your friend's older brother that smells of cigs and sweat, wears dirty looking jeans and is constantly growing out his hair. he says he wants to start a hard rock band, but your friend tells you he only really practices when you come over, slashing his drums while his bedroom door is wide open, even though he hung up a sign demanding to keep it closed. your friend's older brother that keeps trying to annoy you, always gives you a side punch instead of saying hi, comes to you and your friend just to steal your bag of chips without a word or to say you look like two little fags when you're watching a movie in bed together. your friend's older brother that goes around the house shirtless, with a can of beer in his hand and offers you a sip just to spill it all over your shirt and mock you. don't you know you're too young for this? your friend's older brother that refuses to move from the door and makes you change in front of him, making comments on how scrawny you are - you have to get some muscle with a face like that, you'd be sooo dead in prison. your friend's older brother that always leaves the door half open when he goes for a piss, almost inviting you in. your friend's older brother that joins you on your sleepovers, makes fun of your gaming skills and insists to play against you (but you're not falling for it again since the time he punched you in the stomach to win), that waits until you and your friend fall asleep to jerk off sniffing your sweaty clothes and heavy breathing into your skin while you pray he doesn't see your raging boner in the dark. your friend's older brother that avoids you in the morning but leaves his wet boxers in your backpack
size kink but not how you think. hear me out, make it so the smaller one is absolutely destroying the bigger one.
Picture this, gn!reader seeing big subby man crying, whimpering, pleading for just a touch, kiss, graze…anything. Letting out a small, content whine when you pull his hair and coo at his sweet antics. His big puppy eyes glazed over, looking into yours with his silent pleas. His big face cradled in your smaller hands kissing and suckling at your fingers, drawled out whimpers and mewls encouraging you to push against his tongue harder.
“This what you want baby? You just needed my touch pretty slut? Show me just how desperately you need it.”
Such a slow and monotonous day. Never before did the Night Lords think they would see their Primarch do something as… mundane as paperwork. He had removed his armor before leaving, deciding that sparring would exhaust his appetite for other things he had in mind. He could still benefit from additional physical exertion, which is why he sprinted back to the quarters shared by him and his wife.
Closing the iron door behind him, their home was quiet. Nothing he could recall could have taken her out of their home aside from their earlier rendezvous. She was often on the large couch, sipping tea while reading; however, the sofa was empty.
He crept to their bedroom, his pulse speeding up in concern until he finally saw her. Lyra was laying in bed, still clothed from before. She had no shoes on, but she was asleep. She looked so small amongst the large bedding, her dress spread around her. He did not want to disturb her at first, but knew that his intrusion onto their large bed would rouse her from sleep. He could use a nap, if it meant she’d be there, he thought.
Knowing it was a losing effort, he still moved as gently as he could to be beside her. Wrapping his arms around her torso, he heard her whimper, roused from sleep.
Curze placed a gentle kiss on her neck. “It’s just me, little wife.”
Lyra whimpered again. “…Did I fall asleep?”
“You did,” he said, amused at her question.
“I just meant to shut my eyes — what time is it?” She turned over to face him.
“Time for me to return to you, my love,” He replied.
“Did you ever find out about that inventory situation?” She asked, then stretching her body out while he held her.
“The mind-numbing task of documentation continues to show no leads. I will leave it to Jago in the morning to sort it out. I…The Night Haunter cannot be doing inventory for more than a few hours,” he mused.
“You looked so frustrated sitting there.”
“I was, until you came to boost my morale.” He grinned. He then pulled her closer, kissing her lips and feeling her melt in his arms. She moaned into the kiss softly.
“Did it help?” She asked, pulling away momentarily.
“I might be plagued by nightmares, visions and sleepless nights, but combing through inventory ledgers would drive a sane man to become even worse.”
Lyra chuckled. “My poor Primarch,’ she teased. ‘Perhaps instead of torture and skinning people alive, you can have them do spreadsheets like Lord Guilliman?”
Curze grunted at the mention of his brother, “I should have asked HIM to do such a task — how he enjoys things like that is anyone’s guess. He’d have probably found it in less time than I would have!”
“You should probably have better relationships with some of your brothers — at least the ones that don’t irritate you too much.”
Curze growled in frustration. “Dealing with such hypocrites is something you’re too good at. You get to be sweet, funny, laugh at their stupid jokes, hear about the Imperium’s gossip, and then you come home to me.”
Lyra grinned, and propped her head up with her fist. “You think I only go to be superficially nice to them?”
“Well, isn’t that what diplomats do? Try to be nice and make sure nobody kills you?”
“I mean… I suppose it’s… I suppose it’s somewhat relevant.”
“And you do find it an absolute bore when you speak with Dorn, don’t you?”
“My love’ Lyra began, looking more amused, ‘There is a difference between being fake and having manners.”
“Manners are just the thing you do that everyone else is also doing. Do you mean to be nice? No. Are you all trying to not cause political conflict within the Imperium? Yes.”
“No, manners are how you behave towards others and show respect.”
“But do you actually respect any of them?”
“Yes, I do!”
“Like who?”
“Lord Calgar, Lord Vulcan, Lord Fulgrim, Sanguinius (before the problems)…”
Curze scoffed at the names mentioned. “And do you honestly think they enjoy your company, or just do not want to cause issue with the 8th Legion?”
Lyra’s expression changed then; it went from one of playfulness to one of discomfort.
“What is it, little wife?” Curze, asked, concerned.
“My love…my husband…’ she sighed and met his gaze. ‘They regard me and the children quite fondly - even our son - but you, not so much.”
Curze’s brows furrowed. “Then what do they say about me, that you do not tell me from your visits?” He asked, voice lowered in anger.
Lyra sighed again. “Konrad, I don’t—”
“Tell me what they say about me!” He yelled, making her jump.
“They laugh at you, alright? Konrad, they laugh at you! They ask me why someone such as myself would ever choose to be with someone as backwards as you.”
Curze released his wife to ball his fists, seeing nothing but utter contempt for his brothers and their ilk. “You do not go back there, to any of them,” He said, flatly, trying to control his temper.
“I do tell them how much you’re working on things, how you have not killed me,” Lyra said, attempting to lighten the moment.
“I would never kill you. Do they see you unharmed, and happy, yet assume I would harm you? Do they think I forced you to have our daughter?”
“Konrad, don’t.” Lyra said, trying to calm him by placing her hand on his arm.
Curze left the bed and began pacing in front of her. “I send my wife — MY wife — to conduct business relations with those…idiot brothers of mine. And in turn, they mock me in front of her!”
“It bothers me too, my love, but come lay back down. Please?” Lyra moved closer to him, kneeling on the bed.
“Little wife, they insult YOU when they insult ME — do you not see that?”
“I just said it bothers me, Konrad.”
“Therefore, I am angry on both our behalves. My beautiful wife should not be mocked by these idiots!” Curze started arguing to himself in Nostraman, while Lyra could only watch momentarily.
“Primarch Curze!” She yelled.
“WHAT?!” He impulsively shouted back, pausing to look at her.
“Come sit,’ She asked, softly. ‘Please? For me?”
Curze looked at Lyra, a concerned expression on her face. Reluctantly, he did as his wife requested.
Lyra came to hug him from behind. “Do you know why it bothers ME, when they joke about you, my love?” She asked, softly.
“No,” he replied, heart still racing and his breathing fast.
“Because I know how much work you do for me. How much you try to be better - if not for everyone, for me at least.”
The heat of Lyra’s body and her words slowly allowed Curze to relax a little.
“They do not know the nightmares are not as frequent these days. They do not know you are at least trying to control your temper. And you let yourself be vulnerable more so than ever in your entire life—”
“For you, little wife,” he interjected, his voice, calmer than before. Curze shifted and laid back down onto the bed, pulling Lyra to lay on top of him. She pressed her ear to his chest, listening to his hearts beating — still fast, though probably slower than moments ago.
“You did not believe you could ever love, or be loved, for that matter,” She continued.
“Yet you lay here, unharmed, in my arms.”
Lyra smiled, though he could not see it. “The jokes upset me because they do not know the you that I do. You are no Sanguinius—”
Curze growled hearing his brother’s name.
“I know, I know,’ She said hearing his irritation, ‘But I have a point to make. I did not ask for you to be perfect when we first married, and I do not ask for perfection now. All I have ever asked for is ‘better’, and you do that. You do better. For me, for our children, for yourself even! And all you ask for me to do in exchange is listen.”
“You do listen, and… none of what I say seems to scare you off.”
“Do you want me to be so frightened that I leave you?” She challenged, immediately feeling his grip on her tighten.
He didn’t have to say anything for her to know his answer.
She shifted herself higher, to reach his neck, gently kissing him there. She could hear a small moan leave him, his grip shifting to cup her ass. She giggled. “If it helps, my love, I don’t want to leave you, either.”
“Yet I keep trying to get rid of you,” Curze replied his tone more humorous.
“Primarch Curze, even if you were to throw me out the air lock, I will cling to the side and learn to hold my breath.”
He had to laugh at that, the willpower of his wife amused him at times. Lyra then began kissing his neck again.
“Little wife… how you can take me out of my anger so easily continues to surprise me.”
“Did anyone care when you got angry before me?”
“They often tried to appease me, or run, or fight.”
“And what do I do?”
“Mock me, relentlessly?”
Lyra blushed at his accusation, playfully hitting his chest. “I do not!”
“Of course you do, little wife. Which reminds me,’ Curze lowered his hand down Lyra’s leg, sliding it back up underneath the hem. He did not stop this time, and she moaned softly as he cupped bare ass. ‘Ah, so you did listen to my orders.”
She giggled softly, kissing his neck more. “I always do what my Primarch demands of me,” she flirted back.
“And if I told you to spread your thighs for me? While like this?” He asked, curiously.
To his surprise, he felt her widen her legs on top of him, doing as she was told. “Anything else you’d like from your beautiful wife, Primarch Curze?” She asked, sweetly.
“Little wife, you leave yourself vulnerable to your Primarch’s perversions…” His voice, gently mocking, trailed off, as he moved his hand to between her legs. Her breath caught as he gently found her clit, beginning to tease it with his fingers.
“Konrad, you are terribly evil,” She teased, before moaning softly as his fingers pleasured her.
“But you do enjoy it when I am evil, sometimes?” He continued the pacing of his fingers, as she held onto him, groaning into his chest from the sensation.
“Gods…more, please!”
“You get so wet when I touch you, little wife!’ He teased, still working her. ‘Tell me, when you touch yourself, do you think of how I touch you?”
“Gods, yes, Konrad — yes!”
“You’re so obedient today, little wife! You pleasure my cock, you don’t wear panties, you hold your legs open at my request…”
“Konrad…make me cum! I need you!”
“Normally, I do not allow my little wife to make such demands, but I feel generous as you have been so good to me,” He continued to tease. He started working her clit faster, feeling her desperately try to keep her legs open, even though the sensation was driving her mad. She groaned, she whimpered, she wiggled under his touch. It was always an absolute delight to watch.
Eventually, he felt her body tense and finally relax as she moaned loudly into his chest. His fingers didn’t stop until she finally trembled and collapsed from pleasure.
“By the Gods, Konrad, you are incredibly evil!” Lyra said, as she eventually caught her breath.
“If you keep calling me evil, little wife, I’ll be forced to show you how evil I can be,” he threatened playfully.
“You must feel better than before, hmm?”
“I would say so. As would you.”
She nuzzled into his neck, kissing it again. “I love you,” she said softly.
“I love you, little wife. How you stay with me is a mystery only the warp knows.”
Making a boy shove his underwear in his mouth as a makeshift gag while I give him a reach around handjob and giggle into his neck about what a cute little slut he is for me.
you can try to whisper to save yourself some dignity, but that's not gonna get very far considering the fact that i will not be.
no silly, i won't quiet down.
hm? of course i can say things like that this loud, ditzy doll, you must've mistaken me for someone with shame.
we'll start off going over our limits. aftercare. safewords. itll seem like a pretty level date at first aside from the eyes on us that will make you blush more as each word leaves your lips. we'll be getting to know each other's boundaries, and thats wholesome enough, isn't it?
and then we'll start talking about what we do like.
as you go down the list, i will purposely tease you over all of it. making you repeat and explain yourself. make you describe the very things that make you tick until your thoughts start to run rampant.
what was that last one, sweetheart? speak up.
i will keep pushing you to describe to me every perverted desire you have while we're being eyed by everyone else in the mall.
then we'll go to Spencer's so we can put our newfound information to use, your underwear slowly growing a wet spot because of all the attention that being a pretty toy in public will get you. we'll pick out a special toy or two to use later. and perhaps a certain accessory.
the date will not end until youre drooling and twitching, completely limp and utterly fucked out with tearstained cheeks and a collar around your throat.
