finish the fight and go home.

How dare a man so hurt, so broken, so brave, try to heal himself?

Maybe I don’t agree with every single thing they did with the character throughout his arc, but really?

You wouldn’t believe the numbers of soldiers that go home after exemplary service in times of war who just want to rest. After everything.

How dare he go home?

[miasmultifandomdump]

Steve Rogers 🤝 Cinderella

Getting hate for being... nice?

[bean-bean2000]

The Hacker - Part 3

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: angst, yelling, self-deprecating thoughts (lbody dismorphia, self-hatred), recall of past traumatic events including physical and mental abuse & murder, guns, depression (suicidal thoughts).

Please note that I am not responsible for what you consume online. proceed at your own caution.

Feedback is welcome and very appreciated!

Part 2 here

Series masterlist

———————————————————————————

You wake up to loud banging on your door and yelling.

“YOU BRAT!! GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!” Steve yells.

You giggle at his anger. You get up and open the door swiftly with a smirk.

“What’s wrong Cap? Couldn’t sleep?”

“What is wrong with you?! Why can’t you just be a quiet nerd that does what she’s told to do? Why can’t you follow simple orders? Why must you always create problems?!”

“Geez Cap, I always took you for a morning person. Who’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Cut that out right now! I know it was you! This never happened until you showed up. What did you want to achieve from this?”

“I’m not property. I am not a soldier. As Tony said, I’m a cyberpunk. A simple ‘Thank you for saving my life’ would have been nice. You’re too high strung and refuse to admit that you were wrong and I was very right for interfering. I will not be your puppet. I am my own person, whether you like it or not! I may be a part of this team, against my own will, but that doesn’t mean you can bark orders at me like a dog!”

“GAH! you’re unbelievable!” Steve says as he stomps away.

You snort and roll your eyes. You head to the kitchen and living room to grab some breakfast; not like you were going to fall back asleep now anyway.

As you walk in you see a certain blue-eyed brooding super soldier sitting at the kitchen island, sipping on coffee.

Your heart skips a beat but you ignore it and walk nonchalantly to the coffee machine.

“Good morning.” you say politely.

Bucky doesn’t reply but you can feel his eyes boring into your back. You turn around slowly and sip on your coffee, staring back at him. You’re not that easily intimidated.

Bucky snorts as a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “You’re something else you know that? Nobody has ever angered Steve like you have.”

“Nobody has treated me as poorly as he has”

Bucky sighs “Give him a chance. He doesn’t understand how to use the TV remote half the time. He’s scared. he doesn’t know how to guide you and lead you during missions. He’s lost when it comes to modern age technology and it’s frustrating him.”

You stare at him as you consider what Bucky has told you.

“Regardless, his behaviour towards me is ridiculous. Considering he’s from the 40’s I expected a bit more chivalry and respect from him. I will make it clear as much as I can and as many times as needed that I am not his dog that he can bark orders at. End of conversation.”

“Wow this generation has really raised some ballsy women.” He says while shaking his head with a smile.

“Is that a problem old man? Want me to be little miss submissive? Running to you every night with a fresh meal on the table and do everything at your bidding?” you reply in a mocking voice.

Bucky gets up from the bar stool and walks towards you, he gently lowers his elbows on the kitchen island and stares at you directly in your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Honestly, I respect you the most out of everyone. You came here, alone and scared, and you still stand your ground, no matter the consequences. You’re confident and self-assured. They underestimated you.”

Your tongue is caught in your throat. His blue eyes are stormy. You swear you can see admiration and pride in his eyes but you quickly look away before you let your body take over and do what you really want to do to him. This is strictly professional. No emotions, you promised yourself.

You clear your throat and back up a bit “I um - i’m going to go to my office and do some stuff…alright bye.” You stammer as you quickly run off before he can stop you.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky watches you runaway with a smile on his face and his heart beating so fast. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt like this for someone. He just met her and feels like he’s known her forever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You run to your office and sit on your chair abruptly. You dim the light, close the shades and turn on the purple LED lights. You let out a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. You embrace the calming atmosphere of your office as you begin to work.

You check your emails and notice a slew of small jobs Tony has delegated to you. Hacking into some servers to retrieve some sensitive information; nothing you haven’t done before. You put your headphones on and blast some music to drown out any background noise and help you focus on finishing the task at hand.

As you’re working through your to do list, you didn’t realize how fast time flew by. The once early morning sun has now set into the late evening. You’re continuously tapping away on your keyboard, your eyes glued to the screens in front you. You’re so hyper focused you don’t realize someone is watching you from the doorframe of your office.

Suddenly you feel a hand squeeze your shoulder. You shriek so hard that your headphones fly off your head and you leap so high out of your chair that it flips over, making you fall backwards to the ground. As you’re trying to get back up, you look to the culprit and see Steve scrambling to help you up. He grabs you by your arms and pulls you up in one swift motion, all while apologizing profusely.

“Oh god I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, are you ok? I was calling your name but you couldn’t hear me so I tried to get your attention.” Steve rambles while analyzing you, looking for injuries.

You sigh a breath of relief and rub your head, already feeling a bump forming from the fall.

“It’s fine Steve. What do you want?” you answer coldly.

“Look, I wanted to apologize. I’m really sorry for how i’ve been acting. I don’t understand a fraction of what you do or how you do it and I have no idea how to lead you through the missions. I was frustrated and took it out on you. It’s not right and I’m sorry.” Steve says, blue eyes boring into yours, swirling with pleading sadness, begging to be forgiven.

“I get it Steve. I do, and I accept your apology. However, you understand that I don’t need guidance right? The internet, hacking, technology in general is my life. All I need from you is to lead, to tell me what to do and when and I’ll do it but if there is something else that I can do to help the team further or save you, I will do it. Whether you like it or not, I know the consequences of my actions and I know what I’m doing. I trust you. The real question is, do you trust me?”

“I— I do. I will. from now, I will trust you and your instincts. I promise. You’re part of the team now and I will treat you as an equal like I treat everyone else.”

“Good. Thank you for being honest with me and clearing this up. Let’s start over.”

“Deal. Thank you Y/N.”

“Just don’t piss me off again or I’ll make it way worse for you than a few simple alarms and blaring red lights in your room as payback.” you smirk at him and wink.

He rolls his eyes and smile “Understood, scouts honour.” He salutes you jokingly and walks out with a quick goodbye.

You decide to call it a night and close up your office for the day. You walk to the kitchen and realize you haven’t eaten all day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you reach the kitchen and start making yourself a quick sandwich you hear footsteps approaching you.

“Hey there Cyberpunk, what are you up too? You disappeared all day today.” Bucky says as he sits next to you on a kitchen bar stool.

“I was working on some things Tony needed. I didn’t realize how time flew by. I haven’t eaten yet so i’m just making a quick snack.”

“You didn’t take a single break? How did you not eat, drink, go to the bathroom?…” Bucky looks at you with a concerned look.

“Um, no, not really. I tend to get really hyper focused on my tasks, especially when my brain is in overdrive. It’s kind of like a coping mechanism. I escape into my own cyber world and I don’t leave until my body basically wakes me up.” You say nonchalantly.

“Well, not anymore. Not on my watch.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” you ask while giggling.

“I have decided to make it my job to make sure that you’re taking enough breaks, eating, drinking water, going outside for some fresh air…”

“You don’t have to do that. I like my little cyber-cave. It’s my space, it’s fine.”

“Doll, you are stubborn.” he chuckles to you as he playfully pushes his shoulder against yours.

You reply with a scoff as you finish making your snack.

"You're too cute to treat yourself like this. Let me take care of you for a bit, I want to help."

You stare at him in disbelief.

Is he... flirting with me? There's no chance James Buchanan Barnes is flirting with me. He's just being nice to me. With women like Natasha around him, there is no way he would even look my way. I'm a freaking nerd, a computer geek that stays indoors all day and hides from the world through the internet. The other women in the compound are gorgeous with the perfect bodies to match. I'm not exactly the most fit, I can't even jog for more than 10 seconds without my lungs hurting. I dress is loose comfortable clothes, my hair is always in either a messy bun or air dried to let its natural pattern go free. I put minimal makeup at most because I'm alone indoors all day. Remember, no emotions. It's all in your head. Focus Y/N. He is just being polite and welcoming as you're a new team member.

Your thoughts are running a mile a minute as Bucky is looking into your eyes, waiting for an answer. You must have been staring at him for too long because Bucky asked you if something was wrong.

"No I um - i'm good. Just exhausted. Long day. Thanks for keeping me company for a bit. I have to go now, bye." you say awkwardly as you grab ur plate of food and scurry to your room.

"Hey, wait where are you going?" Bucky questions as he sees you run off.

You ignore him and quicken your pace. Your heart is racing. You reach your room and close the door behind you as you let out a huge sigh of relief.

Why am I so awkward? Why can't I just have a normal conversation with him? He's too damn gorgeous thats why. How can I not be attracted to him? He's built like a greek god with these captivating blue eyes and that dark hair that you just want to run your fingers through - stop it. No no no stop that right now. If you develop a crush on him, you will only get hurt. You're being delusional. He doesn't like you. Look at yourself.

You stare at yourself in the mirror.

What could he possibly be attracted to? The dark circles under my eyes? My messy hair? My loose fitting clothes that give me no shape whatsoever? It's not like my body is perfect either. I have stretch marks, I'm not fit, I don't have abs by any means, my arms are not muscular or toned, my thighs are large.... I do have a nice ass and some great boobs, I will admit.

Bucky is a man that goes for super model type women. Not computer nerds that eat take out almost religiously and never leave their computer chair except to go to the bathroom. I think the most steps i've done in an entire day is 500. Who am i kidding? Why am I doing this to myself? Just stop. Focus on work, nothing else. This will only lead to more and more heartbreak that I just can't take anymore.

There is so much they don't know about me. They can't know. I've worked so hard to erase it from the world all together, to make myself disappear into thin air, to hardly exist. I know Tony is probably trying to deep dive into my past and find some trace of who I am and where I'm from but I know I've gotten rid of it all years ago and I plan on keeping it that way.

Start of flashback

You're hiding under your desk in your room, shaking as you hear your parents screaming at each other in the kitchen. You had accidentally dropped a plate and it crashed to the floor, pieces flying everywhere which had caused your father to erupt in a rage. He stalked towards you as a slew of insults that have been repeated to you over the years flew from his mouth: worthless, stupid, waste of life, ugly. You name it, he said it.

Taking out his anger on you, leaving you no chance to breathe until your mother pried his hands off of you while screaming for him to stop. As soon as he let go of you, you had run to your room where you're now hiding. You can feel the blood leaking from your nose and lip, one eye almost shut so tight you can hardly see out of it. You grabbed your phone and dialed 911 - terrified as to what your father might do, especially if he found out you had called the cops on him. The first responder tells you to stay where you are and keep the phone open. As you're about to reply, your door swings open and your father storms in. He rips you out from your desk and drags you to the kitchen again. You're too scared to even scream or cry.

He throws you to the floor, on the pieces of glass that remained on the floor from the broken plate you had dropped. The shards cut your hands and knees and crush into your skin. All you can do is lay there and pray that the first responder heard the scene unfold and sent police officers to your address. You're waiting to be saved, you feel helpless as always, you just want to get out.

You watch as your father punches your mother unconscious. You watch in fear as he approaches you and laughs. He tells you that this is all your fault. You watch him pull out his gun and point it as your mother who is laying on the floor lifeless. You scream as you lunge towards him to stop him but it was too late. The shot resonated throughout the tiny apartment with a sharp thud as you jumped him.

You wrestled him with all your might, grabbing a shard of glass from the floor and stabbing it into his thigh. He screamed in agony and cursed at you, punching you hard and sending you flying across the floor. You scramble to get up as you watch him point the gun to you this time. You make a split second decision and duck as you tackle his waist and force him to the ground. Wrestling again, you manage to grab the gun that is pointed at you and turn it the other way, facing your fathers chest directly. You look him in the eye as you tell him that his reign of terror has ended and you pull the trigger. You keep pulling the trigger until you hear the gun click.

You get up and look at yourself, covered in blood. Your father’s lifeless body laying there in a pool of his own blood. You hear the sirens and realize what you've done. You have to get out, now.

You grab everything you can and you run. You wash your hands, arms and chest in a pond in the forest you ran into and changed your clothes. Grabbing a pair of scissors in your bag you cut your hair to change your appearance. You take one look back at your apartment, now covered with flashing red and blue lights. You turn around and head into the forest, never looking back again.

You had found yourself in a homeless shelters for 4 years. Continuously dying your hair different colours and moving around from shelter to shelter. You had to because you were too recognizable, with a deep scar slashing across your lip and multiple scars littering the plans of your hands- a final gift from your father. When you couldn’t find a new shelter to stay at, the alleys outside were your best bet. Stealing food from trash cans and people’s lunches when they weren’t paying attention is how you survived. Keeping your appearance hidden and constantly different is how you evaded the cops. You were a missing person and a person of interest in the case of your parents. You had to get out of here to make it out alive. You decide to hop on a train and never look back.

When you woke up to the train halting to a stop. You look outside and realize you’re now in New York. You jump off the train and make your way to the city.

One day, at another random shelter, you met someone who ended up teaching you your way around computers. One thing led to another and you were a cyber whiz with an online community, making money off of rich assholes by hacking into their bank accounts and stealing some money they would never even notice was missing. You managed to get yourself a small shitty apartment, but you welcomed it as anything is better than the streets and shelters.

Once you were settled in a makeshift homb- the same home which the Avengers gracefully kidnapped you from - you decided you had to find a way to kill the old you and let the new you stay hidden.

You figured out a way to erase yourself from the world. You hacked into the government system and erased all documents pertaining to you; your birth certificate, medical records, dental records, school enrollments; everything. You manufactured one item and left it in the system for good measure; a death certificate. Nobody would search for a dead girl.

End of Flashback

You don't notice that you've sunken to the floor, shaking as you bring your knees up to your chest. Sobbing quietly as the horrific memory haunts your mind. You beg to whoever and whatever is listening to you for forgiveness. You beg to have your life taken from you. Your fathers dying words replaying in your mind forever: Worthless, stupid, waste of life.

Maybe he's right.

You hold yourself tighter as you continue crying, balled up on the floor until you fell asleep from exhaustion.

———————————————————————————-

Part 4

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@unaxv

@winterslove1917

[hainethehero]

A JOSS WHEDON HATER FOREVER- a think piece on how Avengers 1 set up Steve Rogers to be the MCU's punching bag for the rest of the franchise

(We all know Joss Whedon is an absolute garbage person. He's done many horrible things including being a racist, sexist moron who should be behind literal bars.) This is a commentary on his absolute shit writing for Avengers 1.

This one particular scene and the one following it is purely poor writing & direction for the character of Steve Rogers.👇

After Coulson dies, Fury addresses Steve and Tony and tosses Coulson's bloodied Captain America cards at Steve. He says something like "guess you never found the time to sign them" which is just horribly cruel and though not OOC for Fury, is not something he'd say lightly. We later realize here👇

...that he's secretly trying to put together the team. This is where he makes his big "there was an idea" speech and mentions that "Stark knows this." Because yeah, Tony was made aware of this in Iron Man 1 when Coulson visited and told Pepper. In contrast, Steve had no idea about the Avengers Initiative.

In fact, the dude was just pulled from the Valkyrie in the ice!! In the beginning scene of Avengers 1, we see him at the gym with the punching bag having LITERAL WAR FLASHBACKS about Bucky and Peggy and the Howlies! He's not stable and yet Fury confronts him and ropes him into the mission to get the Tesseract. Steve says, "you should've left it where you found it." And I can't help but think that maybe Steve means himself as well because dude just lost EVERYONE & EVERYTHING he literally knew and cared about.

Anyway, back to the point, Steve knows nothing about the Initiative but is suddenly made to feel guilty about Coulson's death in some kind of roundabout way of "convincing him to join the team" in honor of Coulson.

And then, to make matters WORSE, in the next scene they make HIM comfort Tony 👇

They make him say, "im sorry" (like it was his fault???!) and "he was just doing his job" and "is this the first time you've lost a soldier?" LIKE WTAF???

*INSERTS JACOB ELORDI MEME FROM EUPHORIA SAYING WHAT THE FUCKKKKK?!*

First of all, Steve barely knows these people! Second, he was fond of Coulson and I'm sure they would've been close friends. But did they have to GUILT-TRIP Steve into joining the team? Like, that's just dumb and proves that they don't actually give a fuck about his character!

AND TALK ABOUT MEAN! Fury at least knew about Steve losing Bucky on that train. He KNOWS Steve's first words when he woke up from sleep was "I had a date" reflecting the tragedy of the man out of time. To just rip him out of sleep and thrust him into a mission and later making him feel guilty about Coulson was just pure cruelty, making SHIELD no better than HYDRA. They all saw Steve as a pawn, another mindless soldier to carry out their missions and I hate JW for that.

Steve's character was not accurately portrayed nor was his trauma properly dealt with and so this is why today, we see alot of MCU "fans" calling Steve the worst avenger, lame, boring and basically a crutch to Tony's genius. (I'm a huge Tony Stark fan, don't @ me). It just felt that the mcu wanted to make Tony the ultimate hero- which is fine, Nothing's wrong with that- but they did it at the expense of Steve's character and trauma.

Sadly, this narrative continues all the way down to Endgame and for that I will always hate JW & the mcu's portrayal of Steve Rogers.

[hurtcomforted]

thank you fanfiction, for making me realize that bucky falling from the train and tony falling from the sky was like a few months apart at best for steve

[yourtearsaremyink]

It's Just This Once

Chapter 1

Hey everyone! This is my first post. This work is finished but I will be uploading the chapters weekly. (I don't really know how Tumblr works so if y'all have suggestions or tips let me know)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Not many. Bucky and his PTSD, my life choices to write this, nightmares, Bucky's regret and self hatred. Idk. There's not even language in this thing its mostly fluff.

Summary: Y/N is an Avenger, she has healing powers and uses them to patch up the rest of the team. Bucky never asks her to use her healing powers on him, except once.

Chapter Word Count: 1,912

Chapter 1: Take the Pain Away

Y/N was working in her little corner of the medical wing of the newly built Avengers Compound. All was right in her little world, well as right as her world could be since reappearing after a five year absence. 

Everyone was trying their hardest to go back to normal but adapting to a life without Steve, Tony, and Natasha was far from it. Shortly before Tony and Steve's fallout, Y/N was recruited by Fury to join the Avengers Initiative. He had somehow figured out she was an enhanced and convinced her to join the team. She had hid her abilities so well in the past she had no idea how a man she had never met before found out about them. Y/N had the extraordinary ability to heal others, it had taken an insane amount of time, energy, and focus to master her powers. With the help of Wanda she had also been able to unlock another talent. She had intuition that was insanely on point so she could guide her teammates on their missions. Natasha had taught her some martial arts moves and Steve taught her how to protect herself in a fight. Y/N soon became part of the family and finally found a place where she belonged, but after a few billion people came back from nothingness, her family seemed to narrow down. She had fought in the battle against Thanos and tried, had really tried, to heal Tony with her powers but in the end it wasn't enough. She couldn't help but feel a little responsible for his death. When the battle was over and Steve left to be with the love of his life, he left so many friends behind. If Y/N couldn't heal Tony's physical wounds, maybe she could heal the emotional wounds he and Steve left behind. 

Shortly after the battle she became close with the remaining Avengers. She helped guide Sam on missions as the new Captain America, she comforted Wanda after her little outburst in Westview, she even got to know Bucky a bit more. Sam had convinced him to live at the new Compound with him instead of being alone in an old apartment in Brooklyn. Every so often Sam and Bucky would limp into the med bay in need of healing. She had healed Sam several times and Wanda a few but never Bucky. He always said she shouldn't waist her energy on him, and she always replied with, "It's no trouble at all, it doesn't take that much energy." Bucky would brush it off and say his advanced healing would take care of his injuries in no time. She never really pushed it, considering what he's been through with people messing with his body, it didn't surprise her when he didn't want to be helped.

Today was nothing unusual when Sam came into the med bay with an arm around Bucky and the other around his side. Y/N hopped up from the seat at her desk and began walking to the two men.

"What did you do this time?"

"This idiot took a bullet for me." Bucky spoke up as he helped Sam into a bed.

"Hey don't be mad at me for saving your life." Sam snapped back. He was taking off part of his uniform so Y/N could assess the injury properly.

"I have better healing than you, I would have been just fine." Bucky countered.

"I'll be fine! I have the best healer in the world right here, right doc?" Sam shot a quick smirk at Y/N as she started to heal him. A light purple glow emitted from her hands as she closed the wound on Sam's torso.

"Just because I can heal you in seconds doesn't mean you can be reckless."

Sam's smirk faded as Bucky gave a short "Ha" in victory. Y/N noticed Bucky was holding his left arm with his right and had a few bruises on his face.

"I could always heal you too Bucky if you need it."

"It's fine doll, these bruises will be gone in a couple hours." He said as he gestured to his face. Y/N turned her attention back to Sam as she finished up her work.

"All done." She said as she removed her hands. "Go clean up, Wanda and I are making dinner soon."

She grabbed a cloth and wiped some of the blood off her hands.

"You're the best doc. " Sam gave her a quick hug and headed out with Bucky. As they left she saw how tight the muscles in Bucky's were. With all of the experience Y/N had with healing people, she was able to see how much he was hurting. It could just be the stress of the mission so she didn't think much of it. 

Later that evening while Y/N was cooking with Wanda, she once again noticed Bucky. At this point she couldn't tell if it was just stress or flat out pain. Sam was tapping away at his laptop sending a report on the mission to Fury. He didn't seem to notice the tight expression Bucky was wearing. Bucky was absentmindedly rubbing his left shoulder where metal met flesh, he looked exhausted.

"You good Buck?"

He glanced up at her removing his hand from his shoulder and said,

"Yeah, I'm fine. " with a half hearted smile.

She hoped that a warm meal would help. Y/N loved to cook, especially with Wanda, she loved seeing people's faces when they ate the food she made. Pretty much everyone else was away from the compound so it was just the four of them. Wanda had suggested they make soup since Autumn came out of nowhere and settled in New York. They set the table and listened to Sam talk about the mission he and Bucky had just endured. Bucky let Sam do all the talking for once and kept quite happily enjoying the warm food. The creases in his features slowly melted away as he finished the soup. Once the story was finished and the dining room was cleaned up, everyone said their goodnights and started off to their rooms, all expect Y/N.

"You're not going to sleep?" Wanda had asked when she saw Y/N going towards the elevator instead of her room.

"I have some work left to finish since I was so rudely interrupted earlier." She had turned her head to Sam with a smile.

"Hey don't come at me." He said with his hands up in a surrendering gesture as he walked to his room.

She gave a small laugh, "Goodnight guys." 

Y/N headed down to her lab and picked up where she left off. She was running some lab work on some blood samples when she heard thunder shake the building. It startled her enough for her to nearly drop her test tube. Soon after she heard rain begin to pound on the walls of the Compound. She glanced at the clock as it struck 1:00 am.

"Just a little longer." She whispered as she resumed her work. 

Bucky was sitting in his bed when he heard Thunder boom outside his window. He hadn't slept since coming to his room, too stressed from the mission and in too much pain. He knew the rain was coming, he felt it in his bones, but that didn't make it any less unsettling. He truly felt like an old man knowing rain was coming by the way his prosthetic arm felt. The mission had caused a few unpleasant memories to resurface and that made his mind uneasy. All of that combined together resulted in a dull headache and an unbearable amount of phantom pain in his left arm. His shoulder was throbbing and it felt as if he was being stabbed by a hundred needles where his metal arm occupied where his flesh should be. His breathing was laboured and heavy, he was so close to a panic attack it wasn't even funny. The weather hadn't helped either, it made him feel cold and achey. He tried so hard to keep it together but the pain became too much. He needed relief and there was one person he could think of to help. He hated the idea of Y/N using her healing powers on him when she could use them for something much more valuable. He didn't want to inconvenience her with his pain but it was becoming agonizing. He sat and thought it over for a few more minutes when he finally caved and made his way down to her lab. He stood at the door and sighed,

"It's just this once."

Y/N was just about finished when she heard a small knock at the lab entrance. She got up and walked towards the door, she wasn't expecting to see Bucky when she opened it. He stood with his hand clutching his metal shoulder, his hair was unkempt and he had bags under his eyes.

"Hey, I thought you went to bed. Is everything okay?"

"Uh, not really. I hate to ask you this, especially this late, but-"

Suddenly thunder echoed through the lab and Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and his breath began to shake, using his hand to add more pressure to his shoulder.

"My shoulder hurts, and my arm too kinda." He looked down not wanting to meet her eyes.

"Like phantom pain?" She questioned

"Y-yeah, it feels like pins and needles. The vibranium feels heavy."

"Are you asking me to help you?" She asked in disbelief.

"I-if you don't want to that's fine I can manage."

"No, no come in, sit down."

She led him to one of the beds and guided his hand off his shoulder, eager to work on the one person she hadn't helped.

He winced in pain as he moved, his hand letting up the pressure it was omitting on his upper arm.

"Sorry," she stepped back for a second, "I need you to take off your shirt." In the dimly lit lab she could see him blush a little. "It'll be better if I have direct contact to the skin."

He complied, slowly and painfully taking off his blue Henley. She walked around to the side of the bed to begin.

"I'm just going to put my hands on your shoulder, okay?"

He gave a very tight nod and she began. Her hands danced across the mess of scar tissue where metal crept into his skin. She couldn't help but felt bad for what Hydra did to him. His breath hitched but his back slowly became more relaxed. She could feel his heart rate slowing and his breath even out.

"I'm halfway done, are you okay? " she was concerned. She had never been able to do this for Bucky before and didn't know how he'd react.

"Mhmm." he seemed content.

She stopped and moved to his front to place her hands on his collar bone. She tried not to make it too awkward by making eye contact but she glanced up anyway and met his blue eyes. They both quickly looked away and Y/N turned her attention back to his arm. She stopped when she felt she couldn't do anything more to help with the pain.

"Done, does that feel better?"

He immediately brought her in for a hug and whispered a quite,

"Thank you."

She hugged back happily,

"You're welcome."

It gets better I promise. It was originally a one shot but it evolved.

[cloudbells]

There's something so fascinating about people who don't understand that Steve, by AV1, is in his 20s. No, those 70 years don't "technically count". He has zero lived experience for those years in the ice. It's like if someone from the 1940s hopped in a time machine to 2012 - You wouldn't claim that person is 70 years older, would you? It's the exact same for Steve. No time has passed for him. He closed his eyes in the 40s and opened them in 2012. How is there still confusion about this?

[sjsmith56]

The Gilded Age, Part 3 - Courtship

Summary: A bouquet of lilacs, symbolizing early love, is sent to Amelia, where a secret admirer professes his love. Proposing to meet through an intermediary, Amelia agrees. Everything seems to be going well, until a man from both their pasts suddenly appears.

Length: 5.5 K

Characters: Avengers, Amelia, James Buchanan Barnes, John Walker.

Warnings: John Walker opening his big mouth, description of physical and psychological abuse, revelation of closely guarded secret.

Author notes: Remember this is an AU story. However, I have retained many of the customs of the time involving dating. Even with her liberal upbringing, Amelia is still quite naive. Barnes, as a gentleman, will respect her reputation and strive to keep their public encounters appropriate for the time period. Alvan Clark made telescopes were among the finest made at that time. Several of the larger models are still in use today. In researching court-martials in the US Army, the information for that time period frequently conflicted. I wrote the judgement to suit the plot. Divider by vecteezy.com.

<<Part 2

Part 3 - Courtship

The aftermath of the altercation with HYDRA was dealt with in the days after the events of that evening. Clues had been missed, but considering the notice had been given late, it was understandable. Secretary of State Fury, who visited the Society personally the next day, took the blame for that, while denigrating himself for not providing the cavalry to back them up from the beginning. They did inflict damage on the enemy, interrupting and even damaging their operations enough for the dark organization to slink back into the inky waters of anonymity for a time. The mission confirmed that the owner of the docks, Wilson Fisk, by day a supposedly well-respected member of the New York business community, was involved with HYDRA, although any evidence that could be used to prosecute him either disappeared or was destroyed. The Avengers own ground support team, led by Mr. Hogan, suffered no fatalities, although there were several injured by gunshot wound or sword wounds. Young Peter's vigilante acquaintance, who the citizens living in Hell's Kitchen referred to as The Daredevil, had been there, helping in the clash. He sent word that he would keep an eye on the docks, utilizing his own network of people who lived in the underbelly of that locale. Their mutual friend, a blind lawyer by the name of Matthew Murdock, visited to assure himself that Peter would recover, sitting with the young man as he was confined to his room for the week. His Aunt May and her maid / companion, Mary Jane, also visited which bolstered the young man's spirits considerably.

Clint and Vision concerned themselves with looking after their beloved ladies, Natasha and Wanda. Both men doted on them, making sure the two women were comforted in every way possible. Dr. Banner did not return to the headquarters of the Society for two days, although it appeared that Hogan and his men were able to keep track of him. Apparently, the doctor was upset at himself that his other being, the green hulking giant, had only presented itself for a brief time during the heat of the battle then had inexplicably retreated. Banner, ashamed of what he saw as his failure, went on a bit of a bender. When he finally passed out in a tavern that had been paid to watch for him, Hogan went to retrieve him and bring him back to the safety of the Society headquarters. No one ever confronted the man about it, or even mentioned it in passing. Amelia, still getting used to the routine in the building, took it to mean that it had happened before and would likely happen again. Since the good doctor was already hard on himself about it, it wasn't seen as helpful for anyone else to be.

As for Amelia, it seemed that the intimate experience of providing medical treatment to Sergeant Barnes, signalled the beginnings of an increased awareness between them, at least it seemed that way to several of the others. Captain Rogers, who admitted to Sam Wilson that he considered beginning a courtship with the young librarian, noticed it first. Every time Amelia and Barnes were in the same room together, she glanced the Sergeant's way and smiled, while he conducted himself in a gentle manner around her person. Small acts of service, such as pulling out her chair for her, or getting a book from the top shelf, then gazing at her from a distance were apparently how Barnes expressed his interest in this particular member of the fairer sex. As exasperating as it was for the Captain to be relegated to the side, he was also happy for his friend, knowing that since Barnes was rescued from the clutches of HYDRA, the man had shunned any romantic entanglements.

Ten days after the altercation with HYDRA, everyone was in the common area of the 21st floor. It was a beautiful spring day, and the morning sun shone through the large windows, making the space feel warm and inviting. Natasha, although still not wearing a corset was well enough to dress and leave the confines of the apartment she shared with her fiancé. She and Clint looked at images of Paris in the stereoscope, contemplating a visit there for their honeymoon. Rogers, Wilson, Thor and Loki were playing billiards. Wanda played the piano, while Vision sat next to her and turned the pages of the music sheets. Peter was writing a letter, while Mr. and Mrs. Stark worked together on a word cross puzzle in the newspaper. Dr. Banner, Sergeant Barnes, and Amelia were all reading a book. Hogan called up from the lobby to say that a bouquet of flowers had been delivered for Miss Winston. Instructed to bring it up, everyone perked up when he walked in carrying a large bouquet of purple lilacs, placing it on the table next to Amelia, then leaving.

"Someone has declared himself," said Natasha, knowingly. "Purple lilacs symbolize early love. Who are they from?"

Amelia opened the card and read silently what was written. You have captured my heart. This is but the first of many expressions of my ardour for you. If you would but grant me the honour of your company at a time and place of your choosing, please send a message through Mr. Hogan. He will be discreet for both of us. I am at your mercy, sweet Amelia.

She looked up at everyone. "It isn't signed. But it appears I have an admirer."

Leaning close to the flowers, she breathed in deeply, her face taking on a dreamy expression. Without delay she stood up, picked up the vase and left, presumably to take the flowers to her apartment. Everyone returned back to their amusements, except for Captain Rogers who noticed his friend, Sergeant Barnes still looking in the direction of Amelia's departure. After the small pang of loss he felt at being too late in declaring his own interest in her, Rogers hoped this bold step, taken by his longtime friend, would lead to lasting happiness for both of them.

It was another two days, before Amelia requested permission to leave the Society headquarters for personal reasons. Both Mr. and Mrs. Stark, who she directed her request to, smiled at her as she stood hopefully before them.

"You do not have to request permission to conduct your own life," stated Mr. Stark. "You are a grown woman, after all. Your hours of employment are not set in stone, since like all of us here you are available for any task at any hour. Go, take what time you need and enjoy yourself."

With a smile and nod thanking them, Amelia returned to her apartment and placed a straw boater hat on her head, securing it with a hatpin. She secured a short jacket around her upper body, then checked her small pocketbook, ensuring there was enough money to return home on the subway if she became stranded. For a moment, she hesitated at the thought that in less than two weeks she was already thinking of this building as home, but it was. Other than the intensity of that first night when she was thrown into the figurative fire of being a nurse tending to the injured, she had felt safe and secure here. The people in the building had become dear to her, almost as dear as her own father and brother. If her secret admirer was one of them, it could signal the start of a turning point in her life, one that she was eager to experience, having never being in love before. Satisfied with her appearance she left her apartment and took the elevator down to the lobby. Hogan was there and came out the door with her to help her into a waiting hansom cab.

"I was going to take the subway," she protested.

"No, Miss Winston, the gentleman was emphatic that you take the safety of a cab as New York can be dangerous. He has engaged one to return you back here as well." He persisted, leaving her no choice but to take his hand as she stepped into the interior. He looked at the driver. "Drop off the young lady as close as possible to the boathouse in Central Park."

The driver touched his cap and with a short command from his lips, set off in the direction of the large green space, already famous for its location in the middle of the large metropolis. Sitting inside the cab, Amelia watched the life of the city pass by her, as the route went through several neighbourhoods. When it finally stopped and the driver dismounted to help her out, he pointed in the direction she had to walk for a short distance. With thanks to him, she set off and approached the lake, where boaters and gondolas were already in abundance on the blue green waters. Approaching the spot where she agreed to meet her admirer she waited only a short moment, then heard footsteps behind her.

"You came," said a familiar voice that set her heart racing. "I was afraid you would change your mind."

Turning around to look up into the face of Sergeant Barnes, whose soft gaze at her couldn't disguise the emotion the man was feeling, she smiled.

"I hoped it was you," she answered. "No one else has me thinking of them as much as you do ... James."

"Amelia," he responded, "dearest, sweetest Amelia. How I've longed to hear my name from your lips and to say those words to you."

Offering her his arm, he placed his other hand on hers briefly when she took it, as they began strolling through the park. Sergeant Barnes, until this moment, had never thought he could live a life like this, of walking openly in public with a sweetheart, not consumed with dread over whether he was recognized and avoided as something distasteful. In the years since he was rescued from HYDRA, he had lived a mostly reclusive life, staying indoors at the Society headquarters, reading, tinkering with Anthony Stark in the basement on the engines they both were fascinated with, occasionally observing the night sky through the six-inch Alvan Clark refractor telescope in the small observatory on the roof, or improving his marksmanship skills in the firing range also located in the basement. Almost all of his excursions were when they went on missions, mostly at night. It was a lonely existence, made bearable only by the patience and understanding of his colleagues. From the moment he was introduced to Amelia, it seemed like a curtain had been drawn back, letting in the bright light of life. Although she was considerably younger than him, being with her just felt right, as her warmth and zest for knowledge and enjoyment, provided what he had been missing for so long. Every fibre of his being longed to not just cherish and protect her, but also to support her as she explored all that life had to offer. He meant every word of what he told Samuel Wilson; that a woman like her should stand next to her man as his equal, not as a subordinate. If he was so fortunate to win her hand, he would spend a lifetime making sure of that.

A small kiosk was set up with small bags of food for the ducks in another pond. Reaching into his pocket, Sergeant Barnes withdrew a nickel to purchase one, and they approached the water. Opening it to her, he watched as her small, gloved hand dipped in, coming back out with dried corn and peas. She tossed her fare into the water, sweeping her hand in an arc to reach as great an area as possible. More ducks hurried in as they realized food was at hand and she reached in again, scattering the food to feed many of them, at least with a small morsel. He watched her face, as she frowned at some of the ducks attempting to prevent others from reaching the floating meal.

"Even though I try to scatter it to as many as possible there are always some who want the food all for themselves," she stated, reaching her hand inside the bag again. "It must be innate in most species, not just humans."

"Yet, humans are capable of the greatest tenderness and sacrifice," he answered. "Our intellect and reason make us humane. I wish we could witness it more."

Amelia looked up at him, seeing a moment of painful remembrance on his brow, then he smiled softly at her and checked inside the bag, noticing it was almost empty. Turning it over he emptied the contents into her waiting hands and smiled as she tossed the food away from her, then brushed her hands together to remove the crumbs. A passing breeze had blown a small fleck of dried food onto her face and he gestured with his right hand to remove it. Looking up at him again, she gazed into his blue eyes as he gently brushed the fleck off her cheek. For a long moment, his hand stayed there as if he wished to cup her cheek in his palm. Then the moment passed, and he dropped his hand, before offering his arm to her again, as their walk resumed.

"May I ask you a personal question?"

She glanced up at Sergeant Barnes, hoping he was amenable to the request.

"You may."

"How old are you?"

"I turned 33 on March 10 of this year," he answered, then continued speaking. "My father fought in the Civil War, for the north, and was anxious to start his family upon his mustering out. I am the oldest of four children. The others are sisters, ranging in age from 23 to 31, all of them but the youngest married with children of their own. She is being courted by a serious young man who will not ever say no to her."

"Were you ever married?"

"No, I enjoyed the company of several women when I was younger but never entered into a formal courtship with any of them. I had decided to join the military and felt certain that the life was not one favourable to the formation of a family. Although I still wear the uniform, as officially I am on secondment to the Society, I now live as a civilian." He glanced down at her. "Your turn, Amelia."

She blushed and smiled. "I am 24, and you already know I have a father and brother. My mother died when I was five years of age, of scarlet fever. My father never remarried, choosing to devote himself to raising my brother and me while practising law. I graduated from the Armour Institute in Chicago with a diploma in library science, as it was one of the fields where a woman could be successful in her own right. I worked at the public library in Chicago until I received a letter from Mr. Stark six weeks ago, asking if I was interested in this position." She smiled a little. "He wasn't fully forthright in what it would entail, grouping my additional responsibilities under that heading, with the caveat "as needed," but I have no regrets. I feel very energized by my position. In fact, I was just thinking before I left that I am very much at home there."

"I'm glad," replied Sergeant Barnes. "I was concerned about you on that first evening. It was a harsh introduction to your other responsibilities, but you were steadfast, and I admired you for it."

For a moment, Amelia looked away, then she returned her gaze back at him. "When did you know? About how you felt about me?"

"Almost from the moment I met you. Definitely when we worked on the cryptograms together. You were so focused but I had a hard time doing the same. I think the actual moment was when you were tending to my injury. Every part of me wanted to hold you in my arms, and convince you that it would be alright, since I was there with you and would be whenever you needed me. Of course, that would have been highly inappropriate considering the brevity of our acquaintance and the lack of clothing on my part."

She breathed out quickly then stopped. "I wouldn't have been offended. The gesture would have been welcomed."

This time he did rest his fingertips on her cheeks, regarding her with intensity.

"You are too kind to trifle with me. Would you entertain the possibility of me formally courting you? My intentions are honourable. I have never felt this way before and every part of me longs to be near you, always."

"I would like that," she replied. "Although my father has encouraged me to make my own decisions, I would like you to meet him, and put forth your request to him in person, out of respect. He has already written that he is coming to New York within a fortnight to meet with a gentleman who requires representation for building a factory in Illinois. Until then, would you be offended if we kept our future assignations private?"

For a brief flicker of time, he was disappointed at her caveat, but she was correct. Given the difference in their social status, it was a prudent request. In this matter, he would defer to her.

"I agree that we should keep this private for now. It will be difficult to keep a neutral attitude towards you as a colleague, but I will endeavour to do so."

"We can still meet, James," she smiled. "If Mr. Hogan is amenable to continue assisting us, I'm sure we can find a way to meet privately without the others being in the know regarding our intentions."

He laughed. "You're aware we are a society of spies. Being in the know is part of our job. They will find out."

"Then let them enjoy the hunt while we lead them on a merry chase."

How her face lit up at that declaration, a look that filled him with elation. She was truly a formidable woman. When he returned her to the spot where the hansom cab was already waiting, he helped her up into the interior. Removing her glove from her right hand she offered it to him. He removed his glove to take it, then bent over her hand to kiss the soft skin of her fingers. Their eyes met and stayed on each other as the cab pulled away to return her to the Society headquarters. Ten minutes later, Barnes hailed his own cab, and spent the entire ride home feeling happier than he had in a long time.

In the interval since that first meeting, they had managed to meet privately three times. Their next meeting was attending the opera together in a private box that afforded them anonymity to the other patrons. During an emotional rendition of a romantic aria between the soprano and tenor performers in the third act, Amelia linked her fingers with his. The sublime look on her face during the performance would stay with Sergeant Barnes forever. Even though their hands were gloved it was confirmation that their attachment was fated to be. Once again, he kissed her bare hand in farewell when he sent her home ahead of him.

Their subsequent encounter found them enjoying dinner together in a private dining room followed by dancing to a string quartet provided just for them. With both of them in evening dress, the Sergeant found himself entranced by the shape of her shoulders revealed by the cut of her gown. Her natural beauty was almost hypnotic in its power over him. When he offered her his hand to dance, he couldn't quite believe she was in his arms, gazing into his eyes while he maneuvered her around the small dance space. It took all of his discipline not to kiss her fully on the lips, as he wasn't sure he could stop.

Their most recent rendezvous was spent riding in Central Park on this warm Sunday afternoon. For the latter meeting, she arrived with her long hair loose down her back, wearing a skirt split in such a way that she could ride her horse western style. It was very daring of her to wear that style of skirt, and wear her hair down like that, but Sergeant Barnes appreciated the practicality of her clothing. As for her long locks, he longed to run his hands through the silken tresses, despite the inappropriateness of such a display in a public setting. Removing his own hat, he left it at the stable. They rode as closely together as they could, enjoying each other's company, not realizing a storm cloud was approaching their sunny vista. Deciding to rest their horses, Sergeant Barnes dismounted, then grasped Amelia around her waist, effortlessly lifting her down to the ground. In the process she placed her hands on his chest, an act considered almost inappropriate for an unmarried couple, even though they were unofficially courting. As neither wanted the moment to end they didn't move. Instead, they enjoyed the close interlude.

"Amelia Winston, what are you doing in New York?" said a man's voice and she turned to see someone she never expected to see again.

"John Walker. I live and work here now for SHIELD."

Immediately, Sergeant Barnes whole body stiffened, and he turned towards the other man, who also stiffened when he recognized the Avenger.

"Sergeant Barnes."

"Lieutenant Walker."

"I'm not in the cavalry, anymore, Barnes. I'm a U.S. Agent with the Secret Service." Walker looked from one to the other. "You are courting? With him?"

"It really isn't your business, is it Mr. Walker?" Anger flashed briefly on Amelia's face. "You made it very clear in Chicago that my family's wealth and connections weren't enough to warrant your attention."

He hummed a little. "But Barnes ... you do know about him, right?"

"I think you've said enough," stated Sergeant Barnes, darkly. "Good day, Agent Walker."

Grasping the reins of both horses with one hand and taking Amelia's arm in his other, he turned to leave but Walker's voice reached them both.

"Does she know what you did, Barnes? Is she aware of your court-martial?"

She looked up at him. "What is he talking about, James?"

He kept walking until she pulled her arm out of his and stopped. With a sigh, he turned back to her.

"Please, let's return the horses to the stable and I will explain but I won't do it here, not where anyone can listen as it is a private matter."

"But you were court-martialed? Why did you not tell me before?"

"Amelia, please, not here. Back at the Society. Captain Rogers will verify what I tell you. I beg you to indulge me on this."

He waited, pleading with his eyes for her to accompany him back to the stable. With a nod, she walked towards him but wouldn't put her arm in his. For the five minutes it took to reach the stable, they didn't speak. All that Sergeant Barnes could think of was that it was over. Once he told her, she would have nothing to do with him and he couldn't blame her. From the stable they walked to the hansom cab stand and both of them got in. Again, they didn't speak, and the tension grew between them. The trip back seemed to take forever with Barnes feeling more and more ill as they got closer to their destination. Several times, Amelia looked at him with concern, but he was so lost in his misery that he didn't notice.

"Why are you sharing a cab together?" asked Hogan, when he stepped forward to open the cab door. "What's wrong?"

"Walker," stated Barnes and he went to the door, then turned to Amelia. "Please."

She nodded and went through the door ahead of him. As soon as they entered the lobby Hogan phoned up to the 21st floor.

"John Walker has appeared," he stated. "Sergeant Barnes is quite perturbed. Miss Winston is with him and is also unhappy. I surmise that Walker is the cause."

By the time they got up to the 21st floor almost everyone was there. Looking from face to face in confusion, Amelia wondered what was so dire that everyone felt compelled to be there. Mrs. Stark stepped forward and took Amelia's hand in hers.

"Exactly what did John Walker say?"

She related the short conversation, surprised when the others swore openly.

"What is going on? Why would he say such a thing? Is it true that James was court-martialed? Please, I need to know."

From where he sat, with his head in his hands, Sergeant Barnes looked up, pure agony on his face.

"I told you about my being a prisoner of HYDRA. I wasn't the only one."

"Yes, you already said Captain Rogers was taken."

"So was Lieutenant John Walker," said Mr. Stark. "He was taken at the same time as Buck, but he made no attempt to escape, find the Sergeant or rescue him, even though he was uninjured. When Captain Rogers was taken and transformed with those injections, he immediately realized his strength would allow him to escape but he wasn't going without Buck. By the time he got to a fort with him, having carried him in his arms for miles, Walker was already there ahead of them. He accused Buck of cooperating with HYDRA, of performing an act so cruel that he should be shot at once."

"He was in no condition to do anything when I found him," said Rogers. "He didn't know up from down, yesterday from today, or even who I was. He couldn't walk and the arm they put on him was like a lead weight, weighing him down. What Walker accused him of wasn't possible. He said Buck attacked a farmhouse where women and children were taking refuge from the range wars and killed them with his bare hands. He didn't do it. I know Buck, like a brother. He wouldn't do such a thing. But Walker had connections, high up in the military and they arrested Buck. Secretary of State Fury was our colonel then and he agreed that it was impossible given the condition he was found in to perform that act of savagery. Despite Walker's insistence on a summary judgement, Fury was able to delay it so that medical treatment could be sought for him."

"Even then they treated me like an animal," said Barnes, staring blankly ahead of him, as if he was reliving it once more. "Shackled at my wrists and ankles, dragged by my elbows and thrown into a paddy wagon. I was placed in a prison first, beaten and starved. It took an intervention by the President himself on appeal by my mother to release me to a medical hospital where Dr. Banner was working." He looked at the doctor, smiling wanly at him. "I will never forget his kindness as he helped me. It was him who told me what those injections did to me based on his study of my blood."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Amelia's eyes were glassy. "I would have believed you."

"Then you would have been one of the few. My fate was to be decided by three high ranking officers, Colonel Fury, General Alexander Pierce, and General Howard Stark, Anthony's father. A friend of Fury's, Colonel Rhodes, represented me. He was magnificent, calling in Dr. Banner and Steve, other men from our unit to provide character references, even calling in a HYDRA prisoner that had been taken to verify that I was unable to do what they said I did. He took one look at the tribunal, grasped a gun from the guard and shot himself in the head. Right there, in front of all of us."

"Captain Rumlow was the prosecuting officer and he brought in other HYDRA prisoners that said Buck did it, but you knew they were lying. They were terrified." Rogers sat next to Barnes and placed his arms around his shoulders. "I wasn't going to let them railroad the judgment. I was prepared to break into the prison and take him out of the country if I had to. Then Rumlow offered a deal. Buck plead guilty to one count of accidental death, accept a sentence of one-year hard labour and he would be free. They went from a summary execution to a one-year sentence. It wasn't right."

"No, it doesn't sound right," agreed Amelia. "Did you accept it? I mean, James is here, alive and free."

"No, I refused it," said Barnes. "I didn't do it. Two out of the three superior officers agreed, Fury and Stark. Pierce voted guilty. According to military law, a unanimous decision is required to find a soldier guilty. Since it wasn't unanimous I was free to return to duty."

"But with your name still blackened from the charge and the one officer who found you guilty," said Amelia. "There is something dastardly about the whole affair and you think John Walker was involved?"

Barnes exchanged a look with Steve who nodded his head curtly. "The HYDRA prisoner who was going to testify on our behalf said it was Walker. He was also injected and transformed. To prove his strength and loyalty to HYDRA for the gift they gave him, he killed those people. Now he's in the Secret Service, privy to all sorts of top-secret information."

"What?!" Anthony Stark jumped up. "He's a U.S. Agent? There is definitely something rotten in Washington. I'm calling Fury. He needs to know this."

He rushed off to his apartment while the others sat quietly. A cough from Loki drew attention to him.

"Sergeant, I owe you an apology," he said, sounding shaken. "I never knew the whole story, only what was gossiped about in the newspapers. I assumed the worse about you and it wasn't right. You have conducted yourself with honour while I've known you, but I was too wrapped up in my own petty prejudices to see it. Please forgive me."

Barnes smiled slightly and nodded his head at the man, then stood up in front of Amelia.

"I didn't mean to hide this from you, but I didn't know how to tell you. It took a long time for me to trust that people would believe I could never do such a thing. I didn't give you a chance to decide for yourself and I'm sorry."

"Oh, James. I do believe you but why would Walker be against us courting? That was his intent, wasn't it, to stop us from being together?"

"I knew it," grinned Natasha. "It's written all over them."

Barnes smiled at the vivacious redhead. "I can only think he doesn't want me to be happy at all. He never did like me. Steve had to reprimand him more than once for harsh treatment."

"Well," stated Mrs. Stark, standing up. "We have a dinner guest to prepare for. Amelia's father, Harris Winston is visiting tonight. We're going to give him the grand tour to show him that his daughter is a vital part of our organization. I want everyone in their best clothes and on their best behaviour this evening. Drinks are 7 pm. Dinner is at 8. Don't any of you dare be late." She laughed. “Anthony’s not the only poet.”

"I forgot he was coming," said Amelia. She looked up at the man she loved. "It will be alright. He will like you and I'm sure he will give his blessing to our courtship."

The man couldn't help himself. Now that their unofficial courtship was in the open, Sergeant Barnes did what he wanted to do for weeks. Removing the glove from his right hand, he placed it on Amelia's cheek, then leaned down, gently pressing his lips against hers. It wasn't a chaste kiss, but it was sweet enough that the others who witnessed it sighed at the obvious display of love between the normally reserved Sergeant and the young librarian. When he wrapped her in his strong embrace after, as she rested her head against his chest, everyone felt like something wonderful had just happened for the couple. It was beautiful to witness.

Part 4>>

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[sarahowritesostucky]

Art: @hopelessartgeek

📖 "Medically Necessitated" Ch 9

Rated: Explicit Pairing: Bucky x Steve Tags: a/b/o, age gap, past rape, rape recovery, trauma recovery, pregnancy, medical trauma, hurt/comfort, mentions of CSA, religious fundamentalism, first time, gender dysphoria, male omegas having all the bits (peen & vagine) Summary: After a medical emergency brings him into the ER, Bucky escapes the religious cult he's been raised in. It's up to Steve, nurse practitioner and omega sex & repro specialist, to see him through a medically supervised heat.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter! Story masterlist

9. Rebecca

After a battery of tests to ensure he isn't being coerced, Bucky is finally released into Steve's care.

The next morning, Steve shows up to work with a brand new tablet,  StarkPhone, box of steaming hot French toast, and a spring in his step. But when he gets to Bucky’s room, he���s surprised to find him dressed in regular clothes and speaking with a visitor.

The woman from the cult is there, sitting in Steve’s usual spot at the bedside. Steve tenses up in preparation for a confrontation.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been sitting in a conference room with her hair tied back modestly, that same modesty echoed in her meek demeanor and homemade dress. Today she’s wearing a pantsuit with jewelry and makeup, but the difference doesn’t register to Steve right away. He can only think of the man named Russel who’d been so hateful when he spoke about male omegas, who’d threatened to rip Bucky away and take him back to his insane little cult. How the woman introduced as Bucky’s mother had just sat there and not said a word against any of it.

Steve takes another step into the room, fingers digging into the takeout container and making the styrofoam squeak. “You.”

“Steve!” Bucky greets happily, eyeing the food and electronics that Steve is balancing his own coffee cup atop of. “Morning.”

“Hey, Buck.” Steve’s eyes flick between the woman and Bucky. She resembles him, though she sure as shit doesn’t look old enough to be his mother. He frowns at her and wonders how long she’s been there, how she even got up to the ward in the first place. “Is everything okay in here?”

“Yeah. Steve, this is Becca. She’s from the Children.”

“We’ve met,” the woman says before Steve has a chance to open his mouth. She gives him a wary look and holds out her hand. “Rebecca. I’m—”

“I remember you,” Steve says flatly, ignoring the gesture. “You were here with that man. Russel.”

Her expression falls and she retracts her hand. “Sorry. Yeah.”

“Is he here?” Steve asks tightly. He’s on edge just thinking of another alpha coming in to try and stake a claim on Bucky.

“No. No, I came alone.”

“Good.”

“I brought him some clothes from home,” she offers, aware of Steve’s opinion of her. “I called ahead to get permission. The social workers know I’m here visiting. They approved it.”

Steve blinks, surprised. “Oh.” He relaxes a fraction at that, moving over to set his armload of things down on the bed near Bucky’s legs.

“Oh my God that smells good. Give it.” Bucky is stretching down the bed to get at the take out container, and he moans when he lifts the lid and the smell of butter and maple syrup escapes. “Oh, fuuck me.”

“Bucky,” Steve scoffs, embarrassed.

It’s then that Bucky seems to finally catalog the other items. “What’re those?”

Steve scratches behind his head, wishing that the woman Rebecca wasn’t there. He’d wanted to surprise Bucky with the gifts. “Well you said you were bored,” he defends. “And everybody needs a cellphone.”

“Shit, they’re for me?!”

Steve takes great pride in the blinding smile that Bucky gives him, but his enjoyment of the moment is stilted due to their guest’s presence. “If you two were having a visit, I can step out for a minute.”

“No, no that’s okay,” Bucky says, already spearing up a bunch of the French toast and shoving it into his mouth. He chews, talking around the food and pointing at the woman with his fork. “She’s my sister.”

“Your ‘sister’?” Steve narrows his eyes at Rebecca, who really does look to be in her thirties. “I thought you were his ‘mother’?”

Bucky snorts and Rebecca winces. “No. I’m sorry that Russel told you that. He lied.”

Steve crosses his arms. “I’m still curious how you made the jump from mother to sister. Is this a lie, too?”

“Russel married her,” Bucky says, still mowing through the food and rolling his eyes. “Gross, by the way.”

“I was only one of many, and didn’t exactly have a choice, Bucky,” she scolds. She looks back to Steve. “I came here because I want to do what he’s doing. I want out.”

“‘Out’?”

“She’s leaving the Children, too,” Bucky supplies. “We both shoulda done it a long time ago, but,” he shrugs. “S’hard.”

“Yeah,” Steve says slowly, taking all of this new information in. “Yeah I’m sure it is.” Now that he knows that the woman in the chair isn’t there to try and convince Bucky to come back into the fold, now that he knows she’s Bucky’s sister and that she supports him, he’s feeling far less standoffish. He uncrosses his arms and tries to act at least marginally more friendly. “So … you two are actually related? I thought nobody in your group knew who their biological parents were?”

Bucky laughs with his mouth full. “Yeah but we figured it out years ago. I mean look at us.” He gestures between the two of them with his fork and Steve has to concede the point. They have the same wavy dark hair and the same face shape, near-identical eyes and noses. “Becs found some old documents once, digging around in the church office. We know the woman who’s our actual mother.”

“Well, know of her,” Rebecca corrects, and Bucky nods.

“We don’t talk. She doesn’t know that we know. Nobody does.” He shrugs and takes another massive bite of food, which he talks through. “Waaahya gunnuh do, righ?”

“I see.” Steve shifts uncomfortably and takes a sip of his coffee. He can only imagine how weird the whole thing must be. Or at least, it seems weird to him. But Bucky’s talking about it as if it doesn’t bother him a bit, or at least not enough to stop demolishing his breakfast. “Well um, it’s good to hear that you’ve got some support,” Steve says. “Somebody you know. On the outside.”

Rebecca looks up from her chair. “I came to tell him that I’d officially moved out. I found a charity that helps people like us, people who’ve got nowhere else to go. They’ve helped me find an apartment, and I’ve got a job interview today.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve tries to smile encouragingly, even though his heart rate picks up at the possibility that she’s about to say that she wants Bucky to come live with her. “That’s great.” He takes another big gulp of his coffee.

“Steve’s the one who knocked me up.”

Steve almost spits out his mouthful, swallowing painfully and coughing. “Bucky!”

Rebecca laughs, the sound slightly similar to what Bucky’s own laugh sounds like. “It’s okay. He told me how it happened. I know you’re not some predator trying to take advantage of him.”

Steve flushes and shifts uncomfortably. He sure does feel like one, having to face Bucky’s much older sibling about it now. “Yeah, well …”

“I didn’t know you could test for it so soon, though,” Rebecca says. “The commercials always say, what? A few days after your missed period?”

“That’s for beta women,” Steve says, knowing the statistics by rote. “Omegas’ menstrual cycles are timed differently. Their bodies implant the egg and start producing hCG much faster, so blood tests’ll pick up on it after only a few days.” He glances at Bucky. “Sometimes sooner.”

“Oh.”

“We’re bonded,” Bucky tells Rebecca. “It was just supposed to be temporary, but, well …” He glances down at his stomach and Steve feels guilt flare up in him. “So now Steve’s taking me home to live with him.” Bucky doesn’t seem at all concerned about how his sister will react to this news. “So that the baby can be around his pheromones and stuff. Which is apparently important.”

Steve is abruptly reminded that Bucky has had zero sex education in his life, and he resolves to download a bunch of material onto the omega’s new tablet as soon as it gets a full charge. “It’s all about what he wants,” Steve feels compelled to say, to ensure that Rebecca fully knows that he is not a predator. Christ, he hates that she even thought to use the word. That’s going to stick in his mind, now. “Bucky didn’t want to consider termination, so we’re doing what’s best for the development of the fetus.”

“Could you not call it that?” Bucky complains. “S’weird.”

Steve flushes. “Sorry. Medical jargon. Habit.”

“Right.”

There’s a beat of silence between the three of them, and Steve is just about to open his mouth to offer again to give the siblings some privacy for their visit, but Rebecca beats him to the chase by standing. She picks up her purse from the floor and shoulders it. “I’d better get going. The interview’s at ten forty-five and it’s half past nine now. I’m still kind of slow at the whole public transportation thing and, well. Don’t want to be late.”

“Hey, you can text me now!” Bucky says excitedly, reaching for the StarkPhone that Steve had hurriedly charged and added onto his plan that morning. “Oh, but I don’t know my number …”

“Here.” Steve helps by taking his own phone out and unlocking the screen. “What’s your number? I should have it too.” Rebecca relays the information and the both of them save her in their contacts. She says goodbye and promises to be in touch, giving Bucky a hug and Steve a handshake that feels more than a little stilted. “It’ll be okay,” Steve promises her out in the hall, when Bucky has found a moment of distraction with his new phone. “I’m going to take care of him.”

“You’d better,” she says. “He just got out of that life, he doesn’t need to be trapped all over again.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Good. You’ve got no idea what life with The Children is like. Boys like James …” she trails off and shakes her head sadly. “You don’t know what it was like for him there. What it would’ve been like, if he’d stayed.”

“I think I can imagine,” Steve grits, but tries to temper his tone when Rebecca raises a questioning brow. He doesn’t know how much, if anything, Bucky’s told his sister about the rape, and it isn’t Steve’s place to bring it up now. “I’ll be good to him,” he tells her. “I promise you. You don’t have to worry.”

“You seem like a good person. I’m trusting that.” She softens and pats his hand in thanks before turning to leave. “I’ll be in touch.”

Steve watches her go, the elevator doors down the ward hall opening with a ‘ding’ just as she’s passing by them. Clint and Sam step out and head in Steve’s direction. Two tiny, stern-faced women are with them: OmCare advocates who look like they mean business. “Steve,” Sam greets as the group approaches. “We’ve gotta take him now.”

Sam’s tone tells Steve everything he needs to know. “Discharge after?” he asks hopefully.

Clint and the two women all but ignore him and continue on to Bucky’s room without entertaining his comment, but Sam and Steve are close enough that Sam nods and lingers behind to whisper sideways at him, “Hospital admin wants you as far away as possible right now.”

“Jesus,” Steve grumbles, mildly offended despite the fact that he knows it’s only a protective measure for Bucky. “I do have advocate training, ya know.”

“Yeah, and you’re involved. This is the eighteen-year-old you knocked up and bonded. Doesn’t exactly speak to your impartiality.” Steve would be more offended, but he can see how Sam’s lips turn up slightly at the corners, belying his serious attitude. “Go check on your patients. Work. Don’t just sit around up here moping and twiddling your thumbs or whatever. You’ll go nuts if you do. We’ve got this.”

Steve doesn’t like it a bit, but he knows it’s what has to be done. Any documentation of him loitering on the periphery of Bucky’s evaluation, education, or his discharge interviews will be noted harshly by the social services team. And despite all of his raging instincts, the last thing Steve wants is to pressure Bucky into a decision or situation he’s not comfortable with. This is how it has to be. “Yeah,” he grunts in agreement, and hurries to get himself out of sight. He heads for the staff locker room, where he takes an extra long and scalding hot pre-shift shower to at least make an attempt at a fresh and productive start to his day.

Steve’s head of department pulls him aside and informs him that she’ll only be requiring him to stay on the ward until Bucky is discharged and handed over to his custody. Steve doesn’t know how long that will be, but he’s certain it won’t be the entirety of his scheduled twelve hour shift.

It’s a relief at first, but after he does his first rounds with his patients and finds himself twiddling his thumbs and drinking too much espresso out of boredom, he knows it’s going to be a problem. Sometime around eleven, Steve gets caught trying to sneak downstairs to get an update on Bucky. “Stay out of it,” Banner bosses, pulling him right back off the elevator. “You bored? I can find something for you to do.”

That’s how he winds up on seeding machine duty for the next few hours.

Hospital treatment options for cycling omegas aren’t just confined to the heat suites and Support alphas. In fact, most patients who come through for heat services never get assigned a Support at all. Most aren’t even admitted, not being that high-needs. An omega’s cycle, gone off whack for whatever reason or variety of reasons, can usually be realigned with a short course of seeding therapy. But if there’s anything Steve’s ever felt most bad for omegas about, it’s the indignity of the machines used to do it. Because they’re … well …

“Oh. Wow, ha. It really is just a dick on a stick.”

Steve does a slow blink to avoid reacting to that. Not that the patient—a college-aged guy who smells like he’s recently been enjoying reefer—is wrong. “Um,” Steve says, readjusting his hold on his tablet. “It says here that you spoke with the nurse. Did you have any more questions?”

“This can’t get me pregnant, can it? I’m not on the pill or anything.”

Steve’s jaw ticks. “Hospital grade semen is manufactured. It’s sterile. So, no, it won’t get you pregnant.” If only the same could’ve been said for yours, he thinks at himself. “We do this all the time, Sir. It’s very safe, very reliable. I promise.” Just like you promised Bucky.

“Cool. No little swimmers, check.” The guy gives Steve a double thumbs up. “Think I’m ready to tango with this bad boy, then.” He smacks the top of the seeding machine happily.

Another slow blink. “... Right. Um, please try not to touch the equipment, okay? It’s very expensive.” Steve turns for the door, wondering just how long he’s going to be stuck doing this before he gets to see Bucky again. “If you’ll change into the gown. There are socks there too, if you want. Try and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back with your dosage and then we can get started.”

“Awesome. Hey, are there any snacks?”

Steve heads down to pharmacy to get the guy’s treatment dose. There’s a young female tech manning the counter and she’s visibly flustered as she retrieves the order, blushing as if it’s actual jizz she’s handing over to Steve. He winks at her, amused, and tells her to relax.

Upstairs, the receptionist is MIA so Steve hands out clipboards of check-in paperwork to the other patients who’ve shown up in the waiting area. There’s a young Korean woman and her very involved mother who are up next. The patient herself is a legal adult and seems unconcerned at being there, but the mother keeps trying to pull Steve aside where her daughter can’t hear so that she can ask thinly-veiled questions about virginity and whether they have “small sizes” for the machines.

“Ma’am, just fill out the paperwork. If you have specific concerns I’ll be happy to discuss them in the privacy of the procedure room.” He shoots the pushy woman’s daughter another look and the two of them lock eyes. She rolls hers as if to say, ‘I know’.

Steve can’t say he’s having the time of his life, but he can see why Banner thought seeding machine duty would be a good enough distraction. It isn’t exactly rocket science, is infact a very routine outpatient procedure. But dealing with the daily slew of patients coming into the hospital’s oobgyn ward to be therapeutically inseminated by machines is still a lot to handle, interpersonally at least. There’s a lot of comforting Steve has to do, a lot of reassuring and laying out the facts for the ones who have never gone through it before. Some omegas are scared or embarrassed, some are just grumpy and indignant, but some have real trauma regarding penetration. It’s Steve’s job to try and get them as comfortable as possible for their procedures. It’s always a mixed bag with how people react to the more … mechanical aspects of it.

Because the truth of the matter is that seeding machines are basically just super high tech, super unsexy versions of fucking machines. Nobody says that (except for the stoner back in procedure room B), and some effort is clearly put forth by the companies who build the things to try and make them look as bland and as non-sexual as possible. Most models that Steve’s ever seen have plastic casing over all the gears and pistons, and the dildos aren’t exactly designed to be perfectly anatomical. But at the end of the day it’s still a phallic piece of rubber, with an inflating base, fixed onto a thrusting apparatus that administers semen intravaginally.

It’s a fucking machine.

And on another note: Everybody thinks that Bruce-fucking-Banner is such a nice, mild mannered, wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly type of guy. Steve used to think that too, given that the man is very quiet and unassuming. It’s the first impression he gives off: Mr. Nice Guy. But Banner has another side of him that’s kind of horrible, Steve’s found. He gets his shits and giggles in sneaky ways, by surreptitiously ribbing his friends and forcing his subordinate coworkers into shit like this.

“This” being things like a sexually frustrated housewife who’s made an appointment just for the heck of it and turns out to have no medical need for the procedure. Steve has it out with her in procedure room A, trying with all his might not to offend the lady when he explains that insurance isn’t going to cover her coming in just to get her jollies. “I’m sure there are cheaper ways, ma’am,” he says, face flaming at how unashamed she is about the whole debacle. “Your husband?”

“Psh. You haven’t seen my Roddie’s thing. It ain’t up to par, Doc.”

“Online shopping then. And it’s Nurse, not Doctor.”

It’s the first time he’s basically instructed a patient to just go home and buy a sex toy.

Then there’s the crowning glory of the day: an A/o couple whom Steve walks in on who’ve decided to engage in oral sex of the face-sitting variety up on the procedure bed … whilst the seeding machine is still locked into its knotting phase.

“Ma’am!”

“... It’s not what it looks like!”

Steve escapes that one with some choice images scarred onto his retinas, the tablet held up in front of his face to prevent further trauma, and a gruff parting rebuke of, “Get off of him and put your pants back on. You’ll have to go out to the waiting area until your husband is finished.”

“... Just five more minutes?”

Lying freak had claimed her omega was nervous and needed his hand held. Bull. shit.

Back in procedure room B, Steve finds the stoner arranged comfortably on the table, socked feet already up in the stirrups and a mini bag of cool ranch Doritos in his hands, ostensibly procured from the vending machines out in the hall. Hopefully he grabbed them before he changed into the backless paper gown.

“Comfortable?” Steve asks.

“Oh yeah. The nurse gave me lube so I’m raring to go.”

“... Great.” Steve watches him crunch a handful of chips. He’d rather a comfortable patient than an uncomfortable one, but this is a whole ‘nother level. “Erm, do you have any questions before we get started?”

“Do the dicks come in other sizes?” he asks, and Steve tries not to choke on his own spit. “Cause if you’ve got a little bigger I wouldn’t mind. Or ya know, if you’ve got ones that are ribbed or bumpy or sumthin’.” He starts to giggle.

Steve fights to keep a straight face. This guy is so high. “Sorry,” he says, focusing on injecting the machine’s cartridge with the prescribed dose of semen. “S’kind of a one-size fits all deal.” He walks around to check the phallus for proper positioning. They do all they can to keep the process clinical, but the attending technician still has to guide the rubber attachment up close to the patient’s entrance. “Selection’s kind of limited.”

“That’s okay. Mm.” The guy’s got his eyes closed and he smiles dopily up at the ceiling as he feels the attachment touch him. “Ooh.”

“Okay?” Steve checks.

“Yeah,” he sighs, then snickers, “S’bigger than my girlfriend anyway.”

Steve shakes silently and turns away just in case the guy opens his eyes and sees him laughing at him. “Okay then.” He presses the button on the machine for initial penetration, watching the guy’s face for any hint of discomfort, unlikely as it may be. “Still okay?”

“Mm.” He wiggles his hips. “So far so good.”

Steve steps away to the little partition wall that’s built into the room. Behind, there’s a control panel where he can sit and operate the machine remotely, unseen by the person he’s treating but still able to communicate throughout the course of the procedure if needed. Some omegas prefer the privacy, but in this case Steve just wants to avoid busting out laughing in front of his patient. He’s supposed to be a professional.

“Come on, Doctor Steve! Let’s get this rodeo started!”

Some patients make it damn hard, though.

Steve has supervised no less than a dozen procedures by the time Clint shows up. “Hey,” Clint says when they run into each other out in the hall. “Banner said you were free to come with me?”

Steve’s heart starts beating faster as he immediately remembers what it is he’s been trying to distract himself from these past few hours. He checks the patient schedule on his tablet. “Got somebody coming off the knot in … two minutes, then I can turn it over to my charge nurse.”

Clint nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He taps his foot.

“So?” Steve presses. “How’d it go?” The anxiety that he’s somehow managed to tamp down since that morning rises all over again as he waits for Clint to give him an update on Bucky. “Is he okay?”

“Of course he’s okay. What do you think we’re doing down there, waterboarding him?”

Steve purses his lips. “No. I just can’t imagine what you’ve been doing with him for the past three—” he checks the time on his tablet. “Four hours. Christ, it’s almost two o’clock.” He really hopes that somebody fed Bucky a suitable lunch.

“Education, mainly. Since he’s just a kid and doesn’t have a clue what he’s getting himself into,” Clint says, a little more aloof with Steve than he normally would be. He’s been that way all day, and Steve knows it’s because he disapproves of the course of action they’re taking. Steve tries not to take it personally, knows that Clint just feels like he has to stand up for the rights of his own designation. It’s kind of his actual job, after all. If Steve weren’t there, he’d hope that Bucky would always have somebody like Clint in his corner. “The rest has been a mix of waiting for people to show up, paperwork, counseling,” Clint lists. “Legal brought a team down to make sure all the right stuff got signed to cover the hospital’s ass. And the courts sent over a clerk and one of those advocate lawyers. That’s the closest anything got to an interrogation, I promise.”

“I thought the courts approved it already?” Steve says, and Clint narrows his eyes at him.

“This was to make sure he understands everything, Steve. It’s kind of important. He’ll be legally bound to you.”

“For the next few months,” Steve agrees, idly wondering when Bucky’s exact birthday is. He thinks it was something like March or April but can’t quite remem—

“Nnno,” Clint says slowly, dragging the word out like he thinks Steve’s an idiot. “Indefinitely. You two are bonded, remember?”

Steve blinks. “He’s about to turn nineteen. This was just a stopgap until he—” Clint sighs and makes a long suffering face. “Clint, what?”

“You’re bonded. That automatically takes it from a custody order, to his registration as your omega. Nothing goes away until you two march yourselves back into a courthouse and undo it, buddy,” he says. “You didn’t know that?” When Steve just stands there like a dummy, Clint softens and steps forward to pat him on the shoulder. “It’s indefinite until then, and if the alpha party doesn’t sign for the dissolution, it doesn’t get dissolved. Ever.”

“Oh.” Steve licks his lips. No wonder everybody has been making such a big deal out of this. “Right. I guess I just didn’t think of—”

“He’d be trapped,” Clint grunts, not happy about it. “They say things are changing. In a few years, maybe. But until then, we’ve got to live with the laws that are on the books. And they favor you, not us. But what else is new?”

Steve tucks his head down, feeling bad for his privilege. “So he knows all this now?” He thinks of Bucky: downstairs, alone, tucked behind some conference table with all these people telling him all these intimidating things, shoving papers at him to sign, overwhelming him. Probably feeding him crap from the vending machines for lunch. “And he signed off on it?”

“Kid trusts you,” Clint says, shaking his head. “Yeah he signed. He said he knew you’d let him go, when and if he wanted it.”

“‘If’?”

“He’s finishing up with the shrinks now. I think they were assessing for dynamic dysphoria, last I popped my head in. Figured I’d come up here and make sure you’re free, since he’s almost done. Bruce said he’d be sending you home early whenever we discharge Barnes.”

“Barnes,” Steve repeats dully, thoughts whirling.

“His last name?” Clint snaps his fingers in Steve’s face with a scowl. “Jesus, Rogers.”

“Right, right. I knew that.” 

The sister: Rebecca. Her last name was Barnes. It hadn’t yet occurred to Steve that they might share it. His mind is still stuck on the fact that he’s going to have legal custody of Bucky for a lot longer than he’d realized. A registered omega. Steve’s mother had been a registered omega. To his father. It’s what married couples did, not … 

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Lemme just, uh, grab a shower. Then I can head down.”

“Um … didn’t you have a patient?” Clint checks his phone. “It’s been way more than two minutes.”

“Oh! Shit.” Steve shakes himself and turns to hurry back in the direction of procedure room A, where Ms. Jeong is probably wondering what the hell’s happened to him and why she’s still stuck on a knot.

It’s nearing four o’clock by the time they leave the hospital. Steve immediately gets them to a drive through, since he’s highly displeased to learn that Bucky’s “lunch” that afternoon consisted of cheez-its and a bag of peanut m&ms. He tells Bucky to order whatever he wants, no limits, and so when they pull out of the drive through to head home, it’s with a bag full of greasy burgers.

“Sometimes I jus’ luff shitty food,” Bucky moans through his third cheeseburger, then swallows and beams at Steve. “Like, genuinely enjoy the shitty things that make it shitty, ya know? Processed cheese, squishy fries, compressed meat product, all of it.”

“Yeah. We really don’t need to talk about the fact that you put fries on your burgers, though.” 

Steve parks at the curb and they sit in the car to finish mowing through their food before they head inside. He has a bad feeling that he’s going to make Bucky fat very fast, because so far nothing has made him feel more satisfied and content than watching his omega be well-fed. “We’ll have to stock up on good stuff to keep in the apartment,” he says. “Healthy stuff.”

“Mm.” Bucky is licking the salt off his fingers and shoving all their wrappers into the bag as they get out of the car and start down the sidewalk. “Can you cook?”

“Eh, middlin’,” Steve says. “Can you?”

“Are you kidding?” Bucky snorts. “The Children think cooking is ‘women’s work’. You think they let me anywhere near a stove?”

“Oh.”

"I wouldn't mind learning, though. I always liked watching those competition shows on the Food Network, ya know?"

Steve fishes out his keys and gestures at the building. “This is me. Or … us, I guess.” He clears his throat and watches Bucky looking around as they step inside the building.

“Wow,” he says, standing there in the middle of the foyer with his small bag of possessions, head craned back as he looks up the winding stairwell.

Steve’s been nervous about this. He likes where he lives, but he’s never brought someone home before. It’s a nice place but nothing fancy, an older building with less than twenty units and more historical charm than amenities. There’s no elevator, and the basement laundry situation isn’t pretty, but the super’s nice and he only seems to rent to at least halfway decent people (which means nice neighbors, which means less drama). That’s all Steve really cares about at the end of the day. That, and that Bucky likes it, too. “Um, prepare yourself. We’re all the way up top, so ...” They start up the stairs, Steve moving slower than he normally would to make sure that Bucky's okay. He feels better about it when they get up there and Bucky jokes lightheartedly that he'll never be out of shape as long as he lives with Steve.

Inside the apartment, Steve gives him the tour, short as it is. “Kitchen, couch, bathroom—oh that’s just the utility closet. Erm … and then the, ah, the bedroom.” He stands back in the doorway and watches as Bucky takes it all in.

Bucky sets his bag down on the bed, then turns back around to face Steve with a shy smile. “It’s nice.”

“Thanks. Sorry it’s so small.” Steve scratches behind his ear. “S’only ever been me.”

“It smells like you.” Bucky’s eyes are still flicking around to different points in the room. “It’s got character, texture.”

“Texture?”

“Mmhm. I like it.”

Steve feels a little bit of his insecurity slip away at Bucky’s honest appraisal. “Um, over here’s the closet.” He pulls on the chain that lights up the old bulb in the room’s lone walk-in closet. It’s currently full of Steve’s clothes, but he figures that adds to his scent being built up thick, which will be a good thing if Bucky ever decides to nest in there. “We’ll have to get some bedding,” he says, eyeing up the bare hardwood floor. “Nesting materials and stuff.”

Bucky does a turn inside the closet, fingering the pants leg of a pair of Steve’s scrubs that are hanging up in there. “You’re changing your whole life just to help me,” he murmurs. “All of this, everything you’ve done …” he smiles shyly up at Steve. “You’re too nice to me, you know that?”

Well. Steve feels his face heat and he shoves his hands into his pockets to avoid touching Bucky. “‘Bout time someone was.”

Bucky steps closer, and closer, until Steve feels like he has to take his hands out of his pockets and place them on Bucky’s waist because he’s just so close. Bucky leans in and kisses him, and Steve can see it coming from a mile away, but he’s too stupefied for a second to do anything about it. It’s really just a peck on the lips, but when Bucky pulls back Steve feels the need to say, “Buck … you don’t have to do that.” Bucky blinks at him, and he elaborates, “You don’t have to be physical with me. Or at least, not in a sexual way.” He curls his fingers in at Bucky’s waist, feeling the soft fabric of his tee shirt. “We’ll be close, but I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re expected to kiss me or touch me like that.”

A little wrinkle of displeasure appears between the omega’s eyebrows. “But, I thought …”

Steve waits, but when Bucky doesn’t say anything else, he pulls the boy into a hug. He rubs his back soothingly and scents at his glands. The bite mark there is scabbed over by now. “Just want you to be safe and comfortable, okay Honey?”

Bucky is still in his arms for a minute, but eventually he hugs back, scenting calm. “Okay, Alpha.”

Steve’s eyes slip closed. He’s not going to get tired of hearing that anytime soon.

They decide to celebrate Bucky’s newfound freedom by going out for a fancy dinner. Steve doesn’t eat out much, is usually too consumed by his work or else too tired after just having gotten off from a shift, but it’s really nice to be able to enjoy a whole meal in a fancy setting for a change, chatting with Bucky and getting to know each other a little more. 

They eat early, so that after dinner there’s still time to go shopping for anything Bucky might need, now that he’s living with Steve. Rebecca had brought Bucky a backpack of clothes from home, but it’s not much, so they start at Target, buying a few more things for Bucky to wear. 

“Guess I’ll have to get used to elastic waistbands, pretty soon,” Bucky grumbles when they do a curious turn about the maternity department. “Ugh.”

Steve laughs and consoles him that at least it won’t be for a while yet. Then they wind up walking the aisles of Twig ‘n’ Tuft, Steve pushing a cart while Bucky obeys the order he’s been given to throw in anything his heart desires. There are a lot of soft things for nesting in the store, and Bucky seems drawn to them all. Steve feels something warm and pleased settle in his chest as he watches his omega trailing fingers over all the chenille blankets and fluffy pillows on the shelves. Bucky is happy, Steve is making Bucky happy. It feels so satisfying, and for the first time, Steve really starts to think that this whole thing between them might turn out to be alright.

Art: @hopelessartgeek

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[gay-jewish-bucky]

oh fyi in the marvel cole universe (the superior mcu) they won the battle of wakanda, bucky was actually utilized as a sniper instead of running around willy-nilly and he took out thanos while steve was fighting him hand-to-hand