#leman russ x gn!reader

[lemon-russ]

Im so sorry if this comes off as demanding requesting or something but ive got Leman on the brain and it's AGH

i feel like that man would be almost suffocatingly warm. Like 'coming inside from being out in the snow and he's literally steaming' kind of warm

Man's would curl up around you like a dog if you shiver even a LITTLE around him. "Oh there's a meeting? Professionalism be damned my partner's cold and I'm putting them on my lap, deal with it"

You're fine!! Super cute Idea thank you!

Short Leman Russ x Gn!Reader :))

Leman stood over the table of maps, holo projections and battle plans as his brother Guilliman walked him through strategies.

“I feel like if we have you come in from this front, we can have my men come in here…” Guilliman droned on as he demonstrated on the maps.

A few Ultramarines mixed with Space Wolves around the room, looking stiff as always to Leman.

The sound of the door opening drew his attention away from the maps, and he turned to see you coming in, snow flakes still sticking to the fluffier parts of your hair and melting on your face into little droplets.

You kicked snow off your boots, and reluctantly started to unwrap your snow-wet scarf, cheeks pink and nose red. You looked up at Leman with a small smile, shivering slightly.

“The snow really is picking up out there-” you started to say, but were interrupted by Leman making a displeased sound and crossing the room to you in a couple long strides.

Guilliman paused and watched, a frown of annoyance growing as Leman picked you up under the arms. You squeaked, but were quickly tucked up to his chest. He swiftly pulled off the rest of your damp outer layers, and re-wrapped his furs so you were wrapped in them, sandwiched between the pelts and his warm, dry tunic.

“Is the interruption necessary, brother?” Guilliman asked tiredly.

Leman huffed, cradling you in one arm under his furs, only your eyes and nose peaking out, and bringing you with him back to the war table.

“Baselines get sick when they're cold.” he said dismissively.

Guilliman sighed at his unprofessionalism, but Leman simply wrapped his other arm around you to warm you faster.

[lemon-russ]

primarchs trying to accommodate for human frailty and getting it wrong. Leman russ thinks you will die of cold when it’s one degree outside so drops a bunch of blankets on you. Sanguinius fussing over a scratch. The lion thinks you’re dying because you’re on your period

yesssss good thank you, I wrote Lion because I haven't done him much and I think him being any sort of worried is funny.

Lion El'Jonson x Gn!Reader

“Lion, I'm fine-” you repeat, being carried unusually gingerly in his arms towards the Medicae.

He grumbles, scowling down at you with a furrowed brow. “You can't know anything of the sort. Your brain is probably irreparably damaged, and now you are even less intelligent than before.” He gruffed.

You'd made the apparently grievous mistake of tripping and bumping your head off a table. You have a small bruise on your forehead, and felt fine. It was barely a bump.

But Lion watched it happen with the same expression you imagine he'd have if he watched you be torn asunder by demons in front of him. It was actually incredibly disconcerting to witness, as you've never otherwise seen him emote more than annoyance, or at his happiest, neutrality. (Including in the bedroom. A nonplussed look and a smack on the ass was all you received as a “good job” before he'd leave without a word.)

He had moved faster than your baseline eyes could track to scoop you off the floor, and rushed off toward the medicae to “get brain scans” and “stop the bleeding before it was too late”, he'd informed you between insults to your ability to walk across a flat floor and lack of self preservation.

You sigh and gently poke at the bruise. It wasn't even a bump, it barely hurt. Lion growled a deep rumble from his chest, the noise rattling through your body pressed against him, and quickly tugged your hand to your side.

“Stop prodding it. You're probably poking yourself right in the brain. It's like you want to become more helpless and weak.” He snapped, the arm carrying you squeezing you slightly closer to his chest.

He slams a hand against the door control for the medicae, and strides right passed the shocked and confused personnel, walking you back to an empty bed and placing you on your back with a gentleness you've never seen from him, as if he's afraid you'll shatter if he touches you wrong.

He whirls on the baffled medics. “Well? Can't you see they're grievously injured?” He snaps, voice carrying the full force of his authoritative tone. The medics all jump, rushing to examine you, then exchanged confused looks between themselves and your body as they examine you.

“I- um- my Lord, there doesn't seem to be anything….?” One nervously says, looking you over.

He grumbles a noise, pointing at your barely formed bruise. “Useless! Is this the best my legion offers for its baselines? Obviously I'm talking of the gaping head wound!” He snarls.

The medics all share a long, drawn pause, gazes slowly following his gesture to your forehead. They all seem to have it click at once, and scurry to work.

“Apologies my Lord-” the head medic stammers, looking a bit confused still but clearly valuing his head being attached to his shoulders. “We didn't mean to miss such a- a serious injury…” he says, ordering the surrounding medics to prepare various brain scans.

You sigh, rolling your eyes and slumping back against the pillows. Lion just huffs with annoyance. “See to it.” He growls, plopping himself on chair next to your bed, making it groan under his weight. “I'm going to be watching every step so you can not fail further.” He grumbles. Giving you a sideways glance, then looking pointedly away from you, he slowly places a large, warm hand on your arm. You raise a brow, but say nothing, having to hold back a smirk less he sulk off in embarrassment.

He pouts, still glaring at the wall. “… be comforted.” He commands, tone softer than you'd ever heard. You can't hold back the chuckle that escapes, making him glare at you sharply, still pouting. “Ah. Delirium. This is where it starts.” He says sadly, patting your arm. “I shall… notice your absence…” he mumbles gravely. He only shakes his head sadly when that only makes you laugh harder.