heabitfruity

[heabitfruity]

I swear I'm alive I'm just trying to write many things at once lol

#yeehaw

[heabitfruity]

FUCK YOU (literally) you get a Leman-Magnus sandwich. Well, it would be a you sandwich, with them as a bread. AAAAAAAAaaaah.

Summary: Sandwich. You are the meat. Leman and Magnus are the bread.

Word Count: 966

Content Warnings: SMUT, 2 Primarchs doing it (I don't see it as Primarch/Primarch shipping because the focus is on the reader), reader's got 2 holes but is referred to with gender neutral pronouns, impossibly large wieners, Leman's fat like the gods INTENDED, belly bulge, I'm letting the impulsive thoughts win this one, oh yeah also Leman has a knot because DUH

Image Credit: squishyowl (their focus is on the reader but I don't want you to be uncomfortable, so I'm not tagging you this time)

Leman's fangs glinted in the low light as he grinned at Magnus. He was pulling you down on him as you cried out, grasping his sides like a lifeline. He was big; taller than Magnus normally stood, and wide too. He was warm against you, inhumanly so, but it wasn't uncomfortable per se. You could hear a quiet hiss as Magnus gripped the sides of his chair, his hands smoldering. At this transgression, Leman opened his mouth to speak again.

"You can't join in until you get those flames under control," he chided between grunts.

You looked down at your belly. A bulge was beginning to show up, a bulge where Leman had entered you. You looked back up at him. He looked back down on you, as if feeling your gaze on him. Your face scrunched up as you tried to get out some words, but all that came out was incoherent moaning. Leman looked back up at Magnus as he pressed your head to him with his free hand.

""They don't need you, Mags," he said as Magnus glared at him. "They're doing just fine without you." "

You turned around for naught but a second before Leman pressed your head to his again as his knot entered you with a wet pop. You cried out before he took you up a little bit, throwing you up and down on him. Magnus shifted in his seat a little, growing ever so taller. He must've started at around 10 feet when he got here, now he was closer to 13. Hell, he might even be taller than Leman now.

Magnus said your name, his voice deep and penetrating. You shuddered, and Leman grabbed onto you harder. He repeated your name before he continued. "...will be fine."

"Let's ask them," Leman mused, stopping inside of you for a minute. "Hey, do you think Magnus should join in?"

Before you could say anything, Leman began to move your lips and speak in a high-pitched voice. "No, Leman, we don't need him, you're a much better lay."

Magnus simmered again as Leman chuckled and resumed activity. Before long, though, you heard a voice in your head. Magnus's voice. You looked behind you, confused as his lips remained shut.

"Do you want me to join in?" he'd asked you.

Before Leman could turn your head back, you'd nodded.

You could feel Magnus's smug grin on the back of your neck as he stood up from the chair. He sat behind you on the bed, slightly taller than Leman, and grabbed at your waist. He started to grind against your ass, already hard. You leaned back onto him. He was warm against you, close to burning hot but not quite there.

Leman grabbed you and pulled you in close to him again as he thrust harder and faster into you. He was growling, too, but he made no effort to push Magnus away. Magnus chuckled as he slid in behind you, steadily finding a rhythm with Leman. Magnus wasn't very big at the moment. Rather, he grew to accommodate the rest of him in time.

Your fists clenched and your head rolled back in Leman's arms as you climaxed around him, clenching him and spilling all over him. "Agh, fuck, Leman... Magnus..." you groaned, looking up at Leman.

"Hah! They said my name first," remarked Leman with a shit-eating smirk.

"They didn't cum when it was only you in the picture," said Magnus. You couldn't see it, but his expression was much more thoughtful, his singular crimson eye staring down at you with reverence. "It's quite sorry, actually."

Leman snarled at Magnus. "You tomato-headed fuck--" he started as one of his hands left you and curled up into a fist. As you grabbed for his hand, he looked down at you and cleared his throat.

"Maybe I'll knock your block off after I... we... finish," he said, wrapping his other hand around your head.

You could feel Magnus speeding up the tempo between the two of them, and you cried out. "Fuck... Magnus..."

"Ha!" shouted Magnus before biting his lip. "Nngh..."

"You're cumming, aren't you?" asked Leman. As if on cue, Magnus spilled himself in you with a loud grunt. He said your name with reverence and care as he finished. Leman, funnily enough, didn't fight Magnus as he kept you on him, throbbing into your backside before releasing you onto Leman.

Leman wasn't long either. He grunted over the top of your head as he came in you, his knot swelling to keep the sticky white liquid inside of you. He kept you on him, leaning down to rest his head on top of yours. You could feel his large body around you, pressing you to the bed as he lay down next to you.

Magnus shoved his way in behind you, back to around 10 feet tall. He wrapped his arms around you lower than Leman's, and pressed you back to him. You groaned, trying to flop onto your back, and the two of them released their arms far enough for you to do so. You wrapped an arm around each of them, even if they were so big against you.

"How are you feeling?" asked Leman, running his hand along your side.

"You both did great," you mumbled, staring at the ceiling while absentmindedly playing with their hair.

Magnus grinned. "Wonderful," he said.

"Although," you continued. "I might need a bit of pain meds in a little bit."

Leman and Magnus both instantly untangled their arms from you and sprinted towards the nearby bathroom. "I can give better aftercare, at least!" Leman exclaimed.

"Over my rotting corpse," replied Leman.

You rolled over, watching them with a slight smile on your face. They would be back soon, you knew.

Taglist: @bispecsual@justeverythingnothingelse@bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae@historitor-bookshelf

#i am having a completely normal reaction #(i am lying) #VNZVHZXJGFSJFHSGS #magnus the red #leman russ #primarch x reader

[heabitfruity]

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.

#leman #jhheehe #teehee #I need to give this man a kiss on the forehead IMMEDIATELY

[heabitfruity]

Hey.

Totally understand if you don’t want to make a part two, but something that’s been living rent free in my head since I read the Lion’el painting fic you wrote is what would happen if his lover potentially retuned somehow? Maybe she’d been on a ship that experienced warp shenanigans so it’s only been a few years since she disappeared from her pov, how he’d react to her return and how she’d handle the RADICAL changes to the imperium.

Preferred sfw but I don’t really mind

Totally fine if you don’t want to do a part two but I did want to express how much I loved the fic and make the request now that they’re open.

PS I love all your stuff so much

- 🍀

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙| 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Sequel to this request. You will probably need to read that to understand most of what happens here.

Author's note: Hey friend! Here's a little continuation of that fic, I hope you enjoy it <3

Relationships: Lion'el Jonson/Fem!Reader

Warnings: None really

Lion'el is disturbed from his what can only be described as meditation with the harsh slamming of ceramite boots on flooring, up until the door behind him is thrown open. LIon'el doesn't move as they force their way into the small room, his hands still on his thighs.

"Father!" They even forgo the proper respects, though he ignores it. He doesn't however, ignore their next words.

"She is awake!"

Lion'el's eyes snap open, and he's up to his feet in moments, pushing past his men with little regard. He knows they're following, though he couldn't care less if they did.

He only cares about one thing now.

Lion'el had been hesitant to tell any of his these Dark Angels about you, since waking. They had never even known he had a wife, only that singular relic had even clued them into the fact that he had anyone, besides his legion. The entire time they'd never known that mysterious woman had been beneath their feet; Much like himself, in a way.

It seemed whatever had cast him into an endless slumber had did to you much the same, not many years later. You'd commanded his men briefly in his stead, but one day, you fell the same as him. He'd never known you were so close until recently. He'd thought you dead and gone since he'd awoken.

He hasn't seen you awake since those days just after the Heresy, and only recently when you were still asleep; Now here you are, groggy and eyes wet, trying to pull your arm away from a concerned medicae. You stop however, once you catch sight of him.

"Lion?"

Your voice is hoarse, like a gravely whisper, you look at him like you have trouble thinking he's real. Perhaps he looks too different for you to instantly recognize him. He knows his beard is rougher, face is harsher. But his armor is almost the exact same.

He walks closer. Past his sons who have maintained a cautious barrier; They know little about you. He pushes through them despite complaints and reaches your side, where your legs dangle off the edge of a stone slab his sons had put you on ten thousand years ago.

His hands reach to cup your face, and your own grasp his armor, desperately trying to pull him into a hug. He allows it, feeling your tears on the skin of his neck.

He can see the look of confusion in his geneson's eyes. How they all look at him displaying such weakness. He knows how far gone down the path they've gone, how his words have been twisted and warped beyond even what he thought was reasonable.

You pull away from his neck but he still feels your small hands against the nape of his neck, weaving into his hair.

"Lion, what's happened? The last I remember, Horus and Lorgar had-" He quiets you quickly.

"I will explain everything to you." He turns to the medicae who is still hovering close by, but hasn't been able to continue his duty since being interrupted.

"How is she," Lion'el speaks bluntly. It takes the man a moment to regain movement of his tongue.

"She appears normal on every scan, considering all that has happened."

With that reassurance Lion'el goes to pick you up, carrying you as close to bridal style as he can given your difference in size. When he turns to take you away however, Azrael comes into view with his squad shortly behind him.

"Father!"

Lion'el had confessed to your existance once he'd visited you and noticed you shift in your sleep. He'd sent guards to watch you as you- at the time he had thought hopefully- began to wake, and Azrael had to then be let in on the secret that had been lost for ten thousand years. Azrael as he expected acted with suspicion, though had held back his thoughts at the time. Now he seems to decide not to.

He doesn't need to say a single word, the way the astartes' hand flinches tells Lion'el everything he needs to know about what him and his squad are thinking.

Lion'el looks towards his geneson with nothing but coldness.

"If your hand moves closer to the pommel of your chainsword I will not hesitate to kill you where you stand."

Azrael gawks at him like he's offended.

"Father, we should be cautious, you don't know what kind of warp trickery has-" Lion'el stands straighter, still holding you in your arms. You're drowsy, but still well aware of the standoff that is happening as you grasp his armor for stability.

"She is my wife. She is the legion mother of Dark Angels from before and after the Heresy, and she commanded your ancestors when I fell. I do not need you to tell me what I see."

Lion'el walks forward and his men give way to him, allowing their genefather to pass. He can feel Azrael's displeasure, but he doesn't care.

He walks away from them all, and they wisely choose not to follow.

"Lion, How long have I been asleep? All of your men, you..." You look around the halls as he walks. "Everything look so different."

Lion'el is silent for a moment, until he returns to his quarters and gently sits you down on his own bed. One of his gauntlets comes to rest on the nook between your shoulder and neck, awkward as he always was but reassuring.

"The same illness that took me, it took you as well." You look exactly how he remembers you, it's like not a day has passed. Since waking he's blocked out those detailed memories of you; The feeling of your skin and gentle look in your eyes. They hurt to remember, but now that he has them back he doesn't know if he could do that again.

"You've been asleep for ten thousand years. Same as I."

Your face is frozen in a confused shock, your breath quickens, though at some point you simply accept it. Or perhaps stow the feelings away to eventually explode when your brain isn’t so and confused.

Your hand pulls to try and bring him closer, and he puts a gauntlet in your lap for you to grip as a compromise. Your small hands wrap around his fingers, squeezing to reassure yourself as you talk.

"I missed you. Being with your legion alone, I don't know how to describe how it felt." You weren't meant to do such a thing, lead an army, and Lion'el laments having to put it on you. He's sure you did well in your time, what short amount of it there was.

"Are you tired?" He asks, and you uncharacteristically let out a laugh.

"Not to be rude, but I think I've had quite enough of that for a few lifetimes, apparently." Lion'el doesn't smile, but his face does soften.

Finally alone, he also leans in to take a gentle kiss from you, your soft lips on his own as his beard scratches your skin. It feels just the same as he remembered.

"Then come with me. I'll show you what else you have missed."

#gekayshsiryama6eg #jfzufzu7fgjxgjxj #lion #b #my good sir #hehehe #i need him #just a tiny kiss

[heabitfruity]

heabitbitchy

replace one word of your url with bitch

[heabitfruity]

curious about something (reblog to get a larger sample size!)

I chose the ones I've seen the most fics/love for since I can't do all primarchs

#WHERE ARE MY BOYS LEMAN AND LION? #they're sexy in my heart #teehee #i will say that i'd fuck almost all of them though #i just really really like Leman and Lion #i mean come on #look at them

[heabitfruity]

thoughts on sanguinius being chunky and like a strong man AND having another set of pecs for his wings.....

#SQUISHY PRIMARCH #AAAAAAAA #I love him #teehee #tibbiess

[heabitfruity]

Hi, I’d like to request a (nsfw) Perturabo x reader where you’re about to have sex with him, but you’re slowly realising from the way he’s anxiously going about it that he’s never had sex before. Perturabo knows, anatomically speaking, where the clit is, but he’s probably got no clue on what to do with it. (Also he’s probably trying so hard not to be an ass about it but he’s anxious and you’re so pretty and eager and what if he disappoints you and what if you call his sexual ability subpar and what if-) (he’s nervous. Basically)

I just feel like we often forget that a good number of the primarchs haven’t had sex before, which in my opinion could have some interesting implications in terms of x readers. Especially considering who they are and the possible stigmas around sex that they could have learned while on their various planets

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

A soft sequel to this request

Author’s note: I always jokingly quote Bricky when I say Perty is an Incel, so it’s nice I get to defeat the meme. Makes sense that most of the Primarchs probably wouldn’t indulge in such a thing at least often though, physical issues aside most humans tended to treat them like they were above them, which would probably be frustrating.

Anyways, I made sure to stay as close to your prompt as I could with Perturabo. I imagine he would NEVER let anyone see he wasn't a master at something, sex included. But don't worry, he worries internally plenty for you to enjoy I hope.

Summary: Perturabo returns to his new beloved, and indulges in an act he once deemed pointless.

Relationships: Perturabo/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Massive size kink, Perturabo is a little awkward but he tries to hide it, The creampie to end all creampies, A teeny bit of choking kink if you squint, Like 80% smut

Word Count: 2739 ...oops?

“Lord Perturabo?”

Hearing his name, he looks up to see a fresh faced Iron Warrior looking at him between two other of his elders. He hums as a response that he heard them, but that only seems to confuse him further.

“Should I repeat myself?”

Perturabo had hoped the three would take his disinterest in the matter as a tell for that they should continue their current plan, but he suppose they need his verbal approval on the matter.

“No. Take whatever tech priests aren’t already working on the issue and have them assist. I expect this to not be a problem for much longer.”

Throne knows we shouldn’t be waylaid for much longer.

The fact that they even had an engine issue to begin with upset the primarch immensely, but he’s been holding his tongue while it’s fixed. His legion has done nothing but aggravate him this entire mission, even more so than usual.

The three Iron Warriors nod and leave to follow his orders, and let Perturabo enjoy the room in silence once again. Apart from the hum of machinery and the buzz of a projection on the holotable, the room is finally quiet enough for him.

With a soft grunt of exertion he leans forward and places his hands against the edge of the massive table, and shifts uncomfortably in his armor as the issue that had distracted him previous makes itself known once again. It arguably aggravates him even more than this entire waylaid issue has been, his gauntlets gripping the table's edge tight enough that he feels it give way and crumbles underneath his hands.

Perturabo has never had such thoughts of sex take over so much of his head before. Especially ones that were unsolvable on his own, and lingered like some sort of infection.

If rarely the desire struck him and kept distracting him he could take a moment to himself, angrily yank himself to completion in the quiet of his own quarters- usually at his desk- before returning to his work, distraction quelled. It was transactional, just a bodily need to be dealt with before moving along.

But that hasn’t worked this time. He’s already tried and you still occupy his mind- still distracting him. It's all your fault, he should've never allowed you to get your nails into him this deep, deep enough that he can't tear them free.

He’s never felt this way before. He’s never felt any real desire to actually bring another person into his bed; If he needed that sort of release, he did it himself. To touch another, desire another, is new to him.

He knows you're soft, but how soft will you feel in his hands? Not just your own hand, but your entire body? He's never touched a woman before, had no reason to add another variable into his life that would largely serve to only distract him.

He wishes he could just rip all this armor off. He won't, but it's aggravating that now he's distracted enough to find it all inconvenient.

Once they repair the Iron Blood they can return to Olympia. Then he can see you and finally relieve himself of the stress you've put him under, scolding you for things you had no control over.

Unlike the days earlier when you were still working on his puzzle boxes, your workload now is significantly reduced. You mostly clean Perturabo's workshop and most personal quarters now, partly to keep yourself busy, and because he doesn't wish there to be anyone in there he doesn't trust.

He would have someone else he didn't despise to do it if you got bored of the work, the only reason he hasn't is because you seem to do it to keep your mind busy; Especially now that he was gone. He understands the feeling. He too hates it if his mind wanders too far off the path, hence why his workshop is so filled with random things he made when he felt himself drifting.

You enter the workshop and with significant effort close the heavy door behind you, before walking closer to him. He sits at his main workbench, a few partly rolled up plans the only thing in front of him of note. His shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, showing the scars on his arms hands as he leaned them on the table.

"How did it go?"

You say to him with a cautious look. You more than likely know that the Iron Blood was waylaid for a decent while, and you know faulty machinery is a core trigger for his mood to go quickly sour.

"I struggle to imagine a way it could have gone worse." He says with a monotone voice and blunt expression, which makes your lips purse- though before you can come up with a response he speaks again.

"Come here."

He gestures with one motion of his hand, and you walk closer up until you're standing right beside his chair.

It's still a bit surprising when he picks you up however; He's done it before, though the feeling of being lifted off the ground so easily is not a feeling done away with easily. He sits you onto his lap and you ignore the odd feeling in your chest about having been moved around so easily by him, looking down to see his thighs wider than your hips by a significant degree. Your legs dangle unable to touch the ground at this height; You look so small.

Leaning forward you pull some of the scattered blueprints closer to you, looking at them curiously.

"What are these for?"

Perturabo decides to placate at least one of your questions and ignore the ache between his legs for a moment longer.

"Drafts for the auto-targeting orbital defense cannons."

You hum and look at them, fingers brushing over the parchment. Perturabo watches as you lean forward, accentuating the curve of your spine and hips; Even with how light you are, he can also feel the way you soft thighs and ass press against him. He doesn't placate your questions any longer.

“Take it off.”

You’re clearly confused for a moment, taking your eyes away from his plans to look around.

“What? What do you mean?” You utter, before your body tenses as you feel his massive hand grip your waist.

“Take off your clothes.” Your hands suddenly begin to fumble with your dress, shaking. Perturabo settles to quicken the process forgo removing your dress, and simply push up the hem and tear off your underwear instead.

His hand wraps around your thigh easily, swallowing it in the massive expanse of his palm. His index finger slides between the crease at the very top of your thigh, and the closeness puts your lip between your teeth as your thighs instinctively move to close.

But the entire time his hand is less so teasing and more so, explorative. He has no destination in mind, and only lingers if he hears or feels you react to his touch.

He doesn't know how to touch you beyond the simplistic, what makes you sing. He'll learn silently, his pride would never allow him not to.

Pulling it away he moves his hand underneath you, yanking at his trousers. You hold his forearm for support until you see him finally free his cock, and it lays between your legs. You can just barely grind against it at this angle; but your bigger concern is its size.

Perturabo notices it too, but refuses to vocalize such a concern to you. He’ll make it work, he has too. He’s not sure if he would be able to survive if he couldn’t fuck you the way he’s been fruitlessly imagining to the point of being aggravatingly pent up.

His hand pushes between your legs, sliding against your folds and using his thick fingers to push them apart. You clench your teeth and lean back against his chest, feeling as he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your sitting angle forces him to curl his finger in order to slip it into you fully he quickly realizes, grasping onto his arm for support.

He hears you moan, cunt soaking wet as you sit in his lap, leaning against his chest as he teases you. He knows that you won’t be able to take him straight away, not with your difference in size. It doesn’t take much to realize your tiny, tight little cunt wasn’t meant for him.

“Can you take another?” He says, and you think he’s teasing, but you realize he’s asking a genuine question.

Perturabo slowly forces a second finger into you and you cry out as he stretches you further, but the burn quickly fades into a pleasurable ache that has your stomach feeling tight and legs limp and useless.

"I have been waiting since that pathetic excuse of a ship was waylaid," Perturabo hisses between his teeth and feels his nose wrinkle angrily. "You will take me no matter how long we have to sit here." The sounds of your breathless moans are more arousing than he thought possible, making his cock twitch between his own thighs.

“Lord Perturabo?”

Stirred from his trance watching his hand shift between your legs Perturabo turns to glare at the door, the deepness and distorted tone of voice queues him in that it’s one of his Iron Warriors.

“The Iron Blood is repaired, the tech marines wished to show you before officially declaring it fit for duty-“

Perturabo suddenly places his other hand over your mouth, continuing to drive his fingers into your cunt has he yells. The Iron Warrior shouldn't be able to hear the wet sounds of his fingers curling inside of you, but he would be able to hear your incessant mewling.

“I will advise it tomorrow. Now leave me be.”

Your thighs shake, hands pulling at the one he has over your lower face trying to catch a full breath though his palm doesn’t allow you.

“And do not bother me again this evening.”

The Iron Warrior, clearly confused as to Perturabo’s sudden shift in attitude, responds in understanding and quickly takes his leave. Once gone, he finally takes the hand away from your mouth.

“You liked that?” Your watery eyes can’t see his face, only barely through the reflections on the metal in front of you. “I felt your little cunt get tighter.” He pulls his fingers from you and reaches between your legs to grab his cock, shifting himself to press against your entrance. It doesn't take much for him to lift you up slightly and begin to lower yourself onto him, slowly slightly when he hears you gasp.

Even with preparation, it's still a tight fit, he quickly realizes.

As such it's a slow and arduous process to fit himself into you, feeling your nails bite into the skin of his forearms. When your bottom finally hits the fronts of his thighs again, you feel like you're so full that you won't be able to handle it. It settles not long after however, though the feeling of him being almost right into your stomach still prevails.

"Good girl,"

He mutters as your weight rests in his lap; It slipped from his lips unconsciously, but you seem to respond to it. He internally slaps himself for allowing words to tumble out of his mouth without thinking, and steels himself to hold others firmly within his head for the time being.

He raises you up and down on his lap, holding you firmly at the hips. To hold you but not bruise you is a fine line with his strength, though if he is bruising you, you don't seem to mind. Perhaps you don't mind if he's rougher with you. Your smaller hands grip his forearms to steady yourself, or simply to keep yourself feeling grounded.

You look tiny against his massive expanse of a chest, shoulders barely higher than his ribcage.

"Pertura- Bo,"

You stutter out his name, the hot palms of your hands desperately grabbing at him. He's using you almost like a toy, but it's the only way he thinks is safe; He doesn't know the line, how much a body like yours could handle before it breaks. He knows he hasn't reached it yet, your gentle voice cries for him, leaning back against his chest.

He watches your lips part in a pant, and he wishes to kiss them, but resists it. The angle would be impossible, and part of him feels, off about how much larger his mouth is than yours. He feels like he can't do it properly. Perhaps it's lack of practice; You were the first one he's kissed as well.

A lot of firsts, you were. Largely meaningless to him years ago, but now he finds himself caring a bit more.

He's silently thankful when you finally come, sharply inhaling and digging your nails into his skin enough to leave little crescent moon marks. They'll fade in a few moments, he doesn't care. What he does care about is the way you feel like a vice around his cock, his right hand pulls away from your waist, forms a fist and slams the table as his teeth grit together, unable to hold himself back any longer.

You thought your body felt hot before, but it's even more so as you feel him finish inside of you, so much of it that you feel it almost forced out by the size of his cock. It makes a mess on the tops of his thighs, though neither of you care.

He makes no effort to even pull out until your heart isn't audible to him anymore, and when he does, he hears your whine as your well abused cunt flutters at the empty feeling.

Part of him almost wants to get angry with you; He's never bothered with something like sex before but now after this, with you, he can already feeling himself want to get hard and fuck you all over again until you're limp in his lap.

A smarter part of him wishes he'd never done this, never met you, never kissed you, never fucked you. He would've never known what he was missing, and never loose focus.

However that part of his mind looses, when he feels you lie more against the expanse of his chest. He sighs.

"It is late. I will bring you to my quarters and you can sleep there."

He refuses to let you sleep in that tiny room you called home before. For his own selfishness, and your safely. Now that you're becoming so close to him, your safety is a must. Many will find you an easy target.

"My clothes Bo, let me-" You quickly shut your mouth when you realized you hadn't called him by his proper name. He doesn't comment on it.

He picks you up not long after, bringing you to his quarters at a much quicker pace than you could do on your own. A few of his men give him an odd look at having such a disheveled woman in his arms, but it only takes one look in return for them to right their gaze and move along.

"Are you not going to stay?" You say when he plops you onto his massive bed with a gentle toss that makes you smile, and turns to leave.

"Must I?" He says it laced in sarcasm, but he regrets it when he sees the smile he'd just put on your face instantly bleed away.

"I wanted to hear about your plans, for a little bit. It's been so long since the last time."

Perturabo had as of late shown you more of his private plans, many of them war machines. He'd begun talking a bit out loud, and his deep voice talking rumbled in your chest and always made you feel so warm and comfortable.

He enjoys that you just listen. You don't have an ego to protect like he does.

Perturabo steps closer.

"If I do, I expect you to stay awake." You nod and smile. "I'll try." He sits onto the bed, grips your cheeks, and forces you to look up at him gently. Your lips purse from his grip in a way he finds tempting, and he mentally blames you for the distraction once again.

"You will. I'll make sure of it."

#im not even a perturabo man but HELLO? #teehee

[heabitfruity]

Another note: Fulgrim would love anything by BABYMETAL, I completely forgot they existed and it must be mentioned

If Primarchs Had Spotify: Fulgrim Edition

Music that would play while Fulgrim is doing menial and tedious tasks; or perhaps doing a fun little work-out that doesn't involve space drugs. He is the silly gay white babygirl.

Note: This is not a representation of who he is, just simply what I believe Fulgrim would like

Judas by: Lady Gaga

Venus covered by: Bananarama

Bubblegum Bitch by: MARINA

Runaway by: Bon Jovi

Tainted Love, both versions by: Soft Cell and Marilyn Manson

BIBI Vengeance by: BIBI

Queencard by: (G)I-DLE

HOT TO GO! by: Chappell Roan

TiK ToK by: Ke$ha

Good Luck, Babe! by: Chappell Roan

Nude by: (G)-IDLE

Dance The Night by: Dua Lipa

Noel's Lament by: Brooke Maxwell, Kholby Wardell, Scott Redmond, The Ride the Cyclone World Premiere Cast Recording Ensemble

24 Hours by: SUNMI

The Ballad of Jane Doe by: Brooke Maxwell, Emily Rohm, The Ride the Cyclone World Premiere Cast Recording Ensemble

Look at Me by: TWICE

Killer Queen by: Queen

Tell Him by: Vonda Shepard (yes, from Ally McBeal)

Criminal by: Britney Spears

Wings by: Little Mix

minor note: Fulgrim would likely love all of Ride The Cyclone (I have not seen Ride The Cyclone, please don't sacrifice me)

[heabitfruity]

If Primarchs Had Spotify: Fulgrim Edition

Music that would play while Fulgrim is doing menial and tedious tasks; or perhaps doing a fun little work-out that doesn't involve space drugs. He is the silly gay white babygirl.

Note: This is not a representation of who he is, just simply what I believe Fulgrim would like

Judas by: Lady Gaga

Venus covered by: Bananarama

Bubblegum Bitch by: MARINA

Runaway by: Bon Jovi

Tainted Love, both versions by: Soft Cell and Marilyn Manson

BIBI Vengeance by: BIBI

Queencard by: (G)I-DLE

HOT TO GO! by: Chappell Roan

TiK ToK by: Ke$ha

Good Luck, Babe! by: Chappell Roan

Nude by: (G)-IDLE

Dance The Night by: Dua Lipa

Noel's Lament by: Brooke Maxwell, Kholby Wardell, Scott Redmond, The Ride the Cyclone World Premiere Cast Recording Ensemble

24 Hours by: SUNMI

The Ballad of Jane Doe by: Brooke Maxwell, Emily Rohm, The Ride the Cyclone World Premiere Cast Recording Ensemble

Look at Me by: TWICE

Killer Queen by: Queen

Tell Him by: Vonda Shepard (yes, from Ally McBeal)

Criminal by: Britney Spears

Wings by: Little Mix

minor note: Fulgrim would likely love all of Ride The Cyclone (I have not seen Ride The Cyclone, please don't sacrifice me)

#warhammer #warhammer 30k #warhammer 40k #fulgrim #primarch #40k #if primarchs had spotify #wh40crack. #wh40k

[heabitfruity]

hi! in the silly lorgar post you made about him praying before sex you mentioned you couldn’t find the post you were inspired by - i think it might be one of moodymisty ‘s posts if i remember right. it was an anon who mentioned him saying grace before giving head

sorry if it’s not the one you were thinking of, but i hope it helps :3

Aha! Thank you, mysterious friend! I shall credit them at once, you're a lifesaver :]

#thank you anon #warhammer #warhammer 40k #lorgar aurelian

[heabitfruity]

A handful of little Angron headcanons based off personal experience of mine..

Likely out of character but eh.

- putting on regular shirts (ie a tshirt) are a fucking pain. It's the fact that they're too soft and just rest there lightly against him that bothers him

- wears shirts that lace up at the front that he can put on like a vest

- sand irritates the Nails like you would not believe and salt water makes his scalp sting, but he's learnt to deal with it. Beaches aren't the best idea for holidays.

- can't lie down properly without the Nails bothering him. Pillows and beds are not the most pleasant experience for him but he will deal and compromise for you. He'll sit propped up against the headboard and keep an eye out for you as you sleep.

- doesn't sleep often and if he does, he sleeps propped up against the wall with his eyes open. It's creepy to see.

#Idea: give Angron a hammock #or maybe a sleeping pod that is super comfy

[heabitfruity]

Are you sure Lexicanum?

Rare remembrancer pict-capture of Magnus using biomancy to become Mangus

#Mango the Red #Magnus the Red #I hate mangoes

[heabitfruity]

Warning: Mild NSFW (Though Silly)

A silly horny thought, based off an idea from someone's tumblr but I cannot fucking find it so when I find that particular post I will credit them: Note: @moodymisty was the inspiration! (thank you anon and moodymisty) "Praise the Emperor, hallowed be his name-" You grabbed the Primarch's hands; attempting to pry them apart from his bizarre prayer. "Darling, Lorgar, please just fuck me normally." The request sounded absolutely reasonable to you, to have your partner lodged between your thighs was optimal. It was positively divine to be beneath him, that is true, but this was surely unnecessary. "Silence, my love, I must finish." Lorgar then paused, opening one eye to give you a scolding glance. "Thy Imperium come, Thy will be done on Terra..."

#lorgar aurelian #primarch x reader #primarch #warhammer 30k #warhammer 40k #wh40k #wh40crack. #warhammer #I genuinely thought the prayer was literally “Howard be thy name” for the longest time (I'm not christian) #Someone please help me find the original idea #I cannot find it #I know I follow them

[heabitfruity]

Horny Guilliman drabble/imagine I wrote like a month ago. 18+ mdni. Pretty out of character.

Imagine Roboute Guilliman in a pair of booty shorts. They're bright blue, white trimming, Courage and Honour across his fat arse in bold white lettering, he's not wearing anything underneath - they'd be too tight otherwise.

He's so flustered, I mean he's fine in the baths and general nudity, but when he's wearing clothes? Clothes are meant to cover up. Imagine offering to sit on his lap to help hide it and just slowly driving him insane because in order to hide it with your body, you'd have to sit on A) a weird angle or B) on it/directly in front of it. He's whiny and shaky by the end of it and you've barely touched him but he's bent over just that little bit and you can feel the way his chest shakes with a breath, he's internally at war with himself, he wants to pull you closer and have something to grind into properly but oh, he's in public!! Or, public enough to were he's embarrassed beyond belief. Poor baby is nearly begging by the end of it, words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them, he feels like he can't think, mumbling into your hair. Grind back on him and hear his breath stutter as he grabs your hips or legs, his pretty eyes flicking back for barely a moment before he decides to pull you closer, but hold you still. Can't risk him properly chubbing up, he'll break the shorts!

#its been a while since something on tumblr has made me audibly go “teehee” #hes such a silly guy

[heabitfruity]

Silly Hobbies: Primarch Edition

Apparently I wrote too much according to tumblr, so I'm sorry if it's choppy :[

Lion El'Johnson - He actually really loves analyzing "literature"; but not normal literature like Shakespeare or Kafka. He likes analyzing things like The U.S Constitution and The Treaty of Versailles. He does this because he thinks it will help him diplomatically (it doesn't, nobody gets why he does it otherwise, not even his sons).

Fulgrim - This man knows how to dance to every K-Pop song known to man. He can throw it back to "Baby Got Back" and has tried to teach Sanguinius and Ferrus Manus how (It didn't go well, Ferrus threw his back out ). This man knows the exact choreography to "Womanizer", "Nude" and so many other songs.

Perturabo - He likes making useless contraptions; like infomercial level sort of inventions. He has invented bread-dogs, a time-machine to go back exactly two seconds for each use, a voice-recording recorder, etc. He uses Dorn to test it out, despite their... feelings for one another. He knows that Dorn will give him a blunt answer; even if he is told that the invention is "stupid".

Jaghatai Khan - He's really good at acrobatics, specifically everything with the asymmetrical bars; this man could easily escape a pack of dogs with a pen in his pocket (If anyone gets this reference I will be so proud). He attempted to teach Angron how to do the basics, but it didn't go that well; the man is just simply not flexible enough yet.

Leman Russ - This is a secret that he will take to his grave because he suffers from major internal misogyny. He knows how to knit, and he's REALLY good. He grew up on a planet that is 75% of the time below zero, of course the second he got ahold of yarn and wool he got to making warm things for his marine-sons! However, he plays it off as things like: "the citizens of Fenris have donated these for our cause".

Rogal Dorn - He likes making massive forts, societies and various massive structures in Minecraft, with Legos, Lincoln Logs, and those small, ceramic Christmas towns. They're usually quite extensive, but not extravagant. He will pester Perturabo and Magnus to look at them, and this often leads to debates about how these civilizations would function.

Konrad Curze - He teaches cooking classes; however, they are not pleasant. At the end of meal prep, all students are covered in blood due to Konrad butchering whatever protein they had prepared. The food actually tastes amazing, however the process of making it is certainly a battle within itself. Sevatar is his sous chef, which means he frequently has to do most of the work that isn't butchering.

Sanguinius - Honestly, animal rehabilitation. I know this sounds absolutely odd, but due to him having wings, he has to know how to keep a healthy batch of feathers! He's excellent at bird handling, and actually really enjoys it. He's saved at least 54 birds (he doesn't get to find many, his sons typically try to steer him away).

Ferrus Manus - Dude actually makes some really mean jewelry; like the man makes the permanent ankle chains, ring engravements, earrings (with the help of Fulgrim). He's made a lot for his brothers like Leman, Fulgrim, Magnus, and the Khan. They're all very appreciative (though Ferrus has to make Leman a special mixture so he doesn't chew through it by accident).

Angron - He does extreme sports! It helps focus on something that doesn't direct his anger at things that he doesn't need to focus on. It's somewhat funny to think of him riding a BMX, but his absolute favorite is bungee-jumping! He has forced demanded that his sons and brothers try it to "toughen them up". However, nobody except Konrad wanted to. (They both had a great time! One of the few times they've actually bonded over anything.)

Guilliman - He enjoys grading papers... He enjoys signing up to grade the essays of AP classes on Terra and does it every year if he has the time. He takes the pleasure of learning things about literary merit from other people's perspectives, and every time it makes him consider becoming a professor (even though it would be highly impractical).

Mortarion - He enjoys escape rooms, especially with Konrad and Horus. They actually usually have a great time, though sometimes they have to stop Konrad from digging into the walls. He actually commissioned Perturabo to make an elaborate escape room with hatches and secret pathways all around a set of shipping containers. It was so fun that he actually decided to keep it. (He still discovers new routes and puzzles in it every time he goes in.)

Magnus the Red - He plays Dungeons and Dragons with Khan, Guilliman, Perturabo and Alpharius and Omegon. He ALWAYS is the Dungeon Master, no matter what. This is not because he is selfish and possessive (he is a little), but because nobody in the group can seem to maintain a regular gaming schedule. They have simply resorted to Magnus being the godly controller of their games.

Horus Lupercal - This man fishes. I'm sorry, he does the straight, white man fishing and poses. He takes pictures of the fish with the awkward raised arm but genuine smile. He sometimes gives the fish to Konrad, however, less so after finding out from his students what happens during his classes.

Lorgar Aurelian - He writes fanfiction. He likes to show Magnus and Horus his angsty stuff. This stuff is even enough to make Magnus cry a little. Lorgar, however, also writes smut. I believe that this man has never had the intimate touch of any person. Not because he's celibate, but because he's a bitch. The smut's written like in the early days of Wattpad. It's disastrously bad (Think "his meat-cicle entered her mound"). Leman found it one time, he tormented Lorgar for weeks with it.

Vulkan - He bakes! He has learned all the favorite sweets of all of his brothers, making sure to surprise them occasionally whenever they haven't spoken in a while. He loves it whenever there are big events, gives him a chance to see all of his brothers and see them enjoy his work. (There have been some small altercations due to people hoarding food)

Corvus - He likes fashion; but not in a New York fashion week way, more of an Edna from The Incredibles way. He uses the help of Ferrus and Leman to help sew cloaks, shape up boots, and they use Sanguinius and Fulgrim to model it to make sure it looks good and it works.

Alpharius Omegon - They like mimicking their brothers as much as possible; in a "try to look exactly like them" way. It is actually really impressive, even going past the uncanny valley vibe. This led to Mortarion walking in on two versions of himself standing at his bedroom door and it made him piss his pants; and nobody believed him when he told the rest of them.

#warhammer #warhammer 30k #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #lion el'jonson #fulgrim #perturabo #jaghatai khan #leman russ #rogal dorn #konrad curze #sanguinius #ferrus manus #angron #roboute guilliman #mortarion #magnus the red #horus lupercal #lorgar aurelian #vulkan #corvus corax #alpharius omegon

[heabitfruity]

PRIMARCHS AND PRAISE KINKS

I had an ask, but it got deleted because this site sucks. Sorry anon. NSFW under the cut.

LION EL'JONSON- Words do nothing for him. Tie him up. Restrain him. Run your hands along him, stopping before you reach his nether regions. Watch him say nothing, but meet your eyes. Pleading with you to touch it. Graze it. You tell him to touch it himself, running your hand up him again before caving and touching it yourself. "Good boy," you said, even though words did nothing for him.

???- Could a concept have a praise kink?

FULGRIM- Doesn't need to be praised. He knows he's not just the highlight of the occasion, he is the occasion. Will always welcome more praise, though. Tell him how well he's taking it. He loves getting pegged, he loves showing himself off to you and letting you rearrange him. He was perfect, and he knew it.

PERTURABO- Did you even need to ask, lmao. He wants to know how good of a job he's doing, he craves validation like nobody else. He needs to know that you're having as good of a time as he is, if not better. Go on. Tell him how good of a job he's doing. Tell him how perfect he looks, spread out underneath you. Watch him tremble, shrivel, melt under your touch. There's a look in his eyes that tells you he wants, needs more. And you're happy to give it to him.

JAGHATAI KHAN- Normally ends up on top even if you're the dominant partner, because you simply can't go as fast as he does. Whew. Breathlessly, you tell him how well he's doing, and he responds by going even faster. Your hands are intertwined with his, and you can barely get any more words out.

LEMAN RUSS- He's more of an exhibitionist, but that paired with a praise kink? Wow. Tell him how well he's doing in front of all of the Space Wolves. All eyes are on you, darling. He's howling, but in between yowls you're able to get in some praise. Oh, look at how well he's giving it out!

ROGAL DORN- This man is a brick wall, but when he finally lets loose... oh boy. Tell him that it's okay, that he can let loose. For you. He grunts as his tongue moves faster and you tell him how well he's doing, how hard he's going. Wrap your legs around his head. Maybe pull his hair while you're at it.

KONRAD CURZE- Underneath you lies a man so broken that he can barely register your praise. But you try. On the Emperor, do you try. When he puts a curious finger in you, it hurts, but you hide it the best that you can. "Good boy," you manage to croak out, and the man underneath you softens.

SANGUINIUS- He can understand you for the first few minutes. His wings twitch, there's a feral look in his eyes, and you can see his fangs inside his slightly opened mouth. He's far too big to go between your legs, so he's got two fingers going in and out. He's focused on you, on your pleasure. He's got one hand holding you close to him, one going in and out. You're melting in his arms.

FERRUS MANUS- He's not much into words, but he'll indulge you. He'll chuckle as you say that he's doing a good job. "Thank you," he'll say awkwardly. You eventually decide that words aren't for the two of you, and instead decide on sensory play.

???- Praiser? Hardly know 'er! *slips on a banana peel*

ANGRON- Let's be honest, Angron's never going to properly reconcile himself with a praise kink no matter how well you say he's doing. He wants to please you, to meet your advances with something reciprocal, but the nails get in the way. Every time he processes praise, the nails submerge him in abject pain.

ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN- Roboute's a little funny about praise, mainly because he doesn't think that he deserves it. So lay it on thick. Watch as his face goes bright red and he tries to hide it from you. You turn his face back to meet yours, and he's an absolute wreck. Tell him that he has to face it, that he's doing quite well despite everything. Watch him slowly accept himself.

MORTARION- This man is an absolute mess. He folds under the lightest praise, even if it isn't sexual. And now that he's underneath you, coming undone at the slightest upturn of your lips. And when those words finally leave your mouth, when it's aired out in the open how well he's doing, the Pale King unraveled.

MAGNUS THE RED- He's definitely pulling some warp bullshit while you're going at it, but you feel it falter with your words. You smirk at him and repeat your words. The warp shenanigans are still going, but they're much weaker. You put a hand in his hair and stroke his head. He may have found something out about himself that he didn't know.

HORUS LUPERCAL- Do you really want to inflate his ego? You do? Okay... he doesn't need to know that he's doing well from your words. Your stutters, your moans are far more than enough to let him know he's doing well. He asks if you want more, if you need anything else. You tell him what you need, and he's more than happy to satisfy you.

LORGAR- He'll be the one praising you, darling. Even if you're the dominant one in the relationship, you'll never get away from the sound of the one who loves you. Reveres you. Worships you. He'll tell you how well you're taking it, or giving it out, whether you like it or not. Best to try to slip it in between his words.

VULKAN- He may seem bright and bubbly on the outside, but Vulkan needs to be told that he's doing well sometimes. That's where you come in. He's close to tears once you start to do this with him, and you're nowhere near stopping. When you're done, he wraps you in the biggest bear hug of the millennium. Well done, darling!

CORVUS CORAX- Corvus isn't the best at communicating what he likes, so you have to guess what he likes most of the time. When you start to praise him this time around, you notice something in his eyes that wasn't there before. You grin, and lay it on thicker. He can't bring himself to look at you, but you can tell he is enjoying it.

ALPHARIUS- It's hard to tell with him. He doesn't make as pronounced of facial expressions as the others. He's so used to espionage and subterfuge that it's hard for him to process genuine praise. But once you get going, you can see him start to crack a small smile. You win.