#space marine x reader
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𝕱𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝕾𝖆𝖑𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊
𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Proceeds to do anything, but work on the WIPs*
𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.
𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗:
Маленький целитель - Little Healer(Russian)
TW // SMUT/NSFW, Noncon and Dubcon, Anal, Overstimulation, Mating Press, Massaging? Yandere Themes, Death, Body Horror.
“Svi” is what she called him, nicknamed him. His original name being far too difficult for her to pronounce. Always managing to mispronounce “slav” at the end of his name “Sviatoslav.” He couldn’t tell if he should be angry at her or not for it, and at first he was.
He was grumpy that he had a human helping him on his recovery. Helping him wrap his flesh wounds. Helping him reconstruct and rewire the bionic parts of himself. Not that she had good enough technology to repair it, but he wasn’t one to whine if it improved his helpless position at the moment. He can always upgrade the work done on him when he was back steadily on his feet.
Though, he would grumble and hiss lowly every time she would try and help him. Turning his body away from her as much as he could from her approaching organic hands. The metal pistons replacing his stomach groaning in protest.
He was already injured enough, he was in no shape or form to move after he got jumped by a warband of feral marines. Their goal to leave him spewing his own lifeline on the forest floor as they were successful of smashing their gauntlets in between his armor and ripping them off like some scavengers. It pained him, it felt like his own limbs were being torn apart and they might as well have been if he hadn’t learned about their group and his heavy warfare tactics. He was barely alive when he found himself in the humans… shed, taking a rest there or his death bed if it wasn’t for the human to find him in their shed.
He questions nightly why the human would save him, an Iron hand. He knows they were not the most pleasing to be around considering their passive-aggressive behavior. Throne, even he was being aggressive towards her, he knows he is, but he doesn’t do anything to correct it. Not when she growls back at him to stay put.
It silence him the first time she got fed up with him moving away from her. Hissing and puffing up at her when she suddenly snarled at him, telling him to stop moving or else she would switch a wire in him. Not that would do much to him and mildly irritate him, but it was the bravery of her saying such demands, such threats to him. He actually stayed still the first time since she started his recovery process. His eyes carefully watching her work delicately across his organic skin and between his bionic parts. How come he didn’t notice her grace before?
He watches her intently everyday then. Ever so silent with a few growls and hisses here and there when she touches a sensitive nerve between flesh and metal, but he doesn’t move away from her. He awaits for her to return to him three times a day, giving him meals to savor on his organic tongue. Sometimes, it’s a little untimely for her arrival that he gets agitated, but she always manages to show up when he was just about to make a move himself to find her.
Within these times of his recovery by her hand. He learns to like, even love her appearance. His hearts in his chest beating just a bit more when he sees her, then deeply ache when she leaves him. It confused him at first until he remembered that “bonds” were a thing in this world.
Was this his bonded? Or was this some sort of psyker trickery playing on him? No, he had way too much self-discipline to have tricks played on him. This was a calling, for him. This bond was his, wholly his. He knows it.
He made her stay with him a night after she delivered his last meal of the day. His half-worked metal arm shooting out and wrapping around her waist and pulling her in his lap. Bringing her back flush against his torso as his metal fingers lightly left tiny circles on her clothed skin above her stomach. Feeling how she slowly relaxed in his embrace. A bit unsure at first, but she leaned back to rest on him rather than leaning away from him.
He sits there, dozing there for a while. His nose nuzzling the top of her head, thinking, enjoying her scent that brought him sudden comfort to his senses. His fingers still circling on top of her clothing until they stop, simply resting on top of his bonded.
His eyes suddenly snap open in a glare and he snarls when he feels her trying to escape his grasp, his willing embrace. Her smaller figure freezing up in her movements to leave him as he shifts in his spot. His form curling over hers while his arms wrap around her torso and pull her back to him, feeling her plush breasts under her layers of clothing. His head leaning down and nuzzle into the side of her neck, his want to just nip at her skin rising as she side eyes him.
“I have someone else to attend to you know.” She mentions and he honestly doesn’t care. He has smelt that other human on her. Not exactly a partner nor a friend, but he can smell the faint whiff of the… attraction this human had for his bonded. His Маленький целитель(little healer.)
He growls in her ear when she makes another attempt to move anyway for him. His hands lightly gripping the sides of her body, pressing into her clothing in a warning. Her scent changing there for a second before she huffs at him, wiggling and settling back into his lap.
“Fine.” She grumbles back at him, shifting in his lap again. Agitating him as he almost growls again, but it turns into a quiet purr as she nuzzles up against his exposed neck. Her arms wrapping up and around his shoulders as much as she could. Settling his their little disagreement.
His hearts ache once again as she leaves him in the cold morning. A reassuring coo falling from her lips. Promising him of her return while a whine of his own nearly left his throat as he swallows it down. His tongue ruffly pressing up against the back of his teeth.
He… he needed more.
He doesn’t know what got into him when he finds himself rising off the dusty ground. His head nearly having a wooden beam above him take him back down, but he proceeds, leaning through the old doorway of the shed. The pistons in his body feeling remarkably better and moveable than the first time he’s tried to move before.
His Маленький целитель(little healer) has gotten better in repairing his bionic attachments. His flesh wounds were no match for her, having healed up quickly with his healing factor. Throne, he should reward her for taking him under her delicate hands just as she was rewarding him with another life. He knows she could have killed him right there, on the spot, but she never held anything towards him. She was… patient with him.
His tongue twists when he picks up the fresh scent of the male through the air, his eyes narrowing at the sudden smell of him. He has never smelt the male so close before. Was he hunting? But it didn’t seem like this one was the type to hunt, he was more like a lazy human, incompetent. Was this male perhaps following his Маленький целитель?(little healer?)
Oh, that thought made him flex his iron hand. A soft shink coming off each finger.
His pistons work hard for him to move at a quick, but stalking pace. Still needing the appropriate parts to work efficiently that only he can get, but he’s silently grateful for the his Маленький целитель(little healer) work or else he wouldn’t be able to protect her.
That word, “protect” screams at him mentally. Urging him to overwork himself to find himself at the edge of his Маленький целитель(little healer) nest. He was sure he would be a thing of steaming metal if he didn’t stop to scope out her nest in front of him. Looking for all the possible exits and opportunities someone might “sneak” in.
He lowly growls into the cold, morning air. A cloud of his exhale and steaming joints surrounding him, his body too hot for the air to cool him off. His eyes searching over the nest for an obvious opening, and he finds an open back door.
He shoots forward when a surprised shout comes from inside of the house. His figure quickly crossing the yard and leaning through an open back door of the nest. Chuffs and clicks coming from him as he stands still for a moment inside of the nest to hear where the commotion is coming from. His head snapping into the pinpointed direction before his body makes a move himself.
“Y-you are not supposed to be here.” He hears his Маленький целитель(little healer) swallow as he comes around an archway, leaning down through it.
“I was worried for you! I keep seeing you go out back of your house, and you usually return before 12, but you didn’t last night!” The male in front of his Маленький целитель(little healer) speaks, twirling an object in his hands.
“You’ve been stalking me?” His Маленький целитель(little healer) questions, keeping her eyes on the male as she slowly backs away from the ever approaching male. The object in his hand becoming a type of knife.
“Now that makes me sound bad!” The male whines, stepping closer. “I was just making sure you and your house was protected!”
“I think, me and you are thinking two different things.” She states.
“No, we are thinking the same things.” The males tone suddenly changed. Sviatoslav fingers slowly moving in anticipation.
“No, we are not.” She rejects boldly.
“Yes, we are.” The male argues, flipping the knife once more in his hand. Stalking forward, oh so stupidly towards his Маленький целитель(little healer.)
He shoots out of the dark then. His iron hand dragging the smaller male up to his much higher level. His silver eyes glaring dangerously down into the males fear stricken eyes. A hiss rumbling through Sviatoslav teeth as the male struggles in his firm hold, his knife stabbing at his iron arm, creating sparks.
Sviatoslav wants to throw the corrupt male across the room. Smash his head through a wall, but he also wants to make sure this… boy stays dead and what’s better than to do that with his own bear hands?
Forcefully putting the male back down on his feet. His hands wrapped around his jaw before pushing through the males mouth, breaking some of the males teeth out to do so as he cry’s out in pain. The males tears running down his cheeks as his fingers positioning on the roof of his mouth and the bottom of his mouth and then he pulls.
The sickening snap of his jaw being ripped from his head cracks out. His once white teeth intact to the jaw, now bloody and flying throughout the room, little tinks sounding across the wooden floorboards. His head, now with no jaw bleeds down the front of the body, pooling below where the body still stands before the knees give up, kneeling below him before flopping to the side. A pool of blood surrounding the twitching body.
Sviatoslav simply rumbles at the sight, throwing the bottom jaw in his hand back to the dying body. The jaw bone cracking underneath the force of his throw.
When he turns back around to see his Маленький целитель(little healer) he purrs quietly at her shocked form, attempting to soothe her as her eyes looked between him and the body that occasionally twitches in its own pool of blood, on her floor, just behind her countertop. He coos at her again, curling his towering form around her and nuzzles into her neck. His breath fanning against her skin as flakes of cold blood touch her skin, sending a shiver through her body. His hands settling on her hips, tracing tiny circles on them.
“S-Svi.” She whispers to him, finally choosing to look at him instead. Her heart pounding in her chest as he gently pushes her towards the island in the room and she hesitantly obeys. Whether it was by shock or not, he still gives her a pleased grumble before he turns her around and softly pushes against her back with his iron hand. His hands pressing down into the curve of her spine as she leans down onto the countertop.
He can smell her uncertainty at his actions, previous and now. How she tenses up when he drags his hands down the more softer parts of her body. How her breath is more quieter than usual.
He leans his body down on top of her. His chest pressing against her back as he softly nuzzles and chuffs quietly at the back of her neck. Attempting to soothe his Маленький целитель(little healer) again.
He knows he has killed someone right in front of her and it’s reasonable for her to be… concerned with him, but he wants her to know he won’t do such a thing to his savior that gave him another chance of his life. He wants to protect and heal her just as she did to him. He wants to show her that she can trust him just as he trusted her to not kill him when she could have.
His hands tug at the loop holes on her pants. His chest rumbling against her back as he starts to kiss at her neck and shoulders. His hips pressing up against her *ss as he eyes how her hands tighten and loosen, still unsure with him.
He stops and coos questionably when she slowly sighs underneath him. His form leaning up to watch as she shimmy’s out of her pants and underwear, letting them lay at her ankles. Her cheeks highlighting from the light above them.
“Just… not through my folds, alright?” She tells him, her face turning red at his staring, unable to make eye contact with him.
He purrs loudly this time, unlike his usual quiet purrs. He body leaning forward again to capture her lips in his, a surprised gasp coming from her as his hands presses and grips her butt cheeks together.
His tongue slips pass her teeth and overwhelms her mouth with his, claiming anything hers as his. His hand fiddling with his cod piece as he works on making his Маленький целитель(little healer) breathless, dizzy on him by just his mouth. Her hand resting on his lower jaw encouraging him.
Leaning back from his Маленький целитель(little healer) to let her breathe. A string of their saliva connected their mouths together until Sviatoslav pressed his chest back into her back, his teeth lightly nipping at her neck and shoulder as she leans back down on the countertop.
Finally freeing his c*ck, he uses her and his arousal to coat his c*ck as lube. Teasing her wet folds with his length as his hands grip and massage her cheeks, opening up her pulsing *ss for him. His c*ck slowly dragging back and forth between her folds before pressing onto her unyielding hole. He had to push a little harder before he popped into her hole with a ‘plop.’
He groans as she whines breathlessly underneath him, her hands immediately gripping the other side of the countertop. Her breaths coming in short the more he slowly edges himself into her tight hole. Her walls pulsing around him, trying to push him back out.
“Svi…” She whines quietly at him. His hands massaging her skin and muscles in order to relax her smaller body, his hands nearly wrapped around her waist fully.
Such a small little thing, he rumbles to himself. Waiting on her to relax before he can start to thrust into her. He doesn’t what to ruin her just yet despite her body tightening around him as he groans again.
She huffs against the counter top when he starts to move, her body rocking with him. Still a bit tight, but he wouldn’t want it any other way. He loves how she tightens around him, how she claws at the countertop to support herself. Not like he was gripping at her hips himself, like she was going to leave him, move away from him. His nose nuzzling into the back of her neck as well.
“S-Svi…” She moans when he goes a little deeper, a little faster that he has her on her tippy toes. Groaning up at him, begging him to rail her again and again and he can’t help but oblige. Growling into her ear as he leans over her some more, putting her into a type of mating press against the cold countertop.
His hands drag along her thigh with his lips suckling on her neck before he picks up her leg and puts it on the countertop for more access into her hole. His hands coming back up on her hips to keep her in place.
She gasps and chokes on thin air as he “slips” out of her and through her wet folds. A squelch-like sound coming out as he buries himself to the hilt before dragging back out. Her body jerking forward in surprise as he pulls her back down on his c*ck with a growl. Her body shaking around him as her toes curl.
“Svi! Svi!” She cries at him. Her hands patting back at him, wanting him off of her and he snarls next to her ear at her. His iron hand coming up to thread through her hair and pin her head to the countertop as tears run down her cheeks. Slobs wreaking through her body.
See what happens when one will try and court you? Try and take you away from me Маленький целитель?(little healer?)
He continues to snarl and growl at his Маленький целитель(little healer) when she try’s to push him off of her. His iron grip never letting her move away from him as he listens to how she cry’s and mewls at him at the same time. Indecisive of she wants to do.
“Svi, p-please!” She begs at him, almost unable to form words to him. Yet he just snaps at her neck in return.
Let him reward you just as you rewarded him, Маленький целитель.(little healer). Let him take care of you and heal you now.
His Маленький целитель(little healer) cry’s out as he burys himself to the hilt. One hand coming up to stop her hand from gripping onto a near by butter knife as he purrs almost darkly in her ear. His other hand keeping her still as she tries to wiggle away from him. His c*ck pumping his seed into her womb as she tenses up beneath him. Her head throwing back as she bites her lip to quiet her moans.
He lowly moans himself as he could feel his seed leak from her hole and around his c*ck, only to puddle down the inside of her thighs and down into her clothing at her ankles. His lips continuing to lap at her sweating neck, tasting her salty sweat on his tongue.
“…Siv.” She heaves breathlessly at him. Her head trying to nuzzle him back as he chirrs lowly, but happily. Then he chuckles as she gasps out again when he snap his hips forward, back into her throbbing core.
Throne, he’s going to have her anywhere he pleased. The kitchen counter top, the wall, the flooring, the dinner table, the top of the couch, the bathroom wall, outside, the nest, in front of the dead man. He was not stopping until he is done. Until his Маленький целитель(little healer) passes out in his arms. He had to reward his Маленький целитель(little healer) after all. For taking such good care of him when he was at his lowest.
Let him take care of you now, Маленький целитель.(little healer).
#space marine husbandry sentience#warhammer 40k#fanfiction#x reader#reader insert#space marine#space marine x reader#adeptus astartes x reader#adeptus astartes#iron hands#oc: sviatoslav#tw: smut#tw: yandere#tw: dubcon#tw: noncon#tw: overstimulation#tw: body horror#tw: death#monogamy#oh…his storyline got dark quick#rut time for the iron hand?#he got a wii bit eager#I miss the wii#puns are not intended
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Author's Note: Inspired by this post. You can blame all of the unhinged horniness there for this unhinged horniness. Someone there put the idea down as space wolves or Luna wolves and I chose Luna wolves because @bispecsual gave me the brain rot. And since I'm a massive masochist, I write.
Relationships: Like five unnamed Luna Wolves/Fem!Reader
Warnings: Vaguely NSFW, Very hornily charged bullying, Astartes are very curious and grabby, Demeaning speech, Just imagine you're that one girl on the couch in the meme surrounded by massive dudes but those dudes are 8 foot tall genetic abominations, Gangbang implications(?) my warning tags are getting weird as fuck
To the Luna Wolves, serfs are a new idea- a curiosity.
But after their good deeds upon a planet of little known renown and placement in the galaxy, a few of their population offered to serve them.
Before them, most serfs were primarily stationed on Terra, and on Luna Wolves ships instead those roles were given to low ranking tech priests, or penal labor. Even then however the Astartes saw them rarely, until now.
Some of the newly conquered planet offered sons as aspirants, of which they eagerly accepted. The Luna Wolves have been eager to grow their numbers now under Horus’ leadership.
Others, older and ablebodied, offered themselves to serve as serfs.
Many Luna Wolves can't remember the last time they've seen a normal human for more than a few moments, ushering them to safely into a Stormbird or pushing them from a firefight. Or seeing their corpse flung on the far reaches of a battlefield, out of sight and mind.
In their brief periods of reprieve from battle, it's now been a struggle for their captains and lieutenants to keep their men on task, now that serfs scurry around them completing various tasks. Particularly for the youngest marines among them, it's been a constant to stop them from reaching towards the serfs, interrupting their sanctioned duties.
They will get to you once finished with your brothers, is what the current quartermaster on duty or Astartes captain says. Though haste to have their armor cleaned or bolter clips loaded isn't the thing on their mind, but instead an almost dog-like curiosity.
But after their superiors leave, they always end up crowding around you again. These astartes have barely seen baseline humans in decades, let alone a woman.
It's suffocating.
You were nothing on your home planet. Insignificant. You’d hoped joining them would bring you purpose, something to be proud of. And to get off the planet that had you feeling so trapped. And while you got your wish, in a way the thing trapping you had merely changed form.
They have you cornered in the armoring room now; Like Wolves. You went from trapped on that no name planet to trapped by five different astartes. Your palms feel hot and sweaty, but not as hot as your face.
“You’re so small, you’re going to get lost on the ship,” One says.
He grabs for your chin and holds it for a moment, forcing you to look into his grey eyes. they're stoic, but you can see he's enjoying something about this. Though he allows you to shrink away and out of his grip, looking downward at their chest armor. Or anywhere else that isn't their faces.
“Or trampled,” Says another. The one who spoke previous gives him a sour look before passively aggressively replying.
“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”
One who hasn't spoken yet has his top armor removed, his lower half unpowered. He was training, using it as dead weight. Training concluded blood now drips down from his nose and lips but is mostly dried, partly covered healing bruises. If he looks like this, you can't help but wonder how his opponent looks.
It’s distracting.
You don’t know if it’s some sort of illness or insanity from being locked in this ship for so long; It makes him look more attractive. You hope to whatever deity or god or whatever exists out in the stars that he doesn't notice you’re staring. That he doesn't notice the way your heart is pounding in your chest and what feels like your cunt as well.
He does. As do the others. You can't kid yourself and think that with their hearing and smell that they haven't noticed that you're boiling alive, and that your body is screaming fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me-
“He won. Out of one hundred men.”
Your gut twists and the marine behind you laughs quietly. It's deep, enough so that you swear you can feel it in your chest. You would squeeze your thighs together for some relief, but you don’t think you can without stumbling over.
“She likes the winners. Looks like you’re out.” He gestures to a fellow marine that gives him another sour look. You briefly wonder what he lost at to deserve such a jab.
“I should return to my duties,”
You meekly say, hoping to remove yourself from the embarrassment and scurry away to another quarter of the ship.
One of them blocks your path and traps you from leaving, picking you up by the armpits and holding you before putting you back down between them all. It's like you weigh nothing to them, and that they can simply jostle and swing you around like a toy.
“I’ll tell your quartermaster you were helping us.” He jerks his head in the direction of a marine clad in only the casual clothing they wear out of their ceramite. Now the focus of your attention he rolls his shoulder, and you can see the muscles of his neck and around his collarbone flex.
You swallow a knot in your throat that felt like it was going to choke you. Your hands clench tight, nails sharp against your palms. You're going to have a heart attack, you swear it. Tears well in your eyes but they don't break your waterline just yet, from sheer will alone. If any of them say another word, call you cute, small, soft, that you smell so sweet, you swear they’ll roll down your cheeks like a waterfall.
“He wants you to put on his armor. The others are always so rough, you’re so gentle with those little hands.”
The marine reaches for you, and in your back step you stumble and accidentally bump into the one who hasn't spoken at all; Just watching and sitting. You stumble over his massive armored boot and end up falling into a sit on his thigh, legs parted over it. His massive armored hand comes to grip your waist, to keep you from falling over. It covers a good portion of your stomach in the process.
You’re so tightly wound just the simple pressure alone is enough to have you clamp a hand your mouth to avoid letting out a moan that would kill you right then and there, if you weren’t already dead. Your knees quiver, toes just barely touching the ground. His massive height makes it impossible to fully stand with his thigh between your legs.
You know they can smell the way you’re leaking and staining your underwear, hear the way your heart is racing like it's going to explode. You’re half afraid you might make his ceramite thigh plate slick.
You can feel their eyes on you. They look at you like you’re food thrown to a pack of starving wolves.
One suddenly steps forward, and pushes his battle brother out of his way with a harsh slam of ceramite on ceramite before undoing the latch his belt.
“I go first.”
#Sevatar daddy bully me until I c- what who said that#space marine x reader#warhammer 40k x reader#reader insert#reader#mywriting
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‼️NSFW NOTICE‼️
Just a simple Grey knight x reader R18
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I need to be folded like a lawn chair while big Black Templar man breeds me for all he's worth.
*cracks knuckles also pauses work on another boy*
Alright ya'll are getting Brother Roland again because he causes the most thirst. If you need to put this into a time line setting this is before Bun in the Oven
SMUT heavy breeding kink
He tried to be good to his Bäckerin but there were some months that his will would faulter. And as Roland would discover putting a baby inside of his Bäckerin wasn't as simple or as easy as he thought. He could smell the biological changes and the fact that something took but then he could smell her body change back. Frustrated he asked her not understanding that the human body was just too strong for it's own good. His Bäckerin soothed him by simply saying "well if my body reabsorbed it this early then there might have been something genetically wrong. A lot can go wrong... I'm certain you can put it in terms of becoming a Black Templar. Sometimes healthy aspirants just die during the process... sometimes what might have been a viable baby just doesn't make it." She would smile at him and just soothe his wounded pride.
She still humored him to make sure that they could both still could conceive and it was simply the roll of the dice. Though Roland knew him being a Space Marine probably wasn't helping him. He finished his prayer and headed to training as he was just stewing in his own mind. His Bäckerin smelt so good this morning... just like the day they first had sex. He couldn't stop himself from pinning her down and bullying his cock inside of her. Watching her whine and whimper under him just sent such a... a thrill up his spine. Chaplin Eckehard was so helpful for Roland during these times but even Roland would watch him stalk after one of his two wives.
Training was hardly helping as it just seemed to get his blood flowing faster to between his legs. His Bäckerin should be out... just a cold shower. He marched back to his quarters after bidding his brothers farewell. His Chaplin had explained that like with battle brothers once he had "imprinted" upon his mortal that he was suddenly acutely aware of her scent biology... he could still look at other mortals and find no desire stirring in his loins but looking at his Bäckerin and occasionally women who looked similar to his Bäckerin could cause the stirring between his loins.
Perhaps it was a bad idea to be where her scent was the strongest. But he was a Space Marine if he could not resist temptations then he was vulnerable. He did not wish to be a weak link when out in combat with his battle brothers. The cold water seemed to hiss against his naturally warm physiology but he could feel himself calming down... coming down from the frenzied high. Till he heard the front door open and his eyes snapped open.
He could hear her... he could smell her... he held his breath so he wouldn't taste her. He could smell the scent of flour, yeast, butter, and eggs against her... probably entangled into the scent of her hair. She was bringing home bread was all... she would leave... he waited those painful seconds as his eyes went over to the bathroom door... she would leave...right?! Oh by the Throne why wasn't she leaving?!
He couldn't face his Bäckerin just yet... "Oh Roland..." his ears picked up even muffled through the door. He twisted the water off and stalked out running his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he could smell her. He watched her pull her fingers out of her unzipped trousers and put them into her mouth licking herself clean.
"Bäckerin," He snapped, "Get on the bed now!"
He watched her jump as her head whipped her head to him seeing him fully naked and he watched her eyes fail to meet his as they were caught between his legs looking at the angry throbbing thing. His own eyes were no longer the soft honey brown but were black with how he looked at her with nothing but a predatory desire. But when she didn't move suddenly she was face first into a burly chest.
"R-Roland?! W-what"
"Less words." He felt himself salivating as he unabashedly inhaled her scent, "I'm going to fuck a baby into you!" He snarled as he threw her onto the bed as he punched a code into a terminal. Only the Chaplin could contact him or get in during this time. When he looked over at his Bäckerin he was pleased that she had stripped naked.
She flinched in unconscious fear as suddenly he was looming over her. She was still a mortal at the end of the day and he was a lethal weapon. As much as he wanted to pin her under him and thrust with reckless abandon, as her scent was coaxing him to do, he rolled over laying on his back. "Work yourself on. Please." He hissed giving her this one concession.
Lucky for him she was already so wet. He let out a guttural hiss from the back of his throat as her hips began to roll and bounce her way down his cock. "Du riechst so gut." He groaned arching and pushing himself into her more. She felt so full and whimpered as he gave her till she started to move.
She found herself on her back quickly as his hips began to piston in their barely restrained pattern. He really shouldn't indulge himself during these times of the month... but it was addictive to smell her fertile scent just mingling with his own when he fills her with his sperm. His drool splashes on her breasts as he is lost in his fantasy. Her breathy moans filling the room just as much as the wet squelch and slap of his hips against hers. The way his balls met her skin, the feeling of her feet against his chest and shoulders... oh he knew when he was bad she would press them against his neck to try and break him out of whatever trance he was in.
He pressed her down causing her moans to increase an octave as she was utterly cock drunk slurring his name as the bed creaked and rocked with the rhythm his hips had set. He sometimes wished his Bäckerin could handle him more... but he wouldn't give her up for anything. He could feel the way she clenched around him and the way she groaned in pleasure as he fucked through her orgasm simultaneously extending it but also building up the next one.
"So gut." He salivated on her shoulder before sucking a hickey into her skin. It didn't take him very long to get her to orgasm again but when she did he bottomed out snarling, "Meine Bäckerin, meine... meine... meine." All gutteral sounded and coming from deep within his chest and throat as he stilled his hips just rolling them as he flooded her insides. He knelt there just panting softly as he let her legs go and watch them just spread wide and she rested her feet on his thighs.
"Um... hi to you too?" She spoke softly.
"You're ovulating." Roland said as if it was completely obvious as to why he dragged her to bed, "I wasn't expecting you home."
"I was just going to leave some bread and... yeah neither was I expecting you." She moaned softly as he had softened and pulled out. He cocked his head to the side as he felt some pride and sexual satisfaction seeing at how wide open he would leave her. Pushing some of the oozing cum back into her quivering cunt. She moaned softly as he would do so. She wasn't staying as open as long any more. "Roland?"
"Hmm?" He finally looked up at his Bäckerin.
"Get my laptop I'm not going to be moving for a bit. Not with... that."
He just grinned going to get her some water and her device. He would pepper her with kisses and his tender affection till he had to return to his duties. But he was happy to return to them with a clear head even though it meant any plans his Bäckerin had were ruined.
Though he was certain she hardly minded.
#tw: smut#tw: sex#warhammer 40k#Brother Roland#Bäckerin#smut#Black Templar#Space Marine x reader#x reader#is this x reader still?#Space Marine#Black Templar x reader#Does Roland count as a Yandere still?#tw: breeding
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Don’t do energy drinks at 3 pm, lest you end up like me and can’t sleep. Thanks @kit-williams for the writer’s inspiration thing. 😊
Summary: One of your Iron Hands minis inexplicably disappears. Conversely, there is a very big Iron Hand man at your door. Uh oh
Word Count: 1216
Content Warnings: Attempted violence, a guilty pleasure trope of mine, uhhh that’s probably all?
A half-smile crossed your face as you put down the last mini and wrung the Mephiston Red off of your paintbrush. Finished. You admired your handiwork, turning him around in your hands a little bit. He was the only one of his brothers without a helmet, but half of his face was covered by metal implements anyways. Painting an Iron Hands space marine (Iron Hand?) was no small order. The brush you’d bought specifically to paint them was still too big, so you’d cut off some of the bristles. And it still frayed, blotching paint where it wasn’t supposed to go. But you’d covered it up well enough that you couldn’t notice most of it. Even though he was one of five of your first minis, he was perfect.
You looked out of the window of your apartment, a little studio think a ways away from anything meaningful. It was dark… kind of. Streetlights lit the scene with no concern for light pollution and cars still travelled outside, sometimes stuck behind a light and sometimes rushing past. Occasionally someone would blare music (and not normally music you liked.) The sound would reach your window, sometimes even piercing your headphones. No matter. It wasn’t happening now.
You opened your phone and checked the time, idly wondering if anyone had sent you anything. 1 AM. The only notification was from Instagram. “Top reels in the United States!” it declared. Lovely. You yawned as you reached for your medication, popping the pills down your throat. You grabbed first for your paint water, then for your water bottle to wash them down. You wasted no time in getting to bed, letting sleep consume you.
You woke up to a loud bang bang bang on the door. Someone with a deep, rumbling voice called out something in a language you didn’t understand, a language you couldn’t even put a name to. You tumbled out of bed, pulled on a sweatshirt and looked out of the window. Still dark. After that, you went to look at the peephole. And then your heart skipped a beat.
You beheld a man tall enough that he had to crouch slightly, and even then his head scraped the ceiling. Half of his face was replaced by mechanical implements, three red lenses where his left eye should be. The right side of his face was scarred and tattered, with a dark brown eye that looked human enough. There was a short chop of black hair on his head. You looked at his armor. There were the mistakes on the armor, blotches of white and little lumps where it was layered on too thickly.
He banged on the door again, causing it to shake. Before weighing your options, you cracked the door open. “Hello?” you’d asked groggily, wiping your eye with your hand.
Before you could process anything, he pushed past you as if you were nothing but a large weed. Your heart beat in your chest and you instinctively reached for the light. Your eyes widened as you processed that there was an intruder in your apartment, and he was large. You watched him scan the room. As he reached for your drawers, you felt your mouth open up. “If you’re here to steal from me, I regret to inform you that I don’t have much,” you yawned. Your eyes darted towards the congregation on your desk, next to your less expensive paints and brushes. “Please don’t take my minis, though. I worked really hard on th—“
He made a beeline for the minis, and your heart skipped a beat as you noticed that there were only four on the table. All of them had their little helmets intact. He examined them carefully, only touching the bases as he picked them up and put them back down.
He was harmless so far, but an intruder nonetheless. You looked for a weapon while he was turned away. You hadn’t much in your apartment; the most dangerous thing in your vicinity was a mechanical pencil laying near your feet. You picked it up. Better than nothing. You began looking for a weakness in his armor, a chink in the metal that surrounded him. Could you reach the back of his neck..? There was only one way to find out.
As you jumped, he snapped back around, a detached look in his eye. The pencil deflected off of his armor and he grabbed you, stepping back into the desk a little bit to steady himself. The desk gave way a little bit, creaking against the faux wood of the floor. His armor was cold and rough against your skin. And he was so large against you, larger than anyone of your own kind. He said something in that language of his before he set you down, steadying you on your feet before he let go.
You watched him look over the mess that was your desk. He picked up a months-old painting done on some scrap paper—something that wasn’t too great by your standards, really—and looked at it for a few moments before gingerly placing it back where it was. Your eyelids slid down slightly. He had no intention of harming you or your apartment.
As his attention slid to your paint water, you chuckled. “What happened to ‘hello?’” you asked, your tone much lighter than it had been.
He turned around, extending a hand. “Hutri,” he said.
You blinked, before taking it. Your face went warm as his hand engulfed yours. You said your name quietly, hoping that Hutri was his name and not an expression in his native language. He repeated it before chuckling, his hand falling from yours. You half wanted to guide your hand to his, but you didn’t know how to do so naturally.
“I guess you really don’t have anywhere to go,” you said quietly. You surveyed your room. There wasn’t even a beanbag chair for you to sleep on. Your bed was made for a baseline human, but it could probably support him if he tried hard enough. You pointed at the bed. “You can take the bed,” you said. “I don’t know where you came from, but you probably need to rest.”
He looked down at you, then at the bed. He began to remove his armor, and you looked away, feeling your face go warm again. He said something, but you hadn’t a clue what it meant. Once you stopped hearing armor fall to the ground (and stopped praying for your downstairs neighbors) you turned around to see him in his body glove. Augmentations still poked out, making themselves known through little convexities popping up from underneath it. He climbed into the twin bed with ease, curling up on it so he could fit. And he left a little bit of room on the side. He beckoned you over wordlessly, pressing himself against the cold wall.
“I’ve had enough sleep,” you muttered, feeling your face warming again. Truth be told, you hadn’t curled up with someone like that in a long while. You missed feeling the warmth of someone close by, feeling their chest rise and fall against you. You looked at him, the right half of his face staring at you expressionlessly.
“Alright, just let me turn the lights off.”
#warhammer 40k x reader#space marine x reader#iron hands x reader#reader insert#iron hands#oc x reader#warhammer lobotomy
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Let’s do another one, shall we? This one might be a little more…freaky.
(Any Chaos Astartes)
*Your Astartes been more affectionate lately. Slowly persuading you into his “nest” where he finally has you right where he wants you. Stuffing you full of his clutch.
*You don’t even realize whats happened until you’re whimpering out in ecstasy. Too drugged up on his scent/pheromones.
*Oh, you’ll make a wonderful mother to his brood.
(Too freaky?)
Day 16
I am frothing. I love oviposition.
Pairing: Pumpkin chaos astartes oc x reader
Warnings: oviposition, sex pheromones/ chemically induced arousal, space marine husbandry with full sized astartes
Making the warnings bigger so yall dont miss it. But I'm gonna say it's all consensual
I'm going to make more for this in the future I think
When I'd found him out in the wilderness I hadn't expected to bond with him so strongly. I couldn't even really tell what legion or chapter he'd been a part of.
Chaos, that was what the apothecaries told me and I was instructed to move forward with caution. I called him Pumpkin as a sign of affection. It was the nickname my mom used to call me. He liked it alot. Answering me eagerly when I called for my Pumpkin. Perhaps I should have tried to learn his real name first, now he won't tell me what it is. He only answers to Pumpkin.
But I liked him. He was a good housemate, keeping tidy and he was affectionate for someone I found in the woods.
He took up the old room I gave him, and it quickly became a cozy place as he scrounged old furniture from curbs.
I made him clean them thoroughly before he could bring them in. But it became a really sweet set up.
After he was done with all that he seemed to shift. It was nearly imperceptible at first. Just more touches here and there. Going out and bringing back fresh foods he'd foraged with him.
Checking in on me, marking dates on the calendar with little stars. As if he was tracking something but he wouldn't tell me what. He spoke in broken English, but he was still learning the language, and I had learned just enough of his High Gothic to communicate.
I thought about going out to acquire another astartes. The forums said if you could have more then one they learned new languages quicker.
When I brought it up with him, he absolutely lost it. Yelling “No” in more than just two languages.
I was shocked but dropped it. But he was oddly distant after that, taking his dinner to his room to eat alone.
That night I went to the forums and tried to find out more.
[Hey all. My chaos astartes is strictly against me getting another astartes. Why,]
NewlyChaotic:
“Hey all,
I ‘adopted’ my chaos astartes about five months ago and everything has been great so far, but I had been wanting to open my home to another perhaps. But when I brought it up to Pumpkin (it's what he likes me to call him, I don't know why)
He lashed out badly and wouldn't talk to me for hours and went to bed.
I only brought it up after reading that astartes learn and operate better in groups generally.
Even chaos aligned.
Any advice would be greatly appreciated, I feel so lost and just want my Pumpkin hugs back. ;^;
I wanted and soon my thread had a response.
Salamander_Sheila🐉:
Hey @NewlyChaotic,
Sorry to hear about your troubles. It happens sometimes that astartes grow bonded to their baselines and just don't want to share. He might feel like you'll replace him if you bring another astartes into your home.
As for the chaos aspect, what legion is he?
NewlyChaotic:
I'm not sure, his armor looks like it was scrubbed clean of paint and he has no livery that I can discern. He's normally very sweet and I love him to pieces, I could never replace him.
Salamander_Sheila🐉:
I get that. I love my boys to bits and wouldn't ever want to hurt them.
Maybe he left his chapter/warband.
Also my friend @ShadowyMistress has a few chaos boys. She might know some things.
ShadowyMistress:
I have been summoned?
Yes I have many different chaos astartes. They're really sweet when they actually like you lol. :p
NewlyChaotic:
So is his behavior normal?
ShadowyMistress:
Seems it. However you should look out if he starts to make “nests”.
Some mutated astartes begin to take on more animalistic traits.
He might try to breed you. Which, I mean if you're down for that then Godspeed.
Salamander_Sheila🐉:
It's pretty rare, but romantic connections can happen.
I would know.
I let that digest for a minute. Turning to look towards Pumpkin's door.
My heart thumped harder at the thought and I felt uncomfortably warm.
My love life had been pretty lackluster. Hadn't had a date in a hot minute.
I shook my head, I'm sure it wasn't that.
NewlyChaotic:
Thanks for all the help guys. I have a lot to mentally chew on with his.
Salamander_Sheila🐉:
Talk to him, as best as you can.
If he's not proficient at English it's okay. Astartes are good at sensing intent and feelings.
Be open with him and if you mean it, tell him you don't plan on replacing him with anyone else.
Good luck with Pumpkin, and you can shoot me or Shadow a dm if you need. We're usually around at this time.
NewlyChaotic:
I will. Night guys.
I logged off and shut the computer down.
The side table lamp was on and I knocked on the door softly. He wasn't an early sleeper so I knew he'd still be up.
There was a soft “Yes?” From the other side, I cracked the door open and called in.
“May I come in?...Please?”
I waited, my chest feeling tight for some reason.
“Yes.”
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding and stepped in.
Pumpkin was at his desk. It looked like he'd been watching a nature documentary on the laptop I'd gotten him. I was happy he'd been enjoying it.
The words of the girls on the forum flashed in my mind. ‘Just talk to him..he'll understand the intent.’
“Hey, I wanted to apologize about earlier, I didn't mean to upset you.”
He looked at me with green gold eyes that seemed to understand what I was trying to convey.
Perhaps he understood more of my language than he could speak.
He turned to me fully and put out his hand. I took it and shivered at the contact. His hands were so warm.
“I don't want you to think I'm trying to replace you, not at all. I care about you Pumpkin. I just read that you astartes tend to do better in groups. And I was worried that being here with me wouldn't be enough to make you happy.”
I hadn't meant to spill that fear to him, but it was out now and I couldn't take it back.
He pulled me into his arms. Hugging me with so much understanding and affection. It felt amazing to be held like that.
“You are…enough. I am.. I am happy with you.”
He had to think through his words as he spoke and I returned the hug.
“I'm so glad. I just want you to be happy and healthy.”
He nodded and kissed the top of my head, it made me giggle.
I let him go and he did the same. But he raised his hands and gently touched my chin.
“I love you.” He chirped on High Gothic and I wasn't sure what he'd said but I didn't press.
“Well, I'm gonna get to bed. I have more work to get done in the morning.”
I hurried out, feeling a tad bit light headed. His touch had left me feeling hot for reasons I couldn't explain.
I was going to need a shower. Probably a cold one.
I watched her go, my hearts pounding. Too little, I noted. My pheromones hadn't built up enough. I opened up the journal on the miniature computer system my beloved had gotten me.
I needed to record this interaction. It would be important to show our sons in the future. After they were here of course.
It hurt to lie to her. I loved her, but I couldn't risk her finding out I knew everything she'd said.
And if she brought an intruder into our home, our nest. My cover would be blown and our children's safety compromised.
I loved her, but she could be so silly.
Standing, I shutdown the computer and chuckled. No incense needed, no fancy oils. I liked these little machines.
It was late and I needed to finish touching up the place where I would make our family, my new warband of sons, a reality.
It was such a shame that the old one lacked vision. That they refused to accept the gifts of our patrons.
Our numbers would have grown and we would have been unstoppable. Able to take anyone we pleased to grow our numbers.
I had had to do it, to cleanse them from existence. They turned me away, called me disgusting. A shame to kill so many brothers and cousins.
But what if they told others?
I'd rid myself of their colors, their symbols, their outdated ideals. I was my own man now. I would have a warband that was loyal and not full of naysayers and old ruins.
The prince of pleasure and the changer of ways had given me such wonderful gifts.
I just had to have my little darling here with me in my nest. My pheromones were the strongest here. And she'd been too busy to notice that I moved my couches to block in the corner.
This would be the most comfortable place to fill her with my clutch.
I rearranged the pillows again, and pulled more blankets I'd gotten into the pit.
Perfect.
Her door was never locked. A good thing really, she was so beautiful in the moonlight. Dreaming soft dreams.
Were they of me? I know what few dreams I had were of her.
They had been since I'd first seen her in the park. Plotting how I would find my way to her. The whispered promises of my patrons in my ears.
But then, she found me first. It was fated. Truly it could not have been any other way. I had to be hers. She had to be mine. They told me so.
I liked the new shampoo she used, it smelled like desert flowers….like home.
“I love you.” I whispered again. My fingers brushing over her still damp hair. I would feel it more when I took her tomorrow. I would let her work while I made ready our love nest.
She would be mine. And her body would hold our sons. The prey I brought for her to feast on had been nutrient rich and her cycles had proven that. Tomorrow was the perfect time, peak fertility.
Oh so many clutches would her body carry for me.
I kissed her lips softly and slipped back to my room.
Soon darling. Soon.
The alarm I'd set woke me and I stretched rolling out of bed.
The smell of food wafted to me as I stepped out into the hall.
“Pumpkin?”
There was an answering grunt from the kitchen and my astartes came into view. Cooking up a balanced meal, as was his habit.
“Anything fun planned for today?” I asked, knowing he likely wouldn't reply.
“Well I have to finish up that last chapter and get it sent in. My editor's been on my butt all week over it.”
I felt his eyes fall on me. But he didn't reply verbally, just bringing me food without asking for anything in return.
I smiled and took the plates.
“I don't deserve you. You're too good to me.”
I was surprised when he wrapped me up in his arms, hugging me and nuzzling the top of my head.
He'd been doing that more and more often.
“Thank you, Pumpkin.”
“You are welcome.” He sighed happily.
“You remembered the response. That’s great.” I looked up and our noses touched briefly.
Just to be a stinker I kissed the tip of his nose.
He shivered and pulled away to look at me, he looked a bit confused and oh so adorable. I giggled, I couldn't help it, somehow the towering mass of muscle was just too cute.
“Sorry, it was simply too good an opportunity to pass up.”
He nodded and leaned down to kiss my nose in return.
I giggled again and he went to his chair. I told him about my chapter and the climatic finale I had planned and how those plot points would lead to the next book.
He listened with patience and nodded, even if I wasn’t sure he understood all the details.
He took my empty plates and put them in the sink.
“Have a good day.” He hugged me and I hugged him back.
“I’ll do my best. Just for you.” His eyes lit up at that.
She was becoming more affectionate in return. My patrons must be right. It had been too hard to pull myself away. But I needed time to continue to make the nest perfect with the final rituals. I retreated to my room, several bags of snacks ready for the trap I had set.
At around 1:30 I finished up my last edit and sighed, saving my document again for the thousandth time and sent it off to my editor.
I heard Pumpkin’s door open and went to see what he was doing. WHen he saw me his eyes lit up and he waved me over.
“Hey you, guess who officially finished their book?” I gestured to myself. “It’s me!”
I stopped at his door and he took my hand. The lights in his room were dim and comfortable.
“What’s all this about?”
He’d rearranged his furniture making a blanket and pillow bowl. He’d set up his laptop with snacks and the show we’d been watching together. The room smelled strongly of him and something sweet. I was going to question what he’d used but suddenly I just didn’t mind.
And hell, I could use a break and a treat for all that work I'd done.
I let him take me to his blanket pit and climbed over the couch.
“So what’s on the menu today?”
“You my beloved.”
I pressed play and pulled her down into my lap. She obliged and I had to once again fight to simply have her then and there.
She fit perfectly against my body and I could feel myself getting hard. I needed to calm down. To let her find herself naturally ready to mate. I could smell it on her. Her fertility.
The episode was good, but I kept losing my focus on it and looking down at her. After an hour she seemed a bit woozy. Like she had been after that party. She’d worried me then, but now I knew what clouded her mind and it wasn’t any drink.
I smiled, it must have looked deranged for as much glee and anticipation I felt.
It was impossible to focus now, I was so needy now that I had half a mind to just leave and take care of myself. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to be close to Pumpkin. I wanted to pet him and kiss him deeply. He was so handsome, nothing like what those forums said about the chaos chapters.
“Pumpkin?” I breathed, my head felt light as I looked up at him, his green gold eyes boring into me.
“Yes?” Mmm, his voice, gosh I could listen to it all day.
I turned in his lap and did something I never thought I’d do. I kissed him, full on the mouth. He flinched with shock and my brain shorted out. The world spun and I was under him.
The blanket pile smelled like him and I buried my face in it. Something nagged at the back of my mind but I ignored it in favor of space marine smell. Pumpkin moved away and I whined, making grabby hands for him to come back.
My body was being shifted, although I wasn’t sure why and I felt him return the heat of his skin on mine making me moan.
His hands took hold of my thighs and something pressed at my entrance. I was too giddy to look down, the instinctual part of my brain hollered again and I knew what, but I found that I didn’t care.
She yielded to me so beautifully, her body was ready and I slipped in with a groan and she let out a silvery little cry under me.
Her hands clawed at my chest, trying to pull me down closer to her.
I let her, and took her chin in my fingers, holding her as I pressed her down into the blankets, kissing her hard. The mother of my sons. Too perfect, too warm and tight. I wondered if she would accept me forever. I would happily make her my little wife. She could write her books while she tended to our sons.
I pulled out, rutting back into her. My cock was perfectly tailored to allow me to push the tip into her cervix without hurting her. Just one of the design choices that the changer had gifted me. It would allow me to cum in her and not waste any of it.
That cum would prepare her body for what came next. My clutch, those seeds that would mature and grow till she was able to lay them. It would only be a few of them. BUt soon I’d be able to fill her. Her body would grow accustomed to them.
But for now, I loved her body with my own.
It was like heaven, his body moving against me, and in me. The warmth of his body over mine and his lips stealing kisses.
I cried out again as he pressed in deeper, every thrust was pure delight. His cock brushing over every spot conceivable that might make me see stars.
My nails racked over his skin, leaving angry red scratches behind, he moaned and it made me want him even more. It was like candy to my brain, a sugarly sweet addiction.
“Pumpkin.” I squealed as he wrapped his arms under my back and hugged me tight to him, leaving barely enough room to breath.
His hips jack hammered into mind, making cohesive thoughts impossible.
But what should matter to me? It was an otherworldly level of pleasure. No one had ever made me feel this good.
The force of his thrusts and the pure bliss sent me over the edge, It felt like my body was twisting inside as my eyes rolled back and my back arched almost painfully into him.
The noise that came from me didn’t sound like one a pleasure i’m sure, but my body burned with even more need, the need to be filled.
Her nails cut into my thick hide, drawing droplets of blood and I felt even more in love with her. So strong for someone so small. I could feel her loosening and the tip of my cock slipped an inch into her womb. The perfect place for my clutch.
I came into her. The thick ropes of my love conditioning her for the final stage. The prince promised me that it would make her body accept my clutch, giving her the feeling of being pregnant. So her body wouldn’t reject my sons.
They moved down from their place of holding in my abdomen and I groaned deeply as I felt them pass from me and into her. I petted her hair as she gasped and writhed under me as the eggs stretched her.
“There, there. Soon my love. You will bring forth our sons.” I soothed her kissing her cheeks and temples while three lemon sized eggs were deposited into her.
I stayed inside her till she fell asleep in my arms. A soft smile gracing her lips.
“My love, you cannot imagine the joy you have brought to my life. And the joys you have yet to bring.”
I rolled onto my side making her comfortable as she pressed into me. I placed a blanket over her.
I had a journal entry to update.
My Dearest sons,
You were conceived today. And your mother was more perfect than I could have ever dreamed.
#warhammer 40k#warhammer#my writing#warhammer 40k x reader#adeptus astartes#chaos astartes#space marine x reader#space marine oc#mating press march#Space Marine Husbandry
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The Inquisitor knows about yandere astartes, it won't end well
Inquisitor [REDACTED] report on yandere Astartes (????)
+++ CLASSIFICATION: [LOCK]
+++ CLEARANCE: Obsidian
+++ ENCRYPTION: [LOCK]
+++ DATE: 327.M38
+++ AUTHOR: Inquisitor [REDACTED], Ordo Malleus
+++ SUBJECT: INVESTIGATION INTO SUSPECTED GENEFLAW AFFECTING ADEPTUS ASTARTES SUBJECTS ACROSS ALL CHAPTERS AND FOUNDINGS
+++ EYES ONLY HIGHEST TRANCHESINQUISITORIAL CASE FILE [EXCISED]
Summary of Findings:
Initial reports of this suspected "Geneflaw" first reached my conclave several terran years ago. Astartes assets deployed to war zones began exhibiting highly erratic behaviors and perverse compulsions unbecoming of the Emperor's finest warriors.
Behavioral divergences included:
Unnatural emotional outbursts and loss of emotional mastery
Uncontrollable sexual urges and deviant acts
Possessive, clingy behaviors violating sacred chains of command
Irrational self-destructive and anti-imperial actions driven by object fixations
At first, these cases seemed sporadic and isolated across different Chapters. However, as more deplorable incidents piled up, a clear pattern emerged. Something grievous had gone wrong on a fundamental level.
Excerpted examples of documented cases:
[REDACTED] - BLOOD ANGELS CHAPTER
Audio log of Sanguinary Priest [REDACTED]
"Some dark curse has been visited upon our Chapter. A growing number of my battle-brothers have become… afflicted with wanton hungers. No mere physical needs, but all-consuming fixations on certain mortals within our care."
"They will stop at nothing to "claim" these individuals for themselves, body and soul. Any attempt at intervention results in unthinkable acts of disobedience and violence…"
[SAMPLE ENDS]
[REDACTED] - BLACK TEMPLARS CHAPTER
Thought downloading from captured Chaplain [REDACTED] upon interrogation
"The time for restraint is at an end. I can bear this throbbing in my soul no longer! She must know the depth of my unfettered desire, the fever pitch of my infatuation. If she does not return these longings, I shall shatter worlds until the God-Emperor take pity!"
*Interrogator's Note: [NEUTRALIZE]
[REDACTED] - EXCORIATOR CHAPTER
Recorded pict-captures from helm-cams during incursion on [REDACTED]
-Extreme Battlefield Fraternization between crusaders and human auxiliaries
-Acts of exhibitionism and self-mutilation by crusaders
-Systematic execution of any battle-brother expressing disgust at above actions
-Final pict: [REDACTED]
The list of astartes goes on. Worse, there appear to be no patterns in age, founding, homeworld or even primarch genealogy. These repulsive behaviors are emerging across every Adeptus Astartes chapter at random. The Imperium teeters on the brink of an catastrophic, gene-coded crisis.
Research into potential countermeasures and remedies continues. However, my conclusions thus far firmly advocate an extreme response to contain this threat.
RECOMMENDED ACTIONS:
1) Immediate executions for any Astartes subject exhibiting Geneflawed behaviors. No exceptions.
2) Full and systematic extinction-level viral bombings against all potentially compromised Chapters and fleets.
3) Pre-emptive destruction of all Astartes gene-seed repositories, along with any Adeptus Mechanicus factions and forge worlds implicating in its creation or study.
Only through the complete erasure of this genetic stock can the essence of the Adeptus Astartes be preserved for the inevitable darkness yet to come.
The Emperor's work must be done, no matter how abominable the means required.
I await your tribunal's final judgment on this matter.
Thought for the Day: "There is nothing to be gained through mercy, only fleeting weakness and eventual damnation."
-Inquisitor [REDACTED]
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Pov: You're on your period and you ask your astartes boyfriend to buy you pads
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Drawings based off some asks (that i may or may not have sent teehee) on @moodymisty ‘s blog
+ Bonus silly doodle
AITA for trying to kill my cousin because he stole my crush?
Edit: For everyone saying “talking about someone ‘stealing’ your crush is wrong, your crush doesn’t belong to you” and “They weren’t stolen, they just decided to date him instead” PLEASE understand that when I say “steal” I mean it LITERALLY. As in what bowser did to luigi in the new mario movie. Please read what I have to say first before commenting!!! I really need to know if this fratricide is justified or not.
#warhammer x reader#space marine x reader#my art#these arent like. specific space marine characters or anything i just made them up for this art scenario
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Everybody Likes Kyle
You were woken up by a loud blare of guitars along with drums that sounded like they were urging you to jump right out of your skin.
Since that was an understandably tricky thing to do and you were not normally one for tricks, you merely jumped right out of your bed. Or well, attempted to, the mass of blankets you had wrapped yourself in like a burrito proved to be rather effective restraints, leaving you sitting upright with various fabrics coiled around your legs.
The loud groan as you rub your eyes does nothing, it neither alleviates your frustration or dispels the disoriented feeling as you try to get used to being awake in your own bedroom.
The screams then start.
Not from anyone in the building, there is no need to panic.
From whichever blasted machine that was playing the guitars and the drums at this unholy hour.
Who even manages to take a turn so far left from music to end up at… that?
Who is so rude as to play it at this ho…
You scramble for your phone. Promptly knock it to the floor. Sigh. Detangle yourself from the blankets. The screams seem to be urging you on in this totally attractive mockery of a butterfly getting out of a cocoon, weirdly enough.
Once you finally reach your phone, your knee cracking as you need to nearly crawl under your desk because why wouldn’t a completely non-spherical object tumble as far away from you as possible, and you realize it’s 11am, you feel no less irritated.
In fact, you feel more irritated. With yourself. You couldn’t even be irritated with someone else in peace.
Alright, so it wasn’t at an unholy hour that this… cacophony, because it sure as hell wasn’t music, was being played.
It was at a perfectly… holy hour?
It just still did happen to wake you up.
And for what? Who the fuck was even playing that? That never happened before, this building was rather quiet.
As if the cacophony wasn’t enough, loud thuds that sound suspiciously like heavy steps and furniture being moved around are now shuddering through the thin walls and floors and that is when you realize that 16B is finally getting a tenant.
Oh no.
***
Messy bun? Check.
Leggings? Check.
Oversized T-shirt without any breakfast stains on it? Check.
Teeth brushed? Uhhh… Mouthwash gargled? Check.
Hunting down slippers that belonged to the same pair was more challenging than it had any reason to be having in mind that you possessed no canines or felines who would mess with your footwear, but once that was finally done, too, you tried not to stomp (the effect would be ruined in soft bunny slippers anyway) angrily as you went to ask your new neighbor to tone down their… music.
You nearly fell over a huge box as soon as you stepped out of your apartment. Looking down, you jumped away as a sheen of fur alerted you to the fact that this might be a pet whose temper you do not know…
Except the fur wouldn’t move. And was a giant pelt. Suspiciously looking like it used to belong to a wolf.
Then you look around the assortment of boxes, trash bags, furniture pieces, and just… stuff lying all around the hallway. The questionable taste in music your new neighbor undoubtedly had seemed to extend to furniture as well.
You were staring at a gigantic Edwardian sofa that has been through what its owner most likely considered a genius furniture flip, its upholstery a shiny black and its wooden trim an offensive gold complete with… spikes. The sofa had spikes on the top of its backrest. Cushions were strewn on it, in shades of black, gold, and red and the similarly dated cabinet with glass doors had odd symbols painted in gold on its doors, like… a circle with a bunch of arrows pointing out of its center.
Another box near the one with the wolf pelt contained leather-bound books. So far the least visually offensive or odd thing here.
And then another… was full of skulls. Fucking sk-
The man who popped out of the ajar door of 16B had to bend to walk through.
He promptly pushed aside a heavy wooden treasure chest with his foot. The chest clanked like it was full of metal.
Once fully upright, he was… terrifying.
7 feet of broad, muscled, tattooed mass.
His head was shaved on the sides, with the hair on top dyed the same offensively flaming red his sofa cushions were. It was held in a high ponytail with what looked like a metal cylinder, ornate and as edgy as the rest of him.
Piercings (yes, several) on his brow and ears. Tattoos on his entire body, including the sides of his head. Nails longer than yours on his right hand, filed into points and painted black. Short and black on his left.
He looked like one of those thirst trap alternative guys on TikTok. You always weirdly assumed those guys weren’t real.
With a slight jerk of his chin toward his new apartment, (oh lord, this is your new neighbor! Is he going to sacrifice virgins on Saturday evenings? You worked on Sunday, for fuck’s sake!) he boomed, voice deep and rough:
“Haarken, turn the music down to 16.”
Huh. 16. The music became barely audible in the hallway instantly. He renamed his Alexa into… Haarken? Could you even do that? Also, he set up his Alexa before he unpacked?
“Hello there.” The TikTok demon grinned at you, revealing a row of straight teeth with suspiciously sharp canines, like they were modded. Of course they were. Half his books are probably what sells as occult at the same stores that sell crystals to heal cancer.
“Did I wake you?”
You smooth down your hopelessly wrinkled loungewear T-shirt, a ratty piece of crap that’s gray instead of black now, with some band image that you never recognized or cared about as you dug the garment out of a bin at a thrift store ages ago, when it was still black and whole.
“Is it that obvious?” You toss back and he chuckles. He sounds weirdly menacing as he does.
“A little. I suppose you’re next door?”
He jerks his head toward your unit and you nod.
“I’m Kyle.”
He extends a shovel-sized calloused hand for a handshake. It’s very warm and just as rough as it looks.
“Kyle.” You repeat dubiously. You expected him to introduce himself as a Samael or an Asmodeus or at the very least a Constantine. Nope. Kyle.
He raises both pale eyebrows at you (Kyle is apparently a natural blonde) and you realize that he’s expecting to hear your name in return, so you provide it.
“Nice to meet you. And I apologize for waking you. If you wish to keep me company as I take all this stuff in, there will be a homemade steak in it for you.”
It’s your turn to raise both eyebrows. Kyle looks frightening but he’s apparently polite. And you can’t remember the last time you ate steak. Let alone a homemade one.
“Do you always bribe people into hanging out with you?” You sass him jokingly and a deep line forms between Kyle’s eyebrows. You weren’t able to determine his age up until that point but you suspect he may be older than he looks anyway:
“I like to think of it as an enticing offer. Works better than force or a sense of obligation, don’t you think?”
You feel a bit shitty, since you tried to make a joke but Kyle seems genuinely miffed, his large nostrils a bit flared. So you just nod.
“That’s true. I do like steak. I just hope I don’t end up in this box.”
You point at the box with skulls and the deep line between Kyle’s eyebrows disappears. Your second attempt at a joke is more successful as Kyle barks an unattractive little laugh, one of the ones that sound like a pig:
“No, those belonged to enemies. Plan on not becoming an enemy.”
It’s mighty stupid to think Kyle is kind of cute. You do so anyway.
#warhammer 40k#warhammer fanfic#40k fanfic#ezekyle abaddon#abaddon x reader#ezekyle abaddon x reader#romcom#alternate universe#space marine x reader
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Because I’m shameless
Here is my AO3 account, I have written two pieces of Space marine x chapter serf smut. Well, specifically for Azrael with a (definitely-not self-insert) chapter serf.
#dark angels 40k#warhammer 40k#warhammercommunity#azrael#space marines#space marine x reader#somewhat#i guess#fanfics
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I'm just a little cum dump for my favorite big men. 🤪
𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞
𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Oh, oh lordy. I hope you know how many there is so far. Though, who exactly are your favorites? Apologies, this became something a little more.
𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.
𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊: This has some name and attribute spoilers of my created characters. Which also means these characters can change their… preferences.
TW // SMUT/NSFW, Overstimulation, Breeding, Marking/Biting, Mating Press, Tentacles, Cockbuldge, Cockwarming, Body Worship, Non/Dubcon, Shower/Water Sex, Massage, Size Difference, Pregnancy, Double Penetration, Bondage, Lactation, Corruption? Controlled Orgasm? Semi-Public, Scent Kink, Google Translate.
𝔸𝕕𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕦𝕤 ℂ𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕕𝕖𝕤:
Celsus(Shadow Keeper):
Celsus is a quiet one. In fact, most of these Custodes are. Though, Celsus usually gets to you first, staining your sensitive walls with his seed. He’ll groan like a phantom when he does, looking down at your overly sensitive form. His hands massaging your thighs as he angles you to where his cum pools above your folds. His cock still twitching inside of you.
“Throne, little one, let me cum inside of you once more.”
Atlas(Aquilan Shield):
Atlas is always around, it how you get double penetration sometimes. It’s also how you get pinned in semi-public places. Atlas preferably likes to take you alone, but when you call for him? He is there, ready to provide for you. Ready to stuff you so full of him, that his cum coats the inside of your thighs and drips from your hole; onto the dirty ground. You’ll have to completely rely on him to protect you, to take care of you and take you back home when you tap out.
“Shhhh, little one. You called for me, let me take care of you.”
Pythios(Dread Host):
Pythios wouldn’t hesitate to put you in your place and he won’t stop until you tell him to, or if you are too cock drunk on him, they have enough (a lot) of logic to stop. Though, when stuffing you, he’s a “little” messy. His cum creating a milky web between your thighs, folds and his cock, but he likes to clean you up afterwards whether by tongue or cloth. He also likes how exhausted you look by his cock that still rests inside of you, cockwarming you.
“You are stubborn, little one. Let me take care of that.”
Horos(Solor Watch):
Horos is the kind one, always watching from a distance, but when it’s his moment to stuff you he’s pulling you into a mating press. His form curling around you as both of your thighs are covered with his cum. Yet again, he doesn’t stop until you tap out. So the squelch of each thrust is audible around you when you whine and clench around him so deliciously.
“Please, little one, let me fill your needs.”
Sabinus(Emissary Imperatus):
Sabinus is the first one to know of your needs before you do and his brethren, he’s already providing for you. His cock inching between your cum coated folds with a squelch. Your hands gripping up at his shoulders, clawing, squeezing at him as you feel so full of him, so full of his seed. The sheets will smell like him, even after you wash them.
“Good little one. You are doing so well.”
𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜 𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝:
Ruslan:
Ruslan would put you in an angle and tie you up at his mercy to mate press you and nuzzle at your neck, loving your scent while he’s stuffing you over and over again. It felt oh so sinful of him, but he can’t stop. You smell so good, look so good with his cum staining your fluttering walls. He just has to fill you up, inhale your scent to make you all his all over again.
“You are my sin, Маленькой ангел(Little angel.)”
𝔼𝕞𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕣𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕟:
Ambrosius:
Ambrosius is going to have you tied to the bed. He isn’t taking his chances when you left him with a note the first time you’ve met. You are staying and taking his cock, his seed. He’ll continue to paint your walls until you are babbling at him, mewling at him. Unable to say anything as he takes in the scene before him with his eyes. His cum continuously leaking down his cock from your hole and onto his balls.
“Mmmm, I’m going to love to paint, to fill you, petite rose(little rose.)”
𝕊𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕎𝕠𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕤:
Lycus:
Lycus loves to curl around you and put you up into a mating press. Biting and nipping at you while driving his cock through your slick folds at an eager pace. Loving the feeling of his cum squelching around his cock while he breeds you. He can’t help, but latch onto your shoulder every time he pumps your womb full of his future pups.
“Throne, you tease me with that fertile hole of yours, Little wolf.”
𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝𝕤:
Amadeus:
Amadeus is a little tricky one, but every once in a blood moon he has you stuffed to the brim with his cum. His long life of not having to rail his little bonded hitting him like The Red Thirst. He’ll put you in a mating press and bite into your shoulder, the wicked combo making his eyes flutter and his cock twitch to fill you up the upteenth time this… day? Week?
“Vita mea(My life), please, stay still. I only wish to bring you my pleasure upon you.”
𝕀𝕣𝕠𝕟 ℍ𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕤:
Sviatoslav:
Sviatoslav will stuff you so good you won’t remember what the hell happened before he railed you. You’ll be cockdrunk and cockwarmed through his process of stuffing you and he knows all the best way to make you cum more than him. Don’t try to get him to stuff you either, he’s the one controlling this, alright?
“Stop fighting me, Маленький целитель.(little healer).”
𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕 𝔼𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤:
Spartak:
Spartak can be brutal if he wants to be. Especially when you run away from him. He’ll overstimulate you so badly with his cock you don’t even know what world you were in, you keep fading in and out. Your tears of pleasure blurring your vision. Not to mention that the nest is a mess. Covered in his semen, including you. You’re covered, filled with his seed, his scent. So, if you go off running on him again they will know who you belong to and you won’t get away so easily from him.
“Stop running away from me, Маленький мир(little world.)”
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝔾𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕕:
Blasius:
Blasius loves to breed you. He wants to see you swollen, round, and pregnant with his seed after each round he puts you through. He’ll desperately try and keep you stuffed by shoving putting his tentacles in your fertile hole or even angling you downwards in order to keep his seed inside of you, and if some leaks out? No matter, he still has plenty more to give you.
“Just one more little mate, just one more, you can do it.”
𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝔹𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕣𝕤:
Rasul & Zazir:
Rasul & Zazir are always together and they will worship you together. Massaging your sensitive skin, your chest, your wet folds. Have their lips on you at all times. Nibbling and sucking on those breasts of yours, hoping to gain your essence from them and from your generous core they have stained with their endless corruption.
“Let’s us worship you, little deity. You have done so much already, relax.”
𝕊𝕒𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤:
Dorvenos:
Dorvenos will stuff you upon order, upon asking him. Will keep thrusting up inside of you until the folds of your core a milky. Until you tell him to stop, but he will encourage you to take more of his seed. You just look so beautiful with his cum staining your overly sensitive skin. So radiant with the bulge of his cock stuffing you more than his own cum.
“Moje Zlato(My gold), you’re stuffed full of me, think you can handle another one?”
𝕄𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚:
Hydra(Alpha Legion):
Hydra a tricky one too, more so on the trickster side of himself. He’ll mate press, bite, cockwarm and suck on those tiddys of yours, but he can unpredictable about it. Not so much so that he is stuffing your pretty little hole with his cock, just the random sensations and pace of his are wild on you. It feels like he’s needy, but at the same time it feels controlled. Well… your orgasms are, not so much of his.
Man is not talking, he’s too busy biting you at random times.
Asclepius(Alpha Legion):
Sweet Asclepius is suckling on your breasts and flicking the nubs with his tongue. Hoping to get a drink from them as he deeply rails against you. His cum pooling around your *ss. His eyes fluttering closed as he gets pussydrunk on you. He won’t stop however, but it definitely makes you feel like you ate a full course meal.
“Little serpent, rest. Let me do all the work for you.”
Leviathan(Alpha Legion):
Leviathan can be feral when it comes to stuffing you full with his cum. Especially in the shower or any body of water. He loves how his cum mixes with the water and dribbles down your leg. How his cum moves around your walls because his cock is too much for you, but he still stuffs you, breeds you like he’s in his damn element, gaining energy from the water.
Doesn’t speak either, but he’s definitely hissing, groaning and moaning in your ear.
Solor(Gray Knight):
Solor is on it. He never misses an opportunity to rail you when he can. To have you so full of his cum that you look pregnant before you even are actually pregnant. Surprisingly he is not messy about it, he somehow keeps the sticky mess controlled, but you are cumming with him each time he cums. This Gray Knight is passionatly and keenly breeding you to his home planet Titan.
“Throne, you are my grace, little maiden.”
Xerxes(Ultramarine):
Xerxes is also on it. One kinky Ultramarine. Would take you anywhere besides public. He has enough decency to know some boundaries. Though, without public eye he is breeding you at every angle and he gets to stuff you? Wave your vacation leave goodbye! You put him in a rut-like position where he overstimulates you until you are limp in his arms and he still uses you as a fleshlight. Every place you fuck is clearly left with a mess. You are so lucky he’s an Ultramarine.
“Take it, Sargent. Yes, there we go, such a good girl~”
#smut headcanons#warhammer 40k#space marine husbandry sentience#fanfiction#x reader#reader insert#adeptus astartes x reader#space marine x reader#adeptus custodes x reader#oc: celsus#oc: atlas#oc: pythios#oc: horos#oc: sabinus#oc: ruslan#oc: ambrosius#oc: lycus#oc: amadeus#oc: sviatoslav#oc: spartak#oc: blasius#oc: rasul#oc: zazir#oc: dorvenos#oc: hydra#oc: asclepius#oc: leviathan#oc: solor#oc: xerxes#tw: smut
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Listen I know the wall husbands heads are full of concrete but I'm interested in what you could do with a black templar
Maybe having a cleric darling (Thinking more of a lay person vs someone like a sister of battle) so there can be some delicious religious subtext
But I also know some black templars are very much into seeing when normal baseline humans can overcome the odds and rise above with their own zeal.
Maybe she isn't a combatant but by the God Emperor she will help out however she can even if it is just passing him boltgun magazines.
I got ideas for Black Templars but they're all over the place! Maybe you can make more sense of my ramblings and since it's still on the brain it could be Yandere or not just however you can make a Black Templar with a Darling work
[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]
Author's Note: So... I went apeshit. I apologize. I just fucking love doing religious subtext and whatnot. Also the frail maiden with her knight. Combining them? Awooga. Like this is my dream prompt. I hope you enjoy.
Summary: His thumb presses against your lips, and your mouth opens. You can taste the metal on your tongue, like bitter iron. His hand despite being so inhumanly large is so dextrious and gentle, and the thoughts that enter your mind are sickening.
Relationships: Unnamed Black Templar/Fem!Reader (there aren't pronouns used but the lady/knight vibe is super intense)
Warnings: A smidge lewd but not NSFW, Vague traditional gender roles-like talk (being gentle/needing to be protected etc), Religious under(over)tones, Forbidden romance undertones, Vague yandere/yandere beginnings, Armor kink if you squint, Brief mentions of blood and murder, General 40kness
Word Count: 2209 oops uwu
Ceramite boots thud against the floor like the thunder overhead, echoing in the high, vaulted ceilings.
He hears a tile crack underneath his right boot as he shifts his weight onto it mid-step.
He was always heavier than his brothers. His armor had to be adjusted three different times to fit him as he outgrew it.
'Leave him, he’s off to go for his prayers, and to stalk the locals.’
His one battle brother had laughed at the other’s comment, as he left them all behind to return to the cathedral. It's far from his first time here, in these sanctified halls. He finds himself returning here after almost every patrol, every outing, every moment alone.
His armor shifts with his movement, and he rolls his left shoulder during his walk. He’s had the armor fixed after a stray round hit him in the shoulder, but it still feels off. Like the motion is ever so slightly delayed in comparison to his other interface ports.
He'll get it looked at again. For now he has a different pursuit.
It’s the dead of the night, moon high in the sky as he walks through the nave past pews filled with nothing but air. At this time of night he knows it will only be you here, keeping candles lit and rolling scrolls. A stray servoskull might flutter past every now and again, but other than that, you remain in complete solitude.
No distractions, no needless fluff. You're always busy, fluttering about, making yourself useful where you can. You aren't able to fight, not this threat, but your obedience in cleaning armor- weapons when an Astartes allows- and other such duties has earned you enough to stay where your fellows have left.
Many of the other human refugees have been shipped off at this point, to become the Militarium's logistical problem. You and a few others however have earned your keep. At least in the eyes of the Black Templars.
You'll be far safer here than in a Militarium camp stuffed in with hundreds to thousands of others; Like animals waiting to be shipped off world.
You'll be far safer here with him.
There you are. He can spot you from across the cathedral, and a part of him wonders why it has such an effect on him. His hearts beat faster and his neck tenses; It feels like how he does whenever he's about to fight, but also distinctly different. It almost makes him feel like he's sick from an illness he can't explain.
The moment you hear him however, knowing the sound of an astartes this late and this far away from his brothers could only be him, your back straightens. You've been leaning over for awhile, and your body makes uncooperative cracks as you stand at his approach.
He stops in front of you, at the bottom of the ambulatory steps that rise up to the main altar. You stand at the top of them, quickly moving aside so he can come closer. When he does, you can feel his gaze through the lens of his helmet. It always feels heavy, even when his helmet isn't tilted you way you swear you can feel whenever his eyes are on you.
With both hands he unseals his helmet with a soft hiss, grasping it by the rim before handing it to you. It’s almost too heavy for your grip, but you manage to hold it close to your chest and avoid dropping it. Meanwhile he takes a knee, elbow on his knee as he drops his head in prayer.
His chainsword shifts on his back, over top of a long, tattered cape that's stained with mud and blood at the bottom hem. Astartes don't leave their armor during war, and so the cloth holds the weeks long stench of iron and rotting flesh. It simply burns however, until a few minutes later and then you can no longer smell. For the best, more than likely.
The cathedral is cast in complete silence, his shoulders shifting underneath plates of ceramite. He always is whenever he prays, unlike his brothers in the few times you've seen them. Perhaps it's just a quirk of his. Or maybe they're the odd ones.
Then again, they aren't the ones visiting an empty cathedral in the dead of night, only to meet a single person. Over and over again.
When he rises, he gently takes his helmet from your hands and latches it onto his belt. You speak up for the first time since he appeared.
"Have you made good progress out there? The weather seems to only be getting worse."
He looks down at you; His short, hastily chopped hair dry and pressed in odd places from the pressure of his helmet. It's mostly dry now, but you can tell it was wet not long ago. He must've taken his helmet off in the rain and was instantly soaked to the bone.
"The Emperor watches over us. We will prevail despite the deluge."
Said deluge batters on the tall glass windows of the cathedral, and thunder cracks not much later. The sound gives you a momentary jolt. This particular storm has been going all day, but the area has been battered with rainstorms for weeks now on and off. It might not slow them down, but you can see dried chunks of mud where they've had to trudge through it to progress. Most of it is washed away on him now, the rain having cleaned his armor significantly.
Your hands grasp each other tightly, no longer having his helmet to act as some sort of grounding.
"I tried to pray like you do, this morning." His eyes noticeably brighten ever the slightest, as your voice echos in the empty cathedral. "I wanted to pray to the Emperor that you stayed safe out there."
You don't know if he finds it amusing; But the corner of his mouth quirks upward ever so slightly anyways.
"Then pray for our victory, not our safety. What matters is that we succeed," He states.
You hear the mechanics in his armor shift as he leans slightly more on his left leg than right. It's like the armor is simply an extension of himself, and you suppose it is.
He is the first astartes you've even seen, so your knowledge is sparse. A small part of you has so many questions you'd wish to ask him, not knowing if he'd even entertain you with an answer.
You're fascinated by him; You wonder if he thinks the same of you. The way he acts lends you to think so, but you don't know how to feel about it.
In the corner of your eye you notice movement, and turn to the right just a bit and see someone walking across the nave. But when they catch sight of you and one of the Black Templars, the scurry out of the main hall like death was on their heels.
It isn't the first time someone has made a conscious effort to avoid you, now that you have an astartes taking such an interest in you. People are keen to spend as little time around them as possible- as despite them being the primary source protecting you all, they have more than displayed their fickle nature. One misspoken word and you could be gone. It's happened before. You know of a few faces that have disappeared with little a word.
You must look away from him for too long, as suddenly his armored hand grasps your jaw, turning your face back to him. The awkward angle due to his height makes your neck ache, and you grasp at the seams of his gauntlet for any sort of support.
"Are you going to try and run like they did?"
He says, watching you like he's looking for something more than a simple answer.
You wonder what he sees. If he notices the way your heart has begun to race in fear and something else, as he overtakes your vision. That something else was only for those rare moments of solitude where your reasoning left you, and your mind wandered to areas it shouldn't. If you'd known any better, you might've thought such things were blasphemous, or something of the sort.
Suddenly, you remember that he's waiting for an answer; You watch as the scars on his face move when he shifts his jaw.
"No."
He takes a step closer and with no more room your back presses against the altar just behind you. You risk nearly bending over it from how close he is, his dominant leg taking root just close enough that your legs have to part to let his knee past.
The shadow of the window mullions decorate the back of his armor, the light making the shadows against his face even harsher. You can even see the shadows of large rain droplets against his pauldrons, sliding down as if they've actually fallen on him. You can hear them hit the glass as the wind whistles outside and rattles the glass.
You watch him wondering; His eyes and face are completely unreadable. Astartes are so stoic, any little emotion is held invisible deep within themselves. Trying to figure out what he's thinking is an impossible task, though it's clear the interest he has in you is no longer just curiosity. That thought makes your heart pound against your chest as if it's trying to escape, your blood hot.
His thumb presses against your lips, and your mouth opens. You can taste the metal on your tongue, like bitter iron. His hand despite being so inhumanly large is so dextrious and gentle, and the thoughts that enter your mind are sickening.
It feels like he's toying with you; Experimenting with something new as he watches the way your soft skin gives under his armor. Your hands and gentle skin have faint crumbles of candle wax and ink on them from your work, as they grasp his armor.
You're terrified. You want more of him. You'll be happy to burn if that's what it requires.
"You'll come with me, when we are finished here."
You whisper his name, telling him yes as if you were foolish enough to think you had a choice in the matter. No one but him is here to hear it.
If someone was you wouldn't be able to see them from the way his massive armored form overtakes almost all of your vision, swallowing you in a sea of shadow and pitch black armor. They would see as he leans down, his thumb leaving your lips. You can feel his hot breath on your skin. The way he almost seems to suffocate you with how much of his body looms over you, just to get close. You can hear your own heartbeat so you just know he can, his eyes dilated and nearly total black.
Your back hurts pressing against the edge of the altar, feeling vulnerable underneath his unreadable stare. The fabric of your clothing bunches in places and rises up on your body, catching on the seams of his leg plates. His armor might be cold, but astartes run hot; Like their blood is boiling, so beneath that metal chill is the heat from the skin visible on his face and neck. You think if the cathedral was any colder, his hot breath would be visible.
His lips hover over yours, brushing as if he's so thoroughly detailing every step of this. Savoring each moment, or perhaps just toying with you. Watching the way a human so much smaller than him writhes under his grip at his mercy. You want to finish it, but the hand clamped around your jaw won't allow you, as much as you want to yearn and beg and plead to k-
'Brother. Return from toying with the refugees, the chaplain has returned with an update.'
Suddenly audible is a deep voice shaken by vox distortion emanating from his helmet; His head turns ever so slightly in it's direction. The bow of his upper lip brushes over yours as he does so. His brow furrows and he seems visibly irritated, interrupted during the worst possible time. You are as well, though it's more of desperation as you try to silence the way the your body aches for just him.
But as quick as it had begun it all ends, as he rises to his full height and removes his hand from your jaw. It complains with the promise of a hefty bruising, as he uses the same gauntlet to one handed slip his helmet back onto his head.
You can feel him stare at you even through the lenses, as he shifts in his armor and walks past where you stand splayed against the altar, clothes a mess. Your legs wobble as if about to give out from underneath you without his support, a weight like a rock in your lower belly.
He walks down the ambulatory in silence and leaves you alone once more, but you know it won't be for long.
#if you want me to name him and design him feel free to say! but for now you can make him the astartes ken doll of your dreams#warhammer 40k x reader#space marine x reader#black templar x reader#reader insert#reader#mywriting
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It's been a little slow lately...Zzzヘ(_ _ヘ)
I don't know why I cant reply ur comments sorry
#warhammer 40k#warhammer 40k x reader#warhammer x reader#primarch x reader#alpharius x reader#space marine x reader#Blood angels x reader#black templars x readers
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ive been consuming all of your yandere space marine content- i love all of them help (especially the raven bois, i need more content of them im starving)
Aww Anon they all love you too ❤️🔥 like unfathomably in love with you their darling... hopefully you love them back the same
ask and you shall receive @libraryshadow here's the follow up
also @moodymisty because you might enjoy this
tw: SMUT, polyandry, dubious consent at times? Yandere Space Marines, scent kink? Please for the love of the Emperor let me know if I miss stuff
I might not be happy with this because I'm bad with multiple partners in a fic but lets try. I'm sorry if the smut is bad I'm just very bad with multiple partners
As much as Kazi wanted to be the first between their Dove's legs it was agreed that Sor would get the first chance. Dove tries to speak up for herself but Kazi keeps silencing her with such kisses... Sor's mouth moving against her thigh teasing to go higher... or even the way her nipple was inside of Moremo's mouth being swirled around. How the blush danced down her body as her clothing had been slowly stripped off of her body piece by piece as three sets of hands moved over her body with their quiet worship.
Kazi was the loudest in his "worship" moaning your name into your mouth... his hands moving over your body as he pulled your shirt off over your head. Moremo was the perfect middle ground between Kazi and Sor... the older of the three kissed up your spine he could rip through that bra of yours... bite the fabric even use a bit of his betchers gland to make just a bit of acid in his mouth to melt it away but he wouldn't risk hurting you. But however he gets your bra off you shiver pulling your mouth away from Kazi to lean back against Moremo as his large hands cup your breasts. Sor would get to steal his kiss from you and move his mouth down your body, between the valley of your breasts just leaving his tender kisses in his silent praise and "worship" of your body. You let out a shivering breath as you feel the material of your jeans run over your legs as he pulls them off of you slowly. You close your eyes and tip your head back as his hands run down your legs slowly trying to commit the feeling to memory.
But this is when they start to talk about turns and who gets what first. You try to speak up a few times and that is when they kiss you to distract you... it was painfully obvious but you felt so warm... you couldn't stop the feeling. Kazi drools as he can smell your arousal cooing to you, "Do you like this pretty Dove?" He pants softly, "Do you like our bodies pressed up against you? Do you?" He whispers at the end.
You try to hide your face as it feels like you'll be sweating like a canine soon just feeling their naturally hot bodies against yours but you also love the warmth they provide. "Y-yes." You whimper out spreading your legs wide and you buck your hips as Sor kisses your clothed cunt.
Sor starts to hump the bed as he looks between the two. "I want the first go."
"You're the biggest out of all of us. Maybe you should be last." Kazi tries to argue.
"Kazi we both know what will be happening after this. And before you smugly ask me to tell you I'll do it. You'll be buried in her," Moremo paused to swallow his saliva as Sor keeps kissing and nuzzling your clothed sex riling you up and soon you entangle some of your fingers into Sor's hair, "Buried," He says a little gruffly before clearing his throat, "Buried in her most of the time. So because you'll be getting the most access we get our time or full days without you bothering us." Moremo finished.
"I'll want to negotiate this later." Sor coos from between your legs.
"Do I get a say in this?" You finally say trying to push Sor away now.
"No." They say in unison before they go back to kissing you and distracting you.
You feel Sor slowly pull your panties away from your sopping cunt and then you hear some snarling in high gothic from Kazi and you lean more towards Moremo as he looks ravenous. You listen to Moremo snap back before kissing you and trying to calm you down, "There there Dove you just... smell so good. It's made Kazi a little ravenous. Don't worry we won't let him hurt you."
"I'll fucking kill him if he does." Sor snarls in low gothic as he was just rubbing his face against your sex letting your fluid smearing against his skin before his tongue made a lazy swipe of your sex. You open your eyes and just see him tense as he is muttering in high gothic which whatever he is saying makes Kazi look ravenous before you feel him pull you and his tongue is plunged into your sex.
You squeal as Moremo is talking to Sor while Kazi is tongue fucking you. Your slick smearing on his face as your hips buck against his mouth and you pant hard as you're brought to a dizzing height before Kazi is barked at and you whine. Moremo stops your hand as you try to plunge fingers into your own sex to try and ride that orgasm. You nearly scream in pleasure as Moremo's middle finger pushes into your sex.
"That's a good Dove." He coos to you as the other two seem to be groaning like they're in pain from a stomach ache but you would later learn they were doing some technique to not just jump your bones and probably seriously injure you. They want you to enjoy your first time with them. "Yeah just like that." You work his finger into your sex as you turn away from the others and find your tongue laced with his. Unaware of how the other two watch like half mad animals.
"Moremo... Moremo! It wont fit." You pant out feeling his ring finger get itself wet and probe at your entrace.
"Hush Dove it will fit. Just. Like. This." He finally gets the other finger inside of you and you hug him tightly stilling your whole body. "Yeah good Dove... we've got to make sure Sor doesn't hurt you."
"What do you mean by..." You turn finally seeing that Sor was now fully naked. Your eyes widened at the throbbing flesh between his legs that he was lazily stroking. "That is not going inside of me."
"It will fit... it's fit in someone slightly smaller than you." Sor purrs and slides up behind you rubbing his cock against your cunt and Moremo's hand gathering up the slick from your wet and dripping cunt.
"Sor... it won't fit I haven't had sex in awhile." You admit and the three groan. Sor kisses your shoulders eagerly. Moremo puts you on your back and starts to spread your lips. You whimper at feeling so stretched and trembling. You hardly notice Sor's cock sinking into you till you notice Moremo's slipped away.
Sor rocks against you slowly as you pant in pleasure trying to wrap your legs around his waist. His hips meeting yours slowly as he watches your face... the way your eyes roll back in pleasure and the bounce of your breasts. You don't last long... you always hated being edged because it made you so quick to orgasm after and then that usually left you frustrated. There was no frustration as you orgasmed around the fat cock inside of you just a drunken pride at the winded noise from Sor and the ripping of fabric besides your head. His hips jerk a little bit faster.
He snarls as he empties into you not expect him to cum so quickly but with how Kazi's and even Moremo's cocks are weeping they probably wont last long as well. Kazi practically jumps on you as Sor pulls away and you arch as suddenly you're full of cock again.
"Kazi! Kazi! Slow down!" You moan out as you buck back against his hips.
"C-cant! Going to cum soon! Need to feel you wrapped tightly around me!" He says thrusting into you quickly as he builds you back up to a dizzying high which isn't hard given how his cock seems to brush against your clit or put pressure on it. "Moan my name pretty bird!" Kazi pants out.
You can feel his heavy balls slapping against your skin as he folds himself more to get to your lips and kiss you hard thrusting hard into your poor sex. He starts to gyrate his hips in a way that just makes you see stars and you squeal once again. Tight walls flutter and dance around his angrily throbbing cock which causes Kazi to cum deep inside of you.
Kisses pepper your cheeks as you take a moment to come down from the high before Moremo crawls on top of you. "Oh by the Throne no more."
"Just one more Dove... just once again into the breach." He says pushing is cock into your overflowing cunt. How Kazi's and Sor's cum helped Moremo just glide into your sex so easily. You moan and groan as you feel sore from how Sor stretched you and from how Kazi's hips bucked against yours but Moremo keels. His hands on your ass as he fucks you intimately but still in a position to help get you off quickly. His mouth and yours mingle again.
"I... I can't." You pant softly.
"You're our good girl," Kazi purrs, "So pretty in the throws of an orgasm." He breathes into your ear.
"Such a brave dove... our brave Dove." Sor sensually whispers to you and your eyes flutter a bit as you buck your hips against Moremo's a little faster. "Yes look at you Dove. You can handle so much... three Astarte cocks should be easy for you."
"Yes just like that Dove." Moremo moans bucking his hips a little faster and harder as you tighten around him as the encouragement of the others before you squeal once more and tighten around him.
Moremo groans into your shoulder as he spills his seed inside of you and he pulls out as you just lay there panting hard. You feel Sor and Kazi lay beside you just snuggling you as you feel sore but also very good... a good boneless feeling. And you doubt anyone would blame you for passing out after all that.
#tw: yandere#tw: smut#tw: dubious consent#Yandere#Yandere Space Marine#Space Marine#Yandere Raven Guard#Raven Guard#warhammer 40k#x reader#Space Marine x reader
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I heard some of you were looking for Kyle. Who am I if not a provider?
Summary: Abbadon wants a companion for the night.
Word Count: 1461
Content Warnings: General 40kness, smut, once my Catholic guilt arc is over it’s over for all of you
Image Credit: @squishyowl
You looked out of the window of your cell. It was the one comfort you had here, and the view was almost beautiful. Silent columns of lightning stretched out between magenta clouds, churning away faster than they ever could on any planet. Iron bars marred the view somewhat, but you had to take what you could get in this strange land. The rest of your cell was pitifully dreary, with a curtain closing off what resembled a restroom and a slab of… something that resembled a bed. You chose not to look at those parts. At least, not now.
You heard footsteps coming down the hall. They were heavy and loud, announcing the presence of maybe two or three members of the Black Legion. You barely turned your head from the window before they fiddled with the keys to your cell, almost ripping the bars off of each other. You recognized one’s speech in Low Gothic, but it took you a few moments to really process it.
“The Despoiler wants a word with you.”
You tensed up. They surely couldn’t mean… No matter. You put one foot in front of the other and joined the three hulking men outside your cell. One of them started to walk off, and another prodded you with his chainsword.
“Move.”
You had no choice but to follow these strange men through the halls of the base. You lost track of where you were early on, going into new and uncharted areas of the base. Granted, you’d only ever seen the prison, so this was not a failing of your navigational skills. You hadn’t time to marvel at the interior despite being confined to your cell for what felt like weeks, you and your captors were walking too fast. You had to slightly jog to keep up with them.
Soon enough, you were upon a large door. You ran your fingers along the intricate woodwork, not having felt varnished wood in ages. Two of those strange men looked down at you as you lowered your hand. Another one turned on his vox machine.
“She’s here,” he said, stepping back from the door. The others did so as well, prompting you to do the same.
After a few moments, the door clicked open. You beheld a man taller than the three around you, the first without a helmet that you’d seen in a long while. He had a long top knot at the top of his head, and his eyes bored into you, unreadable. You immediately looked away, trying not to shake in your poorly put together shoes.
“Leave,” he said as the three behind you turned tail and left, muttering to one another.
He watched them as they left before turning his gaze back to you. “You can come in, you know.”
You looked up at him and slowly walked into the room. It must be his private chambers; it was filled with ornate things that you couldn’t have even dreamed of while in your cell. Your eyes darted from the paintings on the wall to the table and chairs built for someone his size. He walked towards the bed, sitting on it as it slightly gave way underneath him. “Come,” he said, scooting over slightly.
“Why do you bring me here?” you asked, rubbing your upper arm with your hand.
He smirked. “I just wanted a bit of company tonight.” He called your name. It was a bit strange on his lips, but it was the first time someone had referred to you by name instead of number.
Was it night? It was impossibly hard to tell in this space between space. You found yourself walking towards the bed and sitting on it next to him as he took his gauntlets off, then his pauldrons, then the rest of the armor adorning his arms. You couldn’t help but notice rippling muscles as your heart beat quicker in your chest.
“Not like I have a choice in the matter,” you said after a moment.
He chuckled. “If you do not wish to be here, I could grab another.”
“No-“ you interjected before you could stop yourself.
He continued taking off his armor, pulling his breastplate over his head before casting it aside. “Good,” he said. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and you tensed up yet again.
“I will not hurt you, unless that is something you desire.”
You looked up at him. He was looking down at you with… reverence, almost. You felt your face go warm as he took your chin in his hand. His grip was firm, but you could tell that he was holding back.
He let go and leaned down to take off his lower armor, and you watched intently as pieces fell to the floor, softly clanking against other pieces. He looked down at you and smirked once he was finished. It was then when he leaned in for a kiss, pressing against soft skin. You were taken aback for a minute before you reciprocated. He grabbed your hips and turned the rest of you to face him, your legs resting against his waist.
He brushed the sides of your shirt up, fabric gathering underneath his hands. You let out a soft moan before freezing, and he pulled away.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.
You slowly nodded. He went in for a kiss again, this time biting your bottom lip. You squeaked, grasping for his body glove. You felt him chuckle against you, hands moving underneath your shirt up your back. He pulled away again, his hands moving to your thigh.
“Take it off,” he barked.
Without hesitation, you pulled your shirt over your head. He looked down at you for a moment, running a hand over your body.
“Good girl,” he said, pressing you down onto the bed before planting his teeth on your collarbone. It wasn’t enough to draw blood, but it was going to leave a mark. You let out another high-pitched squeak, and he made another mark even lower. When he had his fill, he went down to your breast and took your nipple in his teeth.
“Abbadon…” you moaned as he bit you there. That was also going to leave a mark.
“What is it?” he asked before moving to your other side to do the same thing. You yelped, your fingers pressing into his back as he trailed lower. He was kneeling before you when he made his way between your legs, pulling your shoes and pants off and parting your legs with ease. He began to feast, eliciting soft cries from you. He reached places you thought someone could never reach, and before long, you came hard on him.
He pulled away, fiddling with the zipper on his body glove before taking it all off. You looked at him in awe before he pinned you down again, your fingers interlocking with his. He planted a quick kiss to your lips before he rubbed himself against you and you looked up at him, pleading.
“You will have to beg for it,” he said, grazing himself against you.
“Please…” you murmured. “Please put yourself in me. I want you.”
“More than anything you’ve ever wanted?”
“More than anything I’ve ever wanted.”
He put himself in, and you cried out. “You are taking me so well,” he said as he slid in further. You couldn’t form any cohesive sentences in response, so you let yourself cry out. He slid himself in to the hilt and stayed there for a minute, watching your face scrunch up and listening to your little yelps before he pulled himself out to do it all again. He started to go faster, and you felt your eyes rolling back. Here you were, stark naked, stretched out over him.
You came a second time, much more loudly and violently than the first. Abbadon smirked above you, victorious. His hands moved to your wrists as he kept going, and soon you realized how much stamina was granted to an Astartes. He kept you up long into the night before he started to speed up one last time. You were loud, and he stuck a few fingers in your mouth. He grunted something in his Cthonian tongue before he shot his load into you, once, twice, then a third time.
Liquid leaked out of you as he pulled himself out of you for the last time and shifted you fully onto the bed. He held you close to him. You relaxed into his hold as he ran a hand through your hair.
“You will not have to spend another day rotting in that cell,” he said.
You closed your eyes and sleep soon took hold of you. You slept better than you had in weeks.
@kit-williams
#ezekyle abbadon x reader#warhammer 40k x reader#space marine x reader#reader insert#ezekyle abbadon#warhammer lobotomy#hes got a yee yee ass haircut but also nice abs so#I know the khan has the same but he wears it better#also ive noticed my fics are getting progressively longer#im gonna write a novel guys. Brb#mating press march
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