#conquest smut

[inkivaari]

hear me hear me

freaky beautiful old man conquest with his viltrumite stamina and old age, you just know he's lasting days if he feels like it, only stopping when the other has to catch her/their breath and he's just looking at them full of a strange fondness and just counting the seconds before they are ready for him again because we know it ain't never enough for this man🙏🙏

yes yes oh god YES this man, despite being (at the very least) 6000 years older than you and even considered old and potentially past suitability for mating in the eyes of his people, fucks that pussy UP every single time. over and over and over. he will not stop until one of you passes out. 98% of the time, that's you. it's okay, he knows your precious body gets overloaded, no matter how he cock-trains you. he loves it, being able to fry your mind like that, make you feel so much you stop feeling at all.

when it all gets too much for his little one, he knows the signs. not just going limp, but going quiet. your eyes glaze over or close, you're unresponsive to his teasing. he knows his darling has had enough. he slows it all right down to a stop, caressing your face, sitting up from you, letting you breathe.

you'll come back to it, even mewl out a soft, confused "why'd you stop?", but he'll chuckle softly, soothing your furrowed brow with a kiss. he can't stop touching you, that would be heresy. he gets you in the bath and lathers that body up in those flowery soaps you like, that make you smell like a little pixie. caresses your bruised skin, the bites, the hickeys, the swells. reverent and solemn. lets you fuss, lets you whine. he knows, he's a lot. but you're so good at taking him, so good at opening that little body up for him, that gorgeous flower between your legs always able to bloom for him now, if he so much as purrs at the right frequency it knows to prepare itself. ah, but he knows it's hard work, being so good. he takes good care of what little he does own, he wants his sweet little one to last. wants her to be happy and healthy and always associating his touch with all the good things in the world, not the bad. he wraps you up in a towel, bundles you in his arms, lays you back down in bed and massages your body with your lotions and oils, loves this part the most, when he gets to see your curves slick and shiny and glossy like a polished statue of some celestial goddess. he's always very good at bringing you back to yourself after you lose yourself so many times to his cock. and there you were, his little fighter, beaming up at him like the eager little kitten you were, mewling happily when his rough hand cups your pussy. that little happy sound tells him it's okay to press his fingers inside and get you stretched out again for the next round <3

[femmeftal]

ㅤ۫ ‎ ೀ Slick situation

⠀ ͎꒷ pairing : conquest x !fem reader

⠀ ͎꒷ idea : conquest having a bit of fun with his “kitten” before heading off to fight mark

⠀ ͎꒷ warning : nsfw 18+, mdni petnames and breeding, prob more tbh..

ass up and head down, your moans would be muffled from the white sheets beneath you and your partner. the sinful sound his hips meeting yours bounced off the rooms wall, and so did your sultry moans “ k-keep fucking going “ your hoarse throat could barely even let you say something after the throat fuck he gave you. “ dont you dare stop! “ the pitch in your voice getting higher, like your squeals had combined with the sentences you had yelled out. “ im not stopping anytime sooner, you’ll take my seed like you always do in the end “ conquest groaned out, lowering his head to yours whispering such dirty things. he had knew you were weak to his dirty talk especially in bed, oh how you were like the back of his hand. everything you did and reacted to in the bed was taken a note of the way you’d twitch from the way he thrusts his hips, or when he rolls his hips around you tighten up in a certain way. “ i ruined my kitten up so much didnt i? who will forgive me doing such “ he whispered wrapping both of his arms around your body jerking you back so his thick veiny cock gets to go deeper. “mgh mfuckkk “ sweat glistened above your forehead eyes rolling up from the sensation of the tip of his cock hitting your G-spot, you couldn't run away but you didn’t want to anyway. “ you’re just the cutest when you’re like this, small, fragile, and just so fucking hot “ moving one of his arms to wrap around your neck. this was the hottest part for you, choking while he moved himself in and out your sloppy used cunt. “ i wan moree.. just give me more! “ chucking conquest knew you were always greedy, and greedy you are. this is the best dick you’ve had in a while of your life, only meeting conquest from your battles with him turned into frequent night stands. “ can you handle more, can you really take what i’ll give you “ thrusts getting rougher from every word he had said in his sentence. “ yess! i’ll take it.. i wont run i wont do anythingg but take it “ you sounded dumb, looked the part too but god you couldnt help it when he talked down on you like this, ruining you like youre just a common street hooker. “ then fucking take it “ grabbing onto your two arms and arching you up, his pace got faster. plunging his hips faster and rough into you. both of your highs were close, chests heaving like you both had ran the most longest race of you life of course you were the first one to come, you guys been at it for atleast the whole day “ im gonna..gonna OH! “ your orgasm hitting you like a bullet, the bullet being the end of your attempt to not release. your white oozing cum coating his cock as he had still continued to hammer inside of you “ dont worry little girl im almost there “ his grip on your arms tightening his last final thrusts being the roughest out of the ones he’d previously gave you. “ take it.. take IT “ squealing out you could feel the overflow of his cum taming your walls making you feel more stuffed. you and him werent done, you knew it.

[ernest-rimmingway]

⭐Soft⭐

Tags: [mlw][mdni][watersports][fingering][overstimulation][edging][dacryphilia][clit play][bladder pressing][mentions of cunnilingus][gentle mdom][slight exhibitionism]

honorary tag: @lucky-beheaded ⭐

You're a pet.

Nothing more than a toy to sate the desire of intimacy of a monster. A beast without a name, only a purpose.

Conquest let's out a soft breath, hands moving towards your hips before he pulls you into his lap, face buried in the curve of your neck, bulging muscles wrapping around your form as he takes a deep breath, inhaling that sweet scent that clung to you.

He's not a patient man.

Not in the slightest.

But he would argue that the shift in your scent, from something bitter, akin to a deer being cornered by a hunter to the saccharine scent of clementines and honey, the smell he's only gotten whiffs of between lovers on the planets he's conquered in the name of Viltrum.

You're soft. Pliable. Weak.

Your hands cradle him affectionately, fingertips tracing the scars that adorn his body, traced the sharp, jagged lines of his bones. And he mimics you.

Hands that have crushed worlds cup your jaw, lips that snarl purse sweetly to press kisses against the fat of your cheeks and fingers that have gouged at eyes until rupture....

...circle your clit with slow intensity that makes your belly dip and your mind hazy.

"My little human." He coos softly, strong nose pressed against where your pulse thrums erratically, hands grasping at his bulky forearms, your lashes flutter and sounds slip from your lips. Perfect, rosy lips that part to let out those delightful little noises, glossy with saliva or whatever little thing he brings back from the ruins of worlds he takes.

Massive, corded muscles keep your thighs parted and you don't know how long he's kept you nestled against him, keeping you on the precipice of a world shattering orgasm.

"So.... Fragile, so... Weak. So very... Soft."

Your mind's blank, eyes bleary as you try to control your bladder because like NLE Choppa said, 'don't cum quick, I control my bladder'.

You're convulsing, clawing at his thighs as he keeps you spread so obscenely wide, glistening cunt facing the ajar door of his quarters. It's nerve-wrecking. The fact that anyone could walk in, and just...

Watch.

"So... Soft..." Conquest's free hand moves to press on your lower belly, gentle pressure from a heavy hand and your back arches, lips parting as you take a shaky breath.

You're so, so very close. Your lungs are burning with sounds you've insisted to swallow down, your skin prickles with sweat and teardrops threaten to spill. You've never been edged this long.

Much to contrary belief, Conquest always gives in. Eager to please, even more eager to allow himself the sight of your cunt pulsing, slick slipping past your holes to pool beneath you.

"Wait-wait-wait," the pleas to make him stop fall on half-deaf ears, his fingers slowing to a gentle stroke between your slippery folds, each stroke causes a squelchy noise to slip past your puffy pussy, alongside trickles of slick that soak into the silken sheets beneath you, "I have to... Pee..."

The admission is sheepish. You have no idea why.

This beast of a man has stood in the doorway of his bathroom, watching you relieve yourself with hearts in his eye, his large form filling the entryway and he's proceeded to lap at your cunt, your legs obscenely wide and your hands weakly pushing at his head.

"Then do it." Conquest whispers, hot breath ghosting over your ear and your heart drops to your spine.

"What— no— you big back- I'm not pissing mysel—llff...."

Your eyes roll back in your head when one of his meaty fingers pushes into your cunt, and he groans.

"So... Tight..." He groans, and you can feel the way his cock pushes against your lower back and you're already sweating bullets, trying to figure out how it'll fit when he eventually decides that he wants to fuck you.

You're surprised that he hasn't.

Surprised that he prefers to watch you being split open on thick fingers, his tongue lapping at your glossy cunt while he ruts against the base of his bed.

Rubbing his cock raw as he pushes you past limits that have you seeing limbo before he yanks you back to where you're meant to be.

Wrapped in strong arms.

"Piss yourself." Conquest whispers. Ticklish kisses pressed to your temples, one hand fucking your cunt with slow, deep thrusts, his rough palm grinding against your clit. While the other remains pushing down... Down... Down...

The embarassment comes second to the relief.

Fluids trickling down your thighs, soaking into the sheets and dripping into a puddle on the marble floor and you bring your hands up to hide your face.

And that coil in your belly snaps and you don't know how to feel.

Cumming around his thick finger, grinding your hips against his palm and you're whining, writhing all while making a mess that you're probably going to be too fucked out to clean. But by God, do you intend to.

Your nails are clawing at his thighs, not even ripping a stitch in his uniform and the longer he keeps stroking that gooey spot just behind your clit, the more your mind turns to a hazy mass of mush.

"Fuck... S'too much— s'too much."

This time... Your pleas do fall on deaf ears. Conquest continues to push you over the edge, your cunt gushing around his fingers and it's only when your eyes well up, fat droplets of salty tears rolling down your flushed cheeks that he pulls his finger out of you.

His tongue drags along your cheek, licking up the rivulets of tears, as well as perspiration before he shifts, setting you down on the edge of the cushioned bed.

Conquest makes slow work of arranging a plethora of pillows around you, surrounding you and keeping you nested in place before he kneels. Knees bitten by the cold of the floor but he nears his face to your pussy.

Flushed, overstimulated and glossy.

Eyes stare up at you from beneath snowy lashes. One, a beautiful and pale shade of brown, pupil large and the other, the palest of blues, nearing white. Blind, without a pupil and bisected by a scar.

Rough features, made for destruction and your hand moves to stroke along his cheek, and he inhales sharply, reveling in the softness of your touch.

Before he leans forward, his tongue lapping at your cunt with slow, unpracticed strokes. Rough and messy, you watch as he keeps his eyes on you.

"Soft..." He coos. "So, so soft. And warm. And wet..."

[lovelywetdreamer]

I know it is too early in the afternoon for this, but I believe Conquest is the biggest tease in the universe. Conquest will have you riding his fingers for hours before he consider putting his cock in your cunt. Conquest ways of motivate you for today is waking up with his mouth sucking tight on your clit as he twisting your nipples. When you are about to soaked the bald nut case, he completely stop making you want more. "I'll let you come once you successfully complete today mission, mitten."

[theartofsimpatry]

🔞

Conquest calls you kitten while you climb up on his lap, he likes it when you’re bold like this. When you tell him that you’re gonna ride him and he needs to be good and “take it”, woof, that gets him so excited!! He’s gonna motivate you to keep riding him even when you’re tired as hell! Slap him around! Squeeze his balls with all your strength! Bite his neck till he bleeds!

[oystermark]

Can I request a size difference for trans masc reader and conquest? Like the reader and him fight, and the reader loses so conquest takes him as if he's prize. Like full Nelson type shit. Has reader sobbing from overstimulation and gets him to squet or something.

conquest x tmasc!reader

a/n: im gonna try to keep these short and sweet since im doing a conquest marathon of sorts for today! ! tysm for ur request, im taking nsfw conquest reqs 'till april 5th!

cw: conquest himself, readers genitals are referred as 'clit, cervix, hole' ,dubious consent from the reader, conquest just bullying the poor reader</3 not proofread

yeah no, you were a fucking dumbass. what the hell were you, a rookie healer at best, thinking you had anything against a viltrumite? trying to protect civilians like you yourself weren't a bug he is currently stepping on, you can feel your ribs about to break. oh well, at least you saved 3 people, hopefully.

you feel air fill your lungs again so violently fast that you start choking on said air, conquest watching you with an amused smirk on his face. fucking prick.

"you know, i really enjoy toying with your kind,"

he pulls you up with a hold on your neck, the metal pinching your flesh as you hiss, if you thought you were big or small before whether in height, weight or muscle- it doesn't matter, he's just towering over you, he could envelope you with just one arm. you groan when he squeezes the hold he has on your throat to capture your fading attention,

"you make the prettiest fuckin' noises,"

his hand just- rips away the bottom part of your hero suit and you feel air hit your now exposed sex as you start to whimper in fear, you couldn't- speak anymore, you couldn't find your voice. fuck.

he cackles in what you assume is delight for him, its certainly fucking harrowing for you but judging from his reaction he doesn't give a shit whats between those legs of yours, his goals are already set.

"im going to ruin you,"

nsfw

-

you cry out pathetically as you feel the tip of his dick hit your cervix again and again, at this point he isn't even thrusting he's drilling his dick into your poor abused cunt, you already came 5 times, your cum coating his dick as he drives that monster in and out of you. you're head and upper back are laid on the concrete while he's holding the rest of your body up with one hand.

"fuck yes, you're so damn tight, can't believe you're still breathing, atta boy,"

he's being genuine and you don't know if that's worse for you, only being able to let out a small gasp as you close your eyes and feel your abdomen tighten, then as if all tension from your body is ripped, you squirt all over his dick that still hasn't stopped thrusting no matter how tight your hole was, and felt your body finally give up and go limp in his hold.

he halted his movements for a few seconds before biting his bottom lip, you could feel his cock stiffen inside you and a strangled sob forced its way from your throat as you felt him coat your walls with so much cum, literally gushing out of your hole. he wanted to see your cum mix with his properly, so he started to pound with as much strength needed to make you lose your mind as his thumb kept flicking your clit.

your hands finally finding enough energy, you brought one of them up in a silent plea as he chuckled at your cute little antics, "aw, want to hold my hand pretty thing?" he took your hand and bit down on one of your fingers to taste your blood as you came with an exhausted groan.

that groan turned into sobbing as you realize his thumb didn't stop its movements on your clit and his dick wasn't letting you go before it emptied into you again, he took in your tear streaked face, your torn hero costume, the blood seeping from your thighs -the cuts he caused looked delicious to him- you looked... delicious, gorgeous, everything he wanted from his future toy.

he finally set you hips down on the concrete, just to force your legs apart even more, planting each hand on the sides of your head, his mouth close to your ear,

"stand still and take it like the good boy you are, we're done when i say we're done, pet."

[kawaiigirly21]

Some General Headcanons part 2

-Conquest met his wife when he came back from an assignment and saw her standing next to Thragg

-She used to be an advisor to Thragg before promptly requesting a job change to spend more time with Conquest

-For reference, Conquest is from the generation where the civil war took place. Natasha was born sometime afterwards. She is from Nolan's generation

-Conquest STOLE HER FROM THRAGG!!!

-The pair were messing around on the side and Natasha reveled in the fact she had the attention of the strongest Viltrumite, but the moment her eyes met those of Conquest's, she felt something she never felt while laying in Thragg's arms

-She found Conquest charming

-He found her beautiful and alluring

-Conquest STOLE HER FROM THRAGG

-Is he jealous? No. Is he mad his favorite advisor isn't giving it up anymore? Yes. He won't admit it but he misses that pussy

-Conquest and Natasha claim that love doesn't exist in Viltrumite DNA but come on. They LOVE each other

-The pair flirt while on assignments. Well, the assignments are actually for Conquest, Natasha is just there to watch him kill and flex his muscles

-Imagine being an alien trying to avoid being murdered and you see the infamous Viltrumite Conquest flirting with a woman whose rubbing on his biceps that are coated in the blood of your kin

-Sex. Oh boy. That's a post all on its own

-The pair forgo courting and jump right into marriage after one exceptionally hard assignment

-No many people attend. And the ones that do, are close associates of Natasha

-Thragg attended as well. For the sake of trying to intimidate Conquest out of marrying Natasha

-It doesn't work obviously and the two are married in a quick ceremony

To Be Continued

[tlouglazer]

i’m gooning

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤSWEET GIRLㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Viltrumite Men x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How Do They Eat That Kitty?

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Mark Grayson, Nolan Grayson, Thragg, Conquest

☆⁠ NOTES : +18 contacts. Minors DNI. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— MARK GRAYSON ⋆

Mark? Oh, he's obsessed with your pussy. Like it’s his purpose in life. Like he could live between your thighs and never get bored.

The first time he goes down on you, he groans the second his mouth touches you—like he’s addicted to the taste, like he’s never had anything better. His tongue? Everywhere. He licks, he sucks, he’s fucking messy—his mouth is completely drenched, his chin glistening, his jaw aching, but does he stop? Fuck no.

He eats you like he’s making out with your pussy, moaning, whimpering every time your fingers tug at his hair. His hands? Strong and desperate, gripping your thighs, keeping you open, keeping you right where he wants you. And when you grind against his face? Oh, he loses his fucking mind.

"Fuck, baby—yeah, use me—fuck my mouth—God, you taste so fucking good."

And when you cum? He shudders. Literally. Shudders. And then keeps licking, lapping up everything, groaning like he’s getting off on it. His hips are grinding into the bed, desperate for friction, but he doesn’t stop until you’re pushing at his head, too sensitive to handle more.

And even then? He just grins up at you, his lips swollen and glossy, his face a fucking mess.

"Please—just one more? I need it."

— NOLAN GRAYSON ⋆

Nolan eats pussy like he’s doing you a favor—like you should be on your knees thanking him for it. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t dive in like some horny teenager. No, he likes to make you wait. He spreads your thighs wide, takes his sweet fucking time looking at you, smirking when he sees how wet you already are.

"Already dripping? I haven’t even touched you yet."

And then? Oh, baby, you’re fucked.

His tongue is hot and firm, pressing right against your clit in one slow, deliberate lick that makes your hips jerk. And he just chuckles, gripping your thighs tighter so you can’t move. He eats you like a man who knows exactly what he’s doing—his tongue doesn’t just tease, it works you. He flicks, sucks, presses just right, watching your body react to every calculated movement. He’s testing you, seeing what makes you twitch, what makes your breath hitch, what makes you fall apart.

And when you do? When you cum on his tongue, thighs squeezing around his head? He just groans, deep and low, like he’s starving for it. And he keeps going. Of course, he keeps going. His hands hold you down, his tongue fucking into you, lapping up every last drop like he owns you.

Because he does.

"Good girl. Give me another one."

— THRAGG ⋆

You do not survive this.

He doesn’t tease, doesn’t ease you into it—no, this motherfucker pins you down, buries his face between your thighs, and ruins you.

His tongue is rough, fast, overwhelming. He latches onto your clit immediately, sucking so hard your vision goes white, your hips jerking off the bed. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up. You’re squirming, trying to get away because holy fuck, it’s too much—but his hands? Oh, baby, his hands are keeping you right there.

And the noises? Disgusting. Deep, low groans vibrating against your clit, wet slurps as he fucking devours you. His beard? Rubbing you raw, making sure you feel every inch of his mouth on you.

"Mmm—what’s wrong? Too much?" (smirk) "You can take it. You will take it."

And when you cum? He. Does. Not. Stop. Your legs are shaking, your body arching, and he just keeps licking, keeps sucking, keeps feasting until you’re sobbing from overstimulation. And then? He flips you over and does it again.

"You’re not done. I decide when you’re done."

— CONQUEST ⋆

He forces your legs apart, buries his face between your thighs, and sucks your clit so fucking hard you scream. He doesn’t build you up slowly—he wants you wrecked instantly. He eats you like he’s punishing you, like he’s proving a point.

He’s everywhere at once, licking, sucking, fucking into you until you don’t know where the pleasure is hitting you from. And his hands? Shoving your thighs apart, holding you still, forcing you to take it. You try to close your legs? He growls.

"The fuck do you think you’re doing? I didn’t say you could run."

And when you cum? He laughs. Laughs against your overstimulated clit, sucks harder, watches as your body twists, trembles, begs for mercy. But does he stop?

No. He keeps fucking going.

And when you’re ruined, your voice hoarse from screaming his name, your thighs trembling uncontrollably? He just grins, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, looking at your wrecked, soaking pussy like it’s his greatest fucking achievement.

"Aww. Did I break you already?"

"Pathetic."

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[drpsps]

FREAKY TIME FREAKY TIME

Conquest x Half-Breed Viltrumite reader (GN)

SMUT SMUT SMUT with freaky alien anatomy headcanon and such so yk 18+ MDNI

You had heard so much about him your entire life. The second strongest Viltrumite and the oldest.

Conquest.

The name sent shivers down your fellow Viltrumite’s spines.

Pussies. That’s what you thought.

You had joined the empire when you finally got your powers, your Viltrumite parent helping taking over your planet and bringing you to the empire.

You went through basic training, helped weed out weaker Viltrumite’s. You even got to be in General Kregg’s personal circle of soldiers, and eventually Grand Regent Thragg’s.

You remember clearly how it happened. You stood next to Thragg’s throne, watching as the guards and Kregg lead someone into the throne room.

Gasps erupted and your eyes widened.

It was him. Conquest. In all his tall, muscular, old glory.

He knelt in front of Thragg’s throne, but his gaze drifted to you as he spoke.

You couldn’t help but hold eye contact, the moment sending a jolt of something through your body.

They eventually finish their conversation. But Conquest makes a request.

“When I return, I want a moment alone with them.”

He raised his gauntlet, metal finger pointing right at you. Thragg complied and you simply nod.

Days pass before he returns. He had made a few requests. Firstly, that you didn’t bathe while he was gone, even if you trained and did things that made you sweat. Scent was important to Viltrumite’s, it was the difference between identifying friend or foe, arousal and fear. Secondly, he wanted to make sure you were pent up, not allowed to be alone where you could please yourself. And it worked.

You sit in the room, waiting for him, dressed in thin, almost see-through robes, nude under them.

The door opens, and he steps in, eyeing you before slamming the door shut behind him. You felt a sharp pang of arousal in your gut, already excited.

Pussies. You repeat it in your head. They all feared him, yet you were about to be bedded by him.

He takes his time, freeing himself of the grey and white Viltrumite soldier uniform and armor.

You can’t help the way your gaze drops, eyes widening when his cock is free.

Large, Curved, with the familiar ridges every male Viltrumite had to successfully breed, with the thick grey bush.

You couldn’t help the shiver that ran through you. To be fair, you were a virgin.

You slide out of the robes, spreading your legs, displaying yourself to him.

In a second, he’s pinning you to the bed. He slots his large hips between your legs, pinning your hands above your head with his gauntlet, his other hand gripping your throat.

He presses the head of his cock against you, working you open without warning.

You gasp loudly, eye-lids fluttering at the sudden intrusion. Your face scrunches up at the sting of it, trying to adjust to the sudden feeling of him penetrating you.

He moves slowly, carefully stretching you out around him. The ridges grind deliciously against your tight walls, dragging a moan out of you.

Your back arches off the bed the deeper he goes. You can hear him occasionally grunt or groan, eyes focused on your face.

Once he’s fully inside you, he allows you a moment to adjust to him. The more you squirm, the more moans fall from you.

You carefully lock your legs around his waist, keeping him close, which urges him on. He begins moving, and in a moment he’s setting a rough and unforgiving pace.

You can’t control the way the moans and gasps spill from your throat. Every movement is a mix of pain and that intense pleasure.

The thing was, that you didn’t know, was that Conquest was aware of your heritage. You were only a half-breed, much weaker than him, and for some odd reason your confidence despite that fact aroused him deeply. You were strong regardless of it.

He picks up the pace, slamming into the spot that makes you cry out in pleasure, back arching off the bed. He takes advantage of that, wrapping his arms around your waist and angling his hips to abuse that spot.

He buried his face against your neck, inhaling your scent deeply, and it only aroused him more.

You dig your nails into his shoulders, trying to ground yourself regardless of the intense pleasure. Your eyes have already started rolling back, head tilted back and mouth agape, loud moans and cries of pleasure escaping you.

It doesn’t take much more for you to cum, body going rigid, hips stuttering against him. Your eyes squeeze shut, mouth agape as a loud moan escapes you. You felt hot, sweat coating your skin.

Conquest bites down roughly on the spot where your neck and shoulder connects, slamming into you a few more times before pushing in to the base, cumming inside you.

He holds you against him until finishes, carefully pulling back and panting, teeth covered in a thin layer of your blood, skin glistening with sweat. He releases you, tapping your hip for you to move.

You slip off him and out of his grasp, lying back against the bed lazily. Conquest plops down next to you, panting heavily.

“You did good. Might have to keep you.”

He practically purrs the words out, and you shiver. Honestly? You weren’t against the idea.

“I’ve been lonely for so long. Everyone’s scared of me. But not you.”

You tilt your head, looking at him, seeing the almost reverential look on his face. Perhaps even affectionate.

You repeat that word. Pussies. You couldn’t fear him if you tried.

[inkivaari]

𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐜𝐨𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲/𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 (𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐚𝐲), 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐟��𝐱 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞™

conquest who scoops you up from the rubble of your home, flies miles above earth, and licks his thumb to wipe the blood and soot from your soft little face. a pretty little thing, with wide terrified eyes like little moons, and lips that, though bleeding and chapped now, would be pink and pretty like the flesh of a cherry.

conquest who is charmed at how you wiggle and curse in his iron grip. one flex of his finger, and your bones would crumble to dust. but you were so soft... your tender skin still carried a hint of that sweet feminine scent, creamy and light.

conquest who gives you an ultimatum. become his, or he'll drop you back to earth and let you die with the rest of your people. it wouldn't phase him in the slightest, he's crushed flowers like you before without hesitation. still, he can't help but smile tenderly when your little mouth mewls and begs for his mercy.

and this is his mercy.

a quaint home on Viltrum, isolated from the rest of the community of Viltrumites, not that you could complain. not like they'd save you.

conquest who lays out his expectations for you: do not leave the house unless accompanied by him, look after yourself and make yourself pretty for when he comes back from 'work', cook for him, clean for him, mate with him each and every night. and never, EVER refer to him by his given name.

you start out with 'sir'.

conquest who rewards your good behaviour with gruff praises and rough touches, his big hands kneading at your breasts from behind as he towers over you, watching you keenly as you chop veggies without complaint.

'would you look at that... good woman,' he purrs, his big warm body up against your back, chuckling deeply when the thick, meaty press of his hardened cock against your back makes you squeak and nearly slice the top of your finger. 'it's okay, little one... you're doing so well. i can be patient for good little kittens like you.'

conquest who eats with relish and abandon, his big cruel heart swelling for his sweet little wife, who eats so slowly across from him. you know what's coming, you're trying to delay the inevitable. it's the funniest thing in the world to him.

'come on, kitten. it's time.'

conquest who surprises you when he takes your clothes off so gently, as if he were undressing a glass doll, his grunts becoming purrs as he explores your tender body with his giant, calloused hands. chuckles when your little nipples stiffen when he runs a thumb over them just right, hums contemplatively as the scent of your little cunt reaches his sensitive nose. slick, warm, and ready to accept his seed. but he wants to try something first.

conquest whose unshakable war drum of a pulse quickens when he bullies his head between your thighs and probes past your folds with his thick, slobbery tongue, the delectable taste of your juices like the finest victory banquet, the gorgeous whimpers and babbles from your lips rousing his heart and body better than any cries of war.

conquest who doesn't stop nosing and licking and slobbering over that pretty cunt until your thighs are shaking and you yowl weakly for mercy, your release saturating his wiry moustache several times over. he kneels on the bed, towering above you, chuckling fondly as you mewl for him, your expression soft, that awful frown and furrowed brow nowhere to be seen. you're in bliss, and he gave that to you. something inside him melts, while something else clicks into place.

conquest who takes his time when mating. he knows your species is delicate, but he's learning how to push its limits. he knows how to fit his big, meaty cock inside your little hole, listens to what angles make you cry with pain and whine with pleasure. he shushes you like a fussy kitten, presses his palm gently down on your lower tummy to feel the swell of his manhood moulding your precious gummy walls into his shape, croons softly, 'look, little one... look at how well you take me. like you were made to hold my cock inside you.'

conquest who quickly becomes devoted to his beautiful girl. this little thing, who was supposed to be a trophy, a decoration, a pet for his amusement, and who had instead smoothed over centuries of loneliness and despair with a smile. soon enough, he spent more and more time at home. when he did leave, which he was reluctant to do more and more nowadays, he would bring back offerings to his wife, presenting them for her appraisal with a grunt. a slightly crushed wildflower, a sparkling meteorite shard, pastries from several planets away that he'd kept warm by holding them close to his body. it was enough to excuse the amount of blood that covered him, that you'd wash off him reverently in the large bath, sitting in his lap as you lathered up his burly, hairy torso, not hiding your soft smile at his pleased purrs that made your body vibrate.

conquest who is pleasantly surprised when 'sir' becomes 'darling', and 'sweetheart', and 'honey', and 'love'. such gentle words... they make this heartless destroyer melt. he who has never known love has come to love, deeply. he would slaughter nations, turn planets into barren wastelands, kill his own people, all for you. you and only you. his little queen, his spoiled little kitten.

conquest who really does begin to spoil you, so grateful for you just being here with him. eating out your yummy pussy happily when you praise his strength, playing with your precious clit absentmindedly when you sit with him and tell him about your favourite things, making love to you for hours after you make him the meals he likes (coincidentally his favourite foods are everything you make for him), showering you with physical affection, attention, praise and gifts from far and wide.

'my little woman... my beautiful woman... how i love you.'

conquest who knows when he holds you tight to his body each and every night, cradling your naked form and pressing his cum back inside you with a thick lazy finger as you whine sleepily and doze into dreamland, that you no longer dream of escape. of your home planet, of your friends and family. no, you only dream of him. you are his greatest conquest. well... apart from one.

conquest who lets out a possessive, primal growl as he splays his rough hand over your abdomen, covering it entirely, feeling that bump that's just beginning to protrude beneath your soft tummy. his son is inside your womb. you have been conquered forever by his seed: your body will be glorious, your breasts will fill with sweet nourishing milk that both he and his young will sup from, your beautiful curves shall multiply, and you'll pad about the house with his babies on your hip for the rest of your life. his kitten. his little woman. forever. and he can finally sleep with a smile.

eeeeeeeee i'm so normal i'm so normal i'm so normal....................pls conquest nation i know you're out there, come to me and request more gross old alien man waaaaaaaah :33

[slutoru1207]

Do you think you could do Conquest X readers? Or even Thragg too?

Conquest lowkey scares me but im so down! im donw to make a Conquest x reader becoming friends

would that be okay?

[sobbingscripter]

Saying "I've got a piss kink" sounds a lot cooler than "I've got a pee kink."

But I like saying, "I like pee" because it's very vague. Do I drink it, do I play in it, do I squirt it at people, do people squirt it at me.

Speaking of pee, I did a Conquest drabble on my other account: @ernest-rimmingway

[vintagegirl01]

Vying for the Sea 🌊 (Pt.3)

Duke Leto Atreides x female Velaryon reader

Summary: You and your newly wedded husband consummate your marriage.

A/N: Thank you to all those who took the time to respond to my poll. Greatly appreciate it. Keep in mind, this is my first time writing smut as part of a fic’s plot. Other than that, please enjoy the story and feel free to reach out with feedback if you have any.

Links to Part 1 & 2 Below:

Leto carried you into your bedroom, his eyes filled with a mix of love, protectiveness, and desire. He laid you down gently on the bed, his tall frame towering over you in the soft lighting.

Taking a moment to savour the moment, Leto leaned down to capture your lips in a deep and passionate kiss, his hands gently caressing your body through the fabric of your wedding dress.

You smile. “You like the dress, husband?”

Leto gives a small laugh, his eyes roaming over you, taking in the sight of you lying there in your wedding dress. The dress hugs your curves beautifully, the soft, silvery fabric almost glowing in the dim light. He runs a hand over the material, feeling its softness under his fingertips.

“I love it,” he replies, his voice low and filled with admiration. “But I think I’m going to love taking it off even more.”

You blush, looking up at him as he gently takes your tiara off your head before placing it somewhere beside you two. “Remember what I told you before…”

Leto looks down at you, a half-smile on his lips, his gaze heated and intense. He gently runs his fingers through your hair, the feeling of it sliding through his fingers like silk.

“Oh, how could I forget,” he replies, his voice soft but filled with a hint of huskiness. “And you can rest assured…that I shall be taking my time.”

“I’m just worried… about not being able to do it right the first time…”, you sit up before looking down in embarrassment.

Leto notices your look of embarrassment and sits down beside you, his hand gently reaching out to take yours. His touch is warm and comforting as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his tone reassuring and soft.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soothing, “There is nothing to worry about, my love. I do not expect perfection. This is new for both of us. We shall take it slow, okay?”

You nod, knowing that you could trust Leto to be the man who would take great care of you being deflowered. You just thank your lucky stars that this is not a bedding ceremony where people have to watch the both of you.

Leto smiles, seeing the relief on your face. He brings your hand to his lips, giving it a light kiss, his eyes full of affection and understanding.

“No one will be watching us,” he reassures you, “It is just you and me. It is our night, to enjoy as we please. And I intend to make it a memorable one.“

As you make a move to remove your cloak and dress, Leto gently stops you, his eyes filled with heat and desire. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear, his voice a low, rough whisper:

“No…let me. I want to take my time…unwrap you slowly…”

You agree instantly as if you were hypnotized before letting your husband take the lead.

Leto’s hands move slowly and gently, his touch almost reverent as he sets to the task of undressing you. Starting with your cloak, he unbuttons the fastenings one by one, his fingers moving with a slow, deliberate finesse. The cloak falls to the floor in a pool of fabric, followed by your gown, slowly revealing the expanse of your body to his hungry gaze.

He pauses for a moment, taking in the sight of you in your undergarments, his eyes roaming over your body with an intense hunger. His hands reach out, gently trailing over your skin, feeling its softness under his fingertips, his touch full of an almost tender possessiveness.

“Would you like me to help you, start taking your clothes off as well?”

Leto looks at you, a hint of a smirk on his face. He gives a small chuckle and shakes his head. “No darling. I want you to lay back and let me take care of everything. I want to focus all my attention on you…every single inch of you.”

“What about you?”, you ask.

Leto’s smirk widens, his eyes roaming your body hungrily.

“Me? Oh darling, do not worry about me. I have waited a long time to have you all to myself. And right now, I want to savor every moment, every touch, every sound you make. Let me take my time with you.“

You pout.“But I want you to feel pleasure too.”

Leto’s smirk softens into a smile as he hears your words, and he leans down, gently taking your chin in his hand.

“And I shall, my love. Trust me, I shall. But right now, my pleasure derives solely from pleasuring you. I want to make you feel worshipped, cherished, loved. I want to show you how deep my love runs, and what you mean to me, physically, emotionally, spiritually.”

His smile stays in place as he lowers his head, his lips finding a sensitive spot on your neck. His mouth kisses, nips, and sucks at the skin, his tongue gently soothing the marks he created. One of his hands gently runs down your side, mapping out the length of your body, until it comes to rest on your hip, his grip firm and possessive.

Leto’s lips move slowly down the column of your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses along the soft skin. Each moan that slips from your lips is like music to his ears, and his hand tightens its grip on your hip, his touch both gentle yet possessive. After a moment, he pauses, lifting his head up to look at you, his eyes darkened by desire.

“Gods…the sounds you make…the way you react to my touch…” He murmurs, his voice hoarse with need. He leans in once more, his lips brushing against your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Do you have any idea how badly I have wanted you…how badly I have dreamt of this night?”

You shake your head wordlessly at him.

He gives a low chuckle, the sound dark and throaty, his lips moving once more down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses. He nips lightly at the tender skin, just enough to leave a mark, a mark of his possession.

“Well, I have…so many times. Nights when I would toss and turn, aching for you, desperate for your touch. Wanting to sink my fingers into your silky locks, wanting to hear your moans of pleasure, wanting to feel your body pressed against mine…”

With your permission, he works towards removing your undergarments.

When you are finally left bare before your husband’s eyes, your hands move to cover your breasts.

Leto gently prises your hands away from your chest with a soft shake of his head, a smile on his face.

“No, darling…there is no need to be embarrassed. I want to see every inch of you…do not hide from me. You are beautiful.”

You remove your hands from your breasts, hoping that your body is pretty enough for the older man.

Leto’s breath hitches slightly as your hands move away, his eyes roaming over your body, taking it in with an almost reverent gaze. The look in his eyes tells you all you need to know. He finds you beautiful, he wants you, he is filled with a hungry desire for you, and you alone.

“Gods…” He murmurs, his voice thick with lust and reverence, “You are perfect.”

You blush profusely, caressing Leto’s cheek. “You are too, husband.”

Leto leans in, his body pressing closer to yours, the heat and the weight of him almost overwhelming. He turns his face into your hand, nuzzling his cheek against your palm, his eyes closed for a moment as he relishes your touch. He then gently takes your hand, placing a kiss to the inside of your wrist, his tongue gently tracing across the sensitive skin there.

“And you are all mine.”

Your hand that rested on his cheek before having it travel to the buttons of his shirt.

A small, amused smile quirks at the corner of Leto’s lips as you begin to undo the buttons of his shirt, his eyes filled with a mixture of heat and indulgence.

“Eager to undress me, darling?” he teases, his voice filled with a hint of huskiness.

The redness from your cheeks never disappears and you look at your husband. As if to ask if you can undo his shirt.

Leto chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the way the blush stays on your cheeks, his gaze soft and affectionate as he looks down at you. He nods, giving you silent permission to undo his shirt. “Go ahead, my love. I’m all yours to undress.“

Slowly, you start to unbutton your husband’s shirt until you facing his bare chest.

As he shimmies out of the shirt and throws it to the side, your eyes are taking in his form. While he is toned, you notice his chest is littered with old and new scars combined from combat.

Leto sheds his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. His chest bears the marks of countless battles, scars both old and new adorning the muscular expanse of his chest.

He watches as your eyes trace over his scars, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze, as if he was waiting for your reaction, waiting for your judgment.

Your fingers gently touch his scars. “Do they hurt?”

A soft gasp falls from Leto’s lips as your fingers touch his scars, his muscles tensing for a moment under your gentle touch. He shakes his head, his eyes darkening slightly as he looks down at you.“No, not any more. Just…unpleasant reminders of the past.“

“These only prove to me that my husband is brave and is stronger than what or who tried to kill him.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of Leto’s lips at your words, and he reaches out, his hand cupping your face gently. “You are too good for me, you know that?“

He leans in, bringing his lips close to yours, his breath hot against your skin.

“And yet…you are mine. All mine. And I’m going to show you just how much I love and appreciate you…”

His lips find yours, crashing down in a passionate kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. The kiss is deep, intense, and full of a desperate need and desire. It is possessive and hungry, as if trying to devour you. He moans against your lips, his hands gripping your hips, holding you tightly against him, his body pressed close to yours.

His mouth breaks away from yours, both of you gasping for air, your lips both swollen and pink. Leto’s hands roam over your body, his touch almost fervent, his eyes filled with an almost primal need.

“I want you…I need you…” He breathes, his voice thick with lust, his hands gripping your hips so tightly, you’re sure there will be marks later.

“Oh, Leto! You already have me”, you proclaimed affectionately.

Leto groans, his eyes darkening even further at your words, he gazes down at you, his jaw clenching, his hands gripping your hips possessively.

“I know…gods I know…but I need more. I need all of you…completely, utterly mine. I need to mark you, claim you, make you mine in every possible way.“

“Go ahead. Take me…”, you say breathlessly to him.

Leto’s eyes flare with a dark, feral heat at your words, and he kisses you once more, his mouth devouring yours, his tongue licking and tasting every inch of your mouth, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip with a soft bite. His hands move from your hips, roaming over your body, as if trying to memorize every contour, every curve.

“You are sure, darling?” He breathes against your lips.

You nod, your hands begin to move towards his trousers in an attempt to remove them.

Leto's breath catches in his throat as he feels your hands move to his trousers, his eyes never leaving yours, his breaths ragged and uneven. He nods slightly, giving you permission for you to continue. His body is tense with anticipation, his muscles hard and taut as your hands work to undo the lacing of his trousers.

With the trousers undone, you can see how hard Leto already is underneath the fabric. His desire for you evident. Leto's eyes are almost impossibly dark, filled with an almost feral hunger, as he watches your hands move to the fabric, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as he waits for you to remove the remaining item of clothing.

Removing the last piece of clothing, you are shocked at the state of Leto’s member. “Are… are all of them normally that big?”

Leto lets out a rough laugh, his hands holding your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he speaks, his voice filled with a dark, possessive edge. “No…I hae been told I’m above average.“

His thumbs gently caress the skin above your hip bones, his hands warm and almost possessive as they hold you still, his eyes never leaving yours.“Scared, my love?“

You shake your head. “Not of you. Never of you Leto. I just… what if does not fit in my…”, you motion down towards your womanhood.

Leto’s eyes darken at your words, you can almost see him fighting with the primal, carnal part of himself, the part that just wants to take you, to ravish you completely. He takes a deep breath, trying to keep control, his fingers gently massaging the skin of your sides, in an effort to soothe your nerves.

“We shall go slow, darling.” He murmurs, his voice barely a growl, still thick with lust, “Just trust me.”

You nod, knowing that you can trust Leto with ensuring that you are taken care of. Not only tonight but for the rest of your lives together.

With a low growl, Leto’s body is hovering over you. He holds himself up with his arms, looking down at you. He gazes down at you for a moment, his eyes almost black with desire, his breath coming in short, rough gasps.

He gently spreads your legs, moving to settle between them, his eyes never leaving yours as he lowers his body, his chest coming to brush against yours, the skin of his chest hot against your own.

His lips find your neck once more, and he begins to kiss and nip at the skin there, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your throat, his hands holding your wrists gently but firmly next to your head, keeping you pinned beneath him. His body is pressed against yours, the weight of him almost overwhelming, his breaths hot and ragged against your skin. “Are you ready, darling?“

He murmurs, his mouth against your shoulder, his lips moving against your skin as he speaks.

You look into your husband’s eyes nodding. Though Leto doesn’t want that. He wants your words.

Leto leans in, his mouth close to your ear, his breath hot against your neck as he speaks.

“No, I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you say I can take you, that you want me to take you.”

His hands grip your wrists a little tighter, his body pressing even closer to yours, his body hard and needy, his desire for you almost palpable in the air.

“I do, Leto. Please…”

A low, guttural growl rumbles in Leto’s throat as you speak, the sound a mixture of lust and possession, his body almost trembling with the need to take you.

“Gods, you are going to be the death of me.“He mutters, his voice a rough whisper against your neck. “Just…tell me if it hurts. I never want to hurt you.”

Once again, you nod in agreement. Anything to make the pleasure you feel continue.

As he puts his manhood into you, he looks to you to see how you are doing. So far, you were doing okay despite the uncomfort.

Leto continues to watch your face, his eyes searching your features for any sign of pain or discomfort. He moves slowly, gently, his body almost trembling with the effort of holding himself back, wanting to take you but also not wanting to hurt you, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps in an effort to control himself. He kisses your forehead, his voice almost a whisper.

“Please, continue”, you say as you begin to move in sync with Leto’s thrusts.

Leto lets out a low, guttural moan as your words reach his ears, his head lowering to bury his face in your shoulder, his body still trembling with the effort of restraining his own need. “Gods, darling, the things you do to me…“

His voice is a rough, breathless whisper against your skin, his arms wrapping around you, holding you against him, his eyes closed for a moment, as he tries to steady himself against the overwhelming feeling of you.

“Leto… Leto…. Leto…”, you moan repeatedly as your hands make way to his back.

The feeling of your nails on his skin, the sound of his name on your lips, the way you say it, it’s almost more than he can take. He lifts his head, gazing down at you, the look in his eyes almost feral, a maelstrom of lust and desire.

“Love…say it again.” He gasps, his voice rough, filled with a need for confirmation.

“Leto…I’m close…”, you moan out.

Leto’s eyes widen slightly at your words, a low, guttural moan rumbling in his throat.“So am I…”

He gasps, his pace quickening, moving a hand to hold your hip, a desperate need to keep you close, his breaths becoming more ragged with each movement.“Together, love…I want to…I need to…”

With a final thrust, you feel Leto’s seed in your womb as the world around you two seems to disappear. It is as if every other moment up to now, every second spent together, every touch, every glance, has led to this moment, and it is almost more than either of them can handle.

Leto’s body trembles against yours, his breaths ragged and uneven as he holds you close, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his arms wrapped around you, as if afraid to let you go. He gently brushes his lips against your skin, his breath hot and ragged in your ear, his voice low and rough as he speaks. “Gods…I…you…“

He lets out a long, shaky breath, his eyes closing for a moment as he tries to regain his composure, the feeling of you against him almost overwhelming, he can barely find the words to speak. Meanwhile, you have your right hand gently caressing his dark curls.

At the feel of your fingers gently running through his curls, Leto lets out a soft, almost involuntary sound, a low, almost purring noise, as he lays his head near your breasts. He presses his face against them, his arms, still wrapped around you, holding you close, almost as if he does not ever want to let you go. He lets out a shaky, uneven sigh, the feeling of your hands in his hair almost soothing to him, after the intensity of what just occurred.

He lifts his head, gazing down at you, his expression filled with a mixture of contentment, and a hint of awe, almost as if he can’t believe that he gets to have you, to feel your touch, to see you lying there with him. His eyes roam over your face, taking every detail in, as if trying to commit this moment to memory, his voice quiet but filled with an almost reverent tone.

“You are so beautiful, darling.” He murmurs, letting his eyes travel over your face and form, almost admiringly.

“And you are very handsome, my sweet duke”, you return the same admiration he gave you.

Leto gently brushes his fingers over your flushed skin, his touch almost tender as he explains his desire for you to remain like this, wanting to ensure that his seed takes hold and you may possibly conceive. He studies your face for a moment, his own expression a mix of affection and slight possessiveness, as if wanting to lock you down, to tie you to him in this way, to give him a legacy, an heir.

“Do you mind?” He murmurs, his hands brushing over your hips and thighs gently.

“I want to carry as many children as the gods will let us have. As many as you will plow into me…”, your voice laced with affection.

Leto lets out a low, almost primal growl in response to your words, his eyes darkening, filled with desire, possessiveness, and a touch of something else...something that can only really be described as primal desire, as if he wants to claim you, here and now, forever.

“Careful, darling...that kind of talk almost makes me want to get started on the next one immediately.” He murmurs, a slight hint of playfulness in his voice as his hands wander over your skin.

“The next one? We do not even know if there is one that will be in my belly after this night”, you giggle out.

Leto lets out a soft huff of laughter at your laughter, a playful smirk on his face as he gently caresses your skin, his touch remaining tender, almost caressing as he looks you up and down, taking in your form, a twinkle of mischief in his gaze.

“No, darling, we do not…which is why I might just have to spend many more nights with you to ensure it takes. Not that I would mind at all.“

He grins, his hands moving to playfully wander over your body.

“And not that I have any objections to that,” you wink playfully at him.

A low, rough chuckle escapes Leto's chest at your playful wink, his heart almost skipping a beat at the sight. He gently moves his hand to brush a strand of hair back from your forehead, his touch gentle as he gazes down at you, a smile on his face. “Good...because I had some other activities in mind for later...if you are willing, of course.”

He adds, his voice low, almost a whisper, his eyes darkened with desire.

You answer his question with a sweet kiss to his forehead.

Leto lets out a low, contented sigh as your lips find his forehead, and he closes his eyes for a moment, reveling in the feeling of your kisses. A small, but genuine smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, his eyes remaining closed even as he speaks again, his voice just a little more tender than usual. “Gods, I could get used to this.”

His arms wrap around you tighter, holding you against him, his body almost seeming to envelope you, cradling you in his warmth and strength.

“So could I, my sweet husband. So can I.”

Link for Part 4 below:

[xsister-serpent]

Conquest x Kryptonian F!Reader dropping in a few hours, stand by.

[ratkinger]

Celeste | AO3 | MDNI

Earth has no protectors left. Conquest will finish what Nolan started. Now all he needs is a new pet.

Conquest/OC | F/M relationship | 1.5k word count

TWs and additional tags: Rape/Non-con, Piss Play, Waterboarding, Rough Sex, Forced Pregnancy, Forced Oral, Breeding, Physical Abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Orgasm Denial, Sadism, BDSM Relationship, POV Third Person, Present Tense, Canon Divergent, Watersports, No use of y/n, Anal, Verbal Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Face-Sitting, Face-Fucking, Slapping, Degradation, Spit, Stockholm Syndrome, Pet Names, freaky conquesting shiii

Part I

At the edge of a toppled city skyline, where fires blister on the horizon of harsh blue sky, Conquest whirs like a bullet through a human monument, piercing it clean through. The once coruscate high-rise fails and unceremoniously it slides to the ground, reduced to a thick plume of grey ash as metal groans under the weight of itself. At his aerial vantage he watches, and satisfied with his efforts to undo a symbol of human triumph, turns his attention to the bereft roads of the ruinous metropolis. Through the cratered and barren streets, black and white papers dated two weeks past swirl on the tail of silent wind. It’s life he’s looking for, any sign of it will do, as Conquest has no better way to bide his time than by terrorizing the locals. It’s also true he’s been granted discretion to procreate with a human; his secondary directive to amend the mistakes of the ‘Great’ Nolan. Once Conquest sires a suitable Viltrumite, the acquisition of this little dirtball planet may begin. Now it’s only a matter of who…

A mongrel dog betrays the subversive efforts of its master, and Conquest follows it down a flight of concrete stairs from an abandoned city boulevard. Street names are spelled out on the dangling overhead signs, and he pieces together that this liminal tunnel system are vestiges of some transportational hub. Humans truly are rodents, he remarks. If this is their idea of ingenuity, then it’s no wonder they’ve taken to such a subterranean warren as a place of refuge. He’ll have to treat the infestation promptly.

When the cur’s lax pace turns to enthusiastic gamboling, Conquest knows he’s nearing the nest. Fluorescent filaments crackle and flicker as he approaches, his lofty step intentionally rattling the darkened chute. He wants them to hear — to know he’s homing in on them. He wants to taste their dread on the stagnant air. Who knows, he muses, it might even give any warrior among them warning enough to prepare for his oncoming arrival, however fruitless those efforts will inevitably be.

They enter a clearing full of trappings whose purpose he doesn’t know. Blood-stained beds with clear plastic bags hanging on metal rods line the space, and Conquest ascertains this is a makeshift triage of sorts. He groans in frustration, disappointment immediate. These humans are likely without a defense of any sort and will hardly do much to warm his blood-starved fists. It’s a pity; he truly adores the look in their eyes when they think they’ve got a fighting chance; even more so loves when their beady eyes go wide when he cuts them down. He sighs and decides their pathetic cries for mercy will suffice him for now as their panicked breaths hitch on his well-trained ear. Just like that they’ve given away their burrows.

For a moment there is empty silence, and in the next, the skull of a human male forms a ball in his tight-fisted grip before exploding with a resounding pop. The pissant’s eyes haven’t even a second to reach him before his cerebrum rains against the tile in thick red globules. By the time the dust settles from the broken wall he’s crashed through, the rest of them erupt into a mellifluous procession of screams. Conquest inhales, like breathing in mountainous fresh air, and smiles. It’s beautiful, he marvels, and never gets old. It’s too bad that the rest of his compatriots need their population somewhat intact. They make for excellent sport.

Blood baptizes him anew — thin rivulets crowning his heavy brow — and he turns, ready to collect on the rest of the weeds. But he’s surprised when a woman among them rises, rancor pulling her grime covered face stern. Her shaky step betrays the brave front she’s so desperately trying to convey, and Conquest almost considers her struggle an admirable one, if only she weren’t so hilariously out matched. He’s certain it’s nothing more than a lapse of adrenaline and levitates a few feet off the ground to test her mettle. Her gaze, unwavering, follows. Interesting.

“Hmph, ready to die on your feet, little maggot? Good. I’ve grown so tired of these weaklings pissing themselves where they lie. Prepare yourself.” He tilts his head and waits for the groveling to begin.

She says nothing, but her dark eyes glimmer in the dim light of the tunnel and the defiant bitterness she oozes reminds him of someone: the son of Nolan. Her expression takes him back to their danse macabre, and he relives it for a moment. When she spits at the ground below his hanging feet, adoration overcomes him in an unexpected flush of awe. Finally, he’s found it.

“So I see you’ve some backbone. Excellent. I was beginning to worry that all you humans were the same. I’ll give you a choice then: die here along with the rest of your friends, or, come with me, and I’ll spare them of their lives.” It’s quite the conundrum, he knows, one that causes those pretty eyes of hers to go wide. He hopes she’ll agree with the latter.

As they span the battle-ravaged continent, she remains resolute in maintaining her sulky reticence despite the fear perfuming her sweat. He can also feel her heart quailing in her chest as he holds her against his side, and Conquest wonders when that dogged façade will finally crack. He’s dismayed to worry it won’t take much; it never does. And yet, there’s a subdued quality to the girl that ignites some quiet confidence she’ll surprise him.

Thousands of golden threads stitched into rolling countryside ebb and flow in turn with temperate wind breathing life into the flaxen expanse. Moored amid the respirating sea of pale yellow, a cabin sits center of the tranquil plain, like a lonely sandbar being buffeted by gentle surf. It’s there that Conquest decides to land, and it’s there he decides he’ll keep her.

She offers him no name when he asks for one, not a decibel of sound. Only that cool iron ire hewn into her entrancing brown eyes staring him down through thick vines of black hair. They stand in the wood-stove kitchen, gilded light filtering past florid curtains in slanted rods, and their shadows superimpose the shapes of cage bars onto her comely sienna face. She stands like a wilting flower before him, no taller than his lowest rib, and yet, despite her precarious position, mad-dogs him like a mutt weary of its handler. She’s right to fear him, naturally, but that look she gives him… it’s disarming, and a shudder of arousal rolls over him. She wants him to provoke her, he tells himself, like she’s begging for an excuse to bite. And he hopes she does, hard.

As a pass to shift the heavy air between them, Conquest rests into the stone counter and starts, “you look hungry, and we can’t have that,” he tuts. “I need you ready — strong for the… bonding, ahead of us. Go on,” he nods his chin to her, “why don’t you freshen up, settle into your new home, hm? You’re safe here.” Liar, he playfully chides. She sees right through him, of course, and doesn’t respond.

“You don’t want to test my patience, girl. I feel I’ve already been exceptionally gracious in sparing the lives of your friends today. You would be to wise to heed this admonition; you won’t get another.” His eyes narrow down at her.

Finally, her petal lips part into a single word.

“Why?”

Her voice is as cool and austere as a brisk gust of wind. It’s elegant like polished sterling, yet astringent with the way it causes his heart to reel. Hoo boy, Conquest thinks, he’s going to sincerely enjoy extracting the most odious of howls from this new toy.

“So it does speak! Very good, I suppose you’ve earned your answer then,” he stands to move into the quaint living room of the cabin and stares out the window. A contented sigh falls with his chest as he surveys the vista of undulating wheat. “I can see why Nolan took such a liking to this world; it’s rustic, unrefined — more hospitable than the other civilizations I’ve flattened. And you humans look so much like us, it’s uncanny really.” When he turns to face her, she’s still standing rough and rigid; instincts likely screaming at her to get away. He rolls his eyes.

“Oh please. Relax,” he gestures to veridian-plaid couch and instructs her to sit. Heavy silence builds as she sidles past him, and for a moment he can feel her body heat. She eases into the plush cushion, her shoulders are tense, and she doesn’t fully recline, but he doesn’t push further before telling her the good news.

“Congratulations, you’ve been selected to bear a Viltrumite child! You and I are about to get to know each other very well. So, if you would, your name please. I prefer to know who I’m about to fuck.”

Ah, there it is — that animal fear he so adores.