Chapter 1
Fate seemed to hate you with a passion. First, it gave you a mate that hated your guts. After the Battle of New York, a lot of bad people had gotten their hands on alien tech and Fury had sent you to gather intel on what they were planning to use on. You were good at your job, but it was supposed to be a small group, not a growing organization.
When you failed to check in, Fury had sent backup. They were in the middle of moving locations when they were intercepted by Natasha, Clint and Steve. You had met Natasha and Clint, hell you were friends even. But you had never met the Captain until that night.
He had torn the door of the trailer open and stopped when his eyes landed on you. He inhaled sharply and his scent had hit you full force. Alpha. Your alpha. He was your mate. For a moment you forgot about the man holding a gun to your head or about the bruises scattered on your aching body. Captain America was your mate, you felt it in your bones.
Then the man holding the gun to your head started shouting, threatening to kill you. The Captain had snapped out of it then, sending the shield directly to his head. You had collapsed to the floor of the truck because all that had been holding your beaten body up had been the terrorist’s arms.
Steve had run to you, lifting you up in his arms and carrying you out. You had curled up against him, inhaling his scent of oak and freshly washed linen.
When you had woken up in medical, he had been there to break any rising hopes you had for a mate. “It must be a mistake,” he had said. “I already had a mate. They’re dead.”
“It can’t be a mistake,” you had said, gripping the sheets tightly. “I feel it.”
“I already have a mate,” he said, then corrected himself with a pained look. “Had. I can’t be your mate. I’m sorry.”
He had looked sorry when he left, his scent mixed with worry and remorse. But when you saw him again he had been pissed. You got shot during your mission, covering for another agent. Apparently the Captain had been close by after a mission he had been on and Fury sent him when you called for backup.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He had growled at you after you took the enemy down together. “I told you to stand down. You’re injured.”
“I think I did pretty well,” you argued.
He snarled, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the medical team that had arrived at the scene. The Captain had glared at you all the way back to SHIELD and it became the permanent look on his face whenever he saw you.
Whenever you coincided at SHIELD headquarters he would glare at you before walking away. Your mate, Steve Rogers, hated your guts. He refused to accept that you were his mate. But you knew you were. You knew he was your mate. Your body and soul told you so.
But fate wasn’t done messing with you because just five months after meeting Steve, you had woken up to a gun on your forehead. Your instincts kicked in and you managed to knock the gun out of his hand and jumped over the couch. But the assassin was faster than you, blocking the way to the door, another gun drawn.
You knew why he had been sent, but you hadn’t expected an assassin. You thought they might interrogate you for trying to access files that were above your clearance level. But if they had sent an assassin that meant they were up to something bad.
You assessed the man in front of you and when your eyes met his own you knew fate hated you. He was glaring at you, the light in the living room was low but you could see his eyes were ice blue. Not the same color as Steve’s, yet you felt your knees go weak.
He stiffened, his grip loosening on the gun and dropping it to the floor. You inhaled his scent of sandalwood and cinnamon and let out a whimper. He snarled, ripping the mask that covered his nose and mouth to take a deep inhale.
He was your fucking mate.
The assassin crossed the space between you with three long strides and inhaled again, letting out a growl. He pressed you against the wall, nuzzling his nose over your scent gland. You let out a gasp as he licked a stripe over the gland. You should’ve pushed him away, he had come to kill you after all. But your hand wrapped around his neck, holding him there as his tongue dragged deliciously over your gland. He ground his hips against yours and you felt his hardening length under his tactical pants. You groaned, hips arching to meet his. The assassin growled, hands coming to grip your thighs and pull you. You instantly wrapped your legs around his waist and let out a whine when he dragged his teeth over your neck.
“Smell so good,” he praised, voice sinfully deep.
Slick soaked your panties and you ground your hips against his body. “I thought you were going to kill me.”
“I’m gonna fuck you,” he growled. “Gonna fuck you until you’re dripping on my cock, omega.”
“Fuck,” your cried, giving up any pretense that you would fight back because you wanted his cock in you.
Fate had given you a heroe mate that hated your guts and an assassin mate that wanted to fuck you against the wall. And you were a kickass omega but you wanted his cock so bad.
You had to press your hips back against the wall to fit your hand between your bodies and pull at his pants, but they were zipped and buckled in complicated ways.
The alpha lifted you higher, tapping your thigh. You understood instantly and wrapped your legs tightly around him as he let go to undo his pants himself.
When he was done he lowered you down, directly on his length, your head hit the wall as you threw your head back, back arching as he made you take his cock in one thrust.
“You feel so good,” he groaned, pressing his face on the cleavage of your sleep dress. He stayed deep inside you but didn’t move, giving you time to adjust to his thick length.
The alpha pulled the strap of your sleep dress down, to expose your breast and took one into his mouth. You moaned, fingers burying into his long hair. “Alpha, fuck me please.”
His growl sent vibrations through your skin. The assassin pulled out half way before snapping his hips, thrusting into you. You mewled, holding onto him tightly as he began to fuck you roughly. He held your hips with a bruising strength and his tongue and teeth teased your nipples as he snapped his hips in and out of you. His cock was hot and thick, making obscene noises as it drove in and out of your slicked folds.
“You smell so good,” he said, his hot breath ghosting over your nipple. “Feel so good. So fucking wet for your alpha.”
“My alpha,” you moaned. “You’re filling me up so good.”
His head snapped up to look at you, icy blue eyes full of lust. You felt a sense of recognition as you watched his face closely, but didn’t have time to grasp the thought as his lips crashed onto yours. He swallowed your moans as he fucked you deeper, his cock reaching new lengths as he pressed his body agaist yours.
You had never felt so much pleasure. None of the alphas or betas you had slept with before had made your body buzz like he did.
“Your cunt was made for me,” he said, pulling away from her mouth to lick at her glands. “I’m gonna feel you up, omega.”
“Fuck,” you moaned, pushing your hips down to meet his thrust. “Yes, yes, please alpha. Fill me up, please.”
Your alpha chuckled, teeth dragging over the gland and making your cunt squeeze his length. His chuckle turned into a choked growl as he started fucking you harder. The heat coiling at your belly snapped, a particular sharp thrust sending you over the edge.
You let out a cry, coming over his cock and he fucked your through it. The alpha thrust into your slick pussy hard and fast, his rhythm becoming erratic. He let out a growl and sank his teeth onto your mating gland as he filled you up with his seed.
You let out an oversensitive whimper as he continued to hump into you slowly and licked the blood off the fresh bite mark on your neck.
“Your name,” you managed to gasp out as you slumped your head over his shoulder. “Tell me your name.”
His hips stilled at the question, muscles tensing.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to kill me now,” you huffed, looking at him with glare, nails digging into his shoulder.
“No,” he punctured with a snap of his hips, drawing out a choked gasp, “I’m gonna take care of you, omega. Gonna take you away so they don’t send someone else after you.”
You released your grip on him, and rested your cheek back on his shoulder, facing his neck. He moved his head to the side and you wondered if he wanted you to bite him. You pressed a kiss over his gland instead and whispered your name to him. “Now tell me yours.”
He didn’t answer again. You lifted your head to look at him and saw his troubled expression. “I—I don’t. I—I don’t know.”
You frowned at him, seeing the troubled honesty in his eyes. A gasp left your lips as that brief sense of recognition from before hit you full force. You had seen his face so many times before, but his hair had been short and his lips pulled into a charming smile. When you found out that Steve Rogers was your mate and he rejected you, you had looked up all about him and his past.
You had seen pictures of your assassin before. He was Steve Rogers’ best friend. Steve was your mate but so was the troubled assassin whose cock was still inside you.
“Bucky,” you whispered his name.
Fate really had it out for you.