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hamsterclaw · 9 months

Text

Desecrate

A fall from grace causes you to stumble into the hands of a demon prince. Inspired by Lilith.

Pairing: Yoongi x f! reader

Word count: 2.6k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sex, swearing, mention of murder, non-explicit attempted assault, angels and demons

Min Yoongi is older than most creatures to walk this Earth, this much he knows. It’s been years since he last felt that any of the petty skirmishes mortals involve themselves in was worth any of his interest or his time.

Even though time, for him, stretches out, almost infinitely.

He doesn’t know your face at all, but you catch his attention, and hold it. He can sense your mortality slipping through your fragile grasp as you grapple with the men holding you down.

You’re not going to win, though he admires your grit.

Yoongi’s no stranger to blood but he has no desire to watch you get used and torn to shreds. He’s moving on when your eyes meet his.

You plead with him wordlessly, desperately, as the light dims in your eyes.

Yoongi knows that this is a dangerous time, the twilight between living and dying. You’re straddling both worlds, dying even as you push uselessly at the hands around your neck.

It would be facetious to say that Yoongi kills without a shred of remorse. It’s more truthful to say that he kills without a thought.

He’s standing amidst the mess he made, you at his feet, your face pressed to the ground.

You’re unconscious, but you’ll live, unlike the men Yoongi dispatched on your behalf.

There’s something unbearable to him about the way the lovely line of your cheek is touching the dirt of this human dumping ground.

Yoongi doesn’t know what possesses him, but he takes you with him as he leaves.

***

You wake in stages, in a very human way.

Your eyes flicker open, shut. Yoongi can hear your heart accelerate, your breathing quicken, he can see your muscles tense.

Your mouth opens on an inhale, and your eyes flicker open again.

‘Where am I?’ you rasp.

Your voice is soft, plaintive, your vocal cords swollen from your assault.

‘You’re in my home,’ Yoongi replies.

When you turn your head to look at him, your eyes are more focused.

‘And who are you?’

‘I saved your life,’ Yoongi tells you.

He watches as your eyes scan the domed ceiling, the painted frescoes, the stained glass. Your gaze stops at a scene of the Madonna.

Yoongi studies your profile, the dirt smudged on your cheekbone he’d not bothered to wipe off.

Your gaze returns to him.

‘You’re Min Yoongi.’

It’s not a question, but Yoongi’s compelled to answer anyway, because the fact that you’ve guessed his identity means there’s more to you than he first thought.

You sit up, and Yoongi wonders how he managed to miss the celestial aura emanating from you.

Lords and beings.

You’re an angel.

Seokjin is never going to let him live this down.

Min Yoongi, ancient slayer of humans, demonic legend from the mediaeval history of man, saved an angel.

Yoongi gets up, lets a tiny fraction of his darkness show. His voice deepens, resonating through the chapel.

‘Leave.’

You’re frightened, he can see it in the way you’re tensed, body held taut like a bow.

‘I can’t. It’s the night of Pandemonium.’

Pandemonium marks the beginning of when the Gates of Hell open each year. From your reaction, Yoongi guesses you’re a young angel, limited in power, incapable of cloaking or protecting yourself.

He laughs sardonically. ‘I don’t think the home of the bulgasari Prince is the right place for an angel on the night of Pandemonium, do you?’

You clasp your hands.

‘I’m not an angel.’

Yoongi stares at you.

‘Not anymore. I was cast out.’

For the first time, Yoongi feels a flicker of interest.

He can feel the scales in his mind threaten to tip by the tiniest of margins.

For the first time, he thinks he might not kill you.

Seemingly unaware of his internal debate, you take a step closer to him.

Towards the most dangerous being in the room.

Yoongi flicks his tongue over his lower lip, steps forward so you can see him in the red glow.

His human form is beautiful, drawing others in. Leading them to their own destruction.

He can see the way your pupils dilate, your tongue wets your bottom lip, as you see him clearly for the first time.

‘You want to stay with me?’ he asks, silky. He takes another step.

You tilt your chin so you can keep looking at him.

‘Show me how much you want to stay.’

Yoongi turns his head towards the painting above the hearth.

‘Destroy it.’

You turn to the painting.

It’s from the 14th century, by a little known Italian painter called Diavollo, depicting the death of Santa Lucia. He was gifted it by a corrupt nobleman in exchange for his life. Yoongi had taken both.

You cast a defiant look at him, rush towards the painting. You stop, head bowed, before it.

‘I can’t.’

‘You can,’ Yoongi says, pitching his voice low, letting the heat of it flare out to you.

You clasp your hands together again, despairing. ‘I can’t.’

Steps heavy, head bowed, you head for the door.

You stop just inside the front entrance to the chapel, as if giving him a chance to change his mind before he sends you to certain death.

Yoongi’s had countless beings plead for mercy from him in his long life and he has never once given in.

There’s a stirring in the recesses of his mind as he admires your profile for the last time. It feels like longing.

Then you’re gone, door swinging closed behind you.

***

Yoongi dislikes gatherings like this, when the princes of Hell and their delegates celebrate their misdeeds in front of the beings who serve them.

If Seokjin hadn’t asked him to attend as a personal favour, Yoongi would be in his home.

Oddly, he’s not been able to look at the Diavollo since you gave your life rather than destroy it.

He wonders if that sort of foolishness is what got you exiled.

He’s thought about your face so much that when he sees you, he’s momentarily stilled.

You’re knelt at the feet of Malvarius, the highest ranking demon of Yeomna’s court, save for Seokjin, and Yoongi himself.

Yoongi watches with revulsion as Malvarius scratches a bloodstained nail along the line of your neck, stopping at the iron collar around your throat.

Malvarius wraps his fist in the chain attached to your collar, tugs.

You fold to the ground in a heap of loose limbs and the sheer drapery he’s dressed you in.

Yoongi finds he still doesn’t care to see your face against the ground.

He approaches the demon, and you.

When you see him, there’s a flicker in your eyes.

‘She’s mine,’ Yoongi says, unceremoniously, to Malvarius.

Malvarius, the treacherous devil, says smoothly, ‘Pardon me?’

‘I made her a deal,’ Yoongi replies, preternaturally calm. ‘She owes me.’

Malvarius sits up, and Yoongi realises there’s a crowd gathering.

It doesn’t take much to have demons baying for blood.

Malvarius draws himself up to his full height.

‘Do you mean to say, Yoongi, that you own the soul of Azariel’s only daughter?’

Yoongi blinks.

Azariel, the most revered of the archangels, is a name that strikes fear even in the hearts of the most seasoned of demon princes.

You’re Azariel’s daughter?

Yoongi remembers the way you cried over the Diavollo as you walked to your death.

You’d not used your father’s name as a bargaining chip.

Yoongi says, coolly, ‘One fallen angel is just like any other.’

‘She’s a lusty slut,’ Malvarius remarks. ‘Can’t stop opening your legs for me, can you, angel?’

You gasp in pain as he pulls up on the chain, making you dance on your toes to keep from being choked.

Yoongi finds he doesn’t care for the sight of you in pain, either.

‘Give me what’s mine,’ he says, bored. ‘Or we can ask Yeomna to mediate.’

At the mention of the lord of Hell, Malvarius scowls. The last time he clashed with Seokjin, Yoongi had come very close to removing his power, Yeomna’s rules be damned.

He tosses the chain on the stone floor with a clang.

‘To your new master,’ he says, with little grace.

Yoongi removes the collar from around your neck.

‘Follow me,’ he commands.

Yoongi leads you through the debauchery, ignoring your gasps and sobbing breaths as you step through blood, entrails, sex.

It’s only when you’ve followed him all the way back to his door that he speaks to you.

‘I’m deciding what to do with you,’ he tells you. ‘You will stay here, whilst I decide.’

‘My father won’t engage in barter for me,’ you say immediately. ‘He’d as soon as I was dead as alive.’

‘You must have done something terrible, angel.’

Your mouth clamps shut, lips flattening into a straight line.

‘Did you kill?’ Yoongi asks. ‘Maim?’

You barely react to his taunting tone.

‘Were you envious? Greedy?’

You’re quiet.

‘You’re not wrathful,’ Yoongi observes.

He waits until your eyes meet his.

‘That leaves pride, and lust?’

From the way your face tightens he knows he’s stumbled upon his answer.

Yoongi lets his eyes travel to your beautiful form in the sheer silk you’re draped in.

Your breasts press against the material, rounded, enticing, and as he looks, your nipples tighten visibly.

‘Ah,’ Yoongi says, voice dropped to barely a whisper. ‘He said you were lustful.’

Yoongi leans down, close to your cheek, and enjoys the way you shiver as he breathes on your skin.

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your skin, and your pupils dilate so much your eyes are practically black.

Your lips part on his name, and Yoongi, for the first time in a long while, feels a surge of lust.

You stay completely still as he touches your cheek.

‘What do you want from me, angel?’ Yoongi taunts. ‘Aren’t you fallen enough?’

Your breath trembles in your chest as his fingers tighten on your face.

‘Come,’ says Yoongi. ‘Show me how you fell.’

He lets go of your face to caress the swells of your breasts, and you gasp, but you don’t stop him.

Instead, you arch your back to press your breasts into his palms.

‘You want more?’ Yoongi asks. He knows you do.

He grasps the front of your gown, rips it all the way down.

Your thighs tighten on his hand as he reaches between your legs.

Yoongi’s hand explores you, leisurely, slow, until you’re twitching and trembling.

Your nipples are so sensitive now that when Yoongi rolls his tongue around one you buck your hips into his hand.

‘Uhngh,’ you moan.

Yoongi thumbs the bud at the top of your sex, and your warmth pulses around his fingers.

Wet, hot, tight.

Yoongi drags his tongue along the round of your breast, and your breathing hitches.

Your nipples are so puffy and erect they almost look painful.

You whine as he grasps your rounded flesh. The sound causes a stirring, low in his belly.

Yoongi’s cock swells at the sounds you make. You’re so pleasured, breathless, and he’s barely making any effort.

He’s already almost fully erect when your soft hand brushes the front of his groin.

‘Bold for an angel,’ he says.

There’s a spark in your eyes, clouded with lust.

‘How many angels have you defiled, Lord Min?’

Yoongi considers your question as his eyes roam your beautiful body.

‘None,’ he tells you.

You smile, and you’re so pretty he can’t take his eyes off you.

‘Luckily, I’m not an angel any more.’

Yoongi smirks. ‘Let me show you how the other side lives.’

He turns, and you follow.

***

You’re lost, Yoongi isn’t sure when it happened, probably between your fourth, maybe fifth peak.

He’s covered in your arousal, he can taste you on his lips, on his tongue. His cock’s still so rigid inside you he’s aching, caught in the delirium between pleasure and pain.

He plunges into your wet warmth, rocking his hips against yours.

Your arms are limp, one draped around his neck, just barely holding on, the other splayed out, fingers uncurled. You look dazed, fucked out, teetering on the edge of consciousness.

You cry out as Yoongi moves, dragging his cock against the walls of your cunt, and he notes with grim satisfaction how hoarse your voice now is.

‘Yoongi,’ you beg, ‘wanna feel you.’

‘You’ll feel me,’ he promises.

You shake your head. ‘I want to feel your pleasure.’

Yoongi groans as you hold your legs apart for him, letting him see exactly how he cleaves you apart , the way he looks entering your core.

He wraps a hand around your neck, tight, and your eyes close. Your hand snakes around his wrist, urging him on.

You’re clenching around him so sweetly Yoongi’s disarmed, and when you press a kiss to his temple he releases, shouting your name, spilling inside you.

Belatedly, he remembers to loosen his grip around your neck, and as you remain still he feels an unnerving wave of fear that he might have hurt you.

He says your name, and you stir. Relief floods through his chest.

‘Stay,’ you mumble into his chest. ‘Stay.’

Yoongi curls his arm around you, a display of skinship he’s unused to but that you seem to want.

He wonders, curious, why he’s swayed to want to give you what you want.

***

You wake during the night.

Yoongi’s flat on his back, arm propping up his head. He watches with dark amusement as you look your fill at his naked form.

‘You’re too wide-eyed considering you have my seed all over you,’ he drawls.

You blink at him. ‘I was surprised to wake, my lord.’

‘You thought I’d kill Azariel’s fallen daughter?’ Yoongi muses, not bothering to acknowledge how close to the truth you are.

‘You do have a reputation, Lord Min,’ you say, so seriously that it takes him a moment to realise you’re teasing him.

He’s startled into laughter that sounds rusty even to him.

You turn over, breasts spilling onto the silk bedcovers, lush and beautiful like you were made to tempt him.

His cock stirs, and it doesn’t escape your notice, minx that you are.

You reach for him, gentle, soft against his hardness.

Yoongi groans, eyes never leaving you as you stroke him. Your lips part on a breath, tongue flicking between. The cavern of your mouth feels like the heaven Yoongi will never know.

He’s never rued being born a demon prince until this moment.

Yoongi pulls you off his rigid shaft, seeks the warmth between your legs. You’re already gasping, spreading to take him, so soft and slick and willing he can barely hold himself back.

His hand finds its way around your neck again, squeezing, and the pleasure ramps up a thousandfold.

Your back arches as you peak, and this time Yoongi doesn’t have the patience to deny himself. He groans into your hair as he fills you, remembers to loosen his grip.

You’re emboldened to press a kiss to his lips, a moment of contact so searing Yoongi’s jolted out of his post-pleasure daze.

Neither of you speak, and neither of you makes a move to leave.

***

It’s just past dawn when Yoongi stirs to the back of your entirely naked body.

You’re getting re-dressed, helping yourself to his clothes.

‘I should go,’ you say.

Yoongi hadn’t realised you’d noticed he was awake.

Pandemonium has passed, but Yoongi finds he doesn’t care for any possibility that you might get hurt.

He rises, unclasps a chain from around his neck, fastens it around your own. The ancient rune now hanging between your collarbones is distinctly, identifiably, his.

There aren’t many who would seek his wrath.

‘My father will —--’

‘Rue the day he let you fall into the hands of a demon prince?’ suggests Yoongi.

The hint of a smile plays around your lips, and Yoongi can’t tear his eyes away.

‘I’ll be back,’ you say. There's a faint question in your voice.

‘See that you are,’ Yoongi replies.

You bow slightly. ‘My lord.’

You take your leave, and Yoongi allows himself to watch you go until you slip between two buildings, and then you’re gone.

#yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #bts fanfic #bts smut

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