I do not own the writes to any Marvel character mentioned, those are solely owned by Marvel. While I do own the original characters mentioned, the characters of Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Natalia Romanov, Alexander Pierce, Peggy Carter, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, T'Challa, Shuri, etc. are not owned by me.

Steve Roger's couldn't believe he was actually doing this. Standing in front of this all-white building, it's circular shape holding innocent Omegas, one of which he was hopeful soon to call his own.

He had been through his rounds of power-hungry Betas and Omegas, crawling all over him to reach for his money, power, but most importantly authority. He just wanted a simple Omega, one that he could cherish and truly love, contrary to common Alpha society today. One that he could give the world to, just she and him.

You, on the other hand, had given up any hope long ago. After 237 you stopped counting how many days you had been in your tiny cell. Excuse me, apartment. Calling it an apartment made it slightly more bearable. You built a makeshift bookshelf out of some plastic utensils you had managed to burn down via candle, and planted a small flower in an old empty water bottle. A little extra life made it more manageable.

Laying on the small metal counter you had was your orange peel from breakfast, that being one single orange, just like it was every morning. Next to it, the small napkin in which your pink hormonal pill was placed. It stopped heats, so they wouldn't have to deal with that.

Today was one of the two times a week you got to interact with the other Omegas. You were dying to do so, gossip a little about your bland and tasteless lives while being locked up, even if only given 60 minutes and constant watch.

A while back you would spend that time plotting your escape, but soon enough you found out it was absolutely useless. Guards were everywhere, security cameras placed every other foot in The Compound. There was no use. You would just be tortured further if you even remotely tried.

"224," One of the guards came pounding on your door, "Yard time." You got up and hastily exited through the large steel door, displaying your number on the outside. The guards refused to wait for you, you were on their time, not your own.

You were led down the cool hallway, with just one of your two pairs of grey sweatpants and white t-shirt on, your wavy hair hanging down just below your breast. They let you cut it once a year, for hygiene reasons.

And there you were, in the large empty space, shaped in a perfect circle filled in with concrete, and a grey that was sore to the eye. You stood around and greeted some of your other Omegas, 445, McKenzie, 667, Taylor, and 190, Riley. "I heard another group of Alphas is coming today." Taylor rolled her eyes as you four stood in your own circle.

"Another round of dirtbags," McKenzie whispered, well aware the guards could strike if they heard what she was saying at any moment. You nodded.

You were of course never fond of the idea of having an Alpha. Most of the time, they were ruthless and would use Omegas as pieces of meat. Technically, you all were. They would bid or buy you, the price starting at one million dollars. And from then on, you were legally held under their name. You were there's.

But then again, at least you would be released from this hell. But probably put in another. The few tales of Alphas treating their Omegas as humans were delightful to imagine, to say the least, but as you learned, never keep your hopes up.

So after your 60 minutes of chatter was up, you were all escorted back to your cells. The unfortunate part of being on the second floor was your apartment was always cold. So you threw on your sweatshirt and went back to reading your book, curled up on the squeaky twin bed they gave you, leaning your back into the corner.

Steve at the moment was being escorted in, alongside Bucky and Sam, his two best men. "You guys ready to find yourself a pretty Omega?" Sam asked and smiled. Bucky smiled back and nodded.

"Been ready for a while, to be honest." He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Steve gave a disgusted look as he stood between the two, he was appalled and ashamed himself for being here. He, out of all people, should be able to find someone to mate with. But, apparently not.

"Gentlemen," Director Fury who headed the place stepped out in front of the group of 10. "It is my pleasure to welcome you to The Compound. The world's finest and most prestigious organization to find a prized Omega. A few ground rules before we head in," He looked around at the group of Alphas knowing something would most likely brew over the next two days, "Today will be your day to find an Omega or multiple. At the end of the day, we will show you what your desired Omega or Omegas look like. You may decide then if you will choose to bid on them tomorrow. We will also provide you a file about them, which you may review tonight. We ask that all Alphas stay as tame as possible, although sometimes natural causes get in the way. We do have numerous security guards, most of which are Betas, to stop any ruckus if it begins. Are we clear?" All the Alphas nodded as the large steel doors slid open, and they began walking in.

Steve was overwhelmed by the number of scents he received. He began feeling dizzy, lightheaded even as every possible scent was coming to him. They began on the top floor, floor seven, with some of the youngest Omegas. Steve knew he was an older man and had no desire to take on an Omega as young as 13. He found it disgusting.

For others such as Brock Rumlow, his arch-nemesis, these were all toys. Steve wanted to punch him in the face, as he began catcalling these women based on their scent. "I can just tell that one has a nice ass," he would laugh to his posse who would laugh back. Even Sam and Bucky would never talk like that, and those two were even a little wild.

Floor by floor Steve couldn't find any scent that drew him in. Yes, there were a few that were slightly interesting, but none that made him get butterflies. Towards the end of their tour, he began losing hope. Bucky had found Omega 556, and Sam had found Omega 345. But Steve couldn't get his grip on one.

Then they hit floor two. Just as he began to lose hope, a sudden whiff of cherries, vanilla, and almond hit him. Sam and Bucky could both tell by his alertness.

Steve's senses led him to 224. And he stood there for a few moments absorbing your intoxicating scent. He could feel his stomach twist and turn, a small smile tugging on the edges of his lips. This is the one, he thought.

Bucky and Sam smiled from down the hall as they watched their friend who stood there, staring at the cell wall with the black numbers displayed, aware that 224 was his Omega, no one else's.

And Steve was not one to back down, everyone knew that. He would fight for what he wanted until he got it. "That's a good piece of meat right there, ain't it?" Rumlow asked and chuckled, next to Steve.

"Shut it." He spat, getting defensive, turning to face Rumlow and standing a few inches above him.

"She's mine Rogers," He smirked.

"We'll see about that," Steve smirked right back before walking back to Bucky and Sam, who both smirked as well knowing Rumlow stood no chance against their friend.

"She's the one?" Bucky asked and Steve nodded.

"C'mon, let's go find out more about our Omegas." Sam smiled as the three walked out, and up the elevator to the top office where the files were kept.

And there they stood, listing their numbers to the Beta behind the desk who brought them the files. Steve sat down in one of the large armchairs they had, and slowly opened the manilla folder entitled with your number. First, your name: "Y/N". He whispered it aloud, lightly smiling after it. Your name sounded just as innocent as your scent smelled.

There wasn't much else on you. Just that you were from a state in the midwest, graduated high school, and was ratted out by a neighbor who was paid 10 grand for your name to be given to the organization. "Are you all ready to see your Omegas?" Fury asked and every Alpha nodded eagerly. Guards led everyone to their potential Omega's cell, Steve and Rumlow sharing 224.

Once the screen opened, displaying you in the corner reding your book, Steve was put into lust. Everything about you was perfect to him, from your partially tangled hair to the small reading glasses on your face. And the way your eyes read line for line of the book with such investment put him in a trance. Even on the monitor, your Y/E/C eyes were gorgeous. You were gorgeous. "She's one fine bitch," Rumlow said and smiled at you, Steve ready to pounce but prevented himself as he looked around seeing the five guards.

"One fine Omega, you mean?" He cocked a brow at Rumlow. He began laughing.

"Typical Rogers, gonna treat an Omega like a lady."

"That's because she is." He growled. The two were shortly escorted away, back outside the building and into their cars, going back to their hotels.

You made it through a few chapters of your book before lights out was called. Crawling under the sandy covers, and wire-like sheet you were given, you quickly pondered upon the idea of having an Alpha, being somewhat free. Well, not really free, but kind of. It would surely be more pleasant than your current situation, that's for sure.

Steve couldn't stop thinking about you. He didn't get more than 4 hours of sleep, your beautiful form, scent, and name etched into his mind, "Y/N," He would occasionally mumble aloud just to hear it. You were his soulmate, and he would do everything in his power to make sure you were the one in his arms.