#lorgar horus and vulkan will be coming ASAP

[angronsjewelbeetle]

Fuck it I'm posting what I got so far before I really do conk out

First kisses with the Primarchs ~♡ Pt 3

Includes: Magnus, Alpharius/Omegon, Guilliman

Alpharius/Omegon: You’re settled between them, reading, with who you’re fairly sure is Omegon reading over your shoulder, and Alpharius seemingly half asleep with his head resting on yours. Omegon paws at your book when you go to turn the page - muttering about how he wasn’t done reading. “It’s nice that you can tell us apart,” Alpharius says suddenly, “yeah?” you hum as Omegon releases the page, “I agree,” he says, “even if you do mess up sometimes,” you snort at him and he smirks, leaning right into your personal space. “For example,” he mutters, your only warning being a quick glance at  your lips before his are on them, light stubble scratchy against your skin. “Wh- hey!” Alpharius says, amused and petulant as his hand comes into view to shove Omegon off you. He turns your face to his with a gentle hand, Omegon scoffs behind you and lifts the book off your lap as Alpharius kisses you, smooth and a little clumsy, his nose bumping yours as he barely remembers to turn his head, he tastes like sweet coffee. You blink as he pulls away looking rather smug. “You thought he was Alpharius,” Omegon says knowingly. 

Magnus: “By all accounts it doesn’t make sense!” Magnus exclaims, jolting you out of your drowsy state as he sits up with his hands curled, he looks at you and sighs, settling back down, “and to make matters worse, my darling star isn’t even listening to me!” he says dramatically, flopping backward against the pillows with the back of his hand against his forehead, bright hair shifting ethereally. You watch as some of his curls reach out towards you like creeping plant’s tendrils and reach up to let them tangle around your fingers idly as you sigh; he’s pouting, bottom lip pushed out petulantly like a child. “I am listening, Magnus,” you say, he huffs, peering at you through his barely-open eye, still posing. “If I kiss you,” you say quickly before he can open his mouth again, “will you finally let me sleep?” you ask, lowering your hand as his hair relinquishes its delicate grip on your fingers. He’s silent for a moment and you yawn, he rolls onto his side to look at you properly, eye alight with swirling emerald green and gold, “that may be your best bet,” he says finally, lifting up the covers so you can wriggle in close enough to bump your nose against his. You close your eyes and kiss him as he tucks the covers around you, he smells like spices and musk and something that tingles your nose and sends shivers up your spine.

Guilliman: Roboute is face down against his desk when you enter, you clear your throat, he jolts upright, eyes wide and a paper sticking to his chin, he stares at you, unseeing. “Hi,” you say softly, giving him a little wave. He shakes his head, paper fluttering to the floor, “uh,” he says intelligently, and then “good morning, darling,”, which is a little odd, seeing as the sun is beginning to duck behind the horizon and bathing the room in vibrant orange light. You say as much and he whips his head around to stare at the setting sun. His shoulders drop as he turns back to you with an exhausted sigh, planting his head in his hands, “I don’t think I want to know how many meals I’ve missed,” he mutters as you pat his thigh comfortingly. He looks at you and leans back, offering his arm as a solid climbing piece for you to clamber into his lap. “Poor thing,” you say sympathetically, cupping his cheeks, stubble rough and spiky under your palms. He chuckles and tilts his chin up, pressing a kiss to your lips with a loving smile. His stubble scratches your chin and he sighs into your mouth - right as his stomach lets out a loud rumble.