WARNING ➤ Pornographic content mdni! The links all have afab/feminine bodies except maskless mark, do not open in public.
Sinister Mark
Fucking you into the sofa
He loves choking you
bought this skirt just for this
Can’t run away anymore
Main! Mark Grayson
Literally like rabbits (LOADS)
Sock on the door
Virgin! Best friend!Mark who wanted to try something with you
He WANTS you carrying his kid
Full mask Mark
Breeding you full with his babies
Stroking him
Short cunnilingus vid
Got him all tied up
Mohawk Mark
Do y’all see that bulge?? Definitely the way he’d fuck you
How he’d eat his princess out
Normal au!Mohawk mark after taking a drive in his car with you. Couldn’t wait till you got home huh?
His own fleshlight
Viltrumite mark
The eye contacttt
After a long day of viltrum work
Morning sexxx!!
His maid looked hotter today, especially in that skimpy dress you wore.
Maskless mark(MLM)
Riding him in your dorm
You two both got horny while hanging out
Bottom! Mark
Seeing stars
Omni-Mark
loves tasting you
You were a brat in this universe too he had to handle it!
He loves the feeling of your gushy walls clenching around his fingers
You were so desperate to cum :(
Rex Sloan
You play way too much video games
Devouring your pussy
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ NOTE ➤ sorry guys I released this sooo late! The next part of the invincible p!links are going to be revolved around threesomes! If you guys want other p!links with different media I’ll be happy to do it. I want to do a jujutsu kaisen list but I want to see what y’all want first.
General Regent Thragg with his mean asl wife + being a daddy thoughts (like actual dad).
Thragg has a superiority complex embedded so deep within him it's unreal. He takes the Viltrumite way of life and doubles it in everything he does. Nothing in the universe can ever outclass the strength and power that is a Viltrumite.
To bring that legacy back to its former glory he has to breed. Sure. Yeah...he has thousands of children with you know the entire female Thraxan population but they're just cannon fodder in his eyes. Not real blood. Bastards he had to bring into the world and would put out of their misery if given the chance.
The twins probably get a smidge more out of him but that's because he finds them interesting not out of any actual paternal instinct. No he needs something stronger. The strongest the world can offer and...he doesn't get that.
No. This is his punishment for causing such suffering to millions of species. He doesn't get his wish at all. Instead he knows what it's like to be scorned by words alone with mean as hell wife. They met on Earth because duh...she's something awesome and badass. Military agent? Secret service spy? Double blade welding ninja? Doesn't matters she's awesome and doesn't play at all when it comes to Thragg.
Literally saw him intimidating some humans one day and she was like "mhm. This is mine now." *Cue Cassie's voice Mortal Kombat voice.* Get over here. Her verbal assault on him is enough to have him reconsider if the empire really needs to be replaced that badly. She curses him out to hell and back like no you can not take other 'mates' to restore the legacy of your people. I'm all the mate you need. If you ever suggest that again I'll burn you in our bed.
I could see thragg being the type to leave all the child raising to the women outside of fighting and history. The indoctrination must start as early as possible to be effective. So maybe don't tell him that research states children can hear in the womb before there even born. Will have all two of you awake all hours in the night as he talks to your bump about the Great Viltrum Empire. Anyways back to point feeding, crying, diapers things of that nature are all supposed to be on you but nah wifey won't stand for it.
She's fresh in labor, miserable, sweaty with a confused and uncomfortable Thragg who has forced to come to the delivery and worse or all you were screaming which he thinks it's overdramatic. Childbirth can't be that bad. He regrets that though considering in a pregnant rage seven centimeters dilated you throw the iv machine at his head. Yeah. He just shut up for the rest of it and gets you ice chips like a good slave should.
A few hours later there's a crying red faced newborn laying against her chest as thragg stands off to the side staring. It's a girl because I believe in girl dad supremacy for all Viltrumite men. No I don't care. Thragg doesn't care anyways, he sees strength not gender. The Viltrum might be filled with genocidal, slavery pro, violent, eugenics based maniacs but they are not sexist. A woman can be just as evil as a man and they love to see it.
Anyway because she needs a nap atrociously and she offers the baby out to him all aweet ans gentle and severely drugged for everyone else's wellbeing. He tries to turn it down at first his and part of it is because he thinks he's above lesser tasks but the other part of him small and harderened harboring an intensive desire for legacy fears crushing his child. His hands were made to destroy his enemies not hold a ten pound screaming flesh bag. Which by the way side note again Viltrumite babies are big as hell.
Anyway wife wont stand for this and suddenly she's deliriously shouting at him. "What do you mean you don't want to hold the baby?" "Childcare this early on is not the responsibility of-" "COME HOLD THIS DAMN BABY SO I CAN CAN SLEEP!" His face crumples in annoyance and he wants to kill you but he doesn't. He could but he doesn't because the idea of causing you pain makes his chest hurt. Yes thragg its possible to feel grief for something as lowlife as a 'human'.
He just shuffles over and takes the newborn as you roll over on your side still grumbling and cursing him. The funny thing is he definitely likes it..like in no world could you physically overpower this man and yet he stays and lets you talk to him however you want. He loves it. I don't care I don't care what you say. This man is exactly where he wants to be
.Anyway he's extremely awkward holding the baby the nurses try to help but he always end up shifting back to that same awkward position after a certain point they're just giggling at him.
He is not pleased at all but he knows you would probably yell at him if he killed the nurses so he refrains. Barely. He does not have the same care for them as he does for you. Does make the threat clear by crushing the edge of a table though. They get the hint and leave but they're still laughing as he holds his baby girl just staring down at his carbon copy.
This girl took his whole face by the way including his mean mug. She looks so unimpressed and she's not even an hour old. He swears shes glaring at him and nudges you to point it out.
"Wife. The baby is glaring." His words don't get far as you roll over with a deep dramatic huff about to curse him out but youre distracted by a suddenly very smiley baby. "Aww look she took your whole face. You Sonofabitch." Thragg actually thinks he's going insane because milliseconds ago she was frowning. As soon as you look away the glare is back and pointed at him. "Wife-" "LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMNIT!" Before he can call your attention the smile is back.
Its a never ending game of he looks like the bad guy (which he is but not right now at least). He swears shes doing it on purpose but the rest of the world cant see it. Even General Krieg is skeptical like "Sir, she's smiling?". One one hand its annoying but on the other hand it feels their their secret thing. Only he knows how miserable and grumpy his evil little spawn is and he adores her.
It’s obvious that Rex Splode fucks like he’s got something to prove. His whole life has been about being useful to the people around him: whether as a weapon, comic relief, or a warm body, he doesn’t really give a shit. So long as he’s making someone happy, he feels fulfilled.
That’s why your request really throws him for a loop.
“You want me to what?” The question comes out of his mouth in the form of a half-gasp, half-moan.
Likely because his cock is already halfway buried in your cunt.
Your face heats in embarrassment. The words just kind of… slipped out. You look up at his wide eyes above you, loose strands of his hair dangling high over your face framed by your calves on his shoulders. His chest heaves slightly, and you can feel him twitch inside your pussy when you unconsciously clench down.
Too late to take it back, you press on.
“I want you to use me.” You say, trying to sound more confident this time. His fingers trail up and down your thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he processes your request. You can see the cogs turning in his brain.
A little squeak sneaks from you when Rex presses into you further, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. His expression of shock and mild confusion has started to turn into something darker. Something you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, especially not outside of battle.
He leans over you now, effectively folding you in half while supporting his weight on his hands positioned on either side of your skull. He takes care to move any wayward locks of hair out of his way, much more interested in that task than the way you’re contracting around his dick and stifling breathy moans as he bottoms out.
Rex’s voice is nearly casual when he speaks; “Ya know, I really like to think of myself as more of a giver than a taker.” He punctuates the thought with the slow drawing back of his hips, the fullness retreating teasingly slowly.
You squirm under him to get even just the tiniest bit of friction, but know it’s no use. Even with your intense training, Rex is massive above you. No shot you’re moving him in that moment.
His eyes are trained on your face: you can feel it even with your lids shut tight.
“Rex-“ you choke out when he starts to move faster. His balls slap on the place where the meat of your ass meets the muscle of your hamstrings, knees pushed up against your chest. Rex leans down to press his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, biting for a second then quickly soothing the spot with his tongue. His lips trail up the expanse of your neck to land just under your ear, the combination of his weight and the rhythm of his thrusts leaving you breathless.
“What is it?” He coos, and it’s almost mocking. “You can’t tap out now, beautiful. I haven’t even gotten started yet.”
One of the hands that was holding him up finds its way to the base of your throat, sending your pulse skyrocketing. You feel adrenaline pulsing through your veins at the sensation. You’re a superhero, goddamnit. You’re not used to feeling afraid, feeling powerless.
Rex adjusts his grip so that he’s not choking you, per se. Moreso, he’s trying to deliver a message:
‘You wanted me in charge? Fine. I’m fucking in charge.’
His thrusts get harder. Your body jolts with each slam of his dick into you, body burning with embarrassment at how you can even hear how wet you are with every one of his movements. The only thing keeping your skull from hitting the headboard is his grip on your throat holding you in place.
“Open your eyes.” He grunts out. You hadn’t even realized they’d closed.
Rex’s gaze is still locked on you when your lashes flutter back open. “There’s my girl,” he praises.
A jolt of pleasure courses through you at the words, back arching into him. Rex curses, low and rough, then leans his weight back onto his knees.
“Can’t be losing you already; I think learning how to properly use you might take some practice.” He says, grin on his face full of humor and earnestness. All you can do is throw your head back as his thumb meets your clit, rubbing in slow circles that make the spring in your stomach start to wind taught.
You most definitely can!!! Apologies for going MIA chat, real life has been... a trip lately.
You knew early on that for Mark Grayson, guaranteed, extended time off is more than a luxury; it's a needle in a haystack. You didn't expect to get a honeymoon, if you're being totally honest. Figured Cecil would let you and Mark have your one day for a ceremony, and that would be that.
Yet here you are, lying on your stomach on a lounge chair in Fiji, your own private villa behind you and your delectable new husband rubbing sunscreen into your back. His infinitely strong hands feel heavenly on your skin. He’s taking his time with it, but you can’t say you mind.
He’s humming as he carefully massages you, fingers rubbing soothing circles into the muscles of your lower back. He’s sitting on your legs for the best leverage, the strings of your bikini top having mysteriously come untied at some point in the transition. Mark’s voice is husky when it meets your ears, calling your attention.
“This feel good, honey?” He asks, and it sounds so earnest you fall in love with him all over again. For a superhero whose skillset is mostly all about strength and impenetrability, you can hear the vulnerability in his voice.
You moan softly when his hands travel lower, just above the waistband of your bikini. He chuckles, pressing just the littlest bit harder. “Guess that’s a yes, hm?” He teases. You nod into your folded arms, heat gathering in your core.
The whole trip he’s been like this; doting on you, taking care of you, being the sweet man you fell in love with.
His hand falls to grip the meat of your ass for a moment, reminding you of some other things he’s been doing since you arrived five days ago.
“Mark-“ you start to say. He hums an acknowledgment, warm fingers working the flesh and muscle like he’s kneading dough. He toys with the thong string of your bathing suit like it’s some sort of game to make you squirm, and it’s working. Every time he tugs on it enough to pull the fabric tighter against your clit, you stiffen just the tiniest amount. The pressure is barely enough to tease, but he knows there’s few things that get you more wound up than a massage.
“My beautiful wife,” he murmurs, thumb pulling the string out of his way. Your face burns as you mutter back;
“My handsome husband.”
He gently swipes a finger through your wetness, a gravelly sound coming from him that makes you clench. Fuck, he's perfect.
Mark presses a kiss to the tan skin of your lower back, continuing to play with you. "Gotta fuck you good enough you'll forgive me for all the missions I'll have to go on when we get back," he says.
You press back into his hand, just enough that he barely starts to stretch you open.
"Let's just think about how we want to spend the rest of the honeymoon, hm?" Your voice is breathy when you speak, sparks dancing under your flesh where Mark's free hand is resting.
i’m not sure if you talk requests but i may i ask for mark with a sensitive/crybaby lover? If you don’t take requests please do ignore this! I love your writing tho!!
hello anon! I'm not confident in doing requests, so no… requests are not open… but here is something for you 🤍 thank you so much for reading
mark grayson with a sensitive lover
cw. praise, crying, overstimulation, cuddling.
mark learns very quickly that you cry when it feels good.
not in a hurt way. never in a hurt way.
it’s always that pretty, overwhelmed kind of crying, where your lashes clump together and your lips part around soft little sounds you try so hard to keep quiet. you get embarrassed every time, turning your face into the pillow or covering your mouth like you can hide from him, like mark doesn’t know every sound you make by heart.
“baby,” he murmurs, voice low against your ear. “don’t hide from me.”
you whimper, fingers gripping at his shoulders. “i can’t help it.”
“i know.” his mouth brushes your cheek, catching the tear there with a kiss. “that’s why i like it.”
that makes you squeeze your eyes shut, your whole body going warm beneath him.
mark groans softly, dropping his forehead to yours. “there you go,” he whispers. “you’re so sensitive, huh?”
you nod before you can stop yourself, breath hitching when his hand slides down your side, slow and possessive, holding your hip like he’s grounding you. keeping you there with him. keeping you from floating too far into all that feeling.
“talk to me,” he says, kissing under your jaw. “too much?”
you shake your head quickly.
his thumb strokes your hip. “baby” he firmly says, dick pushing impossibly deeper when his hips ground into you.
“no,” you breathe. “not too much.”
“good girl.”
the praise hits you worse than anything else.
your eyes fill again, and mark sees it immediately. of course he does. he always does. his expression softens, even though his breathing is rough, even though his hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed and he looks like he’s barely holding himself together.
“oh, sweetheart,” he says, almost teasing. almost fond. “that’s all it takes?”
you cover your face with both hands, mortified. “mark…”
he laughs quietly, but there’s no cruelty in it. only warmth. only affection. he catches your wrists and pulls your hands away, pinning them gently beside your head.
“no, don’t do that.” his mouth finds yours, slow and deep. “let me see you.”
you melt beneath him, helpless to the way he kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like there isn’t a whole city outside that might need saving, like there isn’t anything more important than making sure you feel loved while he has you like this.
every slow roll of his hips makes your breath break.
every murmured “that’s it” makes your thighs tremble.
and mark, unfairly attentive mark, notices exactly what makes you gasp. exactly when your nails dig into his back. exactly when your body starts getting too tense, too overwhelmed, too close.
“you’re doing so well,” he whispers.
your lip trembles.
“mark, please.”
“i’ve got you.” he kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your mouth. “i’ve got you, baby. you can cry. i don’t mind.”
that breaks you a little.
the tears slip down your cheeks before you can stop them, and mark groans like the sight ruins him. his grip tightens just slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you that he’s there. solid. warm. yours.
“so pretty like this,” he murmurs. “all sweet for me.”
you make a sound that barely resembles his name, clinging to him as the pleasure builds too fast, too hot, too much. your body shakes, and mark slows just enough to keep you with him, his voice soft and steady in your ear.
“breathe for me.”
you try.
“that’s it. good girl.” his lips brush your temple. “you’re okay. i’m right here.”
you come with a sob caught in your throat, your face pressed into his neck, and mark holds you through all of it. he doesn’t stop talking. doesn’t stop kissing you. doesn’t stop telling you how good you are, how pretty you sound, how much he loves feeling you fall apart for him.
after, when you’re limp and warm and trying to hide again, he doesn’t let you get far.
he gathers you into his chest, one hand smoothing over your back while the other cradles the side of your face.
“hey,” he says softly. “look at me.”
you peek up at him, embarrassed and teary.
mark smiles like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.
“you're so pretty, baby.”
you pout. “i cried again.”
“yeah,” he says, brushing his thumb beneath your eye. “you did.”
“that’s embarrassing.”
“no, it’s not.”
“you’re just saying that.”
“i’m really not.” he kisses you softly. “i like knowing you feel safe enough with me.”
your chest aches at that, tender and full.
mark tucks you under his chin, arms wrapping around you carefully, like he could crush mountains but would rather spend the rest of his life being gentle with you.
“besides,” he adds, voice dipping into something teasing, “you’re cute when you cry.”
you smack his chest weakly.
he laughs and catches your hand, kissing your knuckles.
“mean,” you mumble.
“crazy about you,” he corrects.
and because you’re sensitive, because you’re soft, because mark always knows exactly how to make your heart spill over—you cry a little again.
You were great friends with mark, you apparently never knew he was ever invincible despite the obvious signs. You knew he had a little brother, a purple one although.. Mark was a great person and did not like getting in trouble however you did, opposites attract I guess? But of course you were planning a hang out over at his place since his parents were out of town. (Probably in that lil cafe in Berlin.) And ya brought some alcohol. Probably to convince Mark to drink some even though it would be nearly impossible. You finally get there and ring the doorbell a couple of times. No response. Typical of Mark. So you decide to climb through his window.
"Hey dumbass, I'm here-" You pause as you see what he is doing.
Putting those lotion and tissues to work. You watch in silence with a flushed face as he finally notices you.
"Oh Shit!-" He messily tries to hide although it is too late.
"Uhh, It's not what it looks like...?" Like anyone was going to believe that bullshit.
"Um I see.." You quietly say.
In a desperate attempt to control the situation he attempts to switch the conversation to the bottles you are holding, in order to get out of the awkwardness you weakly turn to the bottles.
"It's uh- Alcohol."
"Cool, cool.." He says embarassingly.
"Anyways, why do you even have alcohol?"
"So you can try some idiot." You snap back.
Mark shrinks back; he was always intiminated by you.
"I D-don't drink.."
"Now you do." You lazily toss a bottle at him and he scrambles to catch it.
You open up your bottle and take a long swig. "Go on."
Mark hesitates for a few moments before slowly uncapping it. "Are you sure about this?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Mark visibly gulps before taking a very small sip, wincing at the taste.
"Come on, do a proper one."
"I don't wanna-"
You stand up slightly from your seat and he shrinks back more.
"Do. It."
He obeys and takes a proper swig, his eyes slightly widening at the taste.
"Tastes like shit." He says.
Despite his words he takes another small swig.
Great, you just got your friend addicted to alcohol.
You smirk with satisfaction as you take another longggggg swig.
Mark trys to mimic your action but it only results in him trying to down the whole bottle.
"Woah, calm down there dude-"
You watch him with mild concern as he finishes the whole bottle.
"Got any more...?" He asks nervously.
You toss another bottle at him and he starts trying to down it again.
"Keep that up and you'll die."
Mark lets out a slightly slurred ramble on how he will be fine with you barely understanding any of his words.
You follow it up by taking more swigs.
After about ten minutes mark was on his FIFTH bottle.
You watched with a lot more concern as he tried to down it.
"Dude... That's all I have."
Mark makes a lazy grunt of acknowledgement as he finishes it.
"Jesus christ how are you still breathing..?"
Mark was clearly drunk now and said with slurred speech, "Cuz i'm invincibleeeeeeee!"
Mark tries to stand up but stumbles and trips onto the floor.
"Mean floor...."
"Dude you are not invincible." You laugh at the bewilderment. Your best friend thinks he is a superhero! It is hilarious Afterall.
Mark pouts at your words as he keeps claiming he is.
"Oh yeah? Prove it."
Mark uses his nightstand to slowly pull himself up and opens the window.
"What are you doing?"
He doesn't answer. He slowly pulls himself up onto the ledge, stumbling slightly.
You looked genuinely concerned now.
"What are you doing-"
Without another word he leaned right out into the open air.
"Mark?!"
You immediately ran over to the edge to see he didn't plummet to his death? You look up and see him floating yet clearly struggling to stay up.
"Holy shit you're-
You carefully grab his ankle shaking slightly from the shock and pull him back in.
Mark immediately flops onto the floor.
"I like it when you grabbb meeeee~" he said with words slurred.
You stare at him in bewilderment. "That's what you have to say after jumping out of a window?"
Mark giggles on the floor.
You weakly try to pick him up and throw him back on his bed.
"Ooooo what we bouttta get intoooo?~"
"Man I JUST put you on the fucking bed ya fruity bastard." You snap back.
"What can I say pretty ladyyy?~"
You stare at him with a deadpan expression as he continues trying to flirt. You facepalm when he attempts to get off of the bed. You try to push him back onto it but he won't budge.
"Man get on the damn bed-" You suddenly freeze when his hands grab your shoulders.
"Whyyyy~" He whines pathetically.
"Because you're fruity and drunk."
"That's the best part babyyy~"
You stare at him for a second processing what he just called you. You slowly try to get out of his grip but it's nearly impossible.
"D-dude let go-" You were obviously flustered by his behavior.
You slowly look down and can see his evident arousal.
"Yeah, you're never drinking again."
He says nothing as he pushes you onto his bed.
"What are you doing-"
"Nothinn~"
He was definitely doing something and you already knew what it was. He moves to pin you down.
"W-wait mark!-" You were starting to get aroused yourself as he pushed open your legs with impossible force.
"Not now..." You whisper.
"Then whennnnn?~" He whined teasingly. as he pressed up directly against you.
You shifted slightly at the feeling of his clothed cock against you.
"M-mark.." You gasped as he grinded his hips against you.
He slowly sped up his movement as you occasionally would whimper at certain spots. He was fully enjoying it yet his movements were slightly sloppy since he was drunk. Since he couldn't even properly position himself you did it for him and once you moved he let out a small moan. He continued his movement and it gradually speed up, his sounds getting louder. He then suddenly climbed on top of you, it hit just the right spots drawing a moan from you. He was full on humping you now. All you could really see was his blissed out expression and stars. His movements became desperate as he chased his release.
"Jesus mark alrea-" He cut you off as his hips stuttered hitting right where you wanted it. He held that position for a second before lazily standing up. A wet spot was forming in his pants. He had came. He moved to unbuckle his belt as he was already hard again. You flopped back down with a smug smirk.
"Guess I'm irresistible~"
"Just pretty.~" He responded as he slowly took off his boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. How could he have hidden THAT from you?! Already aroused you reached down for your own skirt and pulled it down. He blushed slightly at the sight of your thighs.
"C-can i?" he asked.
You gave him a nod and he wasted no time. He pulled off your panties and stood back up positioning himself again. You wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him in, gasping at the sensation. His eyes went wide not expecting it to feel like that. He started a pace. You put a hand over your mouth to cover any sound you would make. Mark steadys himself by grabbing onto your hips as you buried your face in the pillow.
All of a sudden, he lifts up your leg to hit deeper drawing a moan from both of you. He speeds up his pace directly starting to hit your cervix making him groan.
There's a knock on the door. But mark is too drunk to even acknowledge it.
Somebody opens the door.
"Hey, have you seen-" They freeze.
It's his little brother Oliver. They just watch in stunned silence.
You shove mark off and he finally notices oliver.
"Heyyyy little broo~" Mark says.
Oliver dosen't respond and stays fully still.
"Ya wanna join-" Mark starts to say but is cut off by you smacking the back of his head.
Could i request different conquest varients from different universes coming to the same one and creating a harem of conquests for male reader.
Maybe some of the conquests lost their readers in their universe, maybe some never had them. And then reader, maybe they didnt have a conquest in that universe, or he was evil and the harem comes to save the reader. I just think little ol human man who like movie dates and cuddling with his pack of conquests that would kill anyone who dares breathing near reader without asking is adorable and hot.
And maybe some nsfw if you want but im more here for overprotective and possessive conquest pack that treats reader with all the cuteness and love in the world
Between work and being sick, this request completely slipped through the cracks, and for that I apologize! This will be a headcanon type layout with some scenes sprinkled in. As for the other part of this ask you sent in, I will be making that a bit of smutty oneshot, separate from this post! I hope that's alright and thank you for your patience!
Some nsfw will be below the second divider!
Harem of Conquests x M!Reader
Your universe does have a Conquest. One who despises you.
He does not like any human, but you specifically? Oh buddy, he hates you.
One day, he finally gets a hold of you. Promising your demise is coming. However, as he grabs you by your shirt, snatching you off of the ground, his body is slammed into.
He releases you and once you look up, you see another Conquest. Beating up your universe's Conquest.
Your ears are ringing from how hard you had hit the ground. You grab your head and sit up, trying to find out who your savior is. When your eyes hit Conquest, you cannot help but rub them and look again. Two Conquests stand before you. One obliterating the other. Your jaw drops open, mouth agape.
You scoot back, your brain unable to wrap around the fact that there are in fact two of the man that wants you dead. You bump into something you can only describe as solid. You turn around, your eyes hitting another Conquest.
The new Conquest pulls you up from your spot and eyes you up and down. He wears a flannel shirt and no prosthetic arm. He asks if you are alright.
After that, they come in droves. Your Conquest does not stand a chance against the multiple that have appeared.
They all focus on you once the one killing you is dead. Their heads snapping towards you like owls.
You are in too much shock to really do anything other than wave at them, the flannel Conquest holding you up.
They do not kill you. They show no signs of wanting you gone... In fact, they all seem to want you.
Now your universe has multiple Conquests, all over you.
Good luck shaking them off, they aren't leaving you until you're dead and gone, which is not happening on their watch.
You learn that some of them had you in their universe and you died. You learn that some of them did not have you and were curious when they were finally able to get to you.
You learn quickly that living with multiple Conquests is not for the faint of heart.
While they are all different in small, odd ways, they are mostly the same. Big, brutish men, who are all obsessed with you.
They do not fight each other over you, but may the universe help any poor soul that does bother you...
At least one is always with you, never wanting to let you go. Most of the time this is fine, until you have to actually work or do something important.
"Conquest," You warn the one with you, your voice low. "I need to get this done for work, I promise you and all of the other yous will be fine for like, 20 minutes!" You huff, typing away at your keyboard. "Go off and do something fun without me-"
This confuses Conquest. "Fun? Without you?" He laughs. You groan and continue to work. His strong hands hit your tense shoulders, and you only tense up further, heat prickling across your cheeks. "There is no such thing! Get your work done and we can have real fun!
You relax into his touch. "Whatever." You grumble, leaning onto your hand and looking over your screen.
While your Conquests are nice, they are still all from Viltrum. You learn quickly that they all act like it.
They are all touch starved, protective, and will kill for you. Over the slightest things.
They all adore you, and even if having new roommates is hard, they all love you dearly and definitely show it.
They love nothing more than during movie nights or rainy days to just pile up around you/on top of you. You barely see the movie and probably cannot breathe properly, but hey, they're hot!!
Nothing bad is happening to you ever, and you cannot help but wonder why they picked you. But they did. And you are grateful.
NSFW Below
These guys are Touch Starved. To the extreme. Every single one of them.
They of course, do not do anything without your permission, but they are all so needy.
Their hands are almost always on you. In some way. Outside, Conquest places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you where you need to go. Inside?? Oh boy, they are all all over you!
You almost always have hands on your shoulders, back, chest, down your pants.
You are almost always covered in hickeys and small bruises from their mouths, teeth, and strong grips.
They would all die happy giving you a blowjob, and you are in luck, because they can all hold their breaths for an ungodly amount of time.
Admittedly though, this can get annoying... quickly.
You groan as Conquest's mouth takes your full length. The Conquest behind you holds you steady for the one on his knees in front of you. Your hands are being held ever so gently by the one behind you, keeping you from fidgeting too much. Several of them look on, palming their pants or praising you. "Being so good for us," some of them growl out. "Come on," another grunts, "let him do something. This is no fun!"
Your hands are released and they go for Conquest's head immediately. Your hips buck, his hands holding your thighs down keeps you from much movement. "Fuck!" You hiss out. Your hips roll, you feel his throat. He does not gag or pull back for air once. As you near your climax your thrusts into his mouth quicken. Conquest pulls back from you. You groan and your hands are restrained again. "Thought you'd cum so soon?" He teases. Another one laughs. You should know by now that it is never quick and easy with any of them.
They are all teases. They will all edge you until you're in tears, begging for them to let you cum.
They LOVE praise. Please praise them always.
One way to get them to let you finish is by praising them. Hit them with 'good boy' and they will cum while you do.
I have soooo many thoughts about the Conquest Harem I could go on forever.... I will be writing a oneshot for them as I stated before. if you have any other questions concerning them/this idea, feel free to ask! I love this so much!
I don't think I have ever written nsfw for a male!reader before, I hope you liked it and I'm figuring things out about myself :)
The tension between you and Mohawk Mark has been building for far too long. What if you can't deny it anymore in this NSFW Choose Your Own Adventure?
🔗READ/PLAY HERE to make your own choices!
[Playthrough by Anonymous]
CW: Somnophilia, Noncon/Dubcon, Emotional Abuse, BAND AU
The stale hotel air-con hums somewhere in the dark room, mixing with the distant sound of late night traffic. The bed dips and groans with a rhythm that drags you from sleep.
Curtains hang half-drawn, not quite enough to block the glow of the streetlights outside. It spills into your hotel room in muted bands, catching on the edges of scattered things: an open case for your electric violin, a cable half-coiled on the floor, a set list filled with notes forgotten on your bedside table.
You feel it then, more clearly now. A heavy weight presses you into the mattress, a warmth mixed with a familiar citrus-heavy cologne.
Hawk.
The memory of yesterday flickers through your mind: him snapping at you during soundcheck, giving you the cold shoulder at the afterparty, yet somehow his dark brown eyes kept finding yours—even while a crowd of eager groupies vied for his attention.
His breath ghosts over your ear, rough and laced with his typical cruel streak. "Wake up, princess. 'Been waiting long enough."
Your body's still heavy with sleep, but you feel it, the slow drag of him against you. His hips roll forward, the thick length of him pressing insistently between the curve of your ass through the fabric of your sleeping shorts.
One of his hands grips your hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "You been a bitch all day. Mouthin' off during soundcheck, rollin' your eyes at every fuckin' thing I said. Think I didn't notice?"
"Hawk."
The name leaves your lips rough with sleep, barely above a whisper. It comes out steadier than you feel.
His hips still against you. For a moment, there's nothing but the hum of the AC and the faint buzz of the streetlight filtering through the curtains. His grip on your hip loosens, just slightly, before his fingers curl back into the flesh like he's making sure you're real.
"Took you long enough." His voice is a low rasp against the shell of your ear, his lips brushing the sensitive cartilage as he speaks. The scrape of his snakebite piercings sends a shiver through you. "Thought I'd have to fuck you awake."
He shifts his weight, the mattress groaning beneath him. His hand slides from your hip up your side, palm dragging over the curve of your waist, fingers catching on the hem of your t-shirt. He doesn't push it up. Just rests there, his palm warm against the bare skin of your stomach.
"You know what you do to me, string gremlin?" The nickname comes out like an accusation, or a confession. Hard to tell the difference with him. "Standin' up there on that stage, playin' your little violin like you're too good for the rest of us. Drivin' me fuckin' crazy."
His hips roll forward again, a slow grind that presses his length against the curve of your ass through the thin cotton. You feel him, hard and hot, the fabric doing nothing to dull the sensation. His breath hitches, just barely, the only crack in his armor.
"So what're you gonna do about it?"
His hand slides from your stomach downward, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. He tugs, just enough to expose the swell of your ass to the cool hotel air. His breath catches when he sees the bare skin, the curve of you.
"'Been thinkin' 'bout this all day, Y/N." He practically spits your name, like it's venom he's been saving. "Bent over your amp like you were askin' for it. Swayin' your hips while you played. Drove me fuckin' insane."
His cock twitches against you. He shifts, positioning himself, the blunt head pressing against your entrance through the fabric, just barely. A preview. A threat.
"You gonna fight me? Gonna tell me no?"
You press back against him.
It's barely a movement, just a roll of your hips that pushes your ass firmer against the hard length of him. But it's enough. It's everything.
A sound gets caught in his throat, half-groan, half-growl, and his hand on your hip tightens, fingers bruising into the soft flesh. His forehead drops to the back of your neck, his breath hot and uneven against your skin.
"Fuck," he breathes, the word cracking at the edges. "Fuck, Y/N."
His composure splinters. The cocky mask slips, just for a second, and underneath it there's something ravenous, something that's been wound too tight for too long. His hips grind forward instinctually, the thick ridge of him pressing harder against your clothed entrance.
"Thought you'd push me off." His voice is rougher now, strained. "Thought you'd give me some bullshit about the band, about Omni's rules, about how we shouldn't—" He stops, jaw clenching against your shoulder. "But you're not, are you? You're pushin' back."
His hand slides from your hip, palm dragging across your stomach, fingers splaying flat just below your navel. He presses down, anchoring you against him as his other hand reaches between your bodies, fumbling with the button of his jeans.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted this." The confession comes out raw, unwilling, like it's been clawed out of him. "How many times I've jerked off in the shower thinkin' about bendin' you over that fuckin' amp."
The button comes undone. The zipper rasps.
You twist your neck, craning to reach him. It's an awkward angle, your cheek half-pressed into the pillow, but you don't care. Your lips catch the corner of his mouth, a clumsy first pass, before you find purchase.
Hawk freezes above you.
For half a heartbeat, nothing. Then a sound tears out of him, a low, fractured groan that vibrates against your mouth. His hand leaves your hip and snakes up, fingers tangling in your dark hair, gripping hard enough to sting as he yanks your head back further, deeper into the kiss.
It's messy. Sloppy. His tongue sweeps across your lower lip, then into your mouth, tasting like stale tobacco and black coffee. He kisses like he's punishing you, like he's trying to devour you whole. His teeth scrape your bottom lip hard enough to ache.
When he breaks away, it's only an inch. His breath is ragged, fanning hot across your face.
"Fuckin' dangerous, Y/N." His voice is wrecked. "Kissin' me like that. You got no idea what you just started."
His hand slides from your hair down your throat, fingers wrapping loosely around the column of your neck. Not squeezing. Just holding. A claim.
His other hand tugs at the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down your thighs, exposing you fully to the cool air. His cock presses against your bare entrance, slick with his own anticipation, the blunt head nudging at your folds.
"Last chance to tell me no, pretty girl."
"Stop talkin' and fuck me already."
The words come out rougher than you expected, thick with sleep and want. Your voice cuts through the dim hotel room like a blade.
Hawk goes still above you. His hand tightens on your throat, then loosens. A beat of silence hangs between you, broken only by the hum of the AC unit.
Then he lets out a breath that's almost a laugh, dark and disbelieving. "There she is."
His hand leaves your neck, sliding down your spine, fingers pressing into the small of your back. He shifts behind you, the bed dipping as he angles himself. The blunt head of his cock drags through your slick folds, teasing, gathering wetness before he lines up with your entrance.
"Been waitin' for you to drop the act." His voice is gravel and smoke. "All those months of you actin' like I'm beneath you. Like you didn't notice me watchin'."
He pushes in.
Just the tip. Just enough to stretch you open, to make you feel the width of him. A low groan rumbles from his chest, vibrating through the air between you.
"Fuck, Y/N." His forehead drops to your shoulder blade. "You're so fuckin' tight."
He waits there, buried an inch deep, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. His hand finds your hip, gripping hard enough to bruise.
Then he pulls back, slow, and drives forward in one smooth, brutal thrust.
You push back against him.
Your hips roll to meet his thrust, ass grinding against his pelvis, taking him deeper. The angle shifts, and the new depth draws a sharp gasp from your throat, muffled by the pillow.
"Fuck—" Hawk's rhythm stutters for half a beat. His hand on your hip spasms, fingers digging in so hard you'll have bruises tomorrow. "Yeah. Yeah, just like that."
He picks up the pace, each thrust harder than the last. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, wet and obscene, layered over the creak of the bed frame and his ragged breathing. His hand slides from your hip to the curve of your ass, gripping, spreading you open for him.
"Look at you." His voice is wrecked, awe and cruelty tangled together. "Takin' it so good. Been hidin' this from me, Y/N?"
He drives deeper, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur. His pace turns punishing, each thrust knocking the air from your lungs, pushing you up the mattress. Your fingers scramble for purchase on the sheets, but there's nothing to hold onto, just the relentless drag of him inside you.
His hand leaves your ass and fists in your hair, yanking your head back, arching your spine until your lower back presses against his stomach. The new angle makes you gasp, makes him sink even deeper.
"Wanted this all fuckin' day," he snarls against your ear, voice ragged. "Standin' next to you on that stage, watchin' your hips sway while you played. Had to hide my hard-on behind my guitar the whole set."
Your hand shoots back, fingers finding the stiff bristles of his mohawk, then curling into the longer strands at the base of his skull. You pull. Hard.
Hawk's hips stutter against you, a strangled groan ripping from his throat as you drag him down, his chest pressing against your back, the weight of him pinning you to the mattress. His lips find your ear, hot and urgent.
"Fuckin' hell, Y/N." His voice is shot, barely holding together. "You're gonna be the death of me."
His hips resume their rhythm, but it's different now. Closer. Deeper. The angle shifts with his body pressed flush against yours, each roll of his pelvis grinding against your ass, hitting spots that make your toes curl. His hand slides from your hair down to your throat again, fingers wrapping loose around the front as he tilts your head back against his shoulder.
"Feel that?" He thrusts harder, punctuating the question. "Feel how deep I am? This pussy was made for me."
His thumb finds your clit, circling rough and uncoordinated, driven by rhythm rather than finesse. His breath is hot and uneven against your neck, his hips slapping against you with increasing desperation.
"Gonna make you cum on my cock, pretty girl." The words are strained, pushed through clenched teeth. "Right fuckin' now."
Wanna make your own choices and see what happens next? READ/PLAY HERE! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
🎮interactive fanfic "SOUNDCHECK 🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ | INVINCIBLE BAND AU" by olibean
