#moreso an enduring title given to fellow soldiers after fighting 300 years with the same guy

[420thewritersroom]

Warhammer/Horus Heresy Kinktober 2024

Day 1: Dark Angels/Clothes/Public-Getting Caught

Summary: Asmodai catches one of his younger brothers jorking their shit while sniffing some jorts

TW: Armor stays on during sex, public sex (I think), getting caught, humiliation, scent, Astartes like that human rank, voyeurism, masturbation, no beta we die like Horus

Adding this to the list of shit I should probably get done, but I'm too busy doing this! I got the inspiration from a tumblr post from @bbrokenbback that made a Warhammer/Horus Heresy Kinktober lists and I wanted to have a crack at it as I've never done a Kinktober before. Can't promise I'll do ALL of the days or even stay 100% true to the prompts, but I can try lol. If you want the link to the post and want to try it yourself or give it your own little spin, check the end notes!

There is an unspoken truth amongst Astartes that is seldom spoken about. Lest you are like the barbaric Space Wolves or White Scars, or even the far-to-curious Blood Ravens, there is a reason why Astartes, if it can be helped, rarely interact with mortals. A rational Astartes could list a plethora of reasons why their legion keep their distance: life span, the constant, unneeded reverence, their accommodations. But there's always one reason that they leave out, the scent.

A mortal's scent, as insignificant and unnoticeable as it may be compared to what an Astartes has experienced, is considered intoxicating. At least, those were the rumors Asmodai had heard. He's heard talks amongst his brothers. About the various scents they lather on their bodies, should they have the luxury of obtaining scented oils and perfumes. Their natural aroma that exudes from the Guardsmen after long hours of training. The adrenaline rush after a battle, where they are bathed in the viscera and blood of their enemies. It's all the wild with the new Primaris brothers, with their enhanced senses taking in the smell of mortals, a scent that is both a temptation and a torment.

Asmodai is no stranger to this revelation; he never cared to notice, as his duty as the Interrogator-Chaplain was always first on his mind. But the way the new recruits talk of this scent topic is almost akin to a lustful fascination. He remembers one of the new recruits, freshly baptized from the roaring fires of battle, expressing how they were practically frozen in place when a mortal approached them. Musky and lathered in dirt & blood, combined with their natural scent of sweat and adrenaline. The Guardsman simply wanted to provide their thanks and reverence, as the typical mortal does, but the Dark Angel wanted to pounce on them right then and there. To rub that concoction of odors all over themselves and mix it with their own. The most the aspiring Dark Angel could do was follow the Guardsman under the guise that they wanted to "ensure they reached their squad safely."

Asmodai still remembers the teasing chuckle one of the elder Angels gave upon hearing this confession. A member of the 9th Company was giving the 10th Company Neophytes war stories of their prior battles before the conversation devolved into the topic of how mortals smell.

"It smells better without the respirator."

Asmodai still cringes inward upon hearing such a statement. And perhaps he heard more than he needed that day. About how some of the Primaris started sneaking near where the mortals work, where they shower. Some dared breaking into the servants' quarters when they were out and about and stealing personal belongings, particularly articles of clothing that left behind a strong aroma. And Asmodai had the...Misfortune to see what one would want with such items.

Asmodai walked the quiet corridors of the Whispering Dome, a place steeped in the history and grandeur of the Dark Angels, hoping to find a place for meditation amongst the various artifacts upheld and kept by their Chapter. Beautiful and glorious they were, representations of the Dark Angels might, their heroics, their perseverance through the darkest hour. All kept and maintained within these mystical chambers. The stars were shining from outside the Dome, and the iridescent stardust provided a soft, dim glow in the room; it was perfectly romantic. Revisiting the Dome felt like reuniting with ghostly lovers for Asmodai. And it was perfectly ruined when he heard a muffled moan.

Asmodai snaps his head to where he thought he heard the intrusive sound, eyes searching like a cornered animal for any visitors. In hindsight, Asmodai wished the moan was from the pitiful throat of a servitor simply conducting its duties. But when his curiosity led him to a dark corner of the Dome, he wished he didn't bother to sate his prying mind.

He recognized the Astartes by the strand of their hair, jet-black and neatly combed back. Josephus, Asmodai remembered their name being. One of the new recruits; newly baptized as well. Asmodai's shock and disappointment were palpable as he realized the extent of the new recruit's actions, starkly contrasting the honor and discipline expected of a Dark Angel. Josephus held his cock firmly in their hand, stroking the base and making slow tugs at his member. Asmodai's blood boiled with righteous fury by the second. What a battle brother did in their free time with their body was none of anyone's concern. Despite the Emperor's blessed teachings and their transformation as Astartes, their bodies still betray them thanks to the high adrenaline they experience on a near daily basis. It's not uncommon for a brother to seek relief after a strenuous battle or sparring match due to heightened epinephrine and blood rushing further south. And perhaps Asmodai would've forgiven such a public display if it wasn't in their most sacred domains on the Rock!

At least Josephus had enough "decency" to remain mostly clothed, still in their scouts' armor with the codpiece seemingly discarded and utilizing the clothed cape to further hide himself from onlookers. Asmodai bore holes into the young Astartes, watching them palm the head of their dripping cock, attuning his ears to their sinful mewls, trying desperately to hold the moan.

He's honestly surprised Josephus didn't immediately feel his presence, but Asmodai would get his immediate answer as the young Primaris, with his other, occupied hand, brought an article of clothing to his face and pressed it to his nose. Heaving in a quick whiff, moving his hand at a faster pace before taking in the still air of the Dome, shakily exhaling as Josephus rut into his own hand.

Of course. The new little Angel caught wind of their favorite scent. Asmodai wouldn't be surprised if the assortment of garments were from the same Guardsman he followed about like a love-sick puppy. This will not do; none of this will! How many more before the growing scent-driven deviants spoil the sanctity of this Dome? Or other rooms of great import? How long will he stand idly by, watching their new recruits fall to a hidden-debased desire because they like the smell of a mortal man or woman? How much longer before this new "trend" spreads to the weak-willed of their brothers, the elders amongst them? And when, not if, WHEN, will it eventually be used to conjure the manipulating whispers of the seductive words of their enemies?

Another inhale from Josephus, and Asmodai was already marching towards the boy. It almost made Asmodai more insulted that Josephus was not at all startled to attention by Asmodai's bull rushes towards him. He wasn't even trying to quietly sneak up on the young Aspirant, and yet his scent-hazed mind couldn't even kick into gear that someone was in the same room as him.

Josephus let out a drawn-out moan, a little louder than expected but not as loud as the choked gasp he emitted as Asmodai wrapped his gauntleted fingers around the scout, squeezing tightly and denying him air. Immediately, the younger Primaris began to claw at Asmodai's wrist, dropping the scented clothing and letting go of his exposed cock. Eyes filled with mixtures of fear and shame as their eyes couldn't focus, and their already flushed face grew even redder.

"So you do know shame, brother. How eager you were to discuss such filth amongst your younger brothers behind closed doors," Asmodai tightens his grip, forcing Josephus to focus now on not going under from asphyxiation. "I can only imagine the sin you commit behind said closed doors. But that wasn't enough for you, wasn't it? No. No, you had to despoil our most holy grounds within the Rock. Taint our sacred artifacts with your exposed shame and dirty the floors, the very same floors legends have walked, yet you paint your unsated need upon these sacred halls."

Asmodai would go on, if he wanted. Lecture the boy until he was blue & purple and unconscious from lack of air. But no, that would be a mercy to their pride. Asmodai loosened his grip, allowing Josephus to gasp for lungs full of air as he leaned down to grab the disgusting attire Josephus most definitely stole. The culprit of all of this.

"You will learn to control your urges, boy. I refuse to fight and die alongside the same man who would prostrate themselves over a mortal's aroma. And I will ensure you learn that such debauchery has no place in our legion. Not here, not ever."

Asmodai shoves the odor-ed clothing in Josephus's face, and the taller Astartes stares at Asmodai, confused, holding his breath and remaining still.

"But one cannot teach what they do not understand. I cannot help if I don't understand the extent of your sin," Asmodai sounded almost sympathetic if it wasn't for the modulated tone of his helmet. A falsetto he has practiced with Fallen brothers that would eventually be redeemed. "My talents of redemption do not stop with our lost brothers. I intend to keep our legion on the righteous path of our fore-brothers and our Primarch. To walk in his light as he intended. But I must know. I must know the extent of your shame."

"So show me. Show me how shameless these simple clothes have made you."

It becomes a staring contest between Josephus and Asmodai, neither yielding, but Asmodai could see it. The weight of their guilt seeped through their vacant stare, trying to hold what little pride they could conjure in a situation like this. At least they didn't bother to explain themselves. But Asmodai had no time or patience for this false bravado. He was caught and exposed; it was time he accepted the situation he was in. He squeezed tighter around his neck and shoved the clothes further to his nose.

"Show. Me," a threatening growl oozes from the Integrator-Chaplin.

Josephus gasps, the smell of the Guardsman's uniform seeping into his nostrils and...Oh...That hormonal aroma, the smell of sweat and musk, hints of the past battle that hasn't entirely been washed away by the sterilizing soaps and deodorizers. It was intoxicating, and it alerted Josephus that his cock was still painfully hard, dripping idly and twitching upon being refamiliarized with his favorite Guardsman's scent.

"That's it," the husky, mechanical tone of the Chaplin's voice didn't make things better for the Primaris. Asmodai leans in closer, laser-red eyes boring deep into his soul. His voice dropping to a calming whisper, "Show. Me."

That was enough for Josephus to give in and move his hand back to his cock. Where before the young Astartes paced himself based on how much of the Guardsman's scent he whiffed, now he was pushing himself to finish, sniffing the unwashed clothes now permanently placed under his nostrils as his superior watched him closely. Neither broke eye contact, Josephus's huffs and moans becoming mildly audible with each quickened stroke of his cock, lathering his member with his pre-cum and taking in the scent. By science, it made him feel primal. He almost wanted to push Asmodai away and go searching for the real deal. Looking for that Guardsman and getting his stench all over his body.

"By the Emperor," Asmodai gasps, providing a false sense of "terror" and "worry" in his tone, "It is as bad as I thought. You're barely focusing on me anymore."

Josephus rolled his eyes to the back of his head before closing them, focused now on the stink of the Guardsman and what he wanted to do with them to keep their smell on him. Licking their small, naked body, biting whatever available flesh that was exposed to him. Josephus tugged at his shaft in quick succession, body shivering and twitching as he felt his balls get fuller and fuller, ready to burst at any moment.

"You're feverish, sick. You are sick. Disgusting. Allowing yourself to succumb to such disgusting activities that you can't wait until you are in your personal quarters to relieve yourself. I surmise that if that Guardsman, the one that haunts your very mind, were to pass you, you wouldn't hesitate to take them right then and there. Exposed in front of everyone to see and for anyone to partake, hm?"

Yes, yes, he would take that Guardsman. Josephus can already imagine it. He got their scent; all he would need to do was find them. Hunt for them. He wouldn't care if the Guardsman was on duty, having leisure time, in the mess hall, in front of their superiors; hell, the Lion himself could be in the same room as them, and he wouldn't care. Josephus could already imagine his confined cock desperately needing something tight, warm, satiable to penetrate after a long month of surviving and battling. Coming back to their fleet as he beelined for his favorite Guardsman. Crowd be damned, he was taking what he wanted. Ripping clothes, discarding armor, doing the barest minimum to ensure they didn't break once he shoved his fat cock into that wanting hole. Pride be damned, scattered like the shredded clothes, and his dignity being ranged in the echoing walls as he took want he wanted.

Asmodai was practically getting dizzy himself. A mortals scent is one thing, but the powerful hormonal stink of an Astartes was another thing. He can feel his cock straining against his power glove underneath his armor, begging for attention, for release. Asmodai practically thanked the helmet he wore did not expose his agape-ed look, even more so appreciating that Josephus was too far gone to even notice his light panting as he watched the young Astartes get himself off. He almost wanted to remove Josephus's hand and enjoy the sensation of the young Primaris fucking into his gauntleted hand into completion. But he had to stay strong, to bar himself from such temptatious desires; he's trying to set an example here.

He was close; they could both feel it. With the rapid thrusts into his own fist and the damning whines and moans Josephus was making, he could feel his heart(s) pumping rapidly as he could no longer withhold the floodgates of the inevitable.

"That's it. Let this vexing demon that overtakes you take over. Focus on that hot core that threatens to spill, Josephus. Show me your shameful sin! Show me how I can help you repel this spirit of lust."

Josephus comes with a muffled shout, inhaling and exhaling that seductive scent as his cock pulses with each spray of cum. Coating Asmodai's armor and the floor below them. Asmodai almost wishes he could cum with him, relishing in his lust with the young Aspirant. Letting him know that he, too, has desires that he attends to himself. Like a newborn doe, Josephus falls to his knees as he rasps for air, Asmodai having finally let go of his neck and stepping back from the boy. He does not care for the mess (at least, not yet) as he admires the sex-bewildered look of the Aspirant. How he struggles to breathe, his wide eyes seeing stars, it was definitely a spectacle to behold.

A short-term spectacle.

Asmodai gave Josephus one more minute to breathe before grabbing the back of his head and pulling him towards the exit of the Dome, cock still exposed and very much still hard.

"I must thank you for this demonstration of your guilt, younger brother. I know best now how to help you. And, after I'm done with you, perhaps we can help the rest of your brothers."

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Here's the Kinktober lists for anyone who wants to partake! Let's be extra horny this lovely October

The scent thing I added in mainly because of the warhammer discord server I'm in where a particular user (you know who you are) has been particularly interested in that Astartes stank, and so I decided to make a piece that goes along with that. Sorry if this is badly written, not really much of a smut writer (or a good writer in general but that's besides the point. It's 4 in the morning, I need sleep)