#serf! reader

The Angel pulls back to gauge your reactions: to see your flushed face, your half-lidded gaze. You're trying to look anywhere but at him, and he corrects that by gently but firmly holding your chin so you can only maintain eye contact with him.

"That is just a taste of my passion for you," he whispers, his eyes drift back to your lips once more, "I would burn planets and carve the very stars in your name if it meant I could kiss you again, to have this forever." That very sentence, he says with such softness, even when it holds such power over what he and his legion are capable of.

You don't know how to respond to that; his words are haunted poetry, and someone is courting you, a primarch of all people. "My Lord-"

"Please, just Sanguinius," he rumbles, smoothing your hair back carefully. "I would rather be anything but an Angel tonight."

How could anyone turn him away? Turn away a Primarch like Sanguinus? It would be anyone's dream to be courted and taken by him, and even though you had your fantasies, you never thought the day would come when you caught his eye.

It thrilled you, this secret escape from your duties to be tended to and desired by a mountain of a man.

"I desire you," Sanguinus brings you out of your trance. He brought his head down towards your neck, and you shudder when you feel his fangs graze lightly over your skin, along your pulse point. Instead of ripping into you like an animal, the Angel nips and sucks at your skin, careful with his pointed teeth as he manages to make your head dizzy and body light, "What say you?"

"I-I," You try to find the right words to state your desire and want for him from the beginning, but all words die on your tongue when you feel his teeth and tongue against your skin, how he cradles you and makes you feel that desire that burns within. You could only wish to recite poetry to him, even when you don't know any. You wish you could burn planets in his name, but you cannot. You were born to serve, and that had been your purpose for as long as you could think. Now, that purpose had been changed.

You finally think of the words that are simple enough for you to say that he would understand in equal measure, "I desire you too."

Sanguinius' lips curve into a smile against your neck; the bruises he has begun marking on you are a reminder of his patience, his and his alone. You are his; he will make sure all in the galaxy know that, and now that he has made himself clear and your desire for him is told, he can gladly show what he truly is.

"My wonder, my light," he purrs, his lips find yours again with as much ardency as the first, and you find it easier to match his pace and a way to press your lips fully against his without being overcome, "my stars, my everything." He continues to murmur against you; those praises are the soothing remedy that you will take to your grave.

The two of you stay like that for some time, cradled in his arms as he takes from you what he had been missing. You can feel some restraint tethering from the Angel: he grips you a bit tighter, his tongue darts to run over your bottom lip, and you accept the intrusion. His tongue, like everything about him, is large.

It takes a bit of trial and error to not clash teeth awkwardly, but you both find it easier the more you explore, and you find yourself blissfully sighing in his arms.

That blissful ignorance opens up when you feel hands drift to the front of your robes. Sanguinius' throat bobs. "May I?"

You nod, looking anywhere but at him when he slowly unravels the buttons of your robes, discarding the long, red fabric to the ground in haste, the buttons and strings of your tunic and shirt beneath come next, and soon, the bare skin of your chest is revealed to him. He doesn't stop there; his eyes silently plead with you, a wish to continue, and you allow him.

Your trousers and shoes come next, until you're laid bare in front of him. There have been a few times when you have been bare in front of another, and you can't help the way your body reacts. The air hits your skin, pebbling with excitement and nerves when hungry eyes stare down at your chest. Your nipples stand to close attention, and Sanguinius silently marvels at your entirety as if in a trance.

"You're beautiful." He murmurs, you expect him to just grope at your chest hungrily, begin his trail down between your legs to have what he wants, but instead, he surprises you. He lifts you gently back to your feet; his immense size, even whilst kneeling, has you amazed, even when he is eye level with you.

You watch him, how he starts by trailing kisses up towards your neck, kissing lightly over the bruise flowering on your skin, down your collarbones, he presses a soft kiss above your breast, where your heart lies, beating frantically for only him to hear. 

He continues, his hands warm against your skin, moving where his mouth does: across your collarbones, lightly teasing your pert nipples. He trails lower down your body, his kisses continue, over your arms, shoulders, he kisses into the palm of your hands, down your stomach, your navel, and above your belly button, slowly, ardently. You cannot look at him whilst he does this, the immense beauty of him worshipping your body when it should be you kissing the ground he walks on is too much!

Tears pool in the corner of your eyes from the love, the need, the yearning that comes from him silently pressing kisses to every piece of your skin, like you're art. He kisses scars, freckles, and does not cower from what you think are the hideous parts of you, where curves sit that you detest; he loves feverishly.

"M-My lord- Sanguinius!" You fail in keeping your voice down, your legs quiver, but he keeps you upright. Sanguinius does not respond to you, but his enlarged eyes look up at you briefly, curiously, hurriedly. "I'm not worthy of your love!" You cry out, face flushed as if you have succumbed to a fever. 

Sanguinius presses a final kiss just below your belly button, but he does not rise from his position. He stares up at you, tilting his head as if in a teasing, charming look. "You are worthy of my love, my dove." You shuddered when his hands slowly parted your legs apart, his face ever so close, tickling at your pubic hairs. "I will show you."

And showed you, he did.

Sanguinius did not waste a second pressing his face between your legs, his mouth finding your mound. Still holding you by your hips, he lifted you with ease onto his shoulders to give him better access. You clung to him, hands finding themselves running through his silky, long locks, trying to hold on for stability and the overwhelming sensation that was mounting in your core. 

This time, your moans were welcomed. Sanguinius moaned against you, in time with you, feasting as if this would be his last meal. His fangs did not pierce your skin, but you found yourself ever excited if they grazed lightly over your flesh.

One hand found your nipple, pinching the bud lightly, switching to the other as his tongue found your entrance, feverishly delving in for more. You couldn't believe how deprived you had been, how easily you were about to cum so quickly. Embarrassment washed over you alongside the other heated emotions.

You didn't know if you were speaking coherently at this point, head swaying with the looming feeling that you would come undone very soon. You tried warning Sanguinius through stammered breaths, crying out when his hand circled playfully over your clit.

"Sanguinius-Throne! I cannot-" You nearly squeezed your thighs together, but couldn't with the force keeping them open. Sanguinius gave you a once-over look from his lower position. The redness of his eyes wasn't as bright as it once was, and there was a blue hue that mixed, like blood mixing in water. You wondered if clarity was returning to him.

That orgasm that was fastly approaching was halted abruptly: the Angel pulled back everything from you, leaving you an exhausted, bewildered, sweaty mess. Your breathing was laboured, your mind so focused on finishing, now felt glazed, your thighs trembled from the need for more. "W-wha- I-"

The Angel, with you hoisted on his broad shoulders, lowered you gently to the ground, your robe acting as a blanket against the hard, cold marble. He kisses your knees, lowering them slowly, and your legs still shake lightly from his touch.

"I am not done with making you come undone, my light." He said, his fingers rested on your mound, a finger found itself tracing along your clit, lowering to your entrance. 

You lose count of how many times Sanguinius can undo you, but had denied you a climax. He teased you over and over again, denying you to cum regardless of how many times you pleaded or how sweetly you did so.

"One more, and I'll let you." He sweetly said, but that was a lie, again he denied you, even when he had stretched you full on two of his fingers, larger than yours.

When he was done with you, you were a writhing mess, incoherent, delirious, hungry for more. Sweat stuck to your body, and your heart danced in his ears. You were his, and nothing could stop that.

Sanguinius leant over you, pressing open-mouthed kisses to you and your skin, distracting you when you realised his clothes had been shredded, and something long and hard was pressing against your inner thigh. By the time you realised what it was, one leg was up in the air, resting against his chest, slowly testing the waters by guiding the head of his cock against your hole.

"S-Sang-" You inhaled sharply, before feeling his length slowly push itself inside. 

You clenched immediately around him, and even from the foreplay he gave, his size was barely even what his fingers had been. Sanguinius let out a guttural hiss when he pushed in, eyes turning almost completely black, trying to push bit by bit.

Your head lolled back from the size of him, pressing perfectly in all the right places; you couldn't help but clench around him, the sounds he made heavenly.

"Mine," he moaned softly, the sound angelic, his perfect face fell to one of pure pleasure, hair still in place and looking flawless as ever. "My beloved."

He moved slowly once he had bottomed out in you, cock moving in time as you tried to meet his hips, the slight discomfort from the stretch falling into genuine pleasure. You cried out beneath him, trying your best not to cum so quickly despite not being allowed to, your orgasm rose and rose the more he thrusted inside you.

Faster, deeper, he pressed some of his weight against you, and you felt the immediate primal feeling take over you. You needed all of him, needed everything he could give.

"Please!" You whined, but you were uncertain you had the words to say it. Your mouth had fallen open, words became mush, so you had to resort to using your eyes in hopes he understood. 

"Please, what?" He asked, that smile was teasing and lilt, he looked down upon you with such grace and love, but his hips did not stop their brutal pace. 

Your throat was incapable of speech, words from mind to mouth jumbled, but you could still sense he was delighted in playing with you, in trying to make you speak when you couldn't form sentences. "S-Sang-- Sanguinius," you whined low, "please... cum, I-"

"Cum for me, my dear." Sanguinius had some compassion for you; his thrusts did not stop their pace nor the angle. A sharp, high-pitched cry came from you, "cum around my cock."

You did just that, the dam exploded and outpoured the previously denied orgasms. Your entire lower body quivered when your orgasm came, and from it, words of encouragement from Sanguinius, his thrusts growing sloppier.

"Throne- I'm-" What came next almost seemed like a waking dream. From his very eyes was you, swadled in his legion's colours, you were glowing, radiant as the sun, as he gently caressed the large bump you carried. His eyes almost watered from the sight, his hips trying to keep up as he cried out from both orgasm and vision.

Sanguinius snapped his hips against yours, whispering to himself as he hoped his seed would take root within you. 

His cum had flooded you unexpectedly; the sheer amount of it was already leaking out of you despite not having pulled out. The Angel's eyes were clear as a blue sky, tearing up and glazed over, slowing his thrusts to come down from the high, but still staying within.

Silently, he pulled you off him, pulling you back to his chest, his cock pulling out as cum leaked out from you.

Sanguinius spooned you from behind, head nuzzling between your neck. You were overcome with emotions as the two of you lay beside one another, basking in the afterglow.

"Forgive me," he murmured against your skin. He seemed to be overcome by his previous actions, the fear he had put you through: "I am the one unworthy of you."

"My angel," You struggled to roll to face him, doing so as you cradled his face, "all is forgiven." You kissed him softly, and he reciprocated with great enthusiasm.   

"I shall have a bath drawn for us in my chambers," he smiled earnestly, a blush appeared on his features as he looked around the room you had both ruined, "if we can reach there without someone spotting us in the nude."

A/N: All hail the bush!

Relieved to feel the stress ease from your shoulders, you were thankful he heard and was allowing you inside. Quickly and carefully entering, the wine in hand was in an ornate, golden jug; its weight in gold alone was the heaviest part of it, then adding liquid made it somewhat impossible to carry.

"My Lord," You spoke as calmly as possible, keeping your head low. "I have brought your wine."

The first thing you spotted in his usually neat room was how much of a disarray it was in. Paperwork was scattered, drawings and writings strewn on the floor. You almost stepped on one of his lovely feathers; the length of it was bigger than your forearm. You dared not look up to see if he was okay, for fear you would be met with something else. 

You could sense the Angel at his desk; the hum of otherworldly power that came from the side of the room told you so. He had not discarded his gilded armour yet; usually, he would've replaced it with simpler robes, but you couldn't understand why. There was a faint smell of oil in the air, maybe from an engine, but you could not smell it over the overpowering smell of incense.

Sanguinius hummed, drawing your attention as he rose, moving slowly. You retreated when you placed the wine down, allowing him to pour his cup to how much he needed. He moved slowly, almost sluggishly, to the table, pouring a little amount into his golden chalice.

The Angel surprised you once more; his figure moved to sit on the end of his very large bed. The frame dipped and groaned from his weight before settling, a silence filling the air with periodic sips coming as he drank.

You waited awkwardly: usually, he would've asked about your day by now, and you would've found conversation to flow the more you opened up to him. You liked how he laughed, a soft, melodic chime, music to your ears. Instead, he was silent, too quiet for you to know something was very wrong.

Finally, bringing your attention back to you, he spoke, his voice almost raspy.

"Do you fear me, little one?"

His question surprised you: never once did he frighten you. He was a Primarch, of course, his stature was intimidating even whilst sitting down, the raw strength was thrice as strong as any mortal man. But so did his many brothers, and some of them intimidated and frightened you more than he did. Sanguinius was always sweet to you, speaking to you with a soothing voice as if you were an injured animal. He asked about your family, about your past, your goals and your future. 

"My Lord, I could never-" you looked up at him for the first time since entering the room, your words suddenly dying on your lips, "be afraid." You managed to finish your words.

Sanguinius had already been staring over at you, his cup ignored, his undivided attention all on you.

There was something off with the Angel; you could not place what it was. His hair was slightly dishevelled than normal, and the golden hue seemed a bit paler in the moonlight. His skin, too, looked paler than it normally did. His beauty was different to most men: there was an otherworldliness about him that made him stand out from his brothers, a beauty that stirred within people and made them swoon. He was handsome, an ethereal man with features you could find attractive. But it wasn't those things that had made you feel uncomfortable.

Perhaps it had been his eyes.

You had seen eyes like those before: of the falcons and owls your mother owned, of their eyes when they sharpened in on something they spotted. Sanguinius had that exact stare: sharpened, focused, unblinking. You could see in real time the way his pupils dilated and constricted a fraction, as if he were slowly taking you in, as if you were something a bird would chase.

"Come closer," Sanguinius spoke, and you obeyed silently. Your feet shuffled slowly, as if moving on their own towards him. Your free will had left, something primal had remained within you: that fight/flight feeling that had your heart racing, and nerves swelling. 

Sanguinius could sense it too, sense it in the way you watched him, observed him with the natural graces of a fawn, he, a wolf. You were close enough to him now that you could hear his deep breaths, the heaviness in his breathing as he tried to make himself as small as possible, failing when he had large wings poking out of him. 

"Do," he loomed over you, the dilated pupils made his eyes look almost black now, you could see your tiny reflection looking back through them, "you fear me?" He repeated, slower, enunciating every word.

"No." You didn't know if you were lying or not. Some part of you wanted to flee the room screaming, the other part felt compelled to reach out to him, to feel the strength of a man in your tiny palm. "Should I?" You risked the question, licking your lips nervously.

Sanguinius pulled back slightly as if out of a trance, flashing a white smile that did not reach his eyes, "You have always been so loyal to me." He surprised you, reaching out first, a large, calloused hand tracing up your forearm, feeling and enjoying the way your skin pricked with goosebumps. "Always an angel."

You couldn't believe yourself an angel when there was one right in front of you! How could he, the Great Angel, call a mere mortal and serf an angelic being?

"You do not believe me." He hummed, his long fingers traced thoughtfully along your arm, and you felt caged in a way that did allow you the freedom to move away from him. "I can prove it."

"How?" Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Sanguinius was still smiling down at you, and it was only then that you realised his eyes were not just blue anymore, they had bled through to a sanguine hue, bright, powerful, intense. "A lovely thing like you would want to please their Angel?" His voice was low, reverberating through you, "To please their Primarch?"

"Yes."

He delicately and suddenly removed his hand from your arm, the absence of immense warmth something you missed. "Do exactly what I say, do not call for aid until I see appropriate."

You tilted your head in confusion to his cryptic wording, but slowly nodded as if in understanding. You do want to please him; you wish to make him happy. "Ok, my Lord."

"Good." It was eerily strange: the deepness of his voice did not sound like it belonged to him, nor to any being you could recognise. "Now. Run."

You sometimes wondered if you had any luck at all in life, or if fate had neatly presented you nicely on a silver platter.

Even though you were familiar with the corridors aboard the Red Tear, adrenaline and fear coursed through you, rendering you as if you had never set foot or grown accustomed to the maps.

Fear clung to you in the sweetest smell. Sanguinius had allowed you a ten-second start before he joined you down the long, winding corridors. Your lighter, clumsy footing compared to his steady, urgent steps did not help in your way out. Where could you go? Your quarters were too small and not the best place to hide. And you certainly could not go and try to find someone for help, that was the one rule the Angel told you.

Your breathing was frantic, pushing yourself to exertion, and walls upon walls looked the same, the more you rounded corners. A left here, sharp right there, a door you can't remember leading to, and suddenly, you realise... You don't actually know where you're going. Your mind has been playing tricks on you, making you pursue a chase you had no way of winning.

You cried out when your hopes were dwindling, muttering to yourself, trying to remember the corridor that led to where, if the door you passed through led to the east wing or the south. How could you allow yourself to lose all concentration? You cursed yourself over and over again.

The rigid door you were approaching could've brought some hope. It was as familiar to you as all the rest of the doors you passed; however, you told yourself, perhaps, it led through to the staff quarters.

You dared not look back; the Angel's footsteps were heavy throughout your chase, and you didn't want to know if he was right behind you or if he had given up.

Reaching the door, you twisted the door handle again, harder, again and again, and again-

No, why was it locked?

You banged hard from the other side, almost crashing your body against the metal wall. Your palms burned the more you banged, calling to anyone to help you.

It was then you realised... You hadn't been concentrating on listening.

You froze, rigid as a cold rushed over you. You could feel your heart in your throat, before turning ever-so slowly, tears slowly pricking at the corners of your eyes.

The Great Angel loomed at the end of the corridor, some twenty feet back, observing you. His wings, large enough to pass with ease through the wide hallways, were spread, making him appear bigger than normal. His golden locks covered his face, his eyes shielded from the curtain, making it difficult to read his facial expressions.

"M-My Lord?" You whimpered, but the Angel stood as a statue, taking you in. You dared not step out of line or step closer towards him, for fear he would reach for you. You didn't know what he could do to you if he caught you, and though there was a fear that rippled through you, you couldn't help but still wish to help him.

You glanced for any other exits. A server door was to the left of you, but it was a few metres in front. You didn't know if you had the speed to get to it in time, even with the door wide open.

Looking away, not keeping an eye out in front, the Angel's body twitched.

You looked back at him, maintaining eye contact. The flare of his wings made him move a bit, but he was still motionless, as if waiting for you to make the first move.

Looking to the server room one final time, you leapt, sprinting as fast as you could.

And Sanguinius followed swiftly.

It was maybe when you took your second step that you realised your mistake: you didn't think you would reach the door before he did. And what then? He was quick and not even trying, you, exerting yourself, lungs burning, heart rushing with adrenaline, you needed to reach the door before him.

Sprinting was not your strength, but you ran as if your life depended on it because it did. Closer and closer to the open door, you were in arm's length of it, the warmth of the wires you could almost feel on your skin. You felt thankful that you could be safe. But one thing about Sanguinus and his speed: despite his size, he was always too fast for anyone to focus on.

Your hand hit the side of the door, and slowly, as if in slow motion, you made the horrid choice to look up to your right. Barreling towards you, the Angel was almost in front of you, his hands outstretched, almost claw-like-

Diving into the room, you let out a scream as his body, not a second later, crashed behind you, and a large crunch came from the collision into the doorway.

You had rolled out of the way, tumbling to the ground, crawling on your hands and knees backwards, away from the door. You stared back at what awaited you.

Sanguinius was far too big for the doorway. The Angel was letting out low, short grunts and hisses, clawing at the door like a frustrated, terrifying feline. Finally, from the entranceway, he met your frightened gaze.

"Do you think a doorway will keep me away from you?" He asked, the question was so simple, but there hid an edge to his words. Lying beneath his usually soft and flowery tone was something menacing, crazed and waiting to be unleashed.

"My Lord-" you stumbled back, trying to pick yourself up again. 

"Why don't you do me a favour and step back out here?" Sanguinius' throat rumbled in a way you didn't think was possible. He softened his words sweetly enough to sound genuine, his eyes looked larger enough to look pleading, but they were glazed over and crazed, bloodshot red, a hunger lurking. "I won't hurt you. And if you're good- I'll treat you like the good girl you are."

Like the good girl you are. You had never heard him praise you like that. It brought butterflies to your core. You wished to swoon at his words, but you didn't want to believe him, didn't want to step any closer to him. You did want to obey him, to step out, but that part of your primitive animal brain was nagging you, telling you how bad an idea that was.

"You're scaring me, my Lord." You whispered, trying to press your back as close to the furthest wall and away from him. He swiped at you, his hands desperately trying to catch the material of your clothing, a desperate attempt to tug you back to him. He continued to swipe at the air. This hulking beast had now taken over him, and you noticed there was a crack that was forming on the side of the wall, deep and slowly stretching wider and wider.

"If you won't come to me," his patience was hanging by a thread, "I will come to you." 

To your horror, you watched as the large Primarch began shredding and tearing at his armour, golden trim clattering to the ground. You dared not look back on him as you tried to search for an exit in this tiny, warm room. until, to your surprise, you found a small vent you could try to get yourself through.

The Primarch had removed most of the ceremite armour before he tried to squeeze himself again. The lack of armour allowed him to get half of his body through, and just before he was about to grab you, the vent had been your saviour.

Crawling helplessly through the dirty, dust-filled vents, you didn't wish to look back on Sanguinius, howling and screaming for you, your name echoing from his anguish. Part of you felt shame for leaving him there; the other part told you to keep going and not look back.

Sanguinius could feel your poor, frantic little heart beating within the walls as he dragged himself out of the cramped room, following you through other corridors, smashing his way through doorways too small for him. He ignored the looks from those who passed him, specifically his sons. They didn't matter in this moment; only finding and reuniting with his lovely dove did!

You crawled out from hell: dust and debris clung to your skin and clothing, your skin felt disgusting, but you felt somewhat safe, trying to leave little evidence of your escape out the vent. Now, in a new part of the ship, you had to navigate a way to find someone to help you. Perhaps Raldoron could find you a safe room to stay in whilst your Primarch raged-

"Oh, little dove!" The voice echoed, and it brought a sense of doom; all hope shrivelled up and died. "Where did you go?"

You couldn't give up now, diving into the closest room you could find, you were surprised you recognised the room. It had been for Sanguinius and his sons to use for drawing and sculpting. Large easels decorated the middle of the room, a large, open space where whoever was being drawn or sculpted could sit. You dove behind the closest easel, pressing yourself into it just as the door crashed open, shuddering against the hinges.

"I know you're in here~" Drawled Sanguinus. You tried to hold your breath, tried to calm your nerves, feeling the Primarch of the IXth legion circle the room slowly, approaching with such disturbing grace that it made you feel queasy. "Why don't you come out now, so you can see your Lord?"

You dared not move, kept yourself as rigid as possible, until the sudden sound of a great distant crash nearly had you screaming. An easel was thrown across the room, destroyed in seconds, and the splintered wood and paper exploded into millions of pieces. Shutting your eyes and covering your mouth was the only thing you could do to stop yourself from crying.

Another went flying, closer to you this time. You tried to stop your whimpers, the footsteps continued round and round, stopping and moving as if he was testing you, toying with you for his entertainment. Whatever this was, it wasn't your Sanguinius: he would certainly not act like this, a cat playing with a mouse.

"Ah," Something startled you as a large hand curled around your ankle, the sudden force of someone dragging you had you screaming aloud, screaming for anyone to hear your pitiful cries for help. "There you are, my dove." Sanguinius held you warmly and fondly to his chest. You fell boneless in his arms, too afraid to continue thrashing in his arms. Tears rolled heavily down your cheeks, desperately trying to plead for your life.

"Please-- I beg-"

"Beg?" Sanguinius paused, as if the very word had slapped him across the face. "No, you will not beg, little one." He propped you so you had no escape, as if he was cradling you like a babe. He kissed your tears away, a lovely smile on his handsome face, trying to distract you from those dilated eyes.

"There will be no need for tears when I can show you just how much you mean to me."

A/N: I enjoyed writing this. I think I would write a second part, more NSFW, but let me know!