#leman russ/reader

[druidwolf21]

Part 2 of

https://www.tumblr.com/druidwolf21/765041362011914240/first-impressions?source=share

Leman russ

Can you tell he's my favourite?

Same as last time, there are 2 endings to this and there is smut waaaay at the bottom

This one has some bad language so be warned!

Enjoy!!

@jaghatai-khock @beckyninja @lemon-russ @moodymisty @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond

If you wanna be tagged on untagged let me know.

Word meanings

Drengr-warrior

Ulfr-wolf

The Aett- fenrisian word for the fang

You finally tousled your way from the crowd, granting you a flash of freedom as you realised the door was only feet way, you couldn't hold back a toothy grin, practically tasting freedom, before your thoughts were forcefully ripped to reality when a rough hand clasped your own. Blinking in confusing you looked down at the hand, following the arm up to where it attached to a young flushed lad, smiling drunkenly at you.

"my dear sweet lady" he slurred slightly "you would leave without allowing me to introduce myself?"

He stepped closer, still smiling like an idiot as you smelt the bitter tang of spirits on his breath, you scrunched your nose as he brought you hand to his lips, placing wet lips against your skin.

"my name is Aetius, fair lady" he stepped closer and you tensed as he placed a hand on your hip, leaning in to you. "But I'm sure you will remember it well from your chambers"

Fury flashed through you at his words, bristling, you grasped his hand, ripping it from your hip and twisting; You felt muscle snap and pop as you yanked his joint upwards before releasing him to flail past you and, smirking, you watched him stagger upright, cupping his injured wrist before his raised his head and scowled at you.

"you psycho bitch" he hissed through gritted teeth "stuck up little whore, do you know who I am? You should be greatful I..."

He stuttered and faltered as a shadow engulfed you from behind

You however were too enraged to notice, cold fury emanating from you as you stepped towards the cowering lad.

"you jumped up little prick, you're lucky I'm wearing this stupid dress, or i'd kick seven shades of terra out of you" you raised a finger, prodding him in his chest, oblivious to the towering figure stood listening as you spewed all your stress from the evening into your words.

"if you EVER touch a woman like that again and I hear about it, you'd wish one of these Astartes had found you first. Are we clear"

All the blood had fled from the man's face as he looked to you, then over your shoulder, before looking back to you, nodding shakily and tearing off into the faceless mass of bodies.

You took a deep breath, smoothing the snowy folds of your dress and glancing around to make sure you hadn't caused a scene, sighing and relaxing your shoulders when you realised no one had taken much notice. You allowed a smug smile to grace you as you nodded slightly to yourself, feeling pretty pleased with how you put that little arse in his place.

"such sharp fangs for such a little thing"

You spun round, ready to kick of again until you realised who had spoken to you.

Leman Russ, Primark of the space wolves.

You gazed up at him, clothed in dark leather and furs, he was no less intimidating than he was in his armour, muscles taunt under a wolf fur cloak, his yellow hair braided or falling freely about broad shoulders. Your eyes finally trailed up to his face, finding large canines exposed in a wicked grin and glacial eyes reading you like an open book.

"my bite is worse than my bark" you sniped back quickly, holding his gaze. He raised an eye brow and a rumble resounded in his chest as his eyes lit up.

"As it should be, drengr!" He laughed, his thick fenrisian accent sparked a feeling deep in your gut as he grinned at you. You felt warmth spread up your neck and across your cheeks as he looked down at you, you flashed him a mischievous grin, embracing the blush as it creeped across your features and dropped into a mock curtsy.

"I aim to please, my lord" you drawled sarcastically, drawing another barking laugh from the wolf.

"and yet, I spied you so eager to escape, little ulfr"

You rose from your stooped position and eyed the man carefully, he still had a carefree smile creasing his handsome features but his head was cocked and his stare pierced into you, questioning. You found yourself staring for a moment, lost in his eyes before blinking and coughing to hide your embarrassment. His smirk grew bigger as he watched your cheeks redden again as you stuttered slightly for a response.

"Worry not girl, I know exactly what you were doing, come, perhaps we can escape the monotony together. Besides, I would like to hear more of that fire in your belly and I can scarce hear myself in here"

He placed a large hand on your shoulder and shuffled you towards the door, clearing a path with his sheer mass.you sighed loudly as, finally, you reached the door and slipped through, your companion twisting the gilded handle shut and sealing the ruckus of the party behind thick carved wood.

The hall was quiet and empty, lit gently by the low flames of flicking lamps peppering the walls. You walked forward and took a deep breath, stretching your arms above your head as the last of the tension left your body.

Russ watched as you skirted through the undulating mass of nameless faces and multicoloured robes, ducking away from conversation with your eyes dead set on escape. His eye had been drawn by the glint of white and gold amongst the forest of rainbow garments and he grinned slightly, amused at your dedication to avoiding any and all conversation directed at you.

His gaze had hardened and his smile dipped into a small snarl as his gaze drifted to a young group of men, pointing and clapping each other on the back and he moved to intercept when the drunkard detached from his friends to approach you.

However it didn't seem necessary, standing behind you snarling at the inebriated youth, only to be pleasantly and wonderfully surprised when such a pretty little thing like you had lashed out and put the Welp in his place.

Now he was definitely interested.

He had smirked and genuinely laughed as you talked, pleased to find your wit was as pleasant as your face and he had eyed you as you slid through the door, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure as you stretched.

"so, what did you want to know?"

He dragged his eyes away from your silk wrapped figure back to your face, making no attempt to hide where he had been looking, relishing in the fact you had looked away shyly when you noticed.

"Amuse me" he shrugged, squatting to look you straight in the face.

Your voice caught in your throat as the Primark lowered himself to your level and you could smell the scent of fresh grass and pine as you took a deep breath, mingled with the faint spice of mjord. You opened your eyes not realising you had shut then and found that same toothy grin getting bigger.

You rolled your eyes at him with a soft smile and began to tell him about growing up into the household, running around with serfs and the kids of the lower class. He had belly laughed as you told him about beating a Sargent in a game of poker and having to scramble out of the hall to avoid getting caught by his commander, and you had smiled dumbly up at him as his canines glinted in the dim light when he threw his head back in laughter.

"aaah such a wild lass, I understand why the poor lad was so enamored" he snorted, tousling a hand through his hair and bouncing slightly in his squat.

Without thinking you copied him and reached out to run a hand through his mane, tangling through the strands. You felt him stiffen as you trailed your fingers down the length of a braid before dropping back to your side, his head tilted slightly as your hand fell away.

Leman sucked in his breath through clenched teeth as he felt your touch. One minute he had been laughing so hard his ribs had hurt, the next, one of his heart had jumped into his throat as he felt your touch. Worlds apart from the blows he felt on the battle field you were whisper soft in his hair.

When was the last time a touch was so gentle to him?

He lent gently into your touch without meaning to, smelling the floral perfume on your wrist as your hand twisted through his hair and he almost growled when you slipped your fingers from his locks.

"will you tell me about fenris?"

He perked at your voice and rubbed his jaw in thought.

"I can. Or I can show you"

Go with Leman.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as you processed the low rumbling request put before you.

"...what?"

"I want you to come. with me." he held out a large calloused hand towards you.

A million thoughts crashed through your head. Leman Russ, Primark of the space wolves, the wolf king, was crouching before you, hand outstretched offering you a choice. You mouth gaped open and you struggled to find the words.

Fenris, planet of ice and fables, how many times had you dreamed of seeing the fang, of running it's halls and basking in the warmth of hearth fires. And you'd be lying if seeing the lord of winter on one knee in front of you wasn't all kinds of tempting right now.

"why?" Was all you could squeak out as the moment started setting in. You searched his face for anything telling, but he still waited, a small upturn at the corner of his mouth as he eyed you up.

"because I find you amusing, because this place is too tame for you" he paused before continuing gruffly "because looking at you pleases me"

You chewed your bottom lip, deep in thought over the events of the evening, every step that led you to this moment, thinking bag to that smug arseholes face as he'd tried to touch you, of the uncountable number of lords and ladies who had pawed at you, simpering at you to gain favour or more. The drawn out speeches and the expectations thrust upon you by your brother.

"my lord Russ, I have heard a lot of stories about you, before we met today" you began carefully, watching his reaction. "As a warrior and as a man"

"Oh?"

"id quite like to see if there is any truth to them"

You placed your hand in his palm and an impish grin streaked across your face.

Leman dwarfed your hand is his own mighty grip as he rose to his full height, eyes beaming down you you, almost as bright as his smile as he began escorting you.

"come then, my little wolfling, the Aett awaits!"

"At least let me grab a bag!"

Refuse russ

You blinked, mouth agape as you stared at the mass of muscle and fur knelt before you.

Did you hear him right?

"go.... With you?"

He nodded slightly, dipping his chin to his chest as he watched you. His once toothy smile was replaced with a stoney visage as he waited, unmoving.

You wrung your hands together, casting your eyes up and down the hall. The creeping shadows offered you no cover to escape the question and the weight of his stare was too much to bare.

Thoughts of your family flashed through your mind, playing with the brother in the garden, him helping you hid as your parents called you to dinner.

Crying in his arms the night you lost your parents.

All the fight and fury that had burnt in you faded like a dream. You reached up, pulling the ornate eagle from your hair and placing it gently in the lords palm before stepping back.

"if only I could my lord" you smiled sadly "but my place is here, no matter what I wish otherwise"

The wolf lord looked down at the delicate pin in his hand and rose to feet.

"A shame to see such a fierce thing caged" he sighed, shaking his head slightly "I fear that fire you had is all but burnt out"

He turned away from you and began walking back down the corridor, his bulk melting into the darkness as he prowled away, leaving you alone, listlessly staring as your brief glimpse of freedom stalked into the gloom.

You fell to your knees and gasped, breath hitching in your throat as you choked back a sob.

My place is here

Smut below

Alt ending for going with Russ.

"because I find you amusing, because this place is too tame for you" he paused before continuing gruffly "because looking at you pleases me"

Word list

Ástin min- my love

Godjenta- good girl

Skítja- fenrisian curse word

Unnasta- sweetheart

Kvinna-woman

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺💦💦💦💦🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

You felt a knot tighten in your gut at his words and took a shaky breath. You stepped forward, dancing your fingers along his outstretched palm and smirked slightly when his hand dropped and rested lightly on your waist as you trailed your fingers up his arm, along his shoulder before gently caressing his jaw.

"I please you, my lord?" You muttered softly. His hand twitch on your hip and his jaw clenched as you snaked your hands around his neck, placing a soft kiss against his lips.

"does this please you too" you whispered as you pulled back, combing your fingers though his hair.

"does this?" You leant back in for another chaste kiss.

A low gutteral snarl was all the warning you got as he pulled you forward, your chest flush with his as he caught your lips with his own. You squeaked as you felt a calloused hand squeeze your ass and his tongue pushed into your mouth as you moaned.

Without breaking the kiss, Russ picked you up and spun you, seating you on a wooden storage cabinet and scattering the ornaments on top as he slipped from the kiss to your neck, biting and sucking at your skin as you sighed and tilted to allow him more access. All fears of being caught flew out of your mind, your eyes flew open and your breath hitched as he began to grind himself between your legs, his cock straining against his trousers and you felt his lips turn up into a smile as you whimpered.

Lemans hand snuck around the back of your dress, tugging the bow loose and allowing the shimmering fabric to drop off your shoulders and exposing your breasts. You arched into him and clutched his blonde hair as his mouth moved to your exposed chest, tongue circling your pebbled nipple. His other hand slid up your thigh towards your core, his finger brushing gently across your clit.

He pulled himself away and pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes black with desire as you panted.

"such a pretty voice, Astín mín" he growled, low and deep, sliding in a finger into your wet folds as you squirmed, teeth bared in a feral grin sliding his digit in and out of your wet cunt.

"le.. leman" you gasped as you felt muscles tightening "throne right there" nuzzled into his neck and breathing deep of his woody scent you cried out as you came, his finger working against your insides as he thumbed your sensitive clit.

The wolf pulled back from you, staring down at you hungrily as you sat gasping. His eyes shone in the dark, almost reflective as he admired you, your chest heaving and a faint wet shine on your thighs.

He ran his tongue along his teeth and watched as you slipped off the counter and reached for his waistband, shifting it down to free his dick. His chest rumbled as you looked up at him, doe eyes heavily lidded as you grasped his shaft and pumped it before trailing a wet lick from the base to his tip, lapping at the precum. The noise turned into a heavy beast like growl as you took him in your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue as you continued to hold his gaze, your eyes drifted shut as he stroked your head.

"godjenta...good girl" he hissed softly, placing a hand on your jaw as his hips bucked, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. You pulled away gulping for a breath, a line of spit dripping down your chin as the titan guided you to your feet using a gentle hand on your throat. He walked you backwards until your ass hit cold wood and picked you up, cupping your ass and wrapping your legs around his waist as you balanced on the oaken ledge. You wriggled as you felt him slide his member along the slick lips of your pussy.

"please" you keened, tugging on a coarse braid, trying to pull his closer, all it earned you was a heated laugh and a sharp nip to your collar bone.

"where is that fighting spirit from earlier, kvinna" he continued to rub against you, licking the blossoming bruises along your throat.

Bristling slightly you opened your mouth to reply, only managing a loud "huuuh" as he finally pushed inside you, grunting as he slowly stretched you out with his girth. You arch into him throwing your head back as he slowly bottomed out and tears pricked your eyes as you pushed to your limit. He stilled for a moment, allowing your breathing to even out before he slowly withdrew and thrust back into you.

Your pants and whimpers slowly turned into loud cries as he ground you into the chest, mingled with his grunts and curses as he fucked you.

"Skítja" he cursed breathless as he felt your warmth constrict around him as you peaked "like you were made for me"

You simply nodded, voice lost as you rocked back and forth from the force. You barely acknowledged when he picked you up, gripping your flushed body close to his broad chest as he bounced you on his member, chasing his own end gripped your thighs and ass. You felt his movements becoming uncoordinated and rougher and knew he was so close. You allowed yourself to fall back slightly and cupped his face in both your hands, gently pulling his eyes to meet yours.

"I want it... Inside" you begged breathlessly "my lord, my wolf...leman"

A groan erupted from the man as he came and you shuddered falling forward onto his tunic as you felt him fill you, his hips continued to rut into you as he finished.

You both stilled, the hallway silent but for your heavy breaths and the gentle crackle of open candle flame. Your lips tugged into a contended curve as the wolf lord placed a surprisingly tender kiss to the crown of your head.

"yes" you muttered into the shined leather of his chest.

His mass shifted under you slightly "yes?"

You shivered slightly at his voice, as honey sweet and warm as spiced mjord, still hazed with tones of arousal.

"yes I will come with you"

"you already did, unnasta" he hummed, amused by his own wit, it seemed.

"I meant to fenris" you chuckled back, lightly smacking him.

"I know" he finally slid you off him and gently placed you on the cold floor, sweeping the heavy fur off his shoulders and wrapping you in it, he stroked a thumb across your well kissed lips.

"The Aett can wait a little longer whilst we clean you up...and maybe go again"

[nightscythe]

primarchs being overstimulated**

**sexually -- nsfw, 18+ below the cut. pre-heresy

you've broken a primarch. congratulations! enjoy your prize ˃ ᵕ ˂

lion: he’d not seen it coming – he’d not been going at it that long with you, but truthfully, so many things you did utterly enamoured him. his hands gripped your hips, his breath was all over your neck, but one last feeling of you clenching around him had been enough. his hips stuttered, he held his breath for just long enough for you to notice, his weight almost falling onto you. in one last ditched effort to maintain his control, keep his eyes focused on you, he’d rolled his hips forward, voice commanding behind you. i’m not finished with you yet, kitten. but the way you moaned his name in response, arched your back a little more and begged him without asking? he shakes at the feeling, even comes close to begging you, too. don’t… don’t fucking move. 

fulgrim: you’d smirked when he’d told… asked you, with a delicate hand placed on your shoulder, be good for me, won’t you my love? you always were so good for him, sat on your knees like he wanted, asked him for permission, nodded along to every one of his requests like the good little thing he wanted you to be. somehow you being good always ended up with him beneath you, in whatever form, begging you to let him come. it was always when his cock was in your mouth that he’d be at his worse, crying, whining, fisting the sheets beside him whilst trying to find the words to beg you with. so when he asks through tears after what seems like hours of your slow and controlled mouth all over him, please, i can’t… i can’t take more, you just laugh and tell him to wait a little longer – and he loves it. 

perty: you knew he could get worked up when he was completely drunk on sex with you. he’d begged, just once, a whispered please as his hands found you and held you in place as he truly writhed at the sensations he was feeling. you weren’t sure what had caused such a reaction, you’d barely been taking his cock a few minutes when it had happened. but now, you craved it, wanting to hear him choking on his own pleasure, his body shaking, his mind broken. you’d edged him over and over, feigning innocence, you needed to stop for a second, you needed to readjust, just to see if pushing him over the edge that way would have the same reaction. it never did; or you never had the stamina to fully test it. his overstimulation was sporadic, and nothing you’d ever be able to control, so the next time he whispered more, please, more you never would have expected it. 

khan: it had been too long for you to remember, and you’d truly given in to the feeling of him fucking you raw, twitching inside you as his pants filled the air and he fell down above you, his chest pressed to your back. mine, he’d growl, his fingers gripped your waist, or anywhere he could hold you, leaving the beginnings of purple marks beneath them. he’d fucked you deep before, he always did, but you could feel him so much further this time. mine, little one, he’d choke out, faster again, mine to ruin, mine to make come… mine. you’d see stars far more times than you could count as the arm which held him up began to shake, something close to a moan left his lips, and he forced himself through the feeling to reward you one more time. 

leman: it was a near impossible feat to try to overstimulate him, but you’d prepared. patience, time, and your never-ending love for someone who craved it so badly. you had never seen him like this. usually so controlled, usually calling you his perfect little pup as you drool from how he makes you feel. but when he looks to you, desperate eyes searching for something as he feels something new, his lips parted and hands reaching for anything which gave him stability, he moans like it was the first time he’d ever released. i’m… fuck… again… he barely gets his words out as you ride him through it. he may have struck his claim on you the moment you smiled so sweetly back at him. no one else could ever make him feel that way. 

dorn: you’d be lying to say you weren’t pleased with your work. he never broke his control, he never showed less command than he wanted to, yet here he laid – his cheeks flushed a bright pink, his body covered in sweat like you’d pushed him to the very limits, his breaths coming in small pants. every time he tried to speak his voice would crack, never giving you more than a few sounds at a time. it hadn’t even been that long, but shutting him down seemed to do something to him. allowing him to feel pleasure outside of the bounds he’d created, pressing a kiss to his lips and telling him it was okay to let go, it was enough to ensure he did. the only problem you hadn’t calculated for was him becoming addicted to the feeling of falling apart at your fingertips. 

curze: he’d committed himself to take care of you, to reward you with whatever pleasure you deserved as a kind gesture to thank you for what you did for him. he loved the way you looked when you were utterly spent yet coming from him one more time because he really wanted to reward you. so when he feels himself falling into that exact same position after what he considers not that long, with his hips jerking, his cock aching yet begging to feel more, he’s furious with himself. tries to push himself through the feeling, focus on you, but the way you feel when you’re around him is just too much. one whimper, then the feeling of your fingers in his hair, he can barely understand what’s going on around him. it never happens. he tries to tell you that, but in the moment, he just wants to feel your arms around him and hear your heartbeat. maybe he’ll go again, it hadn’t taken too long for him to feel that way. 

sanguinius: he was made to serve you, and he’d never let you go without what you both wanted or needed. but everyone has a breaking point, and sanguinius is no different – it just takes a while for him to feel it. just one more, he’d ask you, please love. when you’d agreed, let him pleasure you whilst getting himself off, you’d not imaged what it would end with. minutes after he came he’s still hard, whimpering each and every he’s reminded of your touch, the way you made him feel too. he cries, almost sobs at the way you purr his name and bring him back to you. he wanted more, yet knew he couldn’t take anymore – but if it pleased you, if he got to see you come one more time for him? he’d go through anything to see that, even if that meant breaking himself. 

ferrus: you’d seen him overstimulated before because it wasn’t hard to get him to that point, and what a sight it was. he’d wind himself up, rougher with each minute that passed as he cursed his own weakness for how susceptible he was to the feeling of you – no matter what you were doing to him. it felt like he was being pulled deeper, yet pushed over the edge, something he couldn’t explain or rationalise, which made it feel even worse. as he groaned from the sounds you were making, his teeth sink into the skin near your neck and he basically growls at you, you can’t break me. but you can, and you are, and you have many times before. he’d bury his cock into you like he’d never feel you again, silently whispering a flurry of words you’d never hear again. 

angron: anything with you is a sensation he would crave; love, hate, or sex. every time he comes for you, he always wants more, but he’s always right at the edge already. his hand wrapped around your throat, not to do anything more than rest there, hold you in place as his mouth finds your ear and his hips buckle and he presses you between him and the wall. now, come for me, he’d tell you, now, right now, want to feel you when i break. his aggression is hidden behind the moan that meets your skin, how his breath trembles each time he ruts into you. his mind short circuits the moment you listen to his command, and in that second, nothing matters other than you.  

rob: he’d prized himself on his own composure, and it was no different with you. like another of his brothers, it was your mouth which truly ended that composition. his fingers weaved into your hair as you take his cock in your throat so well, looking up through those pretty lashes to meet his eyes and moan around him. his breath stutters as he bites back his own moan. what are you doing to me, he’d muse, gripping your hair a little tighter. when he starts to feel too much, he’d pull you off his cock, making you wait for a moment before having you deepthroat him nice and slow until the sensation began to wear off. he’d not let you witness his true overstimulation, not until he’d come at least once. 

morty: you’d not known what to expect from him. always so controlled, measured, his dominance never falters around you. he’d tell himself to stop even if his body ached for more, begged him for just a little taste of something, someone, so sweet. so just before he comes again, again, unexpected yet chasing the high of feeling you all over him and so eager to please him, his hand slams down beside you and he ruts into you like he’s never had the pleasure of coming before. he tries to keep control, but it was slipping, his desperate fucking doing little to disguise the needy little sub he really is inside. he’d ride out his high again, minimal words offered to you, but somewhere amongst everything he says a thank you, then another, knowing he’d never find another like you. 

magnus: he's always wanted to please you, serve you silently in your pleasure and know that the way you squirm and writhe is because of him. he never knew that he could feel the same way - but if you took your time with him, he'd get there. could take days of build-up. if you got him truly lost in the way you took him, made him feel so loved and appreciated and truly fucked out, praised him like he truly was the brightest star in the whole universe? he'd shatter the presence of the warp around him. starts with a quiet beg, please my love, please. ends him stuttering parts of his words without any meaning. don't... can't... please... please... love..., his hands grasping at you, needing to hold something for his own sanity. he enjoys the unexpected feeling that overstimulation gives him, never truly wanting it to end. 

horus: he loved seeing you on top. nothing made his day brighter. except for maybe when you were straddling his soaked thighs, your hands reaching for his own that shook at your sides, consoling him as he told you it was too much, hurts, and not sure i can take more, sweetheart. even as he says that he’s reaching to slide his cock into you, ready to watch you ride him and really break him. because it never took too long for him, not as he gasped your name, threw his head back and let you take over. only thing that could make it even better was if you laid beside him afterwards and whispered sweetly how much you loved him and stroked him until he came again, but that was too much to ask for... right?

lorgar: he’d give you anything you wanted, really. so when you ask him what’s wrong, whether he can’t take one more round of you fisting his cock, maybe even fucking him, he shakes his head and practically begs you for it. he can barely breathe, he’s lasted for so long that you didn’t think he’d ever reach this point, and even as his fingers twitch and curl into something to stabilise him, he’s still trying to praise you. just a few words, movements, anything from you is enough to have him over the edge. every time you come, he thanks you. every time you make him come, another thank you. when he feels his body shake, when he’s completely broken, that’s what he considers worship – and it makes him cry the hardest. 

vulkan: you’d never anticipated being in this position, given what it would take to actually reach the point where he was overstimulated. but when he looks down at you, his chest heaving beneath him as his lips tremble, one feverish kiss pressed to your lips as he buries his head into your shoulder and fucks you through the feeling, you realise there’s only need buried behind his eyes. he speaks so softly through his own high, telling you again how much he loves you and, somewhere along the lines, that you’ll be the death of me when his hips stutter and a hiss leaves his lips, only to be followed by a low moan. he tells you i’ll take care of you, that it’s all okay beloved, but he won’t stop until you’re worse off than he is. 

corvus: he’d not realised how close he was to breaking. i’m not done with you, he’d barked as he held you right where he wanted you. his voice was shaking, his hands barely held the same strength as before, but he’d not allowed himself to stop. all this to give you, he’d mumble against your skin, sweat dripping down his chest as he stops to look at you, you’re going to take it all, aren’t you, little dove? he’d not realised that the only thing keeping him upright was your pleasure. he only sinks the tip in and he loses everything. a whimper leaves his lips as tears prick in the corners of his eyes, yet he forces himself to endure and fucks you through every second of his overstimulation. he can lay beside you afterwards – all he wants now is to see you come undone one more time for him.  

alpharius: he was always craving more than he needed, maybe more than he wanted. it wasn’t enough to come once, twice, even three times for you. it wasn’t even enough to see you come double that for him. he’d worn himself out, ruined himself to the thought of you because you were the only thing that mattered to him. hurts, angel. even if it did hurt, he buries his cock inside you once more. i need more, angel, i can’t stop. you… he’d stop for just a second to look at you. you’re everything. and every time he feels broken from how good you feel, he falls a little more in love with you, sinking his claws in just a little deeper so you’ll never leave. 

for @constanceisonline, thank you for the request ◡̈ intriguing to consider and think about, thank you for being so patient!

[monalisahyperdrive]

Primarch names from least moanable to the most moanable - entirely subjective.

Factors taken into account:

Name length

How easy it is to say

General vibes ('imagine having sex with a guy and having to moan gilbert')

I wrote this instead of sleeping. I don't know either. This is getting posted and I will probably never address it again if I don't delete it during my break tomorrow. I should not be given internet access past 11pm.

Perturabo

It pained me to put him all the way down (up?) here at the least moanable as I fear he may actually be one of my favourites, however... I am not delusional enough to ignore that not only is this a pretty long name, a good amount of people struggle not only to say it but to even spell it. Not at all dyslexia friendly. I would give it a good go but I feel like in order to enjoy yourself you kind of have to accept you will be calling him 'Perty' or 'Bo' or whatever you prefer.

Sanguinius

Sanguinius fans please spare me but this is a long ass name at 3? 4? syllables. I don't even know what you could call him for short instead. However, I don't doubt that it's entirely possible, I just think it would take a while to stop stuttering through.

Mortarion

Another long name. Are you sensing a pattern yet? I am. More moanable due to having less vowels than Sanguinius and less harsher (?) consonants like in Perturabo. Pretty middle of the road, easy to pronounce, could probably be easier if you just start calling him 'Morty' instead.

Alpharius / Omegon

Alpharius is again another longer name that I feel like I would trip over for a good couple weeks. I am NOT shorting it to Alpha. I must maintain my dignity, whatever crumbs of it remain. Omegon is an easier name - likely due to it having less syllables (3 rather than 4). However, I feel like the only way to shorten it would be 'Meg' and that would make me laugh and I would get distracted. Remember how I said this is subjective? This is why.

Jaghatai

3 syllables, easy enough to say, not a lot of vowels or harsher consonants to trip over. Incredibly doable, and I'm sure many have tried it. Hell, I'd certainly take a good stab at it.

Angron

Harsh G right in the middle, otherwise no complaints really. 2 syllables. Straight forward. You could certainly give it a good go.

Rogal

2 syllables - easy right? Wrong. Evil G right there in the middle again. Probably would have been higher (lower?) on the list if it was softened with maybe an H right after. Alas, it is not so.

Corvus

2 incredibly easy syllables. The V is a little evil (harsh) but with a relatively short name and a soft starting consonant I'm sure it's manageable. Best bird boy. Not much else to say.

Fulgrim

Although apparently a good chunk of people have given it a go - or at least his wives have - we're back to the G dilemma. Personally I'd suggest calling him 'Fulgie' - like Fergie but worse.

Konrad

Quite possibly the most normal name on the whole list. Konrad. Everyone can say Konrad. An easy two syllables with the harshest letter right at the start. Easy peasy.

Roboute

I actually don't know if this is 2 syllables or 3. I even went and looked on Reddit. Some people are saying Ro-Bou-Te, I've been reading it Ro-Boot. Either way these are easy, with the harshest sound being the T of all things. Either way I don't think moaning for poor long suffering Robert is too tricky.

Vulkan

Deceptively soft V and K. What a pleasant surprise. Anyone could moan this easily, and he'd probably be delighted.

Lion

Objectively this is incredibly easy, which is why it made it so high (low?) on the scale. However, I would argue moaning 'Lion' in full sincerity is somewhat hilarious. That sure is the name of an incredibly powerful (and unfortunately incredibly sexy) man.

Magnus

Easy to moan. Probably wouldn't mind if you gave it a go. Again, one of the easier names. I'm sure he'd be happy to tutor you on the subject.

Lorgar

Flows nicely, 2 short syllables, incredibly straight forward. Started mentally calling him 'Lorgie', never recovered.

Ferrus

Incredibly straight forward name. Ferrus, pronounced the same as Ferrous, like the iron tablets. Something something you should do it, it's medicinal.

Leman

Not at the top due to the time it took to decide whether it was Lee-man or Le-man (like lemon). Personal gripe, but if you've gotten this far down without understanding that I don't know what to tell you. Quick, easy, sure why not.

Horus

As much as I wish to be deeply spiteful and shove him somewhere unremarkable in the middle, I just can't do it. This is an easy name. Don't worry, if you struggle at all I'm sure he'd be willing to let you keep trying until you figure it out. Bastard.

[solspina]

Rating primarchs based on how good of a boyfriend they would be

full send no context

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

Horus : 8/10

He’s a nice guy for the most part, very charismatic and though very goal focused he’s also kind and open to those he’s closest to. Outwardly, he’s very straightforward, stern, and absolutely ruthless to his enemies. There’s humanity within him though, and he won’t keep his friendly, loving demeanor away from those who deserve it. Find him at a celebratory event, drunk with Sanguinius, moments in which he’s full of nothing but laughter and love for his brothers and the one who stands beside him. His love language is quality time.

Leman Russ : 4/10 (negotiable)

Though he knows love, it seems to be quite strictly familial. He’s described often as ruthless and barbaric, naive and braggish. If you can put up with things like that, I’m sure he would be a fine boyfriend. Similarly enough though, he’s had many women try to court him all at once, and successfully. I can’t promise his loyalty if someone better looking comes along, as no one ever taught him the importance of that. Outside of the constant, lingering fear of replacement, he can have his caring and understanding moments, occasionally bringing you gifts from crusades and sieges on other planets. Maybe his loyalty to the emperor would apply to his lover too, if you tell him what it means to you. His love language is gift giving.

Ferrus Manus : 7/10

Rage is his fatal flaw if we’re being honest. Not towards you, but towards battle. Toward you I imagine he would be more straightforward and honest, though trustworthy and strong willed to make your relationship work. Loyalty will never ever ever be an issue with him, but it seems like he spends more time with war and battle than he does you. He spends time with you when he can, though, and he truly does care. Points off for his temper. He gave his brothers personalized gifts, and i’m sure he would go through many lengths to do the same for you. His love language is gift giving.

Fulgrim: 6/10

He’s constantly trying to be perfect, and he wants whoever he’s with to be perfect too. A lot of the time, it gets to his head. He can be incredibly ignorant quite often, and isn’t very considerate of your feelings. You’re more of an idol to him, a model. You’re human, so he sees you as perfect, something he and his people should strive to be like. Youre idealized, and under rose tinted lenses, this looks a lot like love… Lots of acts of service and gift giving.

Vulkan : 10/10

The only man you will ever need point blank period. He’s patient, he’s empathetic, he’s kind, he’s humane. He’s incredibly easy to love, and he truly is beloved. The Salamanders love you too, sometimes listening to your commands as if they were his. You’re respected as long as you’re under his arm. He wants to understand the way humans feel, especially understand the reason they wrap their arms around each other and sleep with their bodies entwined at night. His love language is physical touch.

Rogal Dorn : 6/10

He’s incredibly loyal, and also incredibly honest, but his seriousness can get in the way sometimes. You love him, very much, but there are times you get into petty arguments and he has to go consult Horus and Sanguinius for advice on what to do. He’s also very reserved at times, a lot like a single dad who’s just doing his best to keep his job and go about his day. Acts of service would be his love language.

Roboute Guilliman : 9/10

Guilliman is a great boyfriend, a great tactician, a great warrior, all of the above. The only reason i’d take a point off is because I believe he may be a little arrogant at times. He believes that his way is the right way, but he’s usually willing to listen to you and your concerns. He’s incredibly intelligent, very sympathetic and understanding of human trials and concerns, and he’s a lot like we are modern times. I think he would look for comfort in a significant other, and his love language is likely acts of service.

Magnus the Red : 3/10

Another man that I don’t recommend being with. He’s more arrogant than Fulgrim. When I said Guilliman believes his way is the right way, Magnus takes it a step up. He thinks he’s ALWAYS right. He cares, and he means well, but he’s way too much to put up with. Highly manipulative and self absorbed, don’t put yourself in that situation. He values knowledge more than he does you.

Sanguinius : 10/10

Besides the fact he’s a vampire, you’re probably the most safe with him. He genuinely cares for you and your well-being, and sleeping next to him at night with his wing draped over you is an absolute dream in a universe plagued by war. His sons may fall to their bloodthirst when they’re on the home ship, and Sanguinius is fast to wrap himself around his human partner and protect them from any and all harm. You hold him through his sorrow every time a mass of humans or his sons lose their lives, and you watch him kneel to offer you his loyalty and unconditional love rather than you offering it to him. He gives both physical touch and words of affirmation.

Lion El’Jonson : 7/10

Of course he has his moments where he can come off as aloof and paranoid, but that’s for the most part only on the battlefield. Outside, he’s incredibly charming and charismatic, but in a noble way. When his paranoia gets to him after an argument, he seeks out Sanguinius and Horus for advice, wanting nothing more to fix your relationship and solve whatever went wrong. He become more secretive as time goes on, but old habits die hard. I believe he’d offer acts of service.

Perturabo : 6/10

He’s incredibly smart, but finds relating to you and your human tendencies incredibly difficult. His moods can shift and change rapidly and violently, but I believe he means you no true harm. He would never hurt you intentionally, often opting to back away and give himself space, sometimes for days. He never returns to you without a mechanically engineered gift, though, one of his design. Alongside a very gentle hug and a conversation about how you care about him, what he loves. You love him, not for his usefulness to the emperor, but for him. His love language is definitely gift giving.

Mortarion : 8/10

He’s very confused as to why you would choose him. He’s disgusting, an abomination, he hated everything from psykers to his oppressors, what did anything matter if he would be left to the mercy of another oppressor anyways? All thoughts he had until he met you. He was cold and hateful to you at first, untrusting, and yet you showed him kindness. You showed him kindness over and over again. For once, it wasn’t just a one time thing. You’re the only thing in this universe who sees him as more than a warlord, more than the embodiment of death itself, so for you he has a soft spot. He hates the idea of having a human curl up next to him, absorbing his warmth and disease alike… and yet you do. You remind him that his touch is not deadly, and he too is capable of humanity. He will be more considerate of his decisions, because for once, something matters. His love language is physical touch, because he’s been deprived for so long, you’re the only one who allows him that piece of humanity.

Lorgar : 5/10

Does he love you? Does he not? No… He needs you… Maybe he just needs space actually.He loves you, he really does, and by god he tries his best, but when you’re as impulsive and indecisive as he is, it’s hard to know sometimes. If you’re okay with it working 50% of the time, maybe more maybe less, I’m sure you’ll be fine. His love language is… uh… well?

Jaghatai Khan : 7/10

Loyal, decently humble, and a relatively peaceful man. Outside of war, he has potential to be great to you. When war is his focus, however. Expect no attention, he’s a fierce warrior and needs to focus on his allegiance to the emperor, that’s what comes first. You follow very closely after, though! He’s quick to praise you for the things you do well and gently remind you of a better course of action when it comes to the things you don’t do too well. Acts of service enjoyer.

Konrad Curze : 2/10

DO NOT DATE THIS MAN. Konrad is a walking red flag. The self loathing, the anger, the angst, the general belief in humanity as a fallacy. He’s also incredibly violent, and may cause you serious harm if you ever managed to anger him. He’s a primarch, and you’re a human. Don’t you dare piss him off. I don’t know why anyone would realistically want that. Please continue to paint him as mean angry babygirl with a soft spot in your fics though. If you think you can fix him, you can’t. The emperor already tried.

Angron : 4/10

Before his conversion to chaos, Angron would’ve been a great boyfriend if we’re being honest. He was kind, compassionate, encouraging. He loved you when you were enslaved beside him, but once he became a primarch and lost everything, his beloved included, he became one of the most ruthless and cruel people out there until he succumbed to Khorne. He doesn’t remember you. His love language was words of affirmation.

Corvus Corax : 4/10

A very melancholic and depressed primarch. He’s very angsty and honestly a major drag to be around. He and Konrad, i feel like, would be better boyfriends to each other than either of them would be to you. Corvus isn’t as violent as Konrad, but he definitely carries on the hatred, the sorrow, and the bitterness. He’s also very sensitive, so expect to be met with either violence or a breakdown if you try to leave. 2 extra points because you may get to keep your life, his love language is words of affirmation, always followed by self deprecation.

Alpharius Omegon : 7/10

He’s they’re a great boyfriend to be honest, though very secretive, and that raises many questions. You don’t know that there are two of them. It’s a secret, not even one that you’re allowed to know the answer to. Alpharius is obviously the more dominant brother, the one who you think has a soft side. He doesn’t. That’s not him, that’s Omegon. Omegon is much more gentle, quiet, and quite honestly a little more touchy. Why? because you make him feel seen. Alpharius is used to the spotlight, so giving him every ounce of your attention feels like the usual, though he still enjoys it very much. Alpharius expresses love through acts of service and gift giving, while Omegon expresses love through words of affirmation and quality time. They make up for everything the other lacks, as long as you don’t know the massive secret they’re keeping from you…

[floralynn-arts]

Baby-primarchs series continues on~

Next: Angron & Lorgar, sometime next week!

[aggresivemenace]

Physical consequences of sex with primarchs pt 1.

Pt. 2:

Bite marks: Russ, Sanguinius, Curze, Lion.

These guys LOVE marking you this way.

Sanguinius is the most gentle of all, always asking for permission before taking a little bite of his beloved wife. He hardly ever drinks your blood, only if you ask him yourself. He cherishes the taste: warm and a bit sweet, but refuses to associate you with mere sustenance.

Russ tries to be as careful as possible, but sometimes, he just can't hold himself back. If he draws blood or you complain afterwards, he’ll always apologize, then soothe the bite marks with his tongue to ease the soreness.

Lion openly enjoys it. He never draws blood, but he leaves his marks - ones you'll have to hide later. You are his woman, and in his eyes, that gives him every right to claim you.

Curze always draws blood, relishing the way you squirm and whine as his teeth sink into your delicate flesh. But when it’s over, he's an aftercare expert—rubbing alcohol into your little wounds while murmuring something dark and gruesome that, in his own crooked way, counts as a love confession.

Hickeys: Perturabo, Khan, Fulgrim

They like to kiss you, but sometimes get carried away...

For Perturabo, this feeling of control over you is absolutely intoxicating. When he presses his lips against your neck and feels your heartbeat through thin skin, he feels so damn significant. Significant for his wife, the woman he adores.

Khan leaves a scarlet mark on every part of your body that he likes, reminding you of his endless love. And since he adores you from head to toe, there will be many.

Fulgrim sees these marks of kisses as art. You are both his muse and his canvas, while he is your artist - obsessed and in love with his mesmerising nymph. In his eyes, your body is a magnificent meadow, which he paints with flowers: first in crimson, then blossoming into shades of yellow, blue, violet, and pink. His own pattern, his imagination in the form of colour.

Surprisingly, he does not see these traces of love as imperfections. Just as he marks you, he allows you to cover his neck with little hickeys or even bites. His shamelessness knows no bounds - he might even casually remark the next day, "Ah, my neck? My wife was particularly passionate last night!"

Pregnancy: Horus, Big E

YOU HEARD ME

*refuses to elaborate*

*leaves*

2 pt. with other bois is coming btw

[thevoidscreams]

How would each primemarch be if their wife is pregnant with their child?

No real warnings for this one other than pregnancy Lion: He's as cool as ever on the outside but he's secretly a mess on the inside. The lion is not the kind to be very open with his emotions so to some (Of the few who actually know) it might seem he has no feelings at all about his wife carrying his progeny. However those who know him better notice how close he keeps you from the start. He's not going to allow anything to happen to his beautiful lioness. 2: Went out for milk and didn't come back. Fulgrim: "Oh have you heard? My darling wife is with child." This man could not be anymore different, he makes sure everyone knows and is appropriately excited. After all how could they not be? He was going to have a child that was truly his own. He parades you about in clothes that show your progressive belly and he makes a show of rubbing it in. Not even his most beloved brother Ferrus is spared. Well to be fair Ferrus is especially the target of the pheonicians excitement.

Perturabo: He is quietly delighted his giant hands have never been so gentle. His honor guard becomes yours for the whole duration, not that they weren't ordered to keep you safe as well, but now they are especially vigilant. He doesn't make a fuss about it outwardly but the nursery soon fills with tiny marvels of engineering for your future child.

Jaghatai: He's also quiet about it, but he's always been a bit aloof about his brother. But in private he is incredibly happy, practically worshiping your body. Making sure you only have the best food. He's a very dedicated husband and soon to be father.

Leman: Is boastful about it. But also very vigilant. He's not letting you out of his sight so long as you've got his pup in your womb. He keeps you warm on cold nights as he refuses to let his child be born anywhere but on Fenris so you do have to suffer the biting cold. Don't worry though, you'll have more furs than you can shake a stick at to keep you comfortable.

Rogal:

No one even knew you were pregnant until the kid came. Though their were signs, kinda, like every place you stepped foot in having even more recent additions to the defenses. His best sons being put on guard duty. A rare quiet smile on his contemplative face and stern face. His apothecaries are the only ones not completely shocked.

Curze:

Oh boy if he was a mess before?... Hes actually quite mellow for most of the pregnancy, of course that is once he's established paternity. It's not that he doubts you, it's that there are other men on his ship and he can't trust them. He holds you even closer now at night. Whispering feverish, yet loving inanities to you. His hard bitter laugh has a softer edge to it now. Could it be that he might finally have two good things in his life to bring his mind out of the darkness?

Sanguinius: I'm saying it now, he started trying early, as soon as the ring was on your finger. Sanguinius loves his sons and that love is only amplifies for the child growing in your womb. But along with that love is a terrible anxiety, what if the child is touched by his thirst, doomed to live with the curse as he and his other children are? He'll love them all the same absolutely nothing will change that. And he somehow loves you even more for this gift of life you are creating with him.

Ferrus: His massive metal hands hold you so gently when you give him the news. He has so much to do, and so much to be. Now he must also be a real father, not only to his astartes, but to a small bundle of life that will share half of his dna. Should he tell anyone? Fulgrim? His father? Ferrus feels very real uncertainty about it. He will tell no one, he decides and puts an even more robust guard around you at all times unless you are with him, in his arms. It becomes the safest place in universe just for you.

11: Went out for smokes and didn't come back.

Angron: How did this even happen? Most people assumed your marriage to this giant butcher was all for show. But no, he is your husband and despite his moments of temporary insanity at the clawing of nails in his brain, he managed to do it. He won't touch you unfortunately. Despite his general disposition about things he does not hate you, and his fear of the nails keeps his hands at bay. No matter how much you plead. He will not risk the life of his child. In his moments of clarity you hold his hand, and kiss it, he tells you he loves you. You alone in the universe as he twitches at the biting of the nails. Maybe he will go back to perturabo and finally allow his brother to aid him. For your sake and for your child.

Roboute: Also quite hush hush about the pregnancy, he journals the whole experience, and builds the nursery with his own hands, putting his own little touches on the place. His hearts swell with delight every time he thinks about it. He holds you in his arms as he picks the handcrafted animals that will go into the rooms. He thanks you softly for allowing him to have this experience. He also has the whole timeline planned out for the pregnancy, you let him have it despite knowing that these things hardly ever go exactly according to plan.

Mortarion: Is this even allowed? Is what he keeps thinking to himself, but he is happy. Fearful as well as you progress, what if he ends up being like the awful monster that raised him? Or even like his own father. He vows to not be those men, he promises to you over and over that he will be the best father. On his knees, he swears to you. He loves you so much and his love your child as well.

Magnus: As soon as you tell him that you're with child he begins divining. Looking into the potential futures to ensure his child's safety. He messages you with his collection of scented oils as he tells you of the endless futures he's seen. He loves to touch you, to feel the aura of his little one growing inside you. He'll know them better than even you by the time they're born. His sons are just as joyful about all this, but do come up with some wild concerns that you never even considered. Magnus puts all theirs worries and yours to rest, telling you hes seen what may happen and will not allow any negatives to come to pass. He is arrogant, for sure, but it does make your fears less.

Horus: He couldn't have kept it under wraps even if he tried. His sons soon learn from the mournival and now every lunar wolf is on high alert to keep you safe. Even Ezekiel, those that's on orders from his primarch. Horus spends as much time as he is able with you. He's glad to be a father, a true father, fulfilling his unspoken desires at long last. He treats you like a queen, and you are never far from his side. As he speaks soft words of love to you and kisses your hands and cheeks.

Lorgar: Lorgar looks at you as if you hung the stars yourself when you tell him. He dedicates himself to you throughout the whole process, at you beck and call the whole time. He acquires for you the most luxurious things he can to pamper you. Most of your evenings are spent with him massaging you with lotions or oils as her tells you tales from his compliances. He adores you so much. Vulkan: He is likely the most outwardly expressive with his delight. Not boasting or bragging but delightedly sharing the good news with his family. It's a nice feeling, to be so openly praised by a primarch. He, like many of this other builder brothers makes toys for his soon to arrive child. He's attentive, maybe even a bit smothering. But it's all to ensure that you are happy and well. His sons are also over the moon at the news, there much beloved legion mother carrying their brother or sister. You will certainly be very safe and loved, that's for sure.

Corvus: He might tell a few of his brothers and his father, but other than that he keeps it a rather private affair. He will of course keep you close and when he is unable will have a silent guard keeping an eye on your every move to ensure your safety. At night when he holds you, he will sing you to sleep with his soft mellow voice. His dark eyes scanning the shadows for any movement. He will keep you and his little chick safe in his nest. Alpharius/Omegon: The question is who's the father? True they are twins of a sort, technically two halves of what would have been one being. But still. Either way, no one but the three of you will even know until the baby comes and even then it's largely going to be a rumor. You are well cared for as you always are, but the two fathers will ensure that regardless, nothing happens and no one knows.

[bleedingichorhearts]

“𝐈’𝐦 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬…” {1/2}

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: How I would think the Primarchs would react to you saying “I’m getting too old for this.” Yandere Primarchs would be a different story…

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: The “Primarchs” reacting to you saying “I’m too old for this.” Simple as that.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k.

TW // Slight Angst.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°| • {Part 2}

The Emperor; “Revelation:”

He hears your words through your soul. He doesn’t need to be in front of you to hear you say you’re “too old” comment to yourself, and he feels… indifferent about it, in a way. Sure, you’re his counterpart, but he has always expected you to eventually fall to the hands of death before him. It was inevitable. He was a proclaimed god, and you? A simple human. A human that reminds him of too much true humanity itself despite his title…

Lion El’Johnson; “The First:”

Is also indifferent about it and expects it. He knows the consequences and prepares himself for it, or at least tries to. His face is voided of emotion, but his eyes stare and that means a lot than what many lead on. He won’t show it, act or even acknowledge it, and perhaps… he doesn’t want to.

Fulgrim; “The Phoenician:”

Gasps at you from like a 5-mile radius (maybe more) before coming to where you are leaning down to sweep you up in his arms. Kissing you on the cheek and forehead, and it’s very much to your confusion. Your hubby is being very affectionate with you randomly. Well, until he praises you on your age and how remarkable you look do you piece together what happened to get such lovin’.

Perturabo; “Lord of Iron:”

Pretends not to care, but he does give a very low hum of acknowledgement. Is somehow better than his first brother as he at least acknowledged your words. (From a far radius as well.) He’s a bit… hurt? At your words, but he knows it’s inevitable as well. Though, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t change something within his workplace to make you more comfortable and less eligible to say those words again.

Jaghatai Khan; “The Warhawk:”

Would pick you up, kiss you on the neck before giving you to the other wives of his sons. Requesting them to pamper you for the day, and if they can’t? He will, and he’s surprisingly good at it. It’s nothing much compared to the thought of your aging death, but he can at least make it more comfortable, right?

Leman Russ; “The Wolf King:”

Plays excited and happy, but is… gloomy on the inside. He doesn’t like your words, you should prosper, hunting with him and his sons forever. Yet he is not oblivious to the acts of death: slow and fast. Though, maybe hunting with his sons in the… afterlife would be more enjoyable? Lasting? He doesn’t like to think too much on it, but he’ll try and spend his time with you more often. (Not like he already does.)

Rogal Dorn; “Praetorian of Terra:”

Gives you a voided stare like his first brother too. Though, he also doesn’t really acknowledge it either, with words anyway. He may act though, doing the same thing his 4th brother does. Trying to provide you with a much more comfortable environment. Stop complaining about his quarters being enough. He must ensure structure.

Konrad Cruze; “Dark King:”

Stares at you too, but is like… worse than Lord Dorns stare. You think he’ll do anything for your uttered words? Thats right, he won’t. If he let himself die to the hands of an assassin? He’ll let you suffer your age. He feels indifferent about not killing you himself however… He may or may not offer extra human bones to you.

Sanguinius; “The Angel:”

Looks at you for a second: up and down before giving a low hum, and gracefully walking to your side. Inside, he doesn’t like your words and he knows his sons around him don’t like it either. It’s one of the many things they think they can’t live without: you. He’ll cover you with his wings as everything seems to get painfully quiet, but he’ll praise you as if nothing happened.

Ferrus Manus; “The Gorgon:”

His legion would simply not care, but him? He’s affected by it. Yes, he likes your humanity, but please. Don’t say those words. He doesn’t wish to think upon them. He doesn’t wish for you to… possibly be like his sons. He’ll keep you more close to him than usual after that, keeping a good eye on you. He won’t say anything, but he’s… there.

[fyxestroll]

Whose Problem Is It When the Primarchs Fall in Love? Pt.1

note: this was meant to be crack-ish but I sniffed some angst powder so some of these came out angstier than expected. also for anyone who sent requests, I'm working on them family problems and school are just getting in the way <33

Lion - It’s his problem. On the outside nothing is wrong everything is fine but on the inside everything is wrong and everything is NOT fine but you wouldn’t notice anything is going on. For Lion, falling in love involves a lot of self-discovery and constant repression. It’s all internal and his resting bitch face isn’t helping.

Unnamed Primarch #2 - You got erased out of existence too.

Fulgrim - On everybody’s soul, especially Ferrus Manus’ it’s EVERYONE’S problem. Not even the Chaos Gods and Empy are safe! This man right here has so many unaddressed self-worth issues that he constantly feels the need to have someone to validate his acts of courting before even doing the thing. 

Perturabo -  Its everyone’s problem. Not unlike Fulgrim, Perturabo has so many unaddressed self-worth issues and feels the need for validation but unlike Fulgrim, its all out in the open. He’s already bitter about a lot of things and if he falls in love it wouldn’t be surprising if he’s already given up on pursuing that person. You’d be something he deems out of his reach, someone not even worth reaching because the rejection is in his mind guaranteed. He’s bitter towards you, loving hating everything you do and say. If you express any sort of positive reaction towards any of his gene-sons his ire towards that specific astartes worsens. The worst part? If your feelings towards Perturabo are reciprocated you’d have difficulty reaching him with him practically pushing you away. Please be patient with him, his heart is fragile.

Jaghatai Khan - Problem? There’s no problem! Genuinely, if this guy falls in love there wouldn’t be an issue because he’s in tune with his emotions and doesn’t have a penchant for skinning people alive (sorry Konrad). The closest thing this man would have to a problem when falling in love is the issue of courting. Chogoris courting norms involve matchmakers, families and of course bride-prices and dowries. If you aren’t from Chogoris he’ll try his best to follow the equivalent of/mix Chogorian traditions in courting. Either way, it’s less of a problem and more of a brief logistical headache at most. 10/10 would marry him tbh

Leman Russ - It's your problem.  He's enthusiastic about it and so is his entire legion. Thats a lot of wingmen and they're probably singing the Fenrisian equivalent of kiss the girl every chance they get. It's very endearing to be honest but the eagerness borders being overbearing.

Rogal Dorn - Dorn falling in love only affects 3 parties, you, him and his Iron Fists. Out of the 3 parties, Dorn falling in love is only disastrous to 2, the Fists and him. Dorn’s acts of affection are quiet, and if you aren’t aware of his affection these acts are easy to miss. It doesn’t help that a painted brick has more self-expression than this man. Pair that with not wanting to be improper this results in what he deems romantic and not lacking in proprietary  (He helped you landscape and design your garden). Now, the Fists come into play here by being Dorn’s feedback loop of ideas and internal turmoil that more often than not involves building things. The Fists don’t really mind but they are a bit miffed about fortifying your house or something when they could be something that they believe is more effective.

Konrad Curze - Its your problem and his problem. Look, this man is a murderous mess that's haunted by the visions of the terrible future if he falls in love he’d hate himself for doing so because it feels wrong. Positive emotions and experiences are foreign to him, so for Konrad love is something he feels he is entirely undeserving of and is just waiting for the ball to drop. In all honestly, he expects you to die or be the subject of his terrible visions so he immediately expects the worse and resigns himself to watching you from a distance. As this is all internal no one knows what’s going on with Konrad other than his usual Konradness so imagine the terror of being constantly watched by the Night Haunter with no clue on what drew his attention in the first place. 

Sanguinius - It’s his problem but he like all his problems its ignored and repressed. Sanguinius tries to deny the fact that he’s fallen in love for numerous reasons, including The Red Thirst and his impending doom. Also, a part of Sanguinius fears rejection, or at least a form of it. He’s beloved and he knows it but to be loved in the way that someone seeks to know all of him feels impossible. He is loved as an idol, a figure of all that is and could be good and that he’d come to accept. Being truly loved is a dream to him, a dream he holds close to his heart and something he’d take to his grave.

 Ferrus Manus - It's your problem because this man is like a rock. Feelings? What’s that? It’s not that Ferrus is unfeeling, in fact I feel like he’s one of the Primarchs who fall in love the easiest but when he falls in love he doesn’t know how to categorize that person exactly. He is fond, sure, but he can’t put a finger on how fond he is so he puts you in the my-favorite-people box with Fulgim. Basically,  he shoots himself in the foot early on by putting you in the friend zone without realising it. Good luck falling first with this guy, its slow-burn pining with a metal wall for you.

[slaaneshisass]

[druidwolf21]

Asks are open to all!

Story list

Just in case anyone wanted to peruse or anything

Art by

Story requests are open

📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖

First impressions

Introduction

Part 1- Guilliman

Part 2- Leman russ

Part 3- Sanguinius

Part 4- Lion El'jonson

Sanguinius

Consumption

Mine

Bolter

Five more minutes

Leman russ

Homesickness

Returning

Corvus corax

Pretty thing

Roboute guilliman

Dreaming

Lullaby

Magnus

Shipwreck

Shipwreck part 2

Angron

Soft touches

Jaghatai khan

Freedom

Rogal Dorn

Fort

Ulryk, space wolf oc

Wolf priest Ulryk/fem reader : interrogation

Braid

Traditions

Konrad Curze

Daughter of kurze

Cala-sister of silence

Part 1- ambush

OTHER

Lorgar/mortarion/reader: therapy

Jago sevatarion/reader

Drabble

[mothiir]

the hand that feeds

So I’m really sorry to the anon who inspired this for two reasons: one for deleting your ask accidentally, and two for taking “leman russ puts the reader in a collar” in a direction you did not mean.

cw: violence against wolves, dubcon

—

—

Long ago, the people of Prospero were famed for their hunting dogs — great rangy animals designed to run on the burning sands for days, tireless in the face of famine and thirst, tracking down long-extinct beasts. Later, as the people discovered farming, the hunting dogs became livestock guardians instead; their limbs thickened over generations, but their teeth remained sharp, and their eyes keen. Later still, when hardship was but a tale to tell children, you were born, a squirming red bitch, the only living pup of a litter of four. Your mother was the beloved pet of a sorcerer named Ahriman, and it was he who gave you to his father, and his father who gifted you to his lover as a birthday gift. “Her name,” said the wizard’s father; a one-eyed man you would later know as Master, “is Hathor. After an ancient farming goddess.”

Hathor is your name, but your mistress calls you all sorts of things — sweetie pie, darling, fluffikins. She feeds you treats from her table, and sleeps with you pressed to her breast, even when you are larger enough to lick her face when you stand on your hind legs. In a throwback to your fierce ancestors — or perhaps as a result of your indulgent diet — you grow larger than your mother, larger than your father; a red-furred hound that glitters with jewellery, the only discomfort you know is when Mistress puts you outside of her room so that Master and her can try to make a pup. They try often, and enthusiastically, but have yet to manage it.

All that is to say that you live a coddled, cosy life — and then one day you wake, and the entire world is burning. Black ships blot out the sun; great palaces crumble under the assault of shining lights. All is chaos and screaming, fear-stink and blood-stink and Mistress calling for her mate, over and over. She calls for him as her armoured guard herd her deeper into the palace, to shelter; she calls for him as the park you used to run in explodes in a shower of black dirt and blue-red flame.

She calls for him as she is shut away into a small guard room that smells all wrong, and once inside she calls for him one last time, a weak guttering sob into your fur. You do not know how to tell her what you instinctively know to be true: that Master is Master no longer. You can only lick the salt from her cheeks and whine, switching fretfully from foot to foot.

Your ancestors were livestock guardians once, and hunters before that, and their blood runs in your veins, even if you have never raced along the golden flank of the dunes, eyes fixed on distant prey. You have never prowled the edge of a night-dark field, sheep bleating at your back, watching for the hungry eyes of would-be monsters.

But you remember. You remember.

The four-legged wolves sniff you out; the two-legged ones open up the door. Thick black smoke billows into your hiding place from behind them. The palace is burning. It is all burning. But you do not think of that, because the palace is not — was never — your home.

You do not know that the goddess Hathor was a goddess of war before she hammered her sword into a scythe; you do not know the irony in your name.

You only know that there are wolves, and behind you is your flock.

The four-leg wolf enters first in a hairy fetid spill. He is larger than you, but you surprise him, dropping your shoulder to hit his legs with your full body weight, bowling him off his feet. He was not expecting a fight, and it is his arrogance that costs him his life. Your teeth find the soft flesh of his throat before he can so much as whimper, and crush down.

Blood froths between your teeth and paints your front as you wheel to face his mate; your hackles up, your body bristling. But the she-wolf never attacks; instead, the coward retreats, whining at the loss of her companion.

The two-leg wolf enters instead: larger than most, stinking of battle. His yellow fur is matted with blood and ash. He shows his teeth in a clear threat, and says something in the two-leg tongue, addressing your Mistress. You know a few words — “Easy…girl…” — and these normally mean an attempt at peace-making, but then he reaches for her, with those great hairless paws.

What other choice do you have, but to lunge forwards, and to bite?

—

—

“I am not going to kill your mistress,” says the two-leg wolf, a while later. A new leather collar has replaced your former gem-encrusted one, and you feel vaguely guilty — insofar as a dog can feel guilt — that the leather is more comfortable against your flesh than the gold ever was. “She’s not a witch like Magnus, and she came along quietly enough. We’re just going to keep hold of her to make sure he behaves.”

You huff, and paw at the muzzle around your snout. Unlike the collar, you resent this new hardware mightily. The two-leg wolf chuckles.

“Oh, don’t sulk over that. You have to wear it. You bit me, you vicious bitch.”

He waves his hand in front of you. Much to your displeasure, the wound your fangs left healed almost instantly, clean flesh sealing over the raw red tissue.

“You’re one of a very lucky few to say that they have drawn blood from me and lived!”

He guffaws again. You hate the sound of his laughter; it reminds you of a wolf choking on a bit of meat.

He ruffles your nape. You try and snap at his fingers, knowing you cannot bite them, but wanting him to know how desperately you want to.

“Easy there. Magnus’s girls really don’t like me, do they? You. Your mistress. She almost bit my ear off when I tucked her into her quarters.”

Magnus is not Master, you snap.

“Ah. Of course. A pack leader who cannot defend his pack is no leader at all.”

You understand? you say.

“Of course I understand! Dogs, wolves — you all speak the same tongue. I was raised by wolves.”

Can tell, you say. 

Again: that ugly, ugly laugh. 

“You’re a vicious little thing. I like you.”

He takes a sip from the foul-smelling tankard held loosely in his left hand.

”I was going to bring you over to her. You can share the same rooms. Would you like that?”

Your ears prick up despite yourself. See your Mistress? There is nothing you would like more. 

“You must wear that muzzle. I don’t want to kill you, but if you draw blood on me a second time I will not hesitate to do so.”

—

—

The wolves have at least made an adequate den for Mistress, with a big bed bedecked with skins, and a roaring fire. The smell of smoke reminds you of the burning city, and the battle that still haunts your dreams — what if the wolf had been stronger, what if, what if — but you swallow down your fear and nestle close to her. She pats your ears, and hugs you close. Her eyes are red-rimmed and it is clear she has cried herself empty. The sour reek of her despair is worse than the smoke. The thick, rancid smell of despair; of a heart wrung dry. 

But she is like you: born and reared on Prospero’s ochre sands — not like once-called Master, who tumbled from the stars, and belonged neither there nor anywhere else. She is a survivor, the child of famine and destitution; her grandmothers survived warlords and raiders and worse. 

As you lie in paw-twitching slumber, you hunt wolves, chasing them down and tearing throats loose from shaggy grey fur. You wake with the taste of iron on your tongue, and the hum of exertion in your limbs. And she dreams as well — of other things, of wolves with human forms, of the stories told around campfires, and the things women do to survive. “You’re my family,” she says to you, often. “The only family I have left.”

—

—

The two leg wolf’s name, you have learned, is Leman Russ, and he is the ruler of these wolves, and of more besides; a pack large enough to span the stars. You are not impressed by such vague numbers. He still tries to bribe you with chicken legs, despite you steadfastly refusing to eat a single thing he offers you. 

But he is strong, and steadfast, and ruler here, and you are not surprised when Mistress invites him to her furs. Wolves, humans, dogs: all are lost without the protection of a pack, and Magnus is long gone, lost in the ashes of Prospero. Russ is here, and when he clambers atop your mistress you avert your eyes. He does not bother to lock you outside, as Magnus would have done, but you still feel it is impolite to watch. 

It takes him a while to satisfy himself. Hours pass, and eventually you fall asleep to the sound of the headboard banging against the wall, and Russ’s groaning and effusive praise about your Mistress’s nether regions. 

Honestly. Wolves. 

When you wake, it is to Russ fiddling with the lock on your muzzle. 

“There,” he says, easing it away from your snout. The firelight gleams on his fangs. “I think I can trust you not to bite now, eh? You’re a clever girl.”

He is talking to you. He is talking to your mistress, who lies in the furs, dozing.

When he offers you his hand, you very gently lick his palm. 

[nightscythe]

primarchs' obscure fetishes/kinks

as in random, not so talked about fetishes they may have. trying to improve my smut writing skills cause it's not my forte. i was trying to research some of these to make them better and i read some like. dirty shit. fucking loved it mate. i learnt new words and all.

would happily do a shitpost version btw, or more "taboo" vers.

very nsfw, 18+ below the cut. based on pre-heresy. i've tried to make each one as gender neural as possible.

tw for some of these, especially somnophilia and hypnosis. i have made them as consensual as i can. angron's one is reader unaware. it says at the start what the fetish/kink is, if you're not into it, don't read it, that's all i can say. enjoy otherwise!

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the lion: somnophilia. his jaw is clenched. every part of him ached. he'd not been sure why he came here, he should have been preparing, planning, but he couldn't get you off his mind. and now he as here, and you lay peacefully before him, his body only yearned harder. remembering the way you reached for him that morning, how he pulled himself away from you for duty, and regretted each moment since. each part of his armour is discarded, his trousers hastily unlaced as he kneels beside you, gently caressing your thighs, not wanting to disturb you too much. he leans over you, nearly each part of you touching, and presses a soft kiss to your neck, then your jaw, and whispers your name. his fingers twist into the sheets as the softest whimper leaves your lips. i'm back, my love, he tells you, let me take care of you now. when he thinks you’re not listening, that’s when he shows his caring side. 

fulgrim: vicarphilia. you're sat beside him, deep in conversation that you'd drifted in and out of. but then you hear it. really? do tell us more, as his fingers wrap around your wrist. you steal a glance his way, but his fixation on his guests doesn't change. they share an intricate story of debauchery, their narration not missing a single detail. as the story goes on, he finally looks your way, the sweetest of smiles on his lip, a silent ask as he grips your hand a little tighter. a polite excuse is given before he leans down to you, a murmur that you should have expected, every single thing they did, his voice pauses for a moment as that regal smile falls back onto his lips, i'm going to do to you tonight. he makes sure his guests never miss a single detail. every single touch, every single denial. his eyes get darker with each admission. he’d not explain why it makes him feel this way, maybe it is the thought of you in those positions, or maybe its just the thought of the sex itself. either way, he’s not missing a single detail. 

perty: kinbaku. he'd stood and admired his work. you were perfectly presented, restricted, artistically refined with beautifully intricate rope tied in all the right places to ensure you couldn't move without his help. he circles you, fingers ghosting your skin, each of your nerves sparking as he disappears from view. you're on your front, hands are behind your back, thighs and hips suspended from above. you can feel his touch drag across your thighs, the rope not too tight, but enough to feel everything, and when he takes his hand away, a soft gasp leaves your lips. don't move, his voice commands, and though you feel your thighs tighten in response, you keep still for what seems like minutes. when you feel him again, its a challenge. he dares you to go against him as he finds your most delicate areas. as long as you endure, he'll give you everything you want. good pet. 

khan: acarophilia. he used to tell you he loved it when you were on top. he loved seeing you that way, admiring you, watching you take charge. but recently, he'd always wanted you to be beneath him, writhing with his every touch, unable to form a coherent sentence as he filled you up. you thought it was a dominance thing, seeing you so small compared to him, but then it clicked. his hands hold you steady as you straddle his thigh, his leg bouncing, your face buried in his shoulder. as he rocks you back and forth, almost naturally in a way, your fingers clasp onto any part of him that's nearby, your nails digging into his skin. as you begin to lose yourself, you grip falters, your nails dragging over his skin, and you hear him practically growl. again, he dares you, mark me as yours, little one.

leman: odaxelagnia. he smothers you. he holds your hands above your head with one hand, he holds your body down with the other. he lives off each of your cries, the sweet sounds leaving your lips urging him to continue. and though you were both clothed, you could feel all of him, how his cock throbbed for more, but he held himself back. he was preoccupied, crafting a masterpiece of purples and blues on your neck, shoulder, and collarbone. he only stops to look up at you, searching for approval, then sinking his teeth into your skin one more time. you beg him, over and over and over, but he takes his time. only when he's satisfied does he stop rutting his hips towards you, finally giving you what you really wanted, knowing that next time his canvas would be the soft skin of your untouched thighs. 

dorn: joi. he didn’t want to rush. he wanted every single second of this moment of sin to stay with him forever. you’re sat across from him as he kneels on the floor, thighs spread, hand wrapped around his aching cock. you’d told him exactly where to be, how to sit, what you wanted him to do. he’d played the voice recording over and over to make sure he followed your instructions perfectly. faster, your voice calls to him, imagine its me. his hips stutter, sigh falling from his lips as he tries so hard to be composed. you’re not with him, yet he listens to you, even if he doesn’t want to. he wants you to be proud of him for following every instruction. he wished you were watching him to see how good he was and reward him with the mouth he loved so much. 

curze: psychrocism. he’s behind you, arms wrapped around your body. from above, the freezing water walls over you both - you’re still not accustomed to the temperature, your body squirms from each drop. the way your nipples peak from the stimulation, how you push your body into his to seek the smallest bit of warmth from him. his cock twitches against your skin, but he resists for a little longer. he presses his lips to your neck, his touch softer than usual, as his rough hands reach over your stomach, waist, hips; anywhere he could reach. seeing you shiver beneath him, he can’t explain what it does to him. but there’s a reason he always brings you back here, knowing he’ll fuck you against the wall under the freezing water when he’s done watching you whine for his warmth. 

sanguinius: pecattiphilia. no one would believe you if you said anything. no one would dare to think their pure and noble angel was capable of such acts. yet he knelt before you, on his knees, mouth occupied with pleasuring you with those perfect lips and masterful tongue. there was nothing pure about it, and he knew it. as your fingers twist into his hair, holding him down, telling him how good he is as he gets you off, he can’t help but think how others would react if they knew this side of him. submissive, yearning for touch, desperate for more. he fights back against your hands to look up to you, asking so politely, please can i have more. this side of him was for you, and you alone. but the thought of someone else knowing, that someone could walk in on him right now and see the truth… it drove him crazy. 

ferrus: technophilia. he had refined you. he’d removed every part of you that made you weak, and changed you into the embodiment of perfection. made you flawless. he had even impressed himself with his tiny adjustments, tweaking colours and minor wiring and other bits that wouldn’t have even crossed anyone else’s mind. he’d made you perfect for him. he’d sat back, leaning against the wall, looking down at your hands that wrapped around his cock, stroking him in the exact way he needed, watching him with an eye innate desire to learn precisely what it was that pleased him. and as he finally got his thick cock inside you, he’d know you could take more, he made you just for him. don’t make me repeat myself, he’d tell you, knowing you’d relax and let him take you. the smile that rests on his lips is intoxicating, and his fingers grip your chin to make you look directly at him as he speaks. good. obey me. 

angron: auralism. he’d be ashamed to admit to anyone just what he did. they’d think him weak for not approaching you. he could have as much of you as he wanted, yet here he was, stood on the other side of a wall that was far too thin, palming himself as he hears you. he’d discovered it by accident one day, but the second he heard a whimper leave your lips, he stayed. and he became obsessed. he had no idea what you were doing on the other side, but it didn’t matter to him. the way you moan, unaware anyone could hear you, whimper at presumably your own touch. it’s all he needs. maybe one day he’d let himself in, show you what attraction you’d gained without knowing, but for now he’d keep it his secret that he got off to just hearing you. 

rob: endytophilia. he remembers when it started. how his gaze followed you all day, how his heart had raced as you got closer to him. his hands showed you just how desperate he was. he turned you around, pushed you against the wall, his clothed bulge pressed firmly into you. he presses a kiss to your jaw, hands roaming over your body, fascinated by how it feels under your clothes. the way you said his name made him growl. don’t move, he whispers, lips ghosting over your ear as he rolls his hips into you, you don’t leave until i say, my love. there was no time for him to find a more suitable place, to even undress you. he slides his hand into your underwear to please you, pushing it to the side to have his way with you after. he didn’t anticipate enjoying it as much as he did. now he has you dress in sweet clothes that he touches you through, pushes aside, and admires afterwards. 

morty: chastity. he’d been obsessed with your purity since he met you. how you were so different to everyone else he knew, how you spoke to him with such grace, how your touches were meant to be everything but sexual. but his wicked mind, it made everything into more. and now he can’t get the thought out of his head. at first it was just having you look pure, wear white, such a stark contrast to him, but then he had handed you the cute-looking leather and metal belt. my little fawn, would you wear it for me? his cock twitched at the thought of you coming to him, begging him to take it off because you wanted to touch yourself. knowing he had that kind of control, that you willingly let him take control over your purity? it was only for him. if you wanted to touch yourself, he’d be there to witness it all. every single time. 

magnus: hypnosis. it came naturally to him, letting his mind overtake your own, tell you how to feel, when to feel it, all at his mercy. he’d asked you to let him try something, to see if he could get you off without touching you. so there he sat across the room from you, nothing more than his words causing you to feel an intense ache. he’d tilt his head, curiously watching as your hands twist into the sheets and your body contorts as his words fill your mind. does it feel good, imagining my mouth all over you? his smile only deepens as you rock your hips. maybe he’d taken it a step further and used his powers to make you feel it too, he couldn’t deny you that much. my heart, do you know how much i want a taste? his breathing is heavy where he sits, his cock hard from how little of him it takes to have you squirm. even worse, when he knows you’re close to your high, he’d stop without warning, teasing you with the real thing. 

horus: narratophilia. he’s not an exhibitionist. the thought of someone else seeing what’s his? knowing your beauty in the way he does? never happening. but maybe its close. he’s sat beside you, a possessive hand splayed across your thigh, his grip light yet his fingertips still press into your skin to remind you he’s there. he’d smile like he was paying attention to whoever is speaking, but really, he’s planning. imagining. he leans to you, close enough that no one would be able to lip read, but maybe the words he says will carry in the slight breeze. if i had my way, you’d be on my lap right now, and i’d be fucking your tight little hole, his words are accompanied but nothing more than his grip on your thigh tightening. he shifts in his seat, so he’s as close to you as he could possibly be. forty minutes left. he can explain it all in detail. try to keep still, sweetheart. we wouldn’t want others knowing how hearing what i’ll do to you works you up. smug bastard makes it out like he’s not the one edging himself. 

lorgar: zelophilia. his heart rate is through the roof. his breaths are heavy. his hands grip onto the stone wall before him as he watches, knowing he’s powerless to it all. he could kill the man who had his hand on you without thinking, but then he’d no longer feel the ache through his body that grew the fire in the pit of his stomach. he reached his hand down, softly caressing himself through his clothes, eyes never leaving yours. when you finally catch his gaze, he has to stop himself from responding. anyone who looked closely would have noticed the way his eyes begged. and as you lean into the stranger's touch and let them touch what is his, not once breaking eye contact, he digs his thumb into his tip and starts to get himself off. he doesn’t care for anyone else. he just needs the agony of seeing someone with you to remind him that he couldn’t function without you. having you play along too? know exactly what your smile at another does? then go back to him and let him serve and devote himself to you? that is the euphoria he lives for. 

vulkan: lingophilia. he’s a caregiver. he wants to worship you, love you, support you like no other. and what better way to worship than his mouth? he hadn’t thought much of it at first, it was normal to love with every part of him. but something was different. feeling you in his mouth, tasting you, lapping his tongue whether makes you feel best. lay back for me, beloved, he’d say, his larger hands guiding you to a throne of pillows he’d built for you himself, you are meant to be cherished. he’s slow. devoted. relentless in his pursuit of adoring you beyond the realm of any other. he’d have you come multiple times, never expecting anything in return, just wanting to see you writhe from his mouth alone. but it doesn’t stop there. even when he’s buried deep inside you, length covered in your own release, he has his mouth around your nipple, or tracing kisses on your neck, or even finally stealing a kiss from your own lips for once. 

corax: hypoxyphilia. he had his hand around your throat. he’d been hesitant at first to do it, knowing how fragile you were. but when you’d been so eager to feel it, to be completely at his mercy, there was no going back. he’d imagined you’d be a whimpering mess in his arms, but this was different. you were on his lap, back against his chest, completely naked and at his mercy. his fingers gripped your neck tighter, knowing he could still go further without hurting you. his cock throbbed against his thigh as he fucked you with two fingers, working you open. your pretty little hands curled around his wrist and bicep, not wanting him to stop, but wanting to feel more. you like this more than you thought, right little dove? he chuckles to himself as he adds another finger, tightening his grip one more time. should i choke you whilst i fuck you too? he’s not lasting long when he does, if he even makes it that far. 

alpharius: sensory deprivation. it was just a pretty piece of baby blue silk he’d held in his hands, but it meant so much more. he’d been gentle as he tied it over your eyes, reassuring you, you don’t need to see. then you’d felt something slip over your ears, with his words whispered just before he left you with little more, just feel, angel, be good for me. no predictions, no warning – just trust in him. he’d take his time. he’d leave a lingering touch on your inner thigh, but then he’d be tracing your collarbone. his mouth, so warm and inviting, would be on yours, then it’d be tracing somewhere more intimate. he’s right there, touching you, making you feel pleasure like you haven’t before, and then he’s just… not. he can watch from the other side as your press your thighs together and shift on the bed, searching for him. but he’s in control. he decides when you feel good, when you can react, when you finally break. he’d be sitting across from you getting himself off just at the thought.

these are pretty tame. i will do a more taboo version if wanted, i have some ideas but not sure how they will be taken.

anyone want like.. a mournival version, or a night lords brooding pile version. i've got ideas...

[moodymisty]

Would you be comfortable writing some courting headcanons for the primarchs?? Thank you!!

Author's note: Here you go, they're sort of random but I hope you enjoy them.

Warnings: Fem!Reader for some like Lion’el because of words like Legion Mother, A few very slightly lewd remarks

Fulgrim:

The primarch who out of all has most devoted himself to things like the arts is nothing short of overwhelming, when he first expressed his desire for you. Flowers, paintings, clothing, food, whatever it is you enjoy, all of it gets gifted to you with no small amount of theatrics. Though thankfully, Fulgrim knows when to turn it down a bit, and you can enjoy his company. Even then however he is still very intense, kisses on the hand, the lips, and gentle caresses abound as he woos you with his silver tongue. His legion is also one of the few who at the start know about Fulgrim's intentions, and actually takes it decently well. Far better than other legions, when finding out their Primarch is indulging in romance. You are the socialite, the shining star in a room and the talk of everyone there, and Fulgrim will have it no other way. But as much as he does all this, he finds it cute if you’re shy or nervous about it. Shyness isn’t in his dna, so he finds it very adorable. You often get purfumed, hand written letters when he is away. Fulgrim has quite the way with words, and many of them you’re glad the one who reads them are him and you.

Perturabo:

He might be a petulant manchild at times, but when the mood strikes him Perturabo can be a bit softer. It helps that you're one of the few people he trusts, now that the two of you are so close. Though it may often be more trouble than it's worth, with how often his mood changes. Perturabo can go from lavishing you with Olympian clothes to sulking in his workshop for hours if not days, leaving you to eventually wander down there and find him, and bring him out of his petulant sulk. A gentle hand on his own, asking if he can explain to you what he’s working on tends to help. Perturabo also becomes very possessive of you, not long after he starts courting you. If Dorn, Sanguinius or Lorgar so much as look at you the wrong way, he's more than ready for a fight. He has one person in his life who hasn’t wronged him, who actually respects him, and he isn’t losing that. Those softer moments with him as he speaks of his plans for amphitheaters and bathhouses while you lay in his arms are worth it, however.

Lion’el Jonson:

Lion'el is, complicated. Part of him wonders how he even got here, something as frivolous as romance was never a significant part of his mind. But here he is. He can’t complain, as he’s become so used to you now that often times, his nose wrinkles anytime he’s away and casts sight on an empty bed. He doesn’t say anything about it, however. Part of him laments he isn't able to give you rides on horseback, as he's far outgrown the horses he rode in his younger years. Though he can walk beside you, even if his men think it's demeaning of his position. Is painfully blunt about some things, and extremely obtuse about others. He wishes to marry you? Blunt. You get a military parade dedicated to showing the galaxy the Dark Angels new Legion Mother with no warning. He wishes for you to wear the colors of his legion and match him so when you arrive on Terra everyone knows who you are with? Vague and obtuse, he will grunt about every option until you choose the one he likes.

Rogal Dorn:

As with all parts of his life, he's extremely stoic and at first, you don't think anything's changed. He's the type that listens to the things you talk about, and silently gives them to you. For instance as a newcomer to Inwit it's incredibly cold, but your current dress just doesn't cut it for the harsh wind and un-acclimated body. You find a new one on your bed three days later made perfect and exactly how you like it, but Dorn says nothing about it. Those few late night moments alone when he brings you into his office, and you sit at his desk while he works are some of his favorite. Dorn gets to feel you safe in his arms, and while he’ll never say it out loud, he is overwhelmed in his love for you. Does not tell any of his fellow primarchs about you. The day they realize Dorn has a beloved is a stressful one, they’re all sneaking around trying to get information about you, and Dorn almost has to lock you in his quarters and shoo them all away. Is surprising talkative in written word. His letters or anything else tend to be very long, talking about the ins and outs of his legion, and their current progress. You’ve never heard him talk half that much in person, it’s sweet. Though once in a while those letters can get a bit salacious; And Dorn is nothing if not detailed.

Leman Russ:

This man's declaration that he wanted to court you was as brash and blunt as he is. You're pretty sure he was half way into sleeping with how drunk he was at the time, a massive hand on your shoulder as he smiles with a red face. Granted when he sobered up he was far more, romantic about it. By his standards. He still stunk of mjød, but at least he held your hand. From that moment on however Russ isn't a man shy of showing off, and wastes no opportunity to plop you in his lap and give you a kiss, pick you up off the ground, or say something far too inappropriate for the current locale. Whether it's day two or day two hundred, he finds keeping himself off of you too much trouble. He’s the type to make others turn away with how overt his affection is. Every one of his kisses and hugs feel like he’s treating it as the last one he’ll ever do. Loves when you comb and braid his hair. It takes awhile and he has no patience for it, but he enjoys when you do it.

Ferrus Manus:

As a recurring theme with all of these, Ferrus finds it a bit hard to show how he feels. While he has moments where he cracks a smile, often times he’s largely stoic. As such, he never really asked you to be with him, it was something that simply progressed overtime. He doesn’t invite you into his quarters and his bed if you aren’t his beloved, he assumes it wouldn’t take a genius to figure that out. Late night workshop time is a must. Ferrus can spend days in there with no issue, and oftentimes you have to come and climb into his lap if you want any time with him at all. He doesn’t mind as as long as you’re quiet; Though over time he’s begun to enjoy explaining his plans to you if you aren’t asleep. If you are asleep, sometimes he gets a bit emotional and talks or thinks to himself. He never thought he’d have someone like you when he lived on Medusa, he just needed to survive. Is actually somewhat hesitant when you first are together. Ferrus is well aware of his size (both out and in the bedroom, or any other local where he deems sex a daring and intriguing idea), and often tries to be quite gentle. It took a bit of coaxing to finally treat you like you weren’t made of glass. You get surprise gifts from Fulgrim at times. Some are sweet; Some are… They’re hidden until Ferrus returns from where ever he’s currently away to at the time and you can surprise him.

Horus:

The same as Fulgrim; Excessive and grandiose, but unlike Fulgrim, there's a tad more subtlety to it. But only a tad. Horus still is eager to show off the love of his life (and so much more that he’s kept just in his head shh), but he’s aware that sometimes you require a bit more subtlety. For a primarch, he’s quite the romantic. Though there’s only so much you can do when you have thousands of gene-sons waiting on orders and don’t exactly get why their primarch is holding your tiny hand and helping you walk down the thunderhawk’s ramp. You can do it yourself, they think. He can also be quite a bit grandiose in the theoretical sense. Horus seems to have your entire future together planned, and he’ll speak it to you during very late nights with stars in his eyes. To marry you, to bring you into his legion as the mother of his gene-sons, to give you your own child one day. He’s more than a bit overwhelming, but it helps he’s so charismatic.

Angron:

I... I hope you're patient. Angron isn’t one that is fond of things like romance. For multiple reasons. One being that it brings him pain because of the Nails, and the other being that in many ways, he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. He’s a slave, he’s a monster, he’s a man who failed his people, men like him don’t get to have someone like you. But you stay anyways despite the fear of him loosing control of the Nails, and eventually Angron supposes that there’s more annoying people to have around. He’s far more applicable to this in his early days. The Nails haven’t degraded his mental state yet, and his legion is still fresh faced and eager to prove their worth. If Angron accepts you, they will as well then. The downside is that many of the primarchs worry about Angron’s relationship and subsequent attachment to you, and the danger it brings. Some for your safety, but mostly for the fact that now that Angron is so deeply attached, if something were to happen to you it would well be within the possibility that Angron would completely loose control of the Nails, and become an unstoppable threat that would have to be put down. On the other hand, it seems that you can calm him down a bit, as much as the Nails will allow, something that not many are able to do. A double edged sword, your love is to him. Often times you have to restrain him during anything, strenuous. It’s for your own safety, though it seems like Angron doesn’t hate it either.

Roboute Guilliman:

The most traditional out of them all. He follows the 'rules' so strictly you have wonder if he's following some sort of manuscript. Your relationship progresses at a very methodical pace, which is a bit odd but you find it oddly sweet he puts so much thought into it. He does little more than hold your hand, kisses and anything heavier are strictly private; If it wasn't for the longing, puppy dog look in his eyes, no one would guess you two were anything more. He's not overt about it like Horus or Fulgrim, but you are still absolutely smothered in gifts. From jewelry to clothing to weird purfumes he's been gifted by high lords attempting to earn his favor through you (Guilliman has made it very obvious that he's not the type to be swayed by gifts but they hope you are and will put in a good word with your beloved), you quickly find yourself constantly or the receiving end of some sort of lavish gift. Roboute is very much in love, it's just hard for him to admit it. As you come to understand his own little love language is the day he's a very happy man. On a bonus note: It is very easy to get this man to completely melt for you. If it’s been a stressful time for him and he’s stressed, giving him a bit of a hand will make him a bit bashful, but overwhelmingly thankful.

Sanguinus:

As kind as he is beautiful, Sanguinius is one of the more heartfelt ones around. Romance abound, the angel and you are the textbook example of star crossed lovers the moment he proposes courtship to you. It almost makes some of the primarchs jealous at how incredibly perfect your love for each other is, like your feet don’t touch the ground He loves to pick you up and give you a hug or a kiss, wrapping you in his wings. He always says it's just so you feel safer, but he also likes the bit of privacy, hiding you from the worlds in his arms. You also enjoy playing with his wings when you’re in private, as they’re quite sensitive. A side note; He thinks it's cute that you use his fallen feathers as bookmarks and quills, and he now gifts you a few of his fallen primary feathers every now and again for you to use. You’ll know about the Red Thirst eventually when you’re with him. Sanguinius won’t ever ask for assistance, but if you were to offer a bit of blood? He’s incredibly careful, but the blood of his lover is nothing short of ambrosia and he will dutifully treat you afterward for sating his appetite.

Jaghatai Khan:

As one of the more reasonable primarchs, Jaghatai is a steal to have as your lover. He’s personable and kind, and funny to boot. He enjoys making you laugh, something his sons have picked up on. Sometimes they’ll tease you (or more likely unsuspecting commissars) when you’re in their company. If he's not able to hold your hand, he'll have a hand on your shoulder or back, always close to you whenever you're both together. He’s extremely dedicated to Chogoris, and it’s incredibly important to him that you adopt some of the culture he grew up in. You don’t have to, but it would make Jagahatai an extremely proud man if you attempted to understand Chogoran. He’s also private; His fellow primarchs don’t even know of your existence let alone close relation to him until you’re well into your romance, and Jaghatai has thoughts for no one else but you.

Konrad Curze:

Konrad’s romance is as toxic as he is. But at the same time, it’s like a drug you can’t get enough of. Because you’re fucking terrified of him, but the man is obsessed with you. Not many of the other primarchs understand the soul crushing, teeth grinding obsession Konrad has for you. He’s willing to fall to his knees and submit to you as long as you tell him you love him, and that he's worth more alive. But if you tell him you don’t?… You don’t want to tell him you don’t. Konrad is painful. He holds your hand too tight, kisses you too rough, bites you too hard. He doesn’t mean it, you don’t think at least some of the time, but he’s so caught in this obsession with someone trying to save him that his martyr complex melts away for a bit and he’s this self-loathing, sad excuse of a man. You almost pity him as much as you love him. Making him happy has become an arduous journey for you. Is the exact opposite of the others in wanting to show you off. You’re hidden for ages, until the primarchs realize Konrad has someone at his side. They worry, but they know separating him from you would cause more harm than good, and you keep Konrad’s emotions a bit more in check. And in the eyes of a few individuals, your safety serves as a good threat to keep Konrad and his unhinged legion on a leash and working towards a desired goal. A note; Konrad is surprisingly selfless in regard to more intimate matters. And he likes to bite. Your thighs don’t get much reprieve from him.

Vulkan:

Sweet as sugar, no one is as good at a proper declaration of love or desire to romance like Vulkan is. No matter how much it breaks his back he’ll always hold your hand, give you a kiss, or pick you up to bring you with him across the Flamewrought or the Terran palace. Besides perhaps Sanguinius and Lorgar, no one is as star-crossed in love with you as Vulkan is.

He’ll do anything for you, if you just ask. He often paraphrases that he would shield you from any threat, but sometimes you fear he’d do it literally. Less seriously he loves to gift you various things, your favorite being a necklace. You never thought he’d be able to work at such a small level, but Vulkan is nothing if not skilled. He got quite the reward the evening he gifted it to you.

Is one of the quicker ones to get serious. Talks of marrying you, writing you down in the history of his legion as their Legion Mother, Vulkan is quite eager to tie himself to you, and you to him.

Corvus Corax:

Corvus is private, and also quite slow to trust. Even slower to admit he likes someone, let alone enough to express that he’s in love with them. Many moments with him are often spent in his private quarters or somewhere else alone, where only you have eyes on him.

Is one of the few primarchs conscious of the fact that he isn’t really meant to exist, and that he’s forcing it by being with you. Your body often bruises and aches if he isn’t careful with you, and it secretly pains him that the one person he loves is so easy for him to hurt. Finding out about this feeling he has swiftly turns you into a mess of reassurances that quickly overwhelm poor Corvus, and while he still feels it at times, he appreciate you trying to soothe him.

Loves to write you letters. He feels like it means more to put the effort into handwriting, and when you send him one back, it’s like he can feel your touch on the paper. One time you left a lipstick kiss on the parchment and the man was insufferable that evening from how pent up he was, unbeknownst to you millions of miles away. You paid for that transgression dearly one he returned.

Lorgar Aurelian:

Lorgar is yet another primarch who is sweet as sugar. He also has quite the way with words, though unlike Horus and Fulgrim, it isn’t intentional. He’s just very passionate and verbose. Is also very touchy. Loves to pick you up and kiss you, show you off to others. He’s so stupidly in love and everyone around him is almost annoyed by it. He just loves his tiny little goddess so much, you bring him light he didn’t know he needed. Lorgar is also very affected by his religious trauma. His self flagellation both emotional and literal has always been an issue. You’ve had nights where you’ve put ice on his back after he whipped himself bloody, crying over his wounds. If it isn’t bad he encourages you to not weep over him, and if it’s worse he often times is beating himself up over worrying you. Being with him is stressful emotionally, to say the least. In another path, he often time beats himself up over the idea of corrupting you with sinful thoughts. Though that doesn’t really stop him, especially if he comes to his quarters one evening seeing you wearing all white draped across his bed. Lorgar will sin alright, but he does it while speaking prayers to save his own soul as he worships you. He’s one of the quickest Primarchs to want to marry you, to make you his own and to bring you closer and closer to his side.

Mortarion:

Mortarion isn’t an easy one to love. He doesn’t really consider the emotion valuable until one day he suddenly realizes that you mean something to him, more than just another baseline human does. Like Ferrus in that he never does the official courtship nonsense, and just upgrades your relationship in his head overtime. Someone who isn’t his lover doesn’t spend hours in the Pale King’s study watching him work, keeping one of his hands in their lap while he uses the other. Is a bit of a pushover in some ways, and takes his self loathing a bit too far sometimes. You’ve learned that sometimes he needs you to kiss him and tell him you love him more than anything else, to get him to stop sulking. Everyone is extremely surprised he found sometime. Let alone someone so personable. Fulgrim jokes that Mortarion should just send you instead of himself to Terra when the primarchs meet up to discuss things, as you’re easier to deal with. Mortarion hates when things like that are said, and he’ll hide you from the world obsessively for awhile after. He loves you, but sometimes for him love and possess get intertwined in his head when he thinks for you.

Magnus the Red:

Isn’t the worst beloved to have, but he has his quirks. He can be a bit stuffy at times, and often times forgets that relationships needs nurturing to grow. Magnus often times gets stuck in his own head and forgets everyone around him, including you. Loves to show off his warp magic to you, especially if you show literally any interest at all. He’s so used to everyone fearing it, fearing him, hating psykers no matter what, that any interest by you gives him hearts in his eyes. You’ll be up all night listening to him read you tomes. Which you don’t mind, it often helps you fall asleep. Since Magnus can change his size, he knows exactly how to make your squirm. You know you’re in for a wild ride when your beloved becomes bigger than Ferrus and starts taking off his armor.

AlphariusOmegon:

The twins are complicated. Given the primarchs consider you only Alpharius’ beloved, you spend more time with him than Omegon. As such, sometimes Omegon can get a bit possessive whenever you two are together. You don’t entirely blame Omegon for it; His other half is the one holding your hand and showing you off, joking about marrying you to his fellow primarchs. As such, those topics tend to be a minefield in your weird little relationship. They often use you to get information about the other Primarchs. It seems your smaller stature makes them almost seem like you're less of a threat, and get a bit more talkative around you than they are around whatever twin is currently frontfacing. You hate when they ask this of you, but you have no power to refuse them. As the twins are extremely meticulous and through, they've been careful to not show anyone how in love with you they really are. If they how just how much Alpharius loves you, it would be easy for you to be used against them. So affection is limited, and they put up an aura that you're not much more than an arm piece when in view of others. They eagerly make sure to show you this isn't the case in private, however.

[toto-the-cactus]

Primarchs + Daughters

My perception of how each Primarch would behave when nosediving into parenthood if they had daughters. Enjoy!

I wanna personally thank @moodymisty because a great deal of their works inspired this piece.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Lion El’jonson

The embodiment of 'tough love' made man. Having a daughter doesn’t do much to soften this guy… or at least that’s what others believe. The Dark Angels Legion are probably the only ones aware of the small gestures the Primarch often gives to his little girl in the safety that privacy offers. Where Lion lacks words of compassionate and parental love, he appropriately makes up for it with actions. He isn’t one to go over the top and prefers to give modest gifts to his daughter as the last thing the man wants is to raise a spoiled brat. Father-daughter bonding time can be summarized with strenuous training using the sword. This man will not let his precious Princess go through life without learning how to protect herself, even if he has made an oath to forever shield her too.

Fulgrim

The complete antithesis of Lion. Where this man views the Emperor as the perfection anyone should strive to reach, his beautiful daughter comes close to the second place in fulfilling that ideal. There’s a big fat chance that he teared up a little when his little gem called him Papa for the first time, but managed to wear his ever unshakable mask because he absolutely refuses to break character even in private. Has the mistaken notion that his baby is a blank canvas ready to be painted to its fullest potential; aka, molding her to what HE wants and expects of her. Fulgrim probably spoils her rotten but only through conditions that she must follow, as the Primarch understands the importance of fighting and earning for what you wish to obtain. He makes sure that any of his gene-sons are in her company as he refuses to let even a single scratch happen to his little girl. Honestly, a grown-up version of Fulgrim’s child has the chances to go both opposites of the spectrum with no in betweens: A shy aristocratic lady who is unable to speak her own mind or a completely haughty, sharp and manipulative noble woman. Too much to unpack there, yo.

Perturabo

(Slaps this bastard's head loudly) This bad boy can fit so much family trauma in it! Okay no but seriously, there’s a good reason why so many people agree that this bitch has a thing for gilded cages and all the fucked up poetry that comes with it. The good ol’ classic Greek tragedy of Medea. Perturabo may have big and insane expectations for his gene-sons but when it comes to having a daughter? The apple of his eyes. The sunshine of his life. For this Primarch, his little princess is the only living thing in the entire universe that loves him genuinely and unconditionally, making his love the equivalent of a child crushing a bird between his hands. While still easy to anger and with a resting-bitch face, he is incredibly tame and careful with his girl; always making sure that she is well versed in all kinds of science and engineering that could easily label her as a genius (but we all know how stressful can be to try and live up to big expectations). Most of his Legion finds the child either an annoyance or don’t even care enough beyond the factual point of her being the child of their mighty Primarch, beyond that? This poor girl is probably the loneliest child to ever grace the world. Remember that I referred to this like the Tragedy of Medea? Yeah…

Jaghatai Khan

Probably one of the few best papa-tier out there. This man will see his little daughter and think the only thing a good parent should do: To love and guide. He’ll be not afraid to say “I love you” to his baby girl no matter where they are, but he’ll know when to be stern and wise so she grows to be a fine and humble woman. Honestly, this guy would learn how to make a sling just for the single purpose of having his precious princess close while also being excited to teach her how to ride on a horse like he did in his childhood. The thing that makes this dude the best in this list is that if his daughter ever expresses to follow a different path in life like becoming a remembrancer or anything that doesn’t involve the Imperium, this Chad of a man will look deep into her eyes and tell her that he’ll support her no matter what. The only thing he asks is that she stays in contact as he’ll miss her terribly. Kudos to him, fr.

Leman Russ

Another one for the ‘tough love’ guys list, yo! On his defense! Hear me out… in his defense, this guy was literally raised first by Fenrisian wolves before even knowing what a proper bath entailed, so of course he’ll sometimes be a bit too much on his poor little baby girl. Roughhousing was his best first approach to teach her how to fight, trying to make his little pup have some proper backbone worthy of being called the child of a Primarch. Sometimes he’ll get carried away (either with words or actions) and is in those moments when Leman would learn what genuine and heavy guilt feels like; a very alien emotion for someone as brutal and fierce as he is. There’s no worse feeling than knowing that you are the reason behind your daughter’s tears. No one would ever say it out loud, but the way this giant of a man apologizes is by slowly and silently hugging his little girl while pouting until she hugs him back. He may suck at expressing verbally his love towards his baby, but actions are his best way to communicate and this is something his daughter eventually learns and accepts from him. Forgot to add that the entire Space Wolves Legion are not only suffocatingly protective of their Primarch’s child, but everyone takes turns when she asks them for piggy-rides or let her braid their hair.

Rogal Dorn

I don’t wanna be too mean to this poor man but lord have some mercy, trying to squeeze any emotion that doesn’t range to watching paint dry from this damn guy is already a miracle on its own. He’s probably the kind of dude that’ll leave his poor daughter in the care of his astartes and serfs while he works. Workaholic in bold, yo. It literally will take watching his poor little princess cry her eyes out for him to attempt some bonding time but man he just sucks at trying not to have a stick up his ass (Again, I’m not trying to be mean but god this is painful). This is the kind of man, besides Guilliman, that will search high and low for some paternity books to help him. At the end this father-daughter relationship can be salvageable by having a heart to heart between them both and even then, is the poor girl the one that gives more than she receives. Honestly, any daughter from Dorn has the patience of a saint. Besides this Primarch's ineptitude to properly communicate his feelings, everything else doesn’t change the fact that he loves his little princess and will do anything to make her as happy as possible so he gets some brownie points for the try.

I'll later write the second and third part of this, I swear <333

[ms--lobotomy]

Maybe you celebrate Easter. Maybe you celebrate Trans Day of Visibility. Maybe you celebrate both, or neither. I am here to make those holidays infinitely worse or better, depending on how you look at this post. Special thanks to @squishyowl for giving me the parameters to calculate their (hard) schmeat sizes.

Without further adieu, Primarch cock descriptions. and also kind of how they fugg

LION EL'JONSON- 11 inches, 27 cm. Untrimmed and uncut. He shows a godly amount of restraint to you. Behind closed doors, he's much softer than he lets on. As far as girth goes, he's in the middle of the road... for a Primarch. He may not be the most experienced of his brothers, but he's going to do a thorough job anyways.

???- Dick fell off.

FULGRIM- 10 inches, 25 cm. Long and slender. You may expect a piercing, but he does not want to mar his natural appearance (at least before the Heresy.) Shaves religiously. He likes when his partner can't move, when they squirm underneath him, though he'll have a hard time admitting this.

PERTURABO- 7 inches, 18 cm. The smallest cock on the list, but he more than makes up for it while he is using it. He's got a bit of girth to him, but he can still fit in your mouth. Somewhat. His hands engulf your head as he pushes you down on him. Once he's out, tell him how good he feels.

JAGHATAI KHAN- 13 inches, 33 cm. The fastest one out of the Primarchs as far as each thrust goes. It curves up when erect, not unlike a scimitar. Veiny, but not strikingly so. Even though he's exceptionally fast, he likes being ridden. Especially on his bike.

LEMAN RUSS- 14 inches, 35 cm. He's uncut and hairy down there, he's never shaved his bush. He's also girthy. But what's most remarkable about him is his knot. This makes it hard for him not to breed his partners, where applicable. He'll hold you down and lock himself in on you, holding you down on him with his massive hands.

ROGAL DORN- 10 inches, 25 cm. He's circumcised and he keeps a clean shave. He's girthy, but not unbearably so. He enjoys tying up his partner and watching them melt as he goes down on them. Ever stoic, his expression rarely changes as he plows through you. Also a fan of doing it in his office.

KONRAD CURZE- 9 inches, 23 cm. Veiny, almost paper white, and uncut. He's not a gentle lover, especially considering his size. Usually there will be blood involved, and usually it is yours. He doesn't normally just use his cock; if he can reach you, he'll be biting you. And if not, he'll draw blood anyways.

SANGUINIUS- 8 inches, 20 cm. Surprisingly girthy, with low-hanging balls. He's uncut, but his bush is usually trimmed. He doesn't just use his cock, he bites where he can and envelopes you in his wings. He's gentle... for the first five minutes. He'll leave the most marks out of any of the Primarchs, prompting you to cover up the day after.

FERRUS MANUS- 17 inches, 43 cm. Lord have mercy. He is the most well-endowed Primarch, with balls to match. He'll hold you down with his cool silver hands as he pushes himself in. He's gentle, far more than he lets on, but he is still a Primarch. He's become quite the aftercare giver.

???- Penis serious, Penis delirious. Penis in the woods, call that penis mysterious

ANGRON- 9 inches, 23 cm. The arena had not been kind, as he is scarred in several places around it. Fortunately, no blade has ever found its way there. He isn't gentle, not one bit, even if he is chained down. The Nails eat at his head, screaming for bloodshed. He thrusts faster in a vain attempt to block out the agony in his head.

ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN- 8 inches, 20 cm, and girthy. Despite his size being closer to normal for a baseline human, it's harder to fit it in due to his circumference. With some lube and determination, though, you can make it work. He likes putting it in you and watching you try to keep your composure before you inevitably slip up.

MORTARION- 11 inches, 27 cm. It's long and gaunt on him, but it's still massive in your hand. He's one of the more sensitive Primarchs, but he'd prefer if that fact were kept under wraps. Gentle touch gets him going like nothing else. And once he gets going, you'll get to bear firsthand witness to the endurance he's known for.

MAGNUS THE RED- The bastard can change his dick size on a whim. He already knows what size would make you feel best, and he can open up more than one hole at once using the Warp. He doesn't even have to touch you to open you up, turning you into an incomprehensible mess in front of him.

HORUS LUPERCAL- 12 inches, 30 cm. The most striking thing about it is the Prince Albert that adorns it, a simple iron thing with a dull shine. Even if by some miracle you're on top, he'll always be the dominant partner, and if you have the ability you are most definitely bearing his children at some point.

LORGAR AURELIAN- 11 inches, 28 cm. You weren't expecting the second shortest Primarch to pack so much, were you? Golden tattoos come close to it, but he hadn't the will to cover himself there. You'll spend a lot of time with him; he'll use his tongue for hours on end before finally gratifying himself.

VULKAN- 10 inches, 26 cm. He's warm all over, and below the belt is no exception. In the cold reaches of space, he's a great comfort. Even if he's not the biggest of the Primarchs, he likes watching you struggle on him. He's girthy, and he likes to choke you with it too. Gives the best aftercare.

CORVUS CORAX- 11 inches, 27 cm. He's long, slender, and he keeps a close shave. He's a gentle lover when you're properly going at it and not hiding your risque behavior while in public. He'll hold your hands and whisper praises into your ear, even if he has to bend himself at an uncomfortable angle.

ALPHARIUS- 8 inches, 21 cm. He's hairless, circumcised, and his balls are almost unnaturally even. You've seen many an Alpha Legion cock, and they all look similar. He likes to finish in his partner, leaving no trace that he was there except for the slightly odd hobble you have the next day.