Chapter Text
A low, desperate whine filled the room as Steve arched his back more, thrusting the dildo harder into his wet hole. Close. He was so close to relief from the unending frustration. But even as he thought it, he could feel that edge slipping further and further away. He let out a cry of frustration, pulling the toy free and throwing it across the room before collapsing onto his back and burying his face in his hands.
Before the serum, Steve hadn’t presented a secondary gender. Just another way that he was kept separate from the world around him. But at least he’d been able to come. The SSR scientists had been hopeful that after the serum he would be transformed into a perfect specimen of alpha masculinity. They had been beyond disappointed that their only super soldier had been an omega, immediately putting him on high doses of suppressants throughout the war.
Maybe it was all of the prior health conditions from his past, or the experimental treatments that had been used on him. Either way, he didn’t know. It hadn’t been until he was recovered from the ice that Steve realized how damaged he was. He couldn’t get hard and he couldn’t come. No matter what or how long he tried. Which always led him to frustration and misery, due to all of the other things that meant he would never have.
Steve would never have an alpha to call his own. Someone to love him, protect him, take him to the submissive heights that other omegas waxed poetic about. No one wanted damaged goods. He might look perfect from the outside, but it was all a lie. Everything special about him came out of a bottle.
He forced himself out of bed and into the shower, cleaned himself as fast as possible, not wanting to linger on thoughts of his body. Afterwards Steve headed to the training floor. It was usually a good place to distract himself from his thoughts.
Natasha and Clint were on treadmills in the corner, and Tony was walking towards a sparring mat. “Hey Spangles! Wanna go a few rounds?”
Steve pasted on a false smile, walked to the older Alpha’s side. Being that close to him was torture. Tony smelled woodsy, rich and decadent, and the scent would linger on Steve’s skin for hours, making him ache inside. Of course he never responded to Steve as an omega. Only a teammate, maybe a friend at best. Of course not. Tony Stark was known for only having the best. He’d never choose a broken omega who had the body of an alpha.
“Sure Tony. No problem.”
They started their normal routine of warm ups and practice, but something was off. Steve didn’t feel right, kept needing to shake his head to try to clear out some of the cobwebs. A pain in his side sent him down to the ground. He thought he heard a concerned voice asking if he was alright, but it seemed to come from a great distance. The world was spinning around him, the way it used to when he’d have an asthma attack and couldn’t get enough air into his lungs.
Steve started to panic. This was wrong. Everything was wrong. He couldn’t breathe. Then the world went dark around him, and he was alone.