#leman russ/reader

[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. 

[druidwolf21]

As per the votes, here's some loving smut with everyone's fav space viking!

Leman Russ/F reader

Content warning-

sexual content

A bit of fluff

Homesickness

Saying I love you during sexy time???

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

Hope you like some sexy lovins

Words and meanings

Skitja- fenrisian curse

Volda Hamarrki- the mountain range of fenris

Skitnah-dirty/foul

Aett- clan hols/ heath fenrisian name for the fang

Stormurstjórn- stormcaller (I used this as a little pet name

Skíthof- another fenrisian curse

Gmorl-fate

The fire roared and blazed, spitting sparking embers across the marbled guard as you stared listlessly into the light. The book you had been reading hung limply from your hand as your eyes followed motes of flames dancing from one cindered log to another as it's warmth gently toasted your skin.

You allowed your eyes to wander from the embers to the room you sat in. Cold steel walls rising high above you, dispersed with woven tapestries of great battles and flickering oil torches. You sighed wistfully as your sight fell on a painting of a forest, trees frosted with diamond snow and silvered icicles, shadowy wolven figures dancing through the wood with amber eyes that seemed to glow.

You fisted the furs on the bed you had perched on as you threw the book aside and fell backwards, staring at the canopy above you, willing it to turn from soft cotton into the grey fenrisian sky. Squeezing your eyes shut and inhaling, you could almost smell the frozen sap, warm mjord and smelting iron that hung perpetually through the halls of the fang.

But home was a long way away and no matter how hard you willed it, upon opening your eyes, the dream of Asaheim faded into the distance. Your memory of warm meals and warmer company left a bitter taste in your mouth as you swept a hand across your face. Your thoughts were dragged back into the present by a wet nose against your thigh and a quiet whine.

Resigning yourself to your current situation, you drag yourself upright, smiling gently as you come face to face with golden eyes and a maw of teeth as long as Eldari daggers. Thick lines of spit coated each fang as the beast breathed heavily in your face before letting out another low whine.

You snorted and place a hand on the wolf's snout, playfully pushing it away.

""Skítja, fenki!" You curse "what have you been eating, your breath is worse than...well I don't know, but it's bad!"

You recoiled as your question got you a long, hot lick from your bare ankle to the top of your thigh. You hopped off the bed and rushed to an oaken dressing table, ripping a towel from a drawer and dragging it along your leg.

"you are so gross" you laugh lightly, dropping the towel and walking back over, pressing your face into warm fur and inhaling deeply.

"I guess you miss home too, huh?"

You nuzzled in deeper, wrapping your arms around the giant canine as far as you could, twisting your fingers through coarse fur and feeling the slow, steady rise and fall of it's chest.

"I promise, as soon as we can, we'll take you back home, back to Volda Hamarrki. Me, you, Russ and Geri, does that sound good?" You whispered, trying to stem tears before they fell

"we'll go back, away from this Skitnah ship, feel the snow under our feet again"

The tears flowed freely as you buried your face, gritting your teeth, willing them to stop as you fought to push the home sickness from your thoughts.

"Making plans for me, my little Stormurstjórn?"

You spun round, hair whipping around as you turned to face the owner of the deep voice that thrummed through you.

Lemans grin faltered as he saw your face, wet with tears, he threw down his thick cloak as he rushed over, dropping to a knee and cupping your face gently.

"my heart, what happened? why do you cry?" His face darkens and a snarl starts forming on his face, his hands and eyes gliding over you "did someone hurt you? If someone touched you I'll.."

You shake your head gently, looking into lemans icy blue eyes and smiling shyly.

"no my lord, I'm fine, just wishing for the comforts of home"

You see the tension leave your primarks body as he leans back slightly and your heart fluttered as his easy smile found his face again. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before pressing his forehead against yours.

"The Aett may be far, but you are here and that is home enough for me" he murmured, his voice as thick and sweet as honey mjord as he brushed the tears from your face.

You pulled away and pressed your hands to his cheeks, admiring the way the dying embers cast a warm glow across his face and down his neck. His eyes shone, almost reflective as the light flittered and sputtered.

A thick golden braid had fallen over his shoulder and You leant back in, running the hair through your fingers before pressed a kiss against his lips. His arms wrapped around you and you felt like you were melting into him as he returned your touch, running his tongue along your lips, deepening the kiss.

You gasped as a callused hand found your ass, snaking beneath the metal blue dress you were wearing. Leman took advantage of your shock, pushing is tongue into your mouth and tasting you, his other hand locked in your hair. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sucked his tongue, tasting mjord and smoke, earning a growl in return.

You separated and leman admired the mess you had become already, lips pink and cheeks flushed.

"I can give you a taste of home, if you miss it so much" he smirked, running his tongue along his fangs.

You rolled your eyes and grinned, before leaning back in for another kiss.

Russ took this as an open invite and swept you in his arms, dropping you on the bed and slowly slid your dress off your shoulders, peppering kisses and bites marks down your neck and shoulders as he swept the garment from under you and tossed it to the floor. His hand gripped your waist and ran down your thighs as he took a perk nipple in his mouth and ran his tongue around it, he grinned again, lifting himself from your breast to look at you.

Your eyes were slightly glazed as your chest rose and fell, looking at your lover with doe eyes.

He returned his gaze to your body, trailing his tongue down your stomach before reaching where you wanted.

He lifted your thighs higher as he dove in, licking and sucking on your pussy like a starving man. You gasped and instinctively locked your fingers in his hair.

His tongue felt rough but throne did he know what he what he was doing

Your moaned his name, hips jerking fruitlessly as he held you down, his eyes locked on your face as you came, your hands tightening in his hair as your orgasm rocked through you.

Leman rose, licking away your taste from his lips as he looked down at his work, you lay, flushed and gasping on the warm fur across the bed.

Just the way he liked it

He quickly made light work of his own clothes, throwing them into their own heap next to yours

Your eyes grazed over his body as he stalked towards you, trailing down his broad, scarred chest, following the line of his abs and the trail of hair, lower and lower...

Leman, climbed over you, his braids tickling your skin as he gently gripped one of your hands, locking it next to your head and gazing down at you. You felt your cheeks flush at the intensity of his eyes. The concern, care and feral arousal in his stare raised a heat in your core.

"my little queen" he whispered in your ear, as he slowly slid inside you, inch by inch filing you. You moaned as you felt yourself stretch to your limit, his dick reaching deep inside you as your back arched, pressing your breasts into his chest. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and slowly withdrew, before sliding back inside you, over and over.

"I'll fuck all the sadness right out of you"

You moan his name as he ground into you, one hand still gripping yours as the other held your thigh up, fucking you deeper than you could imagine. His dick touched every part of you as he filled you, over and over. The knot in you stomach getting tighter and tighter...

"L..leman right there!" You mutter into his ear, biting at his lobe "p please"

"Skíthof" he cursed as he felt you tighten around him, "so tight for me" your muscles fluttering around his cock as he drove deeper into you as you came.

Yes, scream my name, you belong to me, my sweet, my heart

You panted as you finished, wrestling your hand free, you gripped around his neck and looked deeply into his eyes.

"I love you, leman" you sighed, biting you lip as the feel of his driving into you, the sound of his breath and skin on skin and the heat from his body drove you towards another peak. "I love you, my wolf"

A brief look of shock passed across Russ's face, his movements became erratic and he growled and dropped his head to your shoulder as you felt him finish, feeling his cum fill you up as he jerked into you, pushing it deep inside your pussy and biting your shoulder, marking you as you cried out, finishing with him.

You stayed like that, wrapped under the body of your lord, his face pressed into the crook of your neck and your arms around him, his dick still wreathed inside you as his cum slowly leaked out.

The reality of your words set in

I love you leman...

The sweet comfort of your afterglow vanished and you blushed furiously.

"did I seriously say that for the first time DURING SEX?!" You screamed internally

Finally, you felt your partner moved, slowly raising off you, his locks tickling across your breasts sending goosebumps across your bare skin as he looked down at you wordlessly, the blue galciers of his eyes looking down at you, almost searching.

"mmm my lord I.." you stutter, trying to find the right words.

He silenced you with a firm kiss, grinning that stupid sexy grin. But despite the smug smile creeping across his features, his face was soft and he met your confused look.

"And I you, my Gmorl"

You lay in shock for a moment, your brain twisting at what was happening as leman pulled away from you and stretched, looking over his shoulder at you. You sat, bolting upright.

"I.. you..."

He smirked at you over his shoulder before rising to his feet and throwing your dress at you.

"come then, sweet one, do you still wish to see fenris again?"

He loved the way your eyes sparkled and you jumped off the bed towards him, clutching your wrinkled dress to your chest.

"really?? We're going home?" You laughed and spun and leman felt his heart skipped a beat in his chest.

He shook his head and bared his fangs in a wide love sick smile

"anything for you, my little love"

[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…

[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.

[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.

[lxvvie]

Being in a relationship with Leman Russ would consist of:

Flirtation. Heavy flirtation on Leman's part. Unabashedly so.

And staring. The way Leman stares at you is intense. If it were anyone else, they'd be understandably unnerved, but you're used to it. Still, it doesn't stop you from getting a little flustered and Russ smirking in response.

Just as Freki and Geri guard Leman, so, too, do they guard you. And enjoy the pats and scritches. One of the main reasons the Wolf King pursued his relationship with you further was because they were so receptive to you.

Similarly, the Fenryka have taken to you like none other. The Wolf King's mate, just as worthy to defend and fight alongside as their sire. Pity you can't drink as much as they can... or can you?

If you thought Horus would never let his partner's feet touch the ground, Russ has his brother beaten. On his lap you'll rest and on his lap you'll remain, one of his large arms wrapped comfortably around you. If he had his way, of course. Which he mostly does.

Leman being a cuddle monster. Or cuddlewolf. Or Cuddleprimarch. Whichever. Preferably naked on his part, too, because he REALLY loves your body heat. No, really. He does.

Because Russ is one of the few primarchs who is quite public with his relationship, you're one of the more visible and publically acknowledged of the spouses. Not as much as Horus's is, but you're up there.

Spoiling you. Perhaps a little too much. Oh, what the hell...

Leman thinking you're magnificent when you're angry. Or flustered. Or fighting. Or all three simultaneously. He'll tease you just so you can get flustered.

Similarly, you tease Leman about his ruminations whenever he drops the Fenrisian barbarian schtick because it's reminiscent of his brother. Which brother, you never say, and the ambiguity of it all is enough for Leman to hit you with a colossal side-eye that has your stomach aching from laughter.

While you most certainly love to assist in braiding Leman's hair up, there's nothing quite as wonderful as feeling the entirety of his mane brush against your skin, a majestic curtain if you will, especially when he corners you and swoops down for a kiss.

[moodymisty]

Misty I humbly request a Leman Russ fluff / lighthearted fic where every time he has to leave for war he gifts her a puppy, but now the sheer amount of dogs she has is a little ridiculous.

Is this just me wanting a massive Viking hubby and as many dogs as I could ever want? Yeah.

🍀

Author's note: Dog time! Very short but, It's cute i think.

Relationships: Leman Russ/Fem!Reader

Warnings: dogs

"Leman, You can't be serious."

The massive Fenrisian wolf pup wriggles in your arm, gumming at your arms and yipping. Russ tosses a hand outward to wave off your incredulous look, mouth agape.

"You always complain about how much you miss when Freya and are the other wolves were pups and you could take them to sleep with you, so here's another for while I'm gone."

While he mentions Freya, the first pup he ever gifted you- you named the dog after an old Fenrisian tale - he fails to mention the five other Fenrisian wolves you technically have.

While many of them are no longer your bed warmers, and now patrol the exterior of the Great Hall protecting it with sharp teeth in the never ending blizzards, they will still come to you barking and wanting affection.

"At this rate, you're going to run out of places to put them and meat to feed them with." Russ laughs, rolling his eyes. He leans forward to roughly pat the large pup on the head, it's ears twitching and he reaches out to try and playfully nip at his hand.

"Then just keep the pup while I'm gone, and then I'll give it to the whelps to train."

One of many things a Space Wolf must go through is working with the massive Fenrisian Wolves, and a lucky few can claim ones as mounts and battle companions.

After petting the pup he kisses your forehead, and leans up to his full height again.

"What. Do you want me to throw the pup back out with the others?" You instantly hold it tighter, it yipping happily in your arms.

"No! I'll do what you said; I'll keep it until you come back."

You had said that about the last one, and now your pack was six. Seven, is what it'll more than likely end up as even when Russ returns from his crusade.

The primarch laughs as your vehement refusal ever after complaining about this, as the cute pup wins out over logic. It licks your face, and you drop it onto the bed where it starts jumping around.

"Why would you just bring one of the grown ones in?" You laugh.

"Because it'll crush me in bed?" It's Russ' turn to laugh now, putting a hand to his chest.

"You have the same risk when you sleep with me, you know." Instead of fumbling over your argument like he had expected you shrug, nodding.

"True... Maybe I should just bring Freya back inside then."

Russ runs a hand through his braided hair and rolls his eyes, lamenting about something involving women, dogs, mjod and wanting to kill something, before leaving.

[wxnheart]

What is cuddling with the primarchs like. (And no just writing morty off with a stank joke plz)

Horus - Very affectionate, complete with quips and kisses. Loves to hold you in the crook of his arm. His tits are wonderful pillows.

Leman Russ - Leman is quite the cuddler, especially because he really likes skin-to-skin contact when you two cuddle. More than likely, you'll both be naked. To your surprise, horizontal loving doesn't happen as often as you thought it would.

Ferrus Manus - A bit stilted but he's got the spirit. His arms are of great interest to you so it's not out of the ordinary to marvel at them.

Fulgrim - Cuddling with Fulgrim has an 85% chance of leading to... other things so yeah. Cuddling also includes a very elaborate primping session.

Vulkan - About as vanilla and saccharine as it gets. Doesn't usually last long because the giant teddy bear is a walking furnace.

Rogal Dorn - Also a bit stilted with him, too. If anything, you'll be tucked under him and engaging in conversation over his latest project. His voice, though he doesn't believe it, is quite sonorous and lulls you into a peaceful doze.

Roboute Guilliman - You're the one sitting in his lap while he's busy doing paperwork or the like. You like to tease him and he'll chuckle and tell you to behave; this is said rather suggestively, too. 👀

Magnus - Funnily enough, you're cuddling and playing with his hair while nestled comfortably in one arm while he's busy reading a book or perhaps the latest treatise his brother Lorgar wrote.

Sanguinius - Just as saccharine as Vulkan's, complete with you being enveloped in his wings just as much are you are in his arms. Touching his feathers will make him rouse his wings, though.

Lion El'Jonson - LMAO.

Perturabo - You're begrudgingly (read: happily) nestled against him and he begrudgingly (read: ABSOLUTELY) accepts it.

Mortarion - The clingy koala of the group, even with the scowl on his face. If he had his way, he'd never let go. Don't you dare tell his brothers or sons, though.

Lorgar - The one who cocoons himself around you. He absolutely, positively adores your cuddle sessions. It's a wonderful retreat away from his obligations and foster father.

Jaghatai Khan - You're holding on to him for dear life while he goes fast so there goes your cuddle session. He's really the one who has no objections to cuddling but he doesn't actively seek them out, either.

Konrad Curze - Does looming over you smirking like a deranged gremlin count as cuddling? If so, then... nice!

Angron - One of the many reasons he has to hate the Nails. Wants your touch. Yearns for it, actually, and if he didn't have them, he'd have Mortarion beat as the clingiest koala to ever cling. Instead, he has to contend with thought and you have to contend with the crazed way he looks at you. Cheers, darling.

Corvus Corax - Cuddling him is like being enveloped by the comfortable darkness. Whenever you're surrounded by it, you're secure in his arms.

Alpharius - You cuddle one, you cuddle them all. Cuddle pile!

[slaaneshisass]

While I'm thinking about it more space marine(chaos or not) should be fat.

I know that space marines are engineerd to not get fat but hear me out. Not only do space wolfs have feasts, but the blood angels use art to combat the red thirst i.e that chocolateter guy who goes viral every now and then. But it could also be a reason that a space marine fell to chaos after centuries of eating the same Nutrient paste I know that at least one space marine had a meat ball or something and was like "danm food is so good when its not just paste" and if slaanesh shows up promising more food that taste and feels good and more,I know I'd take it. But it would also give more protection for their internal organs and also I think space marines that looked like this but much bigger would be so hot

Thank you for reading my rambling

[lemon-russ]

You know what ELSE no one asked for?

Space wolf orgy ✨ 180 from the earlier fluff. Because much like Wolf Mother, there are two wolves inside me-- dragged off by inquisitors

Two writings in one night? That's right I'm in such a fuckin mood and none of it is going towards work or asks 💖 (I'm sorry I will get to those lmao) Heavily inspired by @pluvio-tea 's magnum opus ❤���

Tags: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk, and thank you @squishyowl for the dividers as always ✨

Leman Russ (and more) X F!Reader

CW: Space wolf gangbang, piv, thigh fucking, the space wolves and Leman never do anything to each other but incest? Maybe? Straight up 1000% no plot smut, full on porb no stops

“L-Leman-!” You gasp, writhing in your husbands lap as you come again.

The Primarch growls an animalistic noise, palming your ass in his hands and bouncing you on his cock.

“Are- are you ready for another-?” He grunts. Your slicked pussy makes sticky noises as he pumps you onto him, stretching you to your limit.

“Yes-” you pant weakly. Your embarrassment is long dead, all your mind can grasp is the feeling of your cervix being bullied by the head of the Wolf King's dick.

He growls a happy noise, slowly raising you off him. Your body reluctantly separates from his, and his retreating cock is follwed by a gush of his seed.

You whimper, but you aren't left wanting long. One of the bloodclaws that have been watching the exchange, waiting patiently for their turn while their primarch warmed you up for them, takes you from Russ.

The handsome young spacewolf hasn't been in enough fights to have any scars on his face yet, a curiosity in the rowdy chapter. You don't have much time to think about it before he's grasping you under the arms and carefully lowering you onto his pulsing cock.

You mewl another noise as you're filled again- the bloodclaw is smaller than your husband, at least, and the stretch is a little less taxing on your poor overused hole.

He wastes no time, quickly bucking up into you, holding you with both hands completely circling your waist. He pants and grunts and growls, and it's almost jarring how quickly you're being thrust into. Your hands grasp the wolf's forearms to try and find balance.

Leman smiles a pleased look, watching his son use you. “Beautiful pup-” he grumbles happily, stroking his already recovering cock back to attention. “You are so good for the pack, you bring such calmness to the younger wolves.”

You can't respond through the gasping pants being ripped through you at the bloodclaw's violent thrusting. You're glad Leman warmed you up, or this may hurt.

Another bloodclaw whimpers and approaches, glancing at Russ for permission. The primarch nods with a fanged smile, and the bloodclaw decends on you. The first one is annoyed at the interruption, but when the new wolf seems content to press himself between your thighs, your bullride continues.

The new space wolf has a scarred slash across the bridge of his nose, which somehow makes him look cuter than otherwise. He curls around you, growling little noises of pleasure as you're pumped up and down by the first.

Your eyes roll back. The new bloodclaws cock pressed against your clit, causing the very fast thrusts of his compatriot to give your clit much needed attention. The shocks of pleasure make you whimper, and you feel your stomach curl as you're pushed towards another orgasm.

The first bloodclaw hilts suddenly. He pushes you forward, toppling you and the second wolf backwards. You end up laying on the stomach of the thigh fucking wolf with the one in your pussy suddenly slamming into you, holding you like a cocksleeve by the hips.

You cry out as you come weakly, body already so worn from Russ’ uses of you. You turn your head to see the primarch fisting his cock, eyes locked to yours with a pleased smile.

Your twitching orgasm is enough to push the bloodclaw over the edge, and he slams against your cervix as he pumps come into you.

You whimper as you feel it fill you again, and bury your face against the chest of the scarred wolf.

When the first bloodclaw finally pops out of your abused hole, the one you lay on takes the opportunity to push you upright. Confusingly, he doesn't have you mount him- instead, he puts his precum slick cock back between your thighs. You raise a brow as he positions your knees together and gets back to thrusting.

You moan again as the friction on your clit resumes, shaking from overstimulation. The bloodclaw pants, watching your face with a flushed face and mouth agape.

“I- just really like-” he grunts in a sweet but strained voice, “h-how your thighs look- in those d-dresses you wear, m-my Lady-”

Huh. Well, you can't argue with that, you suppose. Though you can”t argue with much as your mind blanks from the friction on your poor, swollen clit.

You're forced over the edge again, shaking weakly and groaning breathy noises as the space wolf paints both your stomachs in his cum.

He lets you rest, panting under you, and Leman scoots over to support your twitching body.

“How are you fairing, pup?” He asks huskily.

You make a meek noise, and he chuckles. He motions to one of the waiting bloodclaws, and they bring you a waterskin. Leman carefully helps you sip, picking you up and cradling you in his lap again.

“You're doing wonderful, love.” He praises, petting your hair as you gulp at the water.

You smile up at him, feeling the contented warm buzz through your body. “H-how… many more…?” You ask quietly.

He smiles so sweetly down at you. “Only 5 or 6 more to go now. You rest a moment, then we'll pick up where we left off.” He grumbles, voice thick with adoration. He kisses you on the brow and you sigh a bit.

“Well-” you chuckle tiredly, “better get back to it, then.”

[angronsjewelbeetle]

Goofy courting headcanons because SOMEBODYYY HAS GIVEN ME BRAINROTTTTT AT ONE IN THE MORNINGGGG (and im not mad about it at all <3) @ms--lobotomy

Leman Russ Courting Headcanons

-Wants to be close. Constantly. And he will be. He does this by simply not leaving your side.

-Seriously good luck trying to piss alone from now on :/

-VERY physically affectionate. Always touching you no matter where you are or what you're doing  

-Grooming is another big one. He'll sit there and do your hair, he'll braid it if it's long enough (even if it's not, the weird short sticky-uppy bits make him laugh), he'll make sure you're clean, wash your back for you, etc

-Hip bumps you. Like a lot. This guy just swings his ass at u like its nothing. He's being nothing but playful but sometimes...it ends in disaster

-Brings you food. Like a lot of it. You will never go hungry again. Leman Russ is nothing if not a provider and protector.

-Sniffs you a lot. Might compliment you on your smell. Might insult you and then insist on you wearing something of his. 40/60 chances.

[druidwolf21]

Leman russ x f reader

Return

Ugh I had to, I love him so much

I need this man carnally

Everyone Please lemme know your thoughts!!

Warning for LEWD NSFW

I tried to include some (what Google says) Norse words but they could be wrong please don't yell!

Drottning-queen

Feilan-little wolf

Ástin min-my love

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

I'm tagging you guys because I love you from afar and need your opinion 🥺

You carried yourself high, head raised and back straight as you walked along the halls of the Hrafnkel. The iron walls of the battleship were sporadically peppered with tapestries of great battles, wolves and glory, but they were of little interest to you as you strode onward, your hand gently gripping the dense fur of the fenrisian wolf who prowled beside you.

Astartes nodded to you as you walked, some muttering "Feilan" as you passed.

You shook your head slightly and slowed. "little wolf" you muttered to yourself "A fitting name I suppose, don't you agree, Frenki?"

You looked to the large wolf and cocked your head. It's large amber eyes stared back at you as you as you scratched its shoulder before setting off again.

No time to dawdle

"let us go to our Lord then, shall we?" You smile picking up the pace as you draw closer to the ebony doors. You reach out a hand to grasp the silvered handle when the wood swings open and you are faced with the fur and steel armour of a marine.

"Dróttning" he greeted, slamming a ceremite fist to his chest in greeting, the noise ringing down the hall.

"chapter master Grimnar, it does me well to see you" you smiled in return at the man towering over you "I assume your business with my lord is concluded? I have urgent matters to discuss"

The grizzled warrior raised a brow before speaking "indeed my lady, I now have other duties to attend" He dippes his chin and passed by, roughly scratching Frenki's head as he did so. "I shall advise our brothers Lord Russ will be indisposed until further notice"

"my thanks, chapter master" you flitted through the gap in the door and closed it softly behind you.

Frenki lapped a long wet tongue against your arm before bolting past you to leap at his brother, rolling in the pile of furs as he rejoice at the reunion.

Your eye however, was drawn somewhere much different.

You watched as leman slugged off his heavy furs and dropped his leather tunic to the floor, the muscles under his skin working as he stretched, running a callused hand through his hair, stood only in his woolen trousers, he knelt to remove a boot.

Walking over you ran a hand over his back, following the line of his muscle and scars up his back until your hand found his hair.

You gently began untwisting one of the braids in his hair as your lips met his ear.

"my wolf" you whispered, gently biting at his lobe.

You gasp as you are suddenly lifted into the air, feet dangling as lips meet yours, arms wrapped around your waist holding you close. You feel a tongue run across your lips, tasting you. You moan into the touch and pull away, panting slightly as eyes the colour of ice stare into you before dropping you onto a bed of soft sheets and furs.

"I have missed you, my lord" you sigh, pulling gently at his hair. Leman grins at you, large canines bared as he looks down at you. Heat rises up your neck and into your cheeks, feeling like a hare caught by the wolf, you sigh again as he presses his face into your neck, biting and sucking at your skin.

A hand snakes it's way up your dress, following the soft skin of your thigh before stopping at your core and you moan at the contact, pressing yourself into his hand.

"I can tell" he smirks "so wet for me, before I have even touched you" He presses a finger slowly inside you and you moan, arching into him as he slowly moves in and out. "So eager to please, such a good girl"

His other hand find the front of you dress and pulls the fabric down, your skin prickles as the sudden chill, until he brings his mouth down and drags his tongue across a sensitive nipple.

"p.please" you gasp, reaching for him, only to have both of your wrists grasped and pressed down to the mattress above your head

"please what?"

Again with that throne damned smirk

You feel a familiar sensation rising as he continues to finger in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit as your heart beat is like a hammer in your ears and you cry out as pleasure washes over you

"you sing so sweetly when you cum" he sighed, releasing your wrists and stripping his trousers, before leaning over you again

"russ please" you beg, breathless "I need you.."

Your begging is silenced as He bites into your shoulder, easing himself between your wet folds. You gasp, feeling yourself being filled to your limit as he slides inside you.

"such a good girl, your pretty little cunt takes every inch" he growls, fully sheathing himself in you. You moan and arch into him again, hands clawing at his back before falling back to grasp the sheets as he begins pumping into you.

His arms are either side of your head as he gazes down at you, his thighs hitting your ass as he drives himself deep inside you, you turn your head to the side, only for him to grasp your chin and turn you back to him.

"look at me" he panted "I want to see your pretty little face as you cum"

You feel the heat rising in your core again and whimper, trying to keep your head unclouded, but God's, he's so big, and the way he looks at you, the moans as he fuck you...

Leman spits a curse as feels you tighten around him, cumming.

"already?" he grumbled, thrusting into you more erratically " you must've been so lonely if you cum for me so easily" he grunted as he leans closer, lifting your thighs up and grabbing your ass roughly to hit deeper, if that was even possible.

"only for you my wolf" you cry, feeling as though all sense is being fucked from your brain "I am only yours"

Leman snarled and pounded into you harder, fucking you into the mattress, his eyes wild and he tangled a hand in your hair, pulling your head up so he could run his tongue along your throat.

"mine, all mine, little wolf" he moaned as you felt him cum inside you, his breath erratic and his hips thrust to drive it as deep inside you as he could before he finally stopped, resting in his forearms above your flushed body, his blonde hair tickling your skin as he slowly raised himself off you, pulling himself out of your warmth and you sighed at the suddenly empty feeling, wishing already to be filled again. You sit up and feel a heavy fur being pulled across your shoulders to shield you from any chill.

"I have missed you, my sweet" you smile tiredly, staring up at the Primark as he adjusted the pelt.

"Ástin min" he smiled sweetly, sweeping a hand across your face " would that I never have to leave your side" he winked at you "or your bed"

You rolled your eyes and laughed, before standing and reaching for him

"come my lord, let me finish your braids"

[solspina]

Where is a Line for Justice Drawn?

magnus the red ⋆˙⟡

a short little blurb i threw together while i was trying to lull myself to sleep last night! not heavily edited, so i apologize for any mistakes!

heresy is unforgivable, and magnus knows this better than anyone. psykers are heretics, and leman russ knows this better than anyone. the blood of the crimson lady and a young red skinned girl is the only way to pay the price.

warnings: major character death, child death, mentions of burning/heavy injury, angst and more angst, leman is very cruel

Pride will be the death of you.

Among his brothers, it was a common misconception that the pride of Magnus the Red lay solely in his power and knowledge of the unseen universe. They believed that he took the most pleasure from understanding things even the emperor didn’t, or took great joy in knowing more than the rest of them.

Their judgements were far from the truth, for it lay instead in the things they failed to see. His pride was a perfect two sided coin, one in which the sides belonged to different women respectively, none other than his wife and daughter. His brothers knew not of this, all of them besides Leman Russ.

Leman knew the truth. He knew where the sorcerer buried his deepest weakness, it was within that pathetic psyker of a wife and the vibrant red skin of his half divine daughter. He knew of the heresy that had been committed by Magnus upon prospero. He knew how to bring Magnus to his knees. He knew that Magnus feared him.

Perhaps that was how Magnus had gotten into the position he was in today.

His wife lay motionless on the floor, her pure white robes were bloodstained and dirty, an indication that she had tried to run away. An arrow was nestled carefully between her shoulder blades, penetrating her heart and pulling her away from life incredibly slowly.

Magnus knelt by his wife’s side, weeping ever so slightly as his heart shattered further with every passing second. He avoided the gaze of Leman who stood across the room. The crimson king’s infant daughter was still in the arms of the wolf, but her voice no longer cooed sweet nothings into her father’s ears or babbled at absolutely anything. Her skin, the same color as his, now paled in comparison to its once vibrant beauty. His child was lost, gone before she could ever say her first word or experience premonition.

Aside from the great king’s gentle sobs, the crackling of flames and the screaming of entire families could be heard outside. The noises, along with the suffocating smoke in the air, came from the streets of Prospero as it burned.

“One of them felt no pain, Magnus” Leman’s voice echoed across the room as he looked down upon the crimson skinned child, not a wound on her body. He didn’t want to know how she died. He wanted no knowledge of what the wolf did to his daughter. “The other, though…”

Bruises and small cuts had completely littered every inch of his wife’s perfect skin, a surface that Magnus used to caress with such gentleness and care. It was undeniable that she would put up a fight. Inevitable that she would try to run, only to be shot through her most vital organ of life the moment she made it into Magnus’ arms. Unavoidable that Leman would walk into the room immediately after the shot was fired, their daughter lifeless in his arms.

Even now, she clung to him with the last few moments of life she had within her. Her hands were placed upon the primarch’s shoulders as she shook in terror against him.

“Please” her voice trembled as tears spilled from her eyes. “I don’t want to die… I’m scared, Magnus…” Her expression was full of fear and her voice was barely above a whisper. He could tell from the way she looked at him that she was desperately seeking comfort, but he failed to grant her that wish. He wanted to reassure her, to tell that everything would be okay, but his words caught in his throat.

He was frozen, unable to process the gravity of the situation. He could not bear seeing her afraid like this, nor could he bring himself to lie to her. Helplessness washed over him like crashing waves, pulling him in and out of reality as he cradled her in his arms, one last time. “Magnus,” she spoke once more, her words weakened as she became tired, his own voice still failing him to speak. “I love you…”

In the blink of an eye, she was gone. An incredibly broken “I love you too” finally made it’s way out of his throat, but far too late for her to hear.

Leman laughed maniacally, sickeningly. “A death fit for a psyker.” He spat, venom and contempt dripped from his voice. He walked across the room with a chilling calmness, Magnus’ daughter cradled in his arms. With a grotesque mockery of calmness, Leman placed the lifeless baby gently in her cradle. He had covered the young girl with her blanket, creating a display as if she had merely been asleep. He was teasing the weeping crimson king with every action, the cruelty of the executioner in its most pure form.

“My work for father is done here” claimed the wolf, his teeth beared in a smile as he looked down upon the pathetic excuse for a sorcerer cradling his wife. “Heretics are to be executed, brother” Leman declared, his voice cold and unyielding. He before turned on his heels as he prepared to exit Magnus’ tower, his tattered cloak billowed behind him. “You should know better.” were his final, cutting words to the crimson king as he left him to drown in his grief. His beloved tower, once home to both his family and infinite pillars of knowledge, had come to feel like more of a tomb.

Magnus carefully removed his wife from the ground and placed her down on their bed, one they shared while she was alive, before making his way to the cradle his daughter lay in. He lifted her from her bed and away from the blankets that Leman had tainted with blood, the face of the babe was peaceful and serene despite all that had happened, despite her lack of life. He opted to lay the baby in the arms of his wife, allowing the only two things that mattered more than knowledge to appear together one final time. He looked upon them with sorrow, trying desperately to convince himself that the two of them were simply sleeping. It had just been a long day and they were tired, that’s all this was.

His hands trembled as he caressed the baby’s cheek, her face illuminated by the bright orange flames that raged outside. He lay his own body next to the two women, one arm over the both of them. He spoke to them, sharing with them stories and knowledge that even humanity had not yet touched, they never would. Prospero burned, and the unrelenting flames would not cease.

Perhaps it was not selfish for the primarch to allow himself the liberty of dying next to his wife and daughter. The flames that burned his skin could never match the warmth the girls used to provide when they lived, and he’d take every ounce of the fading heat until he emitted none of his own.

Would it be selfish to become the monster that Leman had suspected? Would it be selfish to wish for change?

[ms--lobotomy]

“How many geese do you think I can take on in a fight?”

oh. oh anon. i love this prompt. i owe you my life. happy sanguinala :)

LION EL'JONSON- Stares at you. Is thinking about how many geese he can take on himself.

???- The geese got them.

FULGRIM- This is not a question that Fulgrim is prepared for. He dances around the question and never gives you a direct answer. Asshole.

PERTURABO- Depends on what mood he's in. If he's in a petulant one, he'll just grunt and get back to work. If not, he'll give you a normal-ish answer.

JAGHATAI KHAN- One of the Primarchs with greater faith in your ability to take on geese in a fight. Gives you a logical answer based on your fighting prowess and stamina.

LEMAN RUSS- Leman takes this question very seriously. Out loud, he measures up your combat abilities against smaller opponents. He's blatantly wrong.

ROGAL DORN- "I will not allow you to take on any geese in a fight. Do you have any idea how dangerous they are?"... He lectures you on why fighting geese is a bad idea.

KONRAD CURZE- "Four," he says before you ask the question. He flashes you a shit-eating grin, as he knew how much you wanted to ask the question.

SANGUINIUS- This one hits a little too close to home for him. "Can we... can we pick a different animal, please?"

FERRUS MANUS- "The flesh is strong." Pushes you to fight these geese with your bare hands. Has faith in you.

???- Is a goose. Honks at you.

ANGRON- He will not leave you any geese, even in this hypothetical scenario. He wishes to engage them in glorious melee combat himself.

ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN- Thinks about it for a second and lets out a chuckle. Not as bad of a lecturer as Dorn, but will ask you if you are prepared to fight so many geese.

MORTARION- Has no faith in you. Massive pessimist about the whole deal. Advises you to not even engage one goose.

MAGNUS THE RED- "Depends on the environment," he says before getting back to his studies. You are left to contend with what environment you want to fight geese in.

HORUS LUPERCAL- Throws his head back in laughter, putting a hand on your shoulder. He gives you a throwaway answer.

LORGAR- Asks you what you're thinking. Strongly advises you not to fight ANY geese, but ends up giving you a plausible answer.

VULKAN- Asks you if you're serious about fighting geese. Asks you if you need any armor and/or weapons. Is prepared to back you up in this fight.

CORVUS CORAX- Stops what he's doing to think about the answer. Gives you an honest estimate, if a little pessimistic.

ALPHARIUS- Fighting the Alpha Legion is a lot like fighting a bunch of geese. I refuse to elaborate.

[f1shz]

For you, @druidwolf21

[moodymisty]

Heya Misty! Your blog has cheered me up so many times since I found it last year. Genuinely, thank you for everything you share with us. Its always a ton of fun here! If I'm not too late for requests, could I request some pred/prey smut with Leman? Wolfdaddy can always use more love :) and I hope the future has nothing but blessings in store for you xx

Author's note: BARK BARK

Relationships: Leman Russ/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Predator/Prey play, Oral (female receiving), Very light breeding kink

The tree branches scratch at your skin through your clothes, boots trampling through the deep snow. It's up to your mid calves- considered a light amount of snow on Fenris. You can feel your own hot breath fan across your face as you run through it, stumbling through the woods with no sense of direction.

Russ had given you a few hour head start, with the implication that you wouldn't even last till nightfall. You hadn't disagreed with him, though there was a sudden blossoming of pride in you that wanted to prove him wrong.

But the sun is starting to set, the sky is turning purple and orange; That sense of pride is now replaced with fear, you have a feeling he's toying with you.

You keep hearing leaves rustling and branches breaking without a trace of why, but always from a particular direction.

You know he's toying with you.

For just a moment you dare to try to stop and catch your breath, feeling your heart beat against your ribs. Your body feels hot in your clothes despite the temperature, though taking them off would be suicide in this icy chill.

A terrifyingly loud crunch has you taking your hands off your knees and putting your head on a swivel like a rabbit, taking off again through the thick snow trying to make any sort of distance- before realizing that it isn't an option.

Through the last few trees you can see the edge of the cliff, dropping down hundreds of feet into nothingness. Your throat burns in pain, each heavy breath is like knives against it's dry flesh as you stare into the abyss.

Russ herded you here- he's trying to trap you and succeeding.

"I can smell you, little wolf."

The deep rumble of his voice echoes through the trees, and you don't bother to look around before running. The snot in your nose is frozen and you can feel snowflakes against your skin, the cloth of your clothing dragging in the snow.

"You want to get bred. Once I catch you, I will."

There's absolutely nowhere to hide out here- The only foliage is the trees and even if you had the strength to climb them, you would only trap yourself for him. The instinctual want to get higher is a thing you have to fight within yourself to keep moving.

Not that he would complain if you trapped yourself; You're sure he's being lackadaisical on purpose to draw this out, to try and simulate a hunt that would actually require some effort.

"You make such good prey,"

Russ' revert back to baser, wolf taught instincts has him overjoyed at the struggling of what to him is a small animal, one who's heart is about ready to explode.

"I wonder if you could ever last the night out here."

You suddenly stumble over in the snow, the cold ice stinging your palms like needles. Through the cloud of your own breath you try and get to your feet and keep moving along the edge of the cliff to somewhere else- anywhere else, but you end up just stumbling over again as your body begins to give in.

You feel the ground rumble beneath your hands and knees and instantly your heart begins to race, the prey instinct of being injured and exposed.

"I can smell you're bleeding,"

He says, emerging from between the trees. You quickly try and scamper to your feet, only to fall right over again into the snow. A scream catches in your throat as the thought of fleeing overtakes you.

Russ however simply laughs at the struggling of his prey and quickly moves in to snatch you up, tying you wrists together as you try to escape from him.

"Let us get this bounty back to the Great Hall then, shall we."

You scream as he throws you over his shoulder, gripping you by the thigh and trudging through the snow leagues easier than you could.

There's no motion you could possibly make to free yourself from him now, and your heart finally begins to slow down once your mind catches up with the fact that this play hunt is over.

It's terrifying how a change in context can turn him into an absolute horror; And you know he's only playing.

Despite it being so easy however Russ seemed to very well enjoy it, bursting back into the blooming warmth of the Great Hall boots thundering on the ground. He tracks in snow from his boots, it crumbling to dust all over the floor and making a mess of the rugs.

"Ahh, father!"

One of the wolves guarding the hall speaks up with a pep in his voice and a warm flush to his cheeks from the chill outside.

"You finally got your prize I see!"

Embarrassment blooms on your face in a sudden explosion when you realize that Russ apparently not only told his sons about this little game, but more likely bragged about what his prize was going to be.

Russ lets out a chuckle from deep within his chest you feel vibrate in your gut, nodding at his astartes.

"Tell Bjorn he's in charge until the morn, I won't be interrupted unless it is urgent."

The wolf nods back, and watches Russ leave in the direction of his bedchambers. You are able to watch the wolf as he departs, giving you a keen look before leaving himself to presumably tell Bjorn of his temporary duties.

The entire time Russ has quite the firm hold on your thighs and ass, taking the fruit of his hunt right to his den. Once he gets there you're thrown onto the massive bed covered in pelts with little fanfare, hands still tied.

For a moment, the way Russ looks down on you is with that same predatory stare you saw out in the woods, and your heart begins to pick up pace as he approaches and hefts his weight onto the bed.

"You're taking this far more seriously than I-!" He suddenly pushes you around on the massive bed, wrapping the fabric around your wrists to connect you to part of the headboard. "Than I expected!"

Russ gives you a large, fang filled smirk.

"What, do I seem the type to half ass things?"

He doesn't quite care about your response, only about the way you squeak when he grabs hold of your clothes and rips them off of you bit by bit, the fabric scattered about. The snow you had also tracked in on your clothes dusts around the bed, some of it getting on your bare skin and making a shiver run up your body.

Your breath comes out of your throat shaking and ragged as he presses his face to your lower stomach, laughing as he grips your thighs. You can feel him intake a good breath of air as his beard digs into your skin.

"You smell even better than usual- should do this more often."

You don't know how you feel about that; You're so tired from all the running that your muscles are screaming in pain; You don't think you have the strength to do much more than lie here and simply let him have his way with you. Not that he will complain about enjoying his prize in such a way.

His mouth drifts lower, large hands pushing your thighs apart and back. You let out a soft noise in your throat.

He then presses his face between your thighs, mouth covering your cunt. He listens to the way you suddenly squeal and kick your legs, hands still locked above your head. You writhe underneath him with no way to even grab something to ground yourself, your whines echoing in the massive, high ceiling room.

The course, rough hair of his beard scratches against the skin of your thighs and outer lips, surely leaving you with hot, scuffed skin that will burn for days after. Russ finds it amusing, and will sometimes after he's done and sees the raw flesh will lick and kiss at it- listening to you try and whimper at him to stop.

You feel the deep groan he lets out rumble against your core, tongue brushing over your clit. Your thighs are tight trying to close around his head but he doesn't let them, pressing them back and far apart. He closes his lips around your clit and sucks listening to you squeal and writhe underneath him, before pulling away and laughing at the way your hips try to follow.

He drags his jaw against your leg scratching the soft skin with his beard. He can't resist giving it a quick bite also, leaving dents in the soft fat at the apex of your inner thigh.

He returns his mouth to your cunt and continues, feeling his sharp fangs occasionally catch at your skin. He may never be the most coordinated, but he makes up for it with an enthusiasm that has tears in the corners of your eyes; Spit mixing with the juices that leak from you neverending.

"R-Russ,"

Your stomach tenses almost painfully as he continues to lap at you, one hand leaving it's grip on your thighs to slip a finger past your entrance. You gasp and tighten around him, feeling the way his thick digit slips deep inside of you. It feels like he's trying to push up through your lower stomach with how deep his is, brushing deep towards your cervix.

Your one thigh pressing against his head now free, he slips a second finger inside of you and listens to you keen and writhe at the stretch. He chuckles, tongue dancing over your folds and overwhelming you until your stomach feels like it hurts so much it's going to explode; Clit throbbing underneath his tongue.

Your throat is raw from running for so long in the cold but this only makes it worse, letting out a ragged, shaking dry moan as you body goes limp and you cum on his fingers.

He continues for just a bit longer feeling the way you whimper at the overstimulation, milking every last bit out of you until there's nothing left.

Left panting and totally limp you feel his fingers leave your cunt, grimacing at the way they stretch you wider as they pull out. His mouth leaves and he wipes your juices, though it mostly smears them over his beard then actually cleaning himself.

Out of breath and limp you look up at him with wide eyes, watching as he starts to undress himself.

"Can you untie me first?"

You plead to him, watching as he undoes the top half of his clothes. You see his lower stomach, the trail of hair that leads down below his waistline and beneath his trousers.

"No. I quite like when my prey is tied up."