#alpharius x reader

Alpharius spotted the diver first, separated from her group, loose netted sack in hand full of human trash. There was a group of them, diving up and down, sifting through the sand for cans and bottles. There’d been a noisy and obnoxious boat of partygoers only the night before, loud enough to scare off most of the little mers that usually basked around these vast coral reefs.

It left them with plenty of fish to feast on, scavengers to their core. He and his brother’s long, thin bodies wove through the coral with ease, jaws snapping around unaware and vulnerable fish. They cared little for the shiny trash, except when it got caught between their teeth and thehy had to pick it out.

A human… however. Well, that was more than just a treat. They weren’t opposed to dragging the occasional human down, letting some other mer take the fall for their hunger, but they were quite satisfied from their scavenging already. Well, their bellies were quite satisfied.

He glanced around and began weaving his way through the coral reef. The sunlight filtering through the waters helped to hide his long tail, a shade of teal that seemed to blur in the light. The striping only served to help appear as mere ripples and small waves.

He slipped into a cast off net and let it tangle around his tail. It was an old fisher’s nest, washed up by the currents and tangled around the reef. He ensured he could still slip out of it, of course. He would never let himself truly be so entangled.

Then, when the diver swam down, her netted sack empty, he put on his show. He thrashed and flailed, kicking up sand and snapping off coral. It gained her attention quickly and she swam towards him, long rubber fins kicking gently.

She wore little equipment, a mask over her face and nose, her netted sack, a pair of graspers hanging from a cord around her wrist. She approached him slowly, holding out her hand in a clear sign of openness and no harm intended. He stilled his thrashing, eyes wide in feigned fear as his gills flared in panic.

She smiled and moved closer, reaching out for the net. He made a point to flinch back, blowing foaming bubbles from his mouth when she touched the hook he’d allowed to hook into his tail. She offered a gentle pat to his tail, blowing a few bubbles of her own to match his.

He moved his upper half closer to her, poking at her gasper curiously with a tilt of his head. She slipped it off her wrist for him and showed him how to slip his fingers into the handle. It only took one of his fingers to fit on the handle and he gave it a few harmless snaps before turning it on her.

She made a soft sound when he closed it around her ankle and kicked lightly, but didn’t truly kick him off. Clearly, she had some experience with mers, content to let him distract himself with the grabber as she gently untangled his netting.

The net came off easily, the slick mucus of his tail helping her. She bundled it up and waved her hands through the water, cleaning them of the slime. She pointed up to the surface and made a clear ‘wait’ motion.

He held onto her little grabber, clicking it a few more times before slipping free of the coral, spotting Omegon lurking in the shadows, much lower than him. He shot his twin a wink, stretching out his tail as he swam up to join her.

She was taking several deep breaths when he surfaced, filling her lungs. He teased her legs with his tail, making her jump and look around, her eyes landing on his. He held her gaze, his lips curling as the sun reflected off of them.

He licked his lips, keeping a portion of his tail around her as he pulled her closer to his body. She gave a small struggle and he clamped his webbed hand over her mouth when she opened it to scream. “Shh,” he purred, “no need for that.”

The hypnosis settled into her mind and he smeared slime over her mouth and nose. Plunging two fingers into her loose mouth, he coated the inside of her mouth and the back of her throat. It would be quite inconvienent if she drowned, after all.

She was wonderfully limp and pliant as he dragged her back down, abandoning her little grasper and letting it sink to the seafloor. The slime coating her mouth let her temporarily breathe in the water, though it was admittedly messy and gross to aware humans.

Omegon slithered through the water to join him, wrapping himself around his brother and their prey. “You think she’s good enough?”

Alpharius smiled at their prey, keeping his eyes on hers. His slit was already opening and she was blissfully unaware, smiling up at him dopily. “Oh, I’m sure she is. She’s at the peak of her cycle.”

Omegon sliced his claws through her swimwear, not caring if his claws drew blood. She twitched away, her arms flailing in protest, trying to hit him. Her protesting flailing missed, but Omegon hissed down at her all the same.

Alpharius took her hands, grinding against her as his slim cock extended from his slit. He shushed her softly, bringing her hands to his chest and expertly pinning them between their bodies. He spread her legs, sniffing the thin blood in the water. “Be careful, Omegon. You don’t want to attract predators.”

Omegon snorted, blowing a stream of bubbles from his gills. He wasn’t waiting for Alpharius, already thrusting against her and smearing slick across her cunt. It made her nerves light up in pleasure, priming her for an easier access.

She squirmed between them, mouth open and gasping through the film. Omegon all but shoved his cock into her, hitting her cervix hard. She jerked at the motion and he smirked as she squeezed around him.

Alpharius cooed down at her, his hands brushing over her body, curiously exploring her breasts, tugging on them gently. Omegon was already thrusting and the motion jolted her body, making her jerk. Her mind was blank as he held her close, keeping her slowly blinking gaze on his own.

He eased his cock into her, moaning as he rubbed against Omegon’s. They were both slim enough to fill her, though they felt how she struggled, her moan dissipating into the swirling waters. She was certainly tight around them already, her body loosening to fit them both, relaxing thanks to their natural slick.

Whereas Omegon went hard and rough, Alpharius went slower, rolling his hips to grind into her. He worked her to relax and open up, toying with her chest, smiling as she relaxed and began moving with him.

Their cocks rubbed against each other and she squeezed around them, her slick adding to theirs. Omegon hissed in pleasure as he forced himself past her cervix, shoving in deep. Her outcry of pained pleasure bubbled out and she arched out, clenching around them as she came.

Omegon grinned down at her, squeezing her thighs and letting his claws press into her skin. “See, she likes it.”

Alpharius snorted softly, though he couldn’t stop himself from smiling and grinding deep into her. “You’ll come back, too, won’t you?”

She nodded, shivering as Omegon began to spill his fertile seed into her. The hot fluid filled her and Alpharius groaned at the sensation, rolling his hips and fucking up into her. He groaned, swiftly joining his brother in filling her.

Her stomach began to swell outwards, her womb filled with their seed. They continued pumping into her, rocking back and forth, Omegon still jostling her body with every thrust. She was openly gasping, mouth wide as bubbles flowed out from her mouth.

There you were, in the middle of the night after sneaking out of bed. Your husband didn’t need to know about this, it was your dirty little secret. You were giving your snack the final touches. Maybe a few more pickled hot peppers on top? Was there still honey in the cupboards? Maybe a dash of whipped cream and it would be perfect. Suddenly, the lights turned on and your husband stood in the door, looking at you.

Roboute Guilliman: Stares at you for a long time without saying a word, trying to process what he’s seeing. He read about cravings, yet experiencing you having them would be entirely different. Did- Did you just growl at him?! Ok, no touching the questionable bowl. Noted. He sits down next to you until you finish and hopes you don’t bite him. Quietly notes down what food you prefer and how you react to certain things. There will be a chart at the end of the week. He regularly updates it for the kitchen staff to take into consideration when cooking your meals.

Sanguinius: Mr. Red Thirst has no ground to judge and actually saw this specific moment coming. He came knowing how insecure you were about your newly found food habits and to comfort you. You don’t have to be ashamed about it, you aren’t weird or disgusting. Yes, he still loves you. Yes, you look beautiful even though there is grease on your nightclothes. And face. And on the counter. He’d even cook for you if it’d make you happy.

Lion: Judgement. Heavy judgement. Boy that’s a lot of judgement. He is one of the few who’d actually sneer at you. What were you thinking going to the kitchen on your own?! Not telling him, not taking a bodyguard, a serf or even a watcher along?! Are you trying to get assassinated??? And also, whatever you made cannot be good for you. Put it down and go back to sleep with him. Now. Will drag you along if he has to and will grumble the whole way back to bad.

Rogal Dorn: “…the structural integrity of that sandwich is concerning and not according to imperial standard.” He won’t see an issue with you eating strange things, he would see an issue with your way of preparing them. Dorn doesn’t really eat for joy. To him, it’s a chore. Flavourless nutry paste will suffice, no need to waste resources on him. He is aware enough not to impose his beliefs on you however and tries to assist you in making your snacks. Be prepared for architectural comparisons, because apparently, your sandwich and the imperial palace have more in common than you thought.

Perturabo: At first he was worried when he noticed you sneaking off. He is a very light sleeper, feeling the mattress dip was enough to wake him. His trust issues made him fear the worst, so seeing you just eat was a relief. Even though he will openly criticise your choice of food. “Are you a garbage chute?” His nose wrinkles as he watches you eat. However, he won’t take your food away, even though he wants to. Instead, he scoffs at you and waits for you to finish.

Jagathai Khan: The Khan will lightly chuckle as he looks at your stuffed cheeks. Is his poor spouse hungry? Next time just tell him, he would’ve had a servant bring you food. You are not supposed to leave your warm bed. What if you get cold and get sick? He’d make the both of you tea while you eat and later carry you to bed. Your little adventure to the kitchen was enough exertion for one night.

Horus Lupercall: Look at you :) His beloved spouse, nourishing themselves and his heir. Horus is one of the proudest parents. He doesn’t mind your cravings because he read every single book there is about pregnancy and the food seems tame enough. Pulls you into his lap and actually feeds you. Have some more. You and his little warrior need all the strength you can get. If the food you want is difficult to make, he’d call a servant to prepare it for you.

Mortarion: He doesn’t mind. Mortarion understands human biology on a different level. Cravings are your bodies way of telling him that you lack a certain thing. Would analyse your meal, understand the components and make you a healthier alternative.

Angron: Is the meal bad for you or the baby? Actively endangering either of you? No? Great. He’ll wait for you in bed. Please hurry.

Fulgrim: First of all, he was woken from his beauty sleep for this?! His beloved darling debauching themselves with labour and unfitting food?! Darling, he will have the chef woken up so that he may prepare you a dish more suitable to your station. You are the spouse of the Phoenician. Whatever you made yourself is not good enough for you. Just sit down and let him massage your shoulders while the chef cooks you a gourmet meal Fulgrim can approve of.

Ferrus Manus: … “I prepared a meal plan for you. You eat what’s on your meal plan.” Won’t take no or begging for an answer, will drag you back to bed and tell serfs to discard your midnight snacks. He means well but his behaviour is controlling and will lead to more conflict. Stand your ground and be ready to argue against an absolute iron wall of a man.

Vulkan: He isn’t concerned with you eating strange things, he is concerned with the fact that you are up at this hour. You need rest! Will sit down with you and keep you company while you eat. If your choice of food is especially spicy, he’d joke about how his baby was already craving fire before even knowing the forges of Nocturne.

Konrad Curze: Would grab a spoon and eat with you. This man grew up on ally rats, no matter what you brewed together, it will not be worse. Shockingly enough, Konrad likes most of your concoctions and would eat them even after your child was born. Be warned though, do not accept any meat he brings you. It may or may not be human. Weird-pregnancy-craving-midnight-snacks become a bonding activity between the two of you.

Corvus Corax: Graces you with a long, empty, look before he slowly backs into the nearest shadow. In case you were missing a certain ingredient, it would appear out of the shadows with no words and no note attached. Please don’t talk about this next time you see him.

Lorgar Aurelian: Will pray for this to pass quickly at first. The kind to look through scripture to figure out if this is somehow concerning or blasphemous. In case he doesn’t find anything speaking out against this, he will think it’s divine guidance leading you to nourishment. The next day he would hold a sermon on the topic of pregnancy and how the appetite of pregnant people is the will of the divine.Thanks to you, a lot of expecting parents on Monarchia got their favourite dinner that day.

Magnus the red: That looks interesting, let him try some! Magnus is naturally curious, so you doing something new or different immediately catches his attention. Has he opened warp holes before to get you foreign delicacies quicker? Yes. Please don’t tell anyone. His sleep schedule is fucked anyway, so he would sit with you and read while you eat. You’d be the one dragging him back to bed actually.

Leman Russ: I can see this going in two different directions. On one hand, Leman is a provider and so is his pack. The moment he realises you are hungry he’d board a shuttle to the next best planet and slay whatever beast has the great misfortune of looking tasty. He’d turn it into a bonding activity between himself and his sons. Now alternatively, he also has a very sensitive nose. So depending on what you eat the great wolf king might actually gag. In that case, please brush your teeth before sleeping next to him.

Alpharius/Omegon: The bowl is Alpharius. Jokes aside, both would find the situation highly amusing. Not because of your choice in snacks, but because of your secrecy. That was their thing. Is their baby influencing your behaviour to act like them? Would absolutely take your appetite as a challenge. Which twin finds more things you like? They scuttle through the kitchen and have you taste different things, any time you like something the one who suggested it gets a point. The winner is of course Alpharius.

…

•When you're around Alpharius and Omegon, you quickly notice how seamlessly they communicate non-verbally. Often they appear to be having a conversation in silence, exchanging glances or subtle gestures that only they understand, showcasing their deep connection and shared thoughts.

•Both twins are highly protective of you. Alpharius, with his strategic mind, often devises plans to keep you safe during dangerous missions. Omegon, with his more empathetic demeanor tends to reassure you during moments of uncertainty. You feel that blend of strength and gentleness whenever you’re in their presence.

•They have a penchant for telling you secrets about their plans or the workings of the Legion, but it’s clear they choose what to share very carefully. They might joke about how you’re “not in the Legion” but still seem to have your own role in their lives, engaging you as a confidant.

•Whenever the three of you share a meal, it's an engaging affair filled with light banter and laughter. Alpharius might recount a tense mission with a twist of humor, while Omegon would cater to your tastes, ensuring you’re enjoying every bite, often stealing glances at you while he serves.

•There are rare occasions when you witness a softer side of them—whether it’s a fleeting expression of doubt or concerns about their roles. During these times, you find yourself comforting them, reminding them of their humanity amidst the chaos of war.

•When a tough decision arises, you’ll often see them approach it from different angles. Alpharius emphasizes the larger picture and strategy, while Omegon focuses on the individual impact of each choice. They often engage you in these conversations, valuing your perspective.

•Both twins show their affection in small ways—Alpharius might surprise you with a small token from a significant mission while Omegon might jot down sweet notes or draw you something when he thinks of you. These gestures while subtle, speak volumes about their feelings.

•You often find yourself in deep discussions with them late at night, where the three of you share thoughts about the universe, life, and the burden of leadership. These intimate moments provide a safe haven where they allow themselves to express hopes and fears they rarely vocalize in broader circles.

•Regardless of the challenges ahead both Alpharius and Omegon see you as an integral part of their journey. They share laughs, strategize together, and tackle obstacles with the deep bond they’ve built with you, proving that even amidst the chaos, there is always a room for warmth and companionship.

A = Aftercare Unnervingly efficient. One of them, whoever finished last will clean you up, soothe you, and tuck you in. The other? Likely watching from the shadows, silent, present. Their aftercare is gentle but clinical. Precise. Yet somehow, when they stroke your hair, you feel like the most cherished asset in the galaxy.

B = Body part Their tongues. Both identical, both lethal, whether used for interrogation or tracing lines down your thighs. They know how to speak, how to lick, how to manipulate.

C = Cum Slick, hot, and plentiful. They're trained not to waste a drop. Inside you, on your skin, over your mouth, they finish deliberately. Sometimes together. Sometimes one waits, watching the other fill you before claiming the same place, still warm and wet with his twin’s seed.

D = Dirty secret They’ve switched places mid-fuck. You didn’t notice. One slipped out, the other slipped in, and the only sign was a shift in angle, a breath you couldn’t place. They talk about it afterward, wondering how long they can keep fooling you. Sometimes, you know and let them.

E = Experience Unnatural. Encyclopedic. They know techniques from every culture, every era. But sex with them isn’t about practice, it’s about observation. They watch you. Every gasp is logged. Every clench filed away. You’ve never felt more studied or more desired.

F = Favorite position You between them. One beneath, one behind. Their hands overlap across your body. One holds your hips, the other your face. Their voices are low, synchronized: “Don’t move. Let us have you.”

G = Goofy They’re not humorous during sex, they’re terrifyingly quiet. Smirks, slight huffs of breath, shared glances. They’ll tease you emotionally, make cryptic comments, ask things like “Which one am I?” while fucking you hard enough to shatter thought.

H = Hair They keep everything well-groomed, facial hair, body hair, pubes. You’ll never find a hair out of place. It’s uncanny, how alike they are even down there. Same texture, same scent. You’ve touched one’s abs before and been sure it was the other’s.

I = Intimacy Detached, yet consuming. They don’t romance you. They study you, invade you, map your body with hands that seem to already know your softest spot. But every now and then, when one cradles your face and says your name like a vow, it feels real enough to hurt.

J = Jack off Alone? Rarely. Together? Often. They’ve watched each other stroke off while imagining you between them. Once, they came in perfect sync—hands fisting their cocks while murmuring your name at the exact same moment. They talk strategy afterward. What you’d say. How you’d look on your knees.

K = Kink

Mirroring. They love doing the same thing at once. One on each nipple, one at your throat while the other licks between your legs. You’re always the center of a ritual they never explain.

Identity play. “Who am I?” They’ll ask. They’ll switch mid-session. They’ll whisper different names. And they dare you to guess wrong.

Overstimulation. If you can’t come anymore, they keep going. Until you’re sobbing, begging, gasping.

Double penetration. Whether it’s mouth and cunt, ass and fingers, cock and toy, you will be filled. By them. Completely.

L = Location Anywhere that feels secure. Sealed rooms, hidden chambers, blacked-out transports. They’ve fucked you on a cloaked ship during warp travel, in a bunker under Terra, in a mirrored room where your own reflection begged alongside you.

M = Motivation Control. Precision. The intimacy of power. But also the thrill of you knowing them, and not knowing them. Your gasps, your vulnerability, your surrender to uncertainty, that’s what turns them on.

N = No They don’t tolerate disrespect, mocking, or ridicule. If you try to play games that undermine their control, disobedience for ego’s sake, they’ll leave you shaking and unsatisfied. They punish, but not cruelly. They expect you to learn.

O = Oral Receiving. They guide your head, stroke your jaw, praise you. If you use your hands too much, they’ll gently pin them aside. They want your mouth, not your fingers.

P = Pace Unpredictable. Sometimes slow and reverent, just one of them, kissing down your chest. Other times they take you together, hard and fast and overwhelming. They pace themselves like hunters with prey that already surrendered.

Q = Quickie If time allows, yes. They’re efficient. One distracts the world, the other takes you behind a wall. You’ll come in minutes, shivering, body marked. They never say which one it was. You’re left panting, wondering.

R = Risk High. They thrive on the edge of taboo. Twin mind games. Experimental bondage. Sensory deprivation. Pleasure algorithms. They won’t hurt you, but they’ll absolutely make you question your reality, and who’s inside you at any moment.

S = Stamina Terrifying. Between the two of them, they can go for hours. One starts. The other finishes. Then they switch. And again. They never tire. You’ll be begging for mercy long before either of them breaks a sweat.

T = Toys Plenty, designed by Omegon, tested by Alpharius. Sleek, quiet, remote-controlled. Some only respond to their fingerprints. They’ll slide something into you in the morning and turn it on at dinner. One speaks calmly while the other watches you writhe.

U = Unfair Extremely. They edge you for hours. One brings you close while the other pulls away. They whisper conflicting instructions. “Touch yourself.” “No, hands behind your back.” You don’t get to cum until you’re in tears.

V = Volume Quiet. Too quiet. One breathes against your throat, the other moans low into your chest. The silence makes your own sounds unbearable, every gasp, whimper, or plea echoes like an offering. They drink in your voice like water in the desert.

W = Wild card They once fucked you in your own bed while disguised as you. One fucked “you” from behind while the other whispered praises from the front. You didn’t realize until later, there were two of your voices, but only one of you.

X = X-ray Identical. Long, thick, slightly curved upwards. Cool to the touch at first, but they heat up fast. Their cocks are designed for precision pleasure, slippery, veiny, flushed a faint pink. Sometimes they swap places just to confuse your body’s muscle memory.

Y = Yearning Constant. But they hide it behind blank faces, gloved fingers, and veiled words. Their desire is a need to consume. They don’t just want to fuck you, they want to become the only thing you ever crave.

You couldn't remember how long you'd been here.

Not just here. This room, this bed, these silk restraints wound expertly around your wrists and ankles, but here, with them. You'd long stopped counting the days. Time blurred into a haze of whispered commands, cool fingers trailing along sensitive skin, and pleasure that became its own form of torment. Somewhere along the way, your will had dissolved like mist under twin suns.

Now you were just theirs. Mind-softened, body obedient, waiting.

The room was dark, save for the gentle blue glow of a lumen strip running along the ceiling. It was always dim here. Intimate. Controlled. Like everything they did. The silk cuffs were tight enough to remind you you couldn’t move, not unless they let you.

A cool hand brushed down your thigh.

You shivered.

A second hand cupped your jaw.

You whimpered.

Two presences loomed over you, familiar in the way a cage becomes comforting after too long. You couldn't see their faces, one always wore a mask, the other liked to change his appearance just to confuse you. One of them laughed softly. It rumbled through your bones.

"Ready to play again, little one?" one of them murmured near your ear, breath hot. You couldn’t tell which of them it was. That was the point.

"Rules are the same," the other said. You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Guess who’s touching you."

"And if you're wrong..." A fingertip circled your nipple, sending a sharp jolt straight down your spine.

"...we punish you."

You whimpered again. Not out of fear. Not anymore.

"And if you're right..." Another mouth pressed to your thigh, tongue warm and slow.

"...you might get a reward."

They began. Slow, as always. Hands moving over your body like artists sketching the outline of a masterpiece. One hand at your throat. Another slipping between your legs. Hot breath on your stomach. One of them nipped at your ribs, gentle teeth dragging across skin made hypersensitive by endless training. A slow slide of fingers teased you open, slick, skilled, patient. Measured only by your moans.

"Guess," one whispered, voice husky.

"Who am I, pet?"

Your lips parted, trembled. You thought. Tried to remember the little tricks they taught you to tell them apart, Alpharius always touched with surgical precision. Omegon was more erratic, improvisational. But they'd long since learned to mimic each other just to break your mind further.

"...Alpharius?" you breathed.

A chuckle.

Wrong.

The fingers inside you withdrew with cruel slowness. A slap echoed, sharp across your thigh.

"Wrong," said the voice. "Again."

A hand closed around your throat, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make your pulse pound.

Then lips were at your chest. Tongue swirling, teeth nipping. The other slid behind you, how had they moved so fast? You were on your side now, body held like a doll between them.

"Try again," one cooed.

"Who's holding you now?"

The hand at your throat slid upward, threading into your hair. Another hand gripped your hip possessively, fingers digging into your skin.

You bit your lip. "O... Omegon?"

Silence.

Then, pleasure.

The fingers returned, thrusting with punishing rhythm, coaxing moans from you. The other kissed you hungrily, lips devouring yours, tongue claiming. You moaned into his mouth as your hips bucked helplessly into the hand between your thighs.

"Good pet," the one in front whispered.

"You got it right," the other praised, voice hot against your neck. "Do it again."

You didn’t want to guess wrong. But they made it impossible.

One pulled back. The other flipped you onto your stomach, silk restraints tugging just enough to leave you breathless. Your legs were spread, knees sinking into the soft mattress. The cool air licked between your thighs, and then, warmth. A tongue. One of them was licking you from behind, slow and greedy.

"Guess," came the muffled voice from between your thighs.

Your head lolled back, lips parted in a whimper. That tongue worked like a machine. Controlled, insistent.

"...Alpharius," you gasped.

A growl of approval.

Nails raked down your back, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make you arch. A second hand slid beneath your belly, pressing your hips up, forcing you to feel everything.

The tongue moved faster.

"That’s twice now," someone whispered at your ear, licking the shell of it. "Maybe your brain isn’t as broken as we thought."

Then teeth sank into your shoulder.

You cried out.

"Or maybe it is," came the other voice, smug and laughing.

They switched. You knew it. Their touch changed. The rhythm altered.

Now it was fingers again. Deep. Curling just right. The other one kissed down your spine, whispering your name, whispering things he’d done to you, things he would do.

"Guess."

You were shaking now. The pleasure too much. Everything hurt, but not in a way you wanted to stop. Your wrists pulled against the silks, but not to get free, just to have something to hold onto as you started to fall apart.

"...Omegon," you sobbed.

The hand withdrew.

Wrong.

"No," came the purr. "That was me."

A slap across your ass made you cry out. Another on your inner thigh. You whimpered, back arching instinctively. They loved when you cried from being denied. When you writhed helplessly on the bed they’d made your prison.

"Try again."

The other was behind you now, lining up with your slick entrance. He paused.

"Last chance."

"Alpharius," you whispered, voice trembling.

They said nothing.

Then he pushed in.

You screamed. In pleasure. In surrender. He was too thick, too deep, too much, and you wanted all of it. He moved with slow, punishing thrusts, forcing you to feel every inch. The other climbed onto the bed in front of you, fingers tangling in your hair, guiding your mouth where he wanted it.

You opened obediently.

"Good girl," he whispered. "You know your place."

You moaned around him, tears streaming down your face, not from pain, but from how good it all felt. Alpharius fucked you like he owned you. Omegon used your mouth like it belonged to him.

Because it did.

You belonged to both of them.

Every time they played this game, you broke a little more. Every time you guessed wrong, they pushed further. Every time you guessed right, they made you need them even more.

They were training you. Shaping you. Twisting your mind until you didn’t want to guess right anymore. Until the punishment felt like reward.

Until you begged for the confusion. For the touch. For the voice that wasn’t quite the same. For the two hands that felt like one soul dividing you from within.

And even as the world blurred again, and your body began to tremble with the beginning of release, you knew–

They would never let you go.