Chapter Text
The first time it happened, Cecil didn’t even remember giving consent.
Not in the traditional sense, anyway.
He remembered Nolan’s shadow falling over him. The Viltrumite’s sharp alpha scent pressing down on him, so thick and powerful. A base scent of ozone, like the air after a powerful thunderstorm, and an irony leather, like a blacksmith’s apron left outside and kissed by sun. Cecil remembered how overpowering the scent was. How he breathed it in so easily and desperately. Like it belonged in his lungs just like oxygen. He remembered heat blooming low in his gut, shame curling behind it like a dog eager for a leash.
He remembered how easy it was to yield. To just let go.
How natural.
How vile.
The first time it happened, it wasn’t even a choice.
Not really.
Their meeting was just supposed to be a check-in. Cecil had assigned himself long ago to personally monitor and handle all direct communication with their supposed alien protector. He’d only been director for a year at that point, but the young omega hadn’t trusted anyone else to be able to handle their mysterious new ally. There were concerns from higher ups about an omega handling an unknown omega, but those concerns dissipated when it became clear how useful Omni-man was for the world and how well he worked with the GDA.
Besides, Nolan didn’t like dealing with anyone else at the GDA or the hero community. He tolerated the Guardians just enough to work with them while out in the field. Cecil didn’t know if it was just because the alpha’s ego was so big he only wanted to talk to the man in charge. Or if the alpha was just surprised a powerless omega was in charge of defense of the planet. Either way, Cecil didn’t care just as long as Nolan kept doing what he said and saving lives.
Dealing with Nolan wasn’t that bad, he didn’t posture or growl like some Earth alphas did. He listened to Cecil enough to usually follow his orders out in the field and handle whatever situation Cecil wanted. The alpha, of course, spoke like he was above humans but that wasn’t that unusual for heroes. Cecil learned long ago when to stroke a hero’s ego and when to burst it in order to get what he wants.
Not that it was always that simple. From the start, Nolan had been too big for any room he walked into. Too loud, too arrogant, too strong. And too fucking handsome. And Cecil, the idiot omega that he was, had noticed. Had kept noticing, every time Nolan towered over him in a briefing room with his arms crossed and the weight of his gaze making it hard to think. It wasn’t like the alpha was even trying to posture. It was just his natural state. His scent always filled Cecil’s nose for hours. Lingering long after the alpha had left.
At this point, Nolan lived on Earth for a few years and had even married a human. A beautiful female alpha named Debbie. The two of them even had a baby together. Something a lot of female alphas weren’t comfortable with doing. Debbie, though, took to motherhood like a natural. The two of them weren’t bonded though. Cecil wasn’t sure if it was because Viltrumite alphas weren’t able to bond with other alphas or if it was because Debbie couldn’t bond mark a Viltrumite alpha gland.
That night, it was raining. Hard. A huge thunderstorm had hit all of D.C, flooding the lower streets and sending down powerlines with its powerful winds. Cecil remembered because the metro station flooded leaving GDA employees stuck at the GDA headquarters under the pentagon despite their shift ending. A massive shitshow that Cecil was perfectly willing to let Donald handle. Nolan had come by for a scheduled debrief, but neither of them had mentioned the mission much.
"You work too much," Nolan said, voice low and unimpressed as he took a slow look around the cluttered space. "No nest. No heat blankets. Not even a bondmate. What are you, trying to kill yourself through neglect?"
Cecil snorted. "You here to give me dating advice, or are you trying to learn small talk again? You still aren’t doing it right."
Nolan’s lip curled, something close to amusement flickering behind those blue eyes. But it wasn’t humor. Not really. It was interest. Sharp and hungry, the way a predator tracks an injured animal as it limps through the woods.
“I just think it's pathetic,” Nolan said after a pause. “An unmated omega your age. No wonder you act like you’ve got something to prove.”
Cecil stood then. His chair scraped hard against the linoleum, but he didn’t notice. The scent coming off Nolan had shifted. Barely, but enough. His normally powerful yet controlled scent was suddenly coming off the alpha in waves. The ozone more sharp and electric than ever. And it slammed into Cecil’s gut with the weight of years he had spent repressing everything his body ever wanted.
“You’re one to talk,” he bit out. “You show up to my office in a fucking button-up like you’re some suburban dad, but you’ve got that Viltrumite stink of dominance so thick I can taste it. What do you want me to do?”
Nolan’s expression didn’t change.
“I want you to shut the hell up,” he said. “And stop pretending you don’t want it.”
Cecil opened his mouth to argue but the coil in his gut betrayed him. His scent glands were beginning to throb under the heavy scent blockers he wore. His vision felt hazy for a second as he tried to focus on anything but the scent of heavy ash and leather in his nose. He took a step back. Just one. But it was enough.
Nolan was on him in an instant.
The omega’s back slammed into the wall with a grunt as Nolan shoved him heavily against the concrete wall of his own office. Nolan caged him in easily, his hands braced on either side of his head, and teeth bared. His scent was suffocating now, pure alpha, overwhelming. Cecil shuddered.
“I can smell it on you,” Nolan growled. “You’ve been watching me since I got here. Jerking off to the idea of getting claimed like the desperate little thing you are.”
“You’re married,” Cecil said, weakly. It sounded pathetic, even to his own ears.
“So?” Nolan’s mouth was against his neck now, hot breath brushing the skin. “She’s an alpha. She’s strong. She doesn’t need this. You do.”
Cecil turned his head, exposing his throat in a move so instinctive it shocked him.
Nolan bit him.
It wasn’t a bond-bite but it still made Cecil gasp. He grabbed onto Nolan’s forearms as the Viltrumite sucked at the flesh on his neck. His legs went weak. A dark red mark blossomed at the junction where his neck met his shoulder. Drops of blood leaking from the indents left by Nolan’s teeth which the Viltrumite quickly lapped up.
The first time, they didn’t even make it to the couch. Nolan dragged him down to the floor. Rough hands yanked his slacks down. His scent glands flared and flamed and ached, desperate and confused and alive in a way they hadn’t been in years. Not since—
Cecil didn't let himself remember. Not then.
It was messy. It was ugly. Nolan was big, strong, and he didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. He took, and Cecil let him.
Because Nolan filled something that had been hollow for too long.
Because for the first time in forever, Cecil didn’t have to be in control. Didn’t have to fight back the desperate, gnawing hunger for warmth and touch and purpose that was constantly itching in his omega hindbrain. For once his stupid brain was quiet. He didn’t have to think about the Earth or humanity. Didn’t have to think about his image as an omega.
Nolan fucked him like he was a thing. Something to use. An outlet. And Cecil—god help him—came within minutes like a preteen boy, bitten raw on his throat and barely able to think.
Afterwards, Nolan didn’t say much. He cleaned himself up and pulled on his stupid button up shirt like nothing happened. Cecil, on the other hand, sat on the floor for ten minutes with shaky knees as his blood hummed from the aftermath of something he could never admit he wanted.
It kept happening.
Weeks passed. Sometimes Nolan came to the GDA late at night, under the excuse of a debrief. Other times he flew straight into Cecil’s remote abode. The director never questioned how the alpha knew about the location of his home. Something very few people knew about as Cecil handled all the upkeep of the home himself. The Viltrumite had the uncanny ability to always know where Cecil was. Sometimes Cecil was still in a meeting or trying to sleep. Nolan didn’t care. He wanted something, and he took it.
But it changed when he started inviting Cecil to the house.
“Debbie’s got a book club tonight,” Nolan had said casually, standing in the doorway of Cecil’s office like he owned the place. “Mark has a sleepover. You should come by.”
Cecil stared at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Nolan didn’t blink. “You’d rather I bend you over this desk?”
“Jesus Christ, Nolan.”
Nolan’s voice dropped. “You like it when I don’t give you a choice.”
Cecil’s stomach twisted.
Because he did.
The first time he went to the Grayson house, he sat on the couch breathing in the scents of the Grayson pack. Nolan’s overwhelming scent mixed well Debbie’s inviting vanilla, berry scent with a nice spiced undertone. Mark’s pup scent tied everything together. His palms were sweating. His scent was beginning to leak from where he removed his scent patches before coming here. Nolan hated fucking him when his scent was blocked off.
The bed was big and smelled like Debbie.
That should have stopped him.
It didn’t.
Nolan was on him in seconds. Harder than usual. More aggressive. Maybe it was the fact they were in her space. Her bed. Cecil’s cheek pressed against her pillow while Nolan gripped his hips tight enough to bruise and drove into him over and over. Her alpha scent filled his nose as Cecil buried his face in the pillow. Moaning and breathing loudly. It was humiliating. It was disgusting. But it felt right.
The two alpha scents made the omega in him want to purr. Nolan’s normally strong, overpowering scent softened into a more cool embers. Debbie’s scent was deeper and rich like a glass of wine allowed to rest. It smelt like a cool room warmed by a fireplace. A glass of wine upon a heavy low burning background.
The omega wasn’t sure which felt better. The unique combination of scents in his nose or the massive cock pounding away at his ass.
Afterward, Nolan rolled off him with a grunt and muttered something about cleaning up. Cecil lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, heart jackhammering in his chest.
Debbie didn’t know. She could never know
It got worse.
More frequent.
Nolan grew possessive. He called when Cecil didn’t answer texts. Pinged his communicator whenever Cecil ignored his phone. Showed up at GDA headquarters when he wasn’t invited. Got angry when Cecil tried to set boundaries.
“You don’t get to pull away,” he snarled once, pressing Cecil up against a wall with his forearm across his chest. “You belong to me. You know you do.”
Cecil’s breath hitched. “I’m not a fucking toy.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Cecil should have walked away. Should have told someone. Hell, he ran the GDA. He had access to a thousand different ways to disappear a problem. Though few could probably handle a Viltrumite.
But Nolan wasn’t a problem. He was a desperate need. An addiction Cecil couldn’t let go of.
Cecil had never let himself feel like this before—never been like this before. It was more than satisfying the omega instincts he ignored since the day he presented. It was about giving up control. About being wanted, even if it hurts. Even if it was twisted and fucked up.
Even if it would one day ruin everything.
But for now, he kept going back.
Because Nolan made him feel alive.
Even if he also made him feel like nothing at all.
It happened the fourth time Cecil found himself in Nolan and Debbie’s bed.
Debbie was at a real estate conference in the city. Mark was home that night. Tucked away in his bed hours before Cecil even came over. It was nearly midnight after all. Cecil almost turned back when he realized the kid was still home. Almost told Nolan it was a mistake. But the alpha had stood in the doorway of the master room with his large frame towering over Cecil and scent rolling off him in thick, hot waves. The look in his eyes said no. Said mine.
And Cecil couldn’t stop himself.
He let Nolan strip him down. Let himself be pushed face-first into the mattress that still smelled faintly of vanilla and a warm berry wine. Nolan didn’t kiss him. Never did. That was reserved for Debbie only. He didn’t caress or murmur soft words. He took. Fast. Brutal. His hands on Cecil’s hips, holding him in place as he slammed into him over and over, dragging out noises Cecil didn’t know he was capable of making.
Cecil wrapped his legs around Nolan’s back, pulling the alpha as close in as possible. His cock lay achingly hard against his stomach, untouched as always. Nolan didn’t care about the cock of a male omega.
He knew better than to jerk himself off. The one time the omega tried, Nolan responded by pulling his hands off his cock and then grabbing Cecil’s cock himself. He had then proceeded to squeeze the base of Cecil’s cock for the rest of the night. His ass became a disgusting leaky mess as more and more slick was produced by his O glands. He couldn’t cum from his cock though. Not with the Viltrumite’s tight grip.
His small cock head turned a bright red and wasn’t able to produce more than a few dribbles of fluid. Male omegas didn’t have balls but they still produced a good amount of liquid due to their prostate. Most of their fluids were created from the O glands in their ass. That night was the first time in his life that he experienced a pure anal orgasm. Nothing spurted from his cock, but he released a thicker version of slick from his ass. The orgasm felt amazing but also too intense. His insides felt like they were screaming and his vision whited out. His cock felt like a bottle of shaken soda that needed to be released. His entire body was screaming from the heavens but the hot aching heat of his cock burned throughout.
So Cecil never attempted to jerk off again. He much preferred cumming from both his ass and cock.
And Cecil didn’t care, Nolan was more than capable of making Cecil cum just from fucking his ass. Knowing just how to play with Cecil’s prostate and stimulate his O glands to release more and more slick.
So tonight, Cecil ignored his aching cock that was steadily leaking pre cum and focused on rising up to meet Nolan’s powerful thrusts.
But then Nolan slowed. Pulled out. Flipped him. And that was when Cecil knew something was different.
Because Nolan didn’t fuck him from behind this time. He climbed over him, eyes glowing faintly in the low light, and pinned both of Cecil’s wrists above his head with one hand. His other palm slid along the curve of Cecil’s throat, then lower—pressing just beside the large scent gland at the base of Cecil’s neck. It was the largest gland on an omega and where a bond mark went. Nolan stroked the bare, flushed skin next to his throbbing, sensitive scent gland which was leaking heavy amounts of Cecil’s sweet burnt sugar and amber scent.
“No one’s ever marked you,” Nolan said quietly.
Cecil tensed. His heart jumped.
“I’m not—” He started, but Nolan cut him off.
“I’m not going to mate you,” the alpha said. Blunt. Cold. Final. “But you’re mine. I’m done pretending you’re not.”
His head dipped, mouth brushing the throbbing gland. It should have been terrifying. It was. It also felt right.
Cecil felt his entire body arch into it anyway. The omega inside him was already howling. Recognized. Claimed. Wanted. It didn’t matter that it was wrong. That it was so fucking wrong. His brain screamed one thing, but his body rolled over like it had been waiting its whole life for this moment.
“Don’t,” he whispered, breath shuddering. Cecil considered pleading for a moment but he didn’t know for what. “Don’t—”
Nolan bit him.
Hard.
It wasn’t a bond-bite. No lock. No psychic feedback. But it marked, as Nolan tore into his skin and drove his alpha pheromones into Cecil’s scent gland in a way that would leave a trace for weeks. Months, if Nolan kept refreshing it. It was a territorial signal to all alphas. A crude, carnal alpha claim.
Cecil cried out. It felt like giving up. Like surrender. Like every scrap of dignity he had left had been taken and replaced with Nolan’s scent.
The alpha growled low in his throat and dragged his tongue across the wound, smearing saliva into the mark.
“There,” he said. “Now anyone who comes near you will know.”
Cecil was shaking.
He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to.
But his omega instincts had kicked into high gear, the second teeth broke skin. It was like every cell in his body had been reprogrammed to seek, crave, obey. He wanted to curl up into Nolan’s arms and be held. He wanted to bite back. He wanted to scream.
Instead he stared up at the ceiling, heart beating too fast, and whispered, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did,” Nolan said simply. “You were starting to forget your place.”
Omega biology was cruel that way.
Omegas didn’t choose to react like this. Their scent glands and hormones lit up under alpha pressure. Stronger alphas could send them into heat just by scent proximity if an omega was unclaimed and hormonally compromised enough. A claiming mark like Nolan’s wasn’t legally binding. It wasn’t a bond. But it was enough to make it impossible for Cecil to pass as unclaimed
And if someone else tried to touch him—hell, even smell him—they’d know. They’d smell Nolan in his neck. His chest. His sweat. They wouldn’t be able to identify the specific alpha. Nolan wasn’t that stupid.
Cecil wouldn’t pretend to understand what exactly was going through Nolan’s head or how the alpha viewed his relationship with Debbie in comparison to whatever this was, but the alpha always ensured their situation was kept secret. Just between the two of them. Cecil sure as hell hadn’t told anyone, not even Donald. But now Cecil wouldn’t be able to hide that he was in some sort of relationship with an alpha. At the very least no one would know that the alpha happened to be the most powerful being on the planet.
He belonged to someone now.
Not in the romantic, soft-earth way omegas were cherished here. Not in the way Debbie spoke about alpha partnerships and mutual respect and love and affection and hand-holding and cribs and picket fences.
No.
Cecil belonged to Nolan in the Viltrumite way.
On Earth, omega rights had been fought for. It was earned slowly and methodically over the centuries. Through civil rights movements, adequate healthcare and research into hormones, reproductive autonomy laws—all of it had shifted the balance to make omegas, alphas and betas equals. At least in the eyes of the law. There were still stigmas, still old fashioned people who treated omegas like fragile, needy things meant only to breed and nest, but modern Earth has evolved.
Viltrum had not.
Viltrumite culture was brutal. Eugenics-driven. Expansionist. Omegas had always been rare and valuable in their culture. Though now they were extinct in the remaining Viltrumite population. But when they were around. They were not respected or loved. Love wasn’t a concept Viltrumites believed in. They were possessed. Used. Broken in and bred by the strongest alphas. A Viltrumite omega was barely more than a status symbol and proof of a dominant and powerful lineage.
Nolan would never speak of such things on a planet like Earth, but it bled through in his actions.
In the way he touched Cecil like it was his right. In the way he barked orders and expected them obeyed. In the way he punished hesitation with teeth and hands.
And Cecil, god help him, let him. Each and every time. No matter what Nolan wanted
Because somewhere deep inside, he had always believed he didn’t deserve more than this.
Because he’d grown up in a house where love came with fists and silence and long, bitter stretches of being forgotten. Because his father had drilled into him that omegas were tools—useful only when obedient, disposable when not.
So maybe it made sense that Nolan’s treatment fit. When Nolan bit him, Cecil felt something in his chest crack open like a rib cage, emptying all the air he’d been holding onto since childhood.
Because he was finally listening to the part of himself he had always ignored and repressed. Because he couldn’t be a weak little omega when the Earth needed him to be cold and calculating. But with Nolan, he could finally let someone else be in control
After Nolan was done with him, he stood and pulled his shirt back on. He didn’t look guilty. Didn’t ask if he was okay. The alpha had marked an omega in the bed of his mate while their son slept in his bedroom down the hall. And the Viltrumite didn’t give a single shit. Cecil knew he should care if Nolan wasn’t going to bother, but all he could focus on was what his body was feeling
“You’ll come back tomorrow,” he said flatly, like a command.
Cecil’s throat felt raw. He tasted blood at the back of his mouth. Nolan never had him come over that often. He didn’t want to risk Cecil’s scent settling into the home
“…Debbie will be home.”
Nolan raised an eyebrow. “So?”
Cecil hesitated. Then nodded.
Because the mark on his neck was still throbbing. Because Nolan’s scent felt right at home on his scent gland. Because his whole body felt branded. Because he didn’t know how to stop anymore.
Nolan had stopped pretending he cared about consequences.
At first, he’d been cautious. He always locked the door and ensured Debbie was out of the house. He was willing to do things if Mark was in the home, but the kid was usually dead asleep in his room. But now he didn’t even ask. He flew in when he wanted. Pulled Cecil through the front door with a hand fisted in his jacket. Barked orders. Shoved him into bedsheets that still smelled like someone else’s happiness and innocence.
It was happening too often.
Nolan was getting bolder.
He’d taken to scenting Cecil before he even undressed him, pressing his face into the hollow of his neck and rubbing his scent into the omega’s glands like a beast marking its territory. Every time they met now, Nolan made sure to reapply his mark. He didn’t ask permission. He didn’t care if Cecil had meetings or how Cecil started needing to use a more powerful scent blocker that caused intense hormonal side effects.
“You belong to me,” he’d growled the last time. “Let them see it.”
Cecil didn’t say anything. Didn’t argue. What was the point?
There was a helplessness to it now. A quiet surrender.
It wasn’t that he wanted this life. But it was the only one that made sense anymore.
He couldn't explain it to anyone. Not Donald. Not Debbie. Especially not Debbie. She still smiled at him when he was over at the house for actual GDA business. Still invited him to the occasional BBQ or get-togethers with other members of the hero community. She had no idea.
Cecil wanted to puke every time she was friendly with him.
But Nolan... Nolan treated him like property. Like instinct. Like biological truth. And maybe that was easier to survive.
Nolan started inviting him over when Debbie was still in the house. Cecil’s ability to teleport anywhere on the planet made meeting up easy. They did it all the time now. For quickies during Debbie’s long showers. When she was cooking dinner in the kitchen. Whenever Cecil came over to “talk business” in Nolan’s office, the one he used to write in. Once when she was asleep in the other room. He held Cecil down on the couch, teeth in his neck, whispering filth into his ear as though daring the universe to expose them. All while his wife slept upstairs in their bed. The same bed Nolan fucked him in so many times.
And every time, Cecil gave in.
Because Nolan made him crave it. Because when Nolan pinned him down and used him, it drowned out the voice in his head that said he was worthless. It gave that voice a shape. A name. A goddamn reason.
The worst night—the one Cecil still dreamed about—was just a normal Wednesday.
Cecil had barely been in the house five minutes before Nolan had him upstairs, stripped, and spread across the bed like a piece of meat
“You didn’t wear the new suppressant again,” Nolan said, voice low with disapproval as he sniffed at the marked gland on neck. “Are you trying to get someone to scent you?”
Cecil was already shaking.
“I ran out,” he said, which wasn’t true. He had plenty of the new, harsher chemical that perfectly canceled out Nolan’s overpowering alpha scent. He hadn’t reapplied. Not since Nolan’s last bite a couple of days ago which had bruised the gland so badly it still stung today. The scent suppressants worked, but they made his insides ache and his scent glands throb. He preferred to use them only when necessary.
Nolan grabbed his jaw and turned his face sharply. “If I ever smell another alpha on you, I’ll rip their throat out. Do you understand me?”
Cecil didn’t answer fast enough.
Nolan shoved into him hard, not even bothering with prep just using the slick already dripping from his ass. The alpha’s crushing weight and the sudden burning stretch stole Cecil’s breath away.
“Say it.”
Cecil choked. “Y-Yes. I understand.”
“That’s right.”
Nolan’s hands were everywhere—gripping, bruising, claiming. The mattress creaked beneath them, and Cecil clung to the sheets like they were the only solid thing left in the world. He wasn’t even thinking anymore. Just feeling. Just burning under the weight of a man who could tear him in half and still somehow made him feel alive.
He was dizzy. Open. Raw.
Nolan was panting above him, breath hot against his ear.
“Say it,” he hissed. “Say you’re mine.”
Cecil didn’t want to.
But his body betrayed him.
“…I’m yours,” he gasped.
Nolan snarled in satisfaction and slammed into him harder. Cecil arched his back, moaning loudly as Nolan pounded against his prostate. The alpha loved seeing what noises he could wring out of the omega. The more desperate and needy the man sounded, the more eager Nolan became. Every nerve in his body was screaming for more, for less, for something to stop.
He didn’t even hear the door creak open.
“Dad?”
Cecil went cold.
Nolan froze, but only for a second. Then he leaned forward with his chest pressing Cecil deeper into the bed. His breath was steady. Unbothered. His thick cock still twitching inside Cecil’s ass
“Yeah, kiddo?” Nolan called out with a warm, casual voice.
Cecil could feel the boy’s presence at the doorway. Hear the soft shuffle of socked feet. Smell the warm milk scent of pup and the combined scents of his alpha parents coming off the boy. He couldn’t see anything, not with his face pressed against Nolan’s muscular chest.
“Um… are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
There was a pause. Cecil heard the door of the room creak slightly as Mark leaned against it.
“…I dunno. It just smelled weird over here.”
Cecil’s heart thundered. He tried to squirm, but Nolan’s hand squeezed his hip, pressing down with bone-deep force.
“It’s nothing.” Nolan said easily. “Go back to bed.”
Another pause.
“…Is someone in there with you? I heard you talking.”
Nolan smiled. Cecil couldn’t see it, but he could feel it. That quiet, cruel twist of amusement in the alpha’s chest.
“I was just finishing a call. Don’t worry about it.”
Cecil couldn’t breathe. He felt naked. Exposed. The scent in the room had to be overwhelming—heat-slicked omega and dominant alpha pheromones, raw and heavy and wrong. But Mark was just a kid. Young. His scenting instincts weren’t fully matured. All he could do was wrinkle his nose.
“Okay,” the boy finally said. “Do you know when Mom will be back?”
Nolan slightly rocked his hips against Cecil’s ass before replying, “Not until tomorrow morning. Why? What’s wrong with you?”
Mark was silent for a few moments. So silent that Cecil wondered if the kid had just walked off. But finally the boy spoke in a quiet whisper, “... I had a nightmare.”
The tension in the room suddenly doubled out of nowhere. Cecil didn’t know why but Nolan suddenly went still above him. The hand gripping his hip tightened even more that the omega had to bite down on his tongue to prevent himself from crying out. The room was silent.
Nolan drove his hips forward hard, shoving his cock as deep into Cecil as possible before sitting up and pushing Cecil against the mattress. He moved his hand off of Cecil’s hip and put it around the human’s throat instead. He squeezed the delicate flesh as he turned his body towards Mark. The Viltrumite was sitting on top of Cecil, the blankets and darkness of the room hiding everything from his son.
Cecil could only see half of Nolan’s face in the darkness of the room, but the Viltrumite looked annoyed and a little pissed off. He still hadn’t replied to his son and seemed more focused with studying the boy with that angry look on his face.
“...Mom always makes me cocoa.” Mark said in a small voice when Nolan only stared at him without saying anything.
“You know how to use the stovetop.” Nolan finally spoke. His tone was no longer warm nor casual. It sounded more like how Omni-man would speak and not a father to their son.
Mark didn’t say anything, but Cecil could hear the kid sniffling a little.
“Can… can you at least tuck me in afterward?”
Nolan’s grip tightened around Cecil’s throat to a choking degree. So tight that Cecil couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even let out a noisy gasp for air. Through his swimming vision, Cecil could barely see the range of emotions crossing Nolan’s face. Finally, Nolan processed whatever mess of emotions was going through his head. He loosened his grip on Cecil’s throat and finally replied to his son.
“Of course Mark. Go make your drink and I’ll be in as soon as I finish up. Alright, buddy?” The warm, fatherly tone had returned to Nolan’s voice.
The door clicked shut.
And Nolan didn’t move.
He waited until the footsteps padded back down the hall. Waited until the house fell quiet again.
“See?” he whispered. “He didn’t even notice.”
“You didn’t stop,” Cecil choked, voice hoarse with shame and disbelief. “You didn’t even stop—”
“Why would I?” Nolan said simply, almost bored. “You didn’t want me to stop.”
“That’s not—” Cecil’s eyes burned. “That’s not the same. That’s not—he’s your kid, Nolan. He could’ve seen—”
“But he didn’t,” Nolan said, and then pulled out only to slam back in with a force that knocked the wind out of Cecil. “He didn’t. Because I know how to handle things.”
Cecil groaned. “You’re destroying your family.”
Nolan leaned down. His lips brushed Cecil’s ear. “You’re the one in her bed.”
He fucked Cecil harder after that.
“You bastard,” he whispered, breath catching in his throat.
But Nolan didn’t respond. He just started to move again. Slower this time. Cruel, deliberate rolls of his hips that made Cecil’s body betray him all over again. His own slick made the glide effortless, his own scent flared sweet and needy under the alpha’s weight.
“You like it,” Nolan murmured, dragging a hand down Cecil’s stomach. “You like knowing I could destroy everything and still choose you.”
Cecil shook his head. But he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t deny it.
Because it was true.
Because the guilt didn’t stop the need.
And Nolan—
Nolan didn’t stop.
He finished inside him with a quiet grunt, cock still throbbing as he stayed buried deep, breathing heavy against Cecil’s skin.
No apology. No regret.
Just a low, satisfied murmur: “My good little omega.”
Cecil lay there long after Nolan got up to go tuck Mark in.
He didn’t move. Didn’t cover himself. Just stared at the ceiling, his body aching and mind buzzing. Mark had been right at the door. And he hadn’t known. But Cecil knew. And Nolan didn’t care.
Cecil had always handled his heats alone.
They were infrequent now, only occurring once a season, thanks to suppressants and a punishing schedule that rarely allowed his body to follow its natural rhythms. But when they did break through—when the biology refused to be ignored—Cecil took precautions. Isolated himself in his private cabin. Nobody found him. Nobody ever had. After all, the only people who knew where the cabin was, was Donald, a discreet security team, and Nolan of course. But Nolan hadn’t been there, not since he started wanting to use his own home out of some sick power play.
He never let himself be vulnerable in front of anyone. Not after what had happened when he was younger. Not after the things father had said—done—when Cecil had first presented as omega and cried through his first heat alone in a closet with nothing but a blanket to curl against as his biology awakened for the first time.
It was a weakness.
And weaknesses got you hurt.
So when the signs started, when the familiar thrum deep in his belly began to build, low and needy and dangerous, he filed the appropriate leave-of-absence protocol, locked his location from every GDA satellite, and retreated into his remote cabin. This was his first heat since the affair began.
He hadn’t expected Nolan to find him. He knew Nolan knew where the cabin was but he didn’t expect Nolan to seek him out. Even though they met up nearly daily at this point, Nolan always backed off when Cecil said he had work matters to attend to. He left Cecil alone for an entire week when the director got stuck dealing with internal GDA affairs.
So when Cecil claimed he had matters to attend to and wouldn’t be able to see Nolan for a few days. Cecil expected Nolan would listen. And he sure as hell hadn’t expected the alpha to show up already in rut.
Cecil was curled in the corner of his nest room, limbs trembling, sweat plastering his undershirt to his chest. He was burning up. His scent was leaking into the room in thick, cloying bursts of desperation. The floor was already scattered with pillows, blankets and old clothes—his shitty attempt at a nest. Nesting always helped but today it wasn’t. Something was missing.
Then Nolan’s scent hit him.
And everything inside him screamed.
The alpha appeared in the doorway.. His hair was flight-swept and wild. His Omni-man suit was already half off. His pupils were blown wide.
“You tried to hide from me,” he growled, stepping inside.
Cecil’s entire body jolted.
“Nolan,” he gasped, voice cracking. “You can’t be here – I didn’t tell anyone – I blocked the GDA… ”
“You think I need surveillance to find what’s mine?” Nolan snapped. He was already moving, steps heavy, every motion charged with barely restrained energy. “I could feel you halfway across the goddamn continent. That claim mark sings, Cecil. You think you can go into heat and I wouldn’t know?”
Cecil pushed back against the wall, his limbs boneless with fever and instinct. “I didn’t ask you to come. I can handle this on my own!”
“You didn’t have to,” Nolan said, and the door slammed shut behind him. “Your body did.”
He dropped to his knees in front of Cecil and dragged the shredded blankets closer. The nest was ruined already, but Nolan didn’t seem to care. He touched everything—raked his scent across the cloth, the pillows, the ruined shirts—and then Cecil, grabbing his arm, his chest, his jaw.
“You smell like need,” he muttered, voice shaking. “You smell like you’re begging for it.”
Cecil bit down on a whine. “I can’t—Nolan, I can’t—if you do this—”
“I’m not going to mate you,” Nolan hissed. “You’re not getting that. But you’re mine, omega. And I’m not letting some drugged-up, half-broken version of you ride this out alone like a fucking animal in a cage.”
His hands were already pulling at Cecil’s clothes, and Cecil was too far gone to fight it. His body was betraying him—arching into every touch, slick already leaking down his thighs, his scent glands throbbing as Nolan’s scent easily buried itself against them.
This was what he’d been afraid of.
Nolan in rut was nothing like Nolan in control.
He was worse.
They didn’t leave the nest for days.
Cecil lost track of time, somewhere between the third knot and the fifth—between sobbing into Nolan’s chest and clawing at his arms and screaming through release after release that never satisfied the gnawing inside him.
Nolan didn’t let him leave the nest. Didn’t let him think. Every time Cecil tried to speak, Nolan dragged him back down. Bit his glands, kissed his mouth, mounted him with the kind of strength that left bruises down to the bone.
He bred him like a possession. He bred him because it was the only way he knew to claim something fully.
To destroy it. Fill it. Own it.
And Cecil let him.
Because by day three, he wasn’t Cecil Stedman anymore. He was a tangle of heat and need and exhaustion, a thing that breathed only because Nolan let him, a thing that craved the pressure of the alpha’s weight and the burn of teeth in his skin.
Somewhere in the haze, he begged. He begged Nolan not to stop. To keep going. To fill the void of need in his chest.
And Nolan didn’t.
Not once.
When it finally broke and the haze of heat began to fade and Nolan’s rut started to cool—Cecil was barely conscious.
He lay half-buried in the nest, his body limp and used and aching. His throat was raw from moaning. His scent glands were swollen and bitten and bruised.
He felt… nothing.
Or too much.
Nolan stood beside the nest as he slid his Omni-man uniform back on and smoothed back his wild hair. His eyes were sharp again. Focused. The rut was over, and just like that, he was himself again.
“Debbie thinks I’m in space,” he said calmly. “I told her there was an issue with Mars.”
Cecil didn’t respond.
Couldn’t.
Nolan crouched beside him, touched his cheek with surprising gentleness.
“You needed this,” he said softly. “You just didn’t know how to ask.”
Cecil let his eyes fall shut.
He wanted to die.
He wanted to go back to the moment before that door opened and lock it.
But all he did was nod.
Because part of him still burned.
And part of him still wanted more.
When Cecil awoke again, he noticed how soaked the nest was.
Sweat, mostly. But also slick. And Nolan’s fluids. Too much of it—crusted against his thighs, his stomach, between his legs. He didn’t move for a long time. Couldn’t. His thighs and leg muscles ached from overuse, his scent glands throbbed, and his mouth was dry. Every part of him felt claimed. A used and wrung out thing discarded like the last rag on the battlefield. Even breathing hurts. His ribs were sore. His back, neck and shoulders are a mess of bites and hickeys. His throat burned from screaming.
He was alone.
Nolan was gone. All that remained was his scent, he hadn’t even bothered with a good bye. Just the overwhelming scent of alpha rut and omega heat staining the room like rot. The blankets had gone cold. The lights buzzed overhead. The room was quiet. Too quiet.
Cecil lay in it.
In all of it.
The remnants of what they’d done.
And he felt—like nothing.
Like he’d hollowed himself out to make space for someone else’s madness and now there was no him left.
Meanwhile, across the country, Nolan Grayson flew through the skies with ease.
The wind against his face was crisp and clean. He adjusted his uniform collar mid-flight, checked his reflection in a window as he passed a high-rise. He looked good. Controlled. Warm.
Like a man coming home.
When he landed on the front porch, Debbie was already unlocking the door.
“Nolan!” she smiled, stepping out in slippers and a worn t-shirt, her hair up in a loose bun. “That was fast. You said space would be a week”
“Found what I needed as soon as I got out there. It was mostly traveling,” Nolan said with that charming, low rumble he used when he wanted to sound modest. “I figured I’d come home early. Missed you.”
She leaned into him. Kissed him. He returned it softly, gently—hands on her waist, not too tight, not too aggressive. The perfect balance. She smelled like fresh laundry and wine and spiced vanilla.
“Mark’s been asking about you all day,” she murmured against his chest. “He’s in the backyard. He’s been on seance dog kick again. Wants to show you his cardboard space ship. He says only his space dad would know if it was a good ship.”
Nolan chuckled, easily falling in the familiar warmth of his family pack.
“Then I better go see him.”
He walked through the house. It was clean, comfortable and warm. Photos of family lining the walls. Mark’s school drawings and work pinned to the fridge. There were leftover cookies on the counter, and the smell of Debbie’s stew, a Sundubu-jjigae, cooking on the stovetop wafted faintly through the air. It was perfect.
And Nolan walked through it like he hadn’t spent the last three days knotting another man into unconsciousness. Like he hadn’t marked another omega over and over again until his body was too raw to move. Like he wasn’t still feeling satisfaction in his chest from a successful rut
“Dad!” Mark ran up onto the porch and jumped up onto him. “You’re back!”
“Of course I am,” Nolan said, catching him easily and lifting him into a hug. “Wouldn’t miss that space ship for anything.”
Mark laughed. “It’s definitely gonna get airborne this time!”
Nolan smiled, broad and proud.
No one looking at them would have guessed anything was wrong.
No one could see the slick still drying beneath Nolan’s fingernails. Or smell the faint, lingering scent of omega heat tucked beneath his collar, hidden just well enough under his own thick alpha scent. He’d spent the last few minutes before coming home in the upper atmosphere, letting the wind peel the worst of the scent away
But he hadn’t regretted it.
Not once.
Later that night, he stood in the doorway of Mark’s room, watching his son sleep. The boy was snoring softly, one arm flung over a stuffed Seance Dog plush.. Nolan watched him with quiet eyes.
He loved his son. Loved his wife. At least loved them through his Viltrumite understanding of an Earth concept. Mark will gain his powers one day and be the one to help make this planet the worthy colony of the Viltrumite Empire it could be. And Debbie was the one who provided the song, being so powerful in going against her alpha nature. So of course he loved them.
He meant it when he said so.
But he also meant what he growled in Cecil’s ear. When he drove into him hard enough to bruise. When he held him down in the nest and snarled that he belonged to him.
Nolan didn’t see the contradiction.
He was Viltrumite.
To love was to own. To dominate. To protect, yes—but also to control. That’s what being an alpha meant. Earth’s culture didn’t understand that. Their omegas were soft, respected, given choices. But Viltrum had bred instincts to take. To bend. To mark.
Cecil understood that.
Cecil needed that.
And Nolan gave it to him.
He returned to bed that night, kissed Debbie softly on the shoulder, and curled in beside her like he hadn’t spent the last three days in another nest, fucking an omega through a feral, bone-deep rut.
Debbie murmured something in her sleep and rolled toward him.
He held her.
Like nothing was wrong.
Like he wasn’t already planning the next time he’d drag Cecil back into heat.
It started with a disagreement.
Or at least, that’s what Cecil told himself it was.
He’d called Nolan in—this time, not as an affair partner, not as a heat-struck omega crawling into his nest begging for touch—but as the Director of the GDA. As the man with authority over the planet Nolan was supposed to protect.
A mission went poorly and too many lives were needlessly lost due to Nolan’s actions. Due to his failure to listen to Cecil’s orders. Normally, Omni-man worked very well with the GDA but recently there have been more and more issues. Issues that Cecil should have gotten under control a while ago. But he was willing to let it slide because the job always got done at the end of the day.
But Nolan asked him to come over to his house instead. And Cecil, the stupid omega that he is, decided to listen. Even though he knew it meant giving Nolan all the power of the playing field.
“You flew into Russian airspace without clearance,” Cecil said tightly. “Their satellites picked you up and we had to waste two hours fielding angry calls from Moscow. You’re not above protocol, Nolan.”
Nolan didn’t even blink. “There was an incident. I handled it.”
“An incident that Red Rush was more than capable of handling. You destroyed a military base. People died!”
“There were no civilians.”
“You don’t get to decide whose lives matter,” Cecil snapped, stepping closer. “I decide that. This isn’t Viltrum—this is Earth. You work with us, not above us. Not above me.”
Something shifted in Nolan’s eyes. A dark, dangerous glint of amusement.
“You forget yourself,” he said.
“I’m the Director of the—”
“You’re an omega,” Nolan cut him off.
The words hit Cecil like a slap.
“You think wearing a suit and giving orders makes you my equal?” Nolan stepped forward now. His frame eclipsed Cecil’s completely. “On Viltrum, you wouldn’t be allowed to speak to me like this. You’d be disciplined. Dragged to your knees and reminded of your place.”
Cecil's pulse spiked, but he stood his ground. “You’re on Earth now. You don’t own me.”
“I claimed you,” Nolan growled. “Your scent still carries mine. You begged for it. You submitted.”
“That was—” Cecil’s voice cracked. “That’s just sex. It doesn’t mean I belong to you.”
“It means everything,” Nolan hissed, and then he moved.
Cecil barely had time to stumble back before Nolan grabbed him—one massive hand around his throat. Not really choking him, moreso holding him in a tight grip. Pinning. Scent glands flared as Nolan’s alpha pheromones poured out in thick waves.
“You’ve forgotten your place,” Nolan rumbled. “I’ll remind you.”
Nolan dragged Cecil up to the master bedroom and shoved him down onto the bed.
Cecil fought.
For all of ten seconds.
But every time he tried to push Nolan away, the alpha growled—deep, vibrating sounds that made Cecil’s knees give out. His scent glands pulsed. His omega instincts screamed submit. Every nerve in his body flared with confusion and terror and need.
Nolan tore his clothes like paper. He flipped Cecil onto his stomach and pressed him hard on the mattress. Cecil tried to turn his head in order to get some air, but Nolan grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. He stuffed something under Cecil’s face that was absolutely drenched in the alpha’s scent. Cecil was just able to make out the white and red of the Omni-man uniform before Nolan pressed his head down against the uniform. All Cecil could breathe in was Nolan’s scent.
He pulled Cecil’s ass off the bed only to start sending a series of quick spanks to both ass cheeks. The omega groaned against the scent soaked fabric as it felt like fire bloomed against his ass. Each slap was precise and caused a loud *smack* to fill the air as his ass cheek jiggled with the force.
When Cecil’s ass was beautiful, bright red, Nolan finally stopped. He held Cecil down and thrust into him with terrifying force. Nolan pressed his mouth against the scent gland on Cecil’s neck and chomped down. Harder than ever before. Cecil could feel the blood dripping down his neck. He cried out at such a harsh force but his body was drumming with energy. Sparks of pleasure shot down his back from where Nolan was biting him. All whilst pounding away at his ass.
Cecil writhed and sobbed beneath him, scent spilling everywhere, glands leaking pheromones of submission and surrender. He was squealing by the end—his body betraying him completely, shuddering with shameful heatless release even though his brain screamed no.
Nolan didn’t stop. Not until Cecil went limp, exhausted and cock empty.
Not until he was broken and whimpering, scent-drunk and soaked in sweat, a mess of tremors and tears against the sheets.
Only then did Nolan pull out. Wiped his hands. Stood.
He loomed over the wreckage of the man he had claimed, breathing hard, his eyes glowing with territorial fury.
“You’ll never speak to me like that again,” he said. “Understood?”
Cecil whined a pathetic omega cry.
Nolan rumbled.
A sound of approval.
He turned to leave.
But the door was already open. And Debbie stood in it.