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[daechwitatamic]

Of Ruin: Chapter 13 | KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: language, kissing, we are jumping straight into smut lol, nip stim, clit stim, dry humping, fingering, oral (f. receiving), uhhhh fang play? lolol pls do not perceive me, penetrative sex, love confessions during sex oops lol, biting/feeding during sex but its consensual on all parts, kind of sort of subspacey at the end with help from vampire venom, taehyung pov for a minute, drinking and drunkenness, hurt feelings wc: 6k

“You must have been terrified.”

“No. Not once I knew it was you.”

To emphasize this, you loop one arm around the back of his neck, drawing him closer, kissing him harder. Everything you’ve been holding back seems to burst from you - his faith in you, your trust in him, the love you’ve been tucking away, all of it. You kiss him feverishly, trying to translate every bit of it into the way you press against him, open for him.

He licks into your mouth and you groan quietly, wanting more, more of him, more of his mouth, more of his hands, just more. He responds to your sound with a pleased grunt of his own, and he slides one large hand around your waist, pressing against your lower back, pressing your hips harder against his own.

You slide your tongue against his and he brings his hand up your back and wrap his hand firmly around the back of your neck to keep you close. You let out a tiny whine, letting your hands wander up his chest over the thin cloth of the shirt he wears. You pass your hands over his shoulders, down his back, holding tight as your head spins - from the kiss, or from the events (and blood loss) of last night, you aren’t sure.

You murmur his name when the kiss breaks, and he responds by capturing your lips again, sweetly, then pulling back to look down at you.

“What is it?” he murmurs, voice as deep as the ocean.

You strain upwards, trying to find his mouth again, your right hand gathering the material of his shirt’s hem and bunching it in your fist. You slide your other hand into the gap you’ve made, practically gasping with delight as your palm slides along his cool, bare skin for the first time. He shivers beneath your touch, then reaches between his shoulder blades to grab the neck of his shirt. You let go of the hem, allowing him to tug it off and over his head before he bends to kiss you more.

Pleased, you press your mouth to his gladly, letting your hands explore up and down his ribs, over his pecs, down his stomach, around to his back, feeling him move and respond beneath each touch. You can feel him beneath you, responding to each kiss and every caress, and you tighten the grip of your thighs on either side of his own, as if holding on tighter can urge him even closer.

“So warm,” he murmurs against your mouth, letting out a quick sigh as one of your hands works to memorize the slope of his jaw.

You still want more. You use both hands and card your fingers through his hair, curling them to hold his roots, and pull lightly. He moans into your open mouth, the sound so pretty it makes your toes curl. You do it again, pressing your hips against his as you do, trying to egg him on.

He’s behaving too much, keeping his hands on your waist, your hair, not daring to toe the line even as you leap over it. You don’t want him to behave.

“I want to feel you,” you breathe, pressing your forehead to his as you both take a second to catch your breath. “Please.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice; he finds the hem of your shirt and pulls. You lift your arms so he can slide it over your head. His eyes follow the path of newly bared skin - up over your stomach, your chest, your face, up to your arms.

You reach back to unclasp your bra, tossing it away, but Taehyung isn’t watching. His eyes have instead caught on the scabby marks on your upper arm, and then on the inside of each wrist. He reaches for your right arm, pulls it closer, examining the place where his very first bite had pierced you.

“Did it hurt?” he asks sorrowfully, brushing a thumb lightly over the reddened skin around the bite.

“No,” you say, but it isn’t quite true, so you try again. “I mean, yes, but after a few seconds it was…”

“What?” he whispers, even as he pulls your wrist towards his mouth, brushes the healing bite with his lips. Your breath stills in your throat, but he only kisses the spot, waiting for your answer.

“Once the venom hit,” you admit, a little embarrassed, “it felt… kind of good, actually. Like being a little drunk.”

He lets out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “That’s how it feels when we drink,” he tells you. “The want, the thirst, it’s lessened… but it also gives a sort of high. It’s addicting - you’re addicting.”

He punctuates this thought by pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the fang-marks on your wrist, as you think that he must be mistaken - between the two of you, it’s him that’s addicting: powerful and beautiful, thrilling and dangerous.

He moves to kiss you again, licking against your lips until you open for him again, hands skimming along your now-bare sides, thumbs coming dangerously close to your chest before sliding back down. You shiver, grinding down into him, making an encouraging sound low in your throat.

He finally slides a hand where you want it, caressing and gently kneading your breast, letting his thumb circle the sensitive nipple before flicking over the top of it as it hardens beneath his touch. You keen, the sensations tingling and magical, pressing harder into his touch.

He abandons your chest and slides his hand down your arm, still kissing you languidly, deeply. His fingers rest against your wrist, and the wound starts to tingle. You recognize the sensation and realize he’s healing you as he kisses you, fixing each broken spot he finds, undoing the damage he’d wreaked on your body the night before.

He does the same to the wounds on your upper arm and the opposite wrist, then goes back to exploring what sounds he can pull from you as he lowers his mouth to your breast. He hums happily as he kisses, licks, and nips his way around the full bottom of one before making his way back up to your nipple, taking it between his lips and flicking his tongue against it repeatedly. You feel your eyes roll back, your core clenching in response to the feeling of him.

“God, Taehyung, please,” you beg. You don’t even know what you’re begging for - more, just more.

At your plea, he pulls himself back up and kisses you so hard that your head spins. He slides a hand, behaving no more, down your stomach and around your waist, gripping you tightly as he pulls you tight against his trapped cock, which is solid beneath you, begging for attention. You gasp, hips jerking with the sudden friction, breaking the kiss.

He releases your waist and his hands travel around to grab full handfuls of your ass, fingers tightening there as his lips work their way down your jaw and towards your throat. You groan in pleasure and excitement, feeling yourself getting wetter at an alarming rate.

“Smell fucking amazing,” he murmurs, lips against your throat, and you feel your whole body heat at the words. He holds you, mouth pressed to the flushed skin of your throat, pressing closed-mouth kisses to it as his fingers slip beneath your waistband, sliding down the bare skin of your ass and seeking the heat and wetness between your legs.

He toys with you, teasing your hole from behind, sliding easily through the slickness waiting for him. He doesn’t enter you, as you’re still pressed too tightly against him, rocking against his clothed length. Even still, you whine at the sensation of his fingers exploring what parts of you they can.

He growls, and you shiver. He lifts you in one easy motion, pulling his hand from inside your leggings to settle you down onto your back. He presses his long body alongside yours and slips his hand beneath your waistband - properly, from the front this time. He runs his fingers through the arousal he finds only once before plunging two fingers into you just as his mouth finds the tender place his fangs had pierced into your neck the night before. You moan so loudly it echoes through the room, the sound long and tortured as your body adjusts to the stretch of his digits and as the tender wound on your neck tingles at the pressure of his lips and tongue as he kisses and licks over the healing punctures.

“God,” you breathe, rocking against his fingers, trying to work them deeper. You can hear them squelching, and that should be embarrassing, but you can’t care. Not when he’s pulling his sticky fingers out of your leggings and rolling back over top of you, pressing his still-clothed length against your mound, his mouth firmly attached to the marks on your neck, tongue caressing the spots as if he could convince just a bit more blood out of them.

He ruts against you mindlessly, like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, seeming to be fully focused on your neck, like he’s forgotten about relieving his aching cock when faced with the promise of your fresh blood. His hands are splayed and pressing into the mattress on either side of you, holding himself up just above you.

He slides his mouth from the wound to the unblemished skin just slightly to the left, sucking deeply, no doubt pulling more blood to gather below the surface of your skin. A growl reverberates through him, but you feel no fear; he’s not the beast now, he’s yours - yours. You know he won’t hurt you.

He brings up a hand to caress your jaw. “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, barely removing his lips from your neck enough to enunciate.

You close your eyes, sighing, letting every sensation wash over you. I want to be yours, you think, just the same as you are mine.

“You,” you say, only part of the truth.

His mouth finds yours again, his taste slightly coppery, and then he’s pulling at your waistband. You hurry to assist, lifting your hips up and using both hands to push the material over your ass and down your legs, kicking both leggings and underwear to the side as quickly as you can.

“You, too,” you say petulantly, and he smiles against your lips.

He lifts up to untie his own trousers. When he’s free of them, you expect him to settle himself back as he was, but he surprises you by scooting down the bed and gripping your thighs firmly, pressing them apart, opening you reverently. You shiver as the room’s cool air, and his hungry gaze, find your exposed core.

“Taehyung,” you keen, not sure if you’re urging him on or questioning him away.

He tears his eyes away from your glistening pussy, gaze rising to find yours, hungry. His pupils are so blown out that for a second you jolt with alarm, thinking you’re seeing the black Infracti eyes of the beast.

“Can I?” he asks, and you’re reminded of last night, the way he asked before each bite, the way that despite instinct and thirst driving him to bring his mouth to each spot, he still waited for permission.

“Yes,” you breathe, head falling back against the mattress, as if you’re physically incapable of watching as he grips your thighs again and pulls himself closer, burying his face in your heat and licking his first stripe from bottom to top.

You let your breath out between gritted teeth as he does this again and again, tongue dipping in, stretching your entrance for only a second before sliding up to pass firmly over your clit before retracting altogether. It’s a slow, dizzying torture, and you find yourself shaking slightly each time he repeats the series of motions.

Eyes screwed shut, fingers digging into the blankets beneath you, you suck in a breath and try to relax, try to open your legs wider for him, even as the tremors roll through your lower body gently, building up to something fiery and explosive.

He stops his repetitive torture, flattening his tongue and rubbing firmly over and around your clit, the onslaught so intense that your hips jerk and twitch away until he reaches up and holds them still with firm fingertips. You whine and moan as he works you, powerless to shift away from the onslaught of his tongue and lips. He groans when you do, his dulcet voice weaving with your own wordless pleas, his hips undulating slowly against the bed beneath him as he feasts.

You breathe his name, needing reprieve, needing more, needing to unclench and inhale, the sound morphing into a low moan. He seems to hear your unarticulated request, pulling off and moving to press kisses to the insides of your thighs, the juncture, your spasming entrance as you gasp for breath.

Then, his mouth moves, tongue slipping along your outer lips. The sensation changes, alarm bells sounding in your head several beats before your buzzy brain can process why. It’s sharp, and your breath rattles to a stop, muscles tensing in anticipation, as Taehyung slides the tip of his left fang up one side of you, pressing it just hard enough against you that you can feel the sting even when he’s moved on to a higher place.

“T-Tae,” you gulp, pulse thudding even harder than it was before, desperately aware of how close he is to biting you. He growls again, then licks over where his fang had trailed, soothing, before moving to the other side. Gently, slowly, he lets the tip of his sharp tooth press against you, and weaves a line from bottom to top with it. Your breaths come shallow - you’re afraid to move, lest you accidentally pierce yourself on him.

“You’re so, so good,” he groans, and you don’t know if he means for staying still, for letting him play, or if he’s talking about your taste, not your behavior. You whimper, still nervous - but the fear is exciting. He centers his mouth and places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing you to jerk under his hands again.

“Taehyung,” you whine, a plea and a complaint all at once. “Please.”

He heeds your tone, releasing you after one more kiss to the spot he’d been torturing. “Please what?” he asks, teasing, starting to climb back up your body, mouth working its way up the plane of your stomach, past your ribs, over your breasts, up your throat, and then kissing you again, heady and impassioned.

You’re shaky from the adrenaline released by his toying with you; you pull him close, his chest flush against yours, trying to find comfort in his solidness, hands clinging to his biceps as they flex above you. You can feel his cock, hard and heavy, brushing your inner thigh, and you shift, trying to get it closer to where you want it.

He growls when he feels himself slide easily up your slit, grinding frantically against you until he’s slicked up, too, then letting his head snag on your entrance.

His eyes find yours, asking the question that he doesn’t vocalize.

You answer wordlessly, too, lifting up to take the first inch of him, letting out a strangled sound as he follows your lead and pushes through your heat until his hips are flush with yours again.

You stay locked like this for just a moment, and you look up at him with adoration as your body adjusts, stretching to accommodate him.

“God,” he breathes above you, starting to move minutely, just barely shifting. “You’re so -.”

He doesn’t finish the thought, dipping his head down to kiss you again. He shelters you between his arms, his black hair swinging above you, casting his face in shadow, and he begins fucking into you in earnest.

You move with him, hands roaming his arms and back, hooking one leg around the backs of his thighs to draw him even closer. He feels amazing dragging away from your walls and slamming back in, feels amazing kissing you so deeply you could drown in it, feels amazing stroking your face with gentle hands that promise to honor you.

As you move together, each delicious slide causing your core to tighten and grip at him, it builds - fuller and more powerful until it’s crashing over you: the need to tell him.

“I love you,” you breathe. “I should have said it before.”

He rolls you easily in response to this, one arm tight around your back as he maneuvers you so you sit astride him, his cock managing to sink even deeper into you from this angle. You moan, eyes slipping closed, missing it as he reaches for your upper body, trying to pull you down into some semblance of an embrace, even as he fucks you steadily, not faltering for a second.

He kisses you sloppily, arms locking you against his chest, cock sliding in and out of you at a steady pace. One of his hands slides up your back and rests across your throat; you shiver at the contact, and then you feel the familiar tingling. He’s healing your neck, where he drank from you last night.

When he releases you, hands settling on your hips and helping to lift you up and pull you down, you sit back up, looking down at him. He looks so good spread out beneath you that it makes your core clench, which makes his hands on your hips tighten and a low grumble reverberate from his chest.

He squirms and sits upright, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss as soon as he’s close enough, huffing against your mouth happily when he gets what he wants. He tugs you down on his cock and you keen, whining deep in your throat as his tip kisses your cervix until he lets up.

“Fuck,” you manage, gasping for a new breath as the pain-pleasure ebbs. You’re close, you realize, as he kisses his way down the column of your throat, teeth grazing in places and then tongue soothing the scrapes. You rock against him, your hard nipples brushing his chest, your hands finding his hair again, and you know exactly what you want to push you over the edge.

“Taehyung,” you say, lips so close to his ear that you can see him shudder from the tickle, “I want…”

He spears you particularly hard, grunting, and you lose the thought for a second, letting your forehead drop to his shoulder.

“Want what?” he asks, breathless, fingers splayed over your waist. He watches the place where your bodies meet, distracted by the sight of his cock emerging from within you, shiny and sticky.

“Drink from me,” you beg, not lifting your head, not wanting to see his reaction.

“No,” he says, not looking up, not stopping his fluid strokes into your tight heat. “It’s too dangerous, especially like this - I might not be able to stop.”

“If you can control yourself through the curse, you can control yourself now,” you argue, swiveling against him a little, relishing the feel of how deeply he’s touching you. “Please. It wasn’t you last night - I want it to be you.”

It’s not quite the whole of what you mean; if you weren’t split open by his cock right now maybe you could explain better than it felt like you’d been intimate with him without his presence, that you wanted a chance to share that intimacy with him, now, now that you’d told him how you feel about him.

But he seems to understand. His strokes slow but don’t stop as he tips your head up with the knuckle of his pointer finger, looking deep into your eyes as if looking for the right answer within them.

“Please,” you say, and you watch him break.

He pushes himself deep within you, then presses his face to the side of your neck he hadn’t touched yet. You rock against him, feeling his hard length push against each sensitive spot, colors exploding behind your eyelids as you move.

“Please,” you whimper again, because the anticipation is worse than the pain will be, and you want him.

He can’t resist, not with you begging, and he presses his fangs to your sweaty skin, then pierces you swiftly. The pain overtakes you, worse than you remember from the night before. You cry out loudly, eyes squeezing shut, fingernails raking down his shoulder blades, your whole body squirming and fighting instinctually to get away. He holds you tightly, and all your squirming does is push him deeper inside you, all those spots lighting up behind your eyelids again, causing your cry of pain to trail into a loud moan.

The venom hits you as Taehyung starts pounding into you faster than he has this whole time, his arms tight around your back, fangs still lodged in your throat, a growl ripping through him as your blood hits his tongue and your body tightens and twitches around his length.

The floating high hits you as your body reacts to his new, breakneck pace and you let out a mindless wail as you pulse and squeeze around him in rhythmic waves. It lasts and lasts, and you think you might trip straight into a second orgasm as he holds you even tighter, removes his mouth from your neck long enough to gasp your name as he pumps his release deep inside you.

After, he holds you still, hands petting your hair, smoothing down your back, until your heartbeat calms under his hands. Then, he lowers you to lay down side by side.

You float, aware of only snippets of sensation - the pulsing between your legs taking ages to settle, aftershocks causing the muscles in your legs to tense and release. Your heartbeat slows. The well of blood to the wound in your neck, Taehyung’s gentle tongue still pressed to the spot, taking what your body willingly gives but not pulling from it.

Slowly, you come back to yourself.

“How do you feel?” he asks, perhaps a bit apprehensively.

“I need to eat, shower, and sleep, in that order,” you murmur, eyelids heavy. “But otherwise… I can’t complain.”

In the end, his guards keep the corridors clear as he carries you back to his rooms. It’s a bit embarrassing, you think, but you’re way too weak to walk there, so there’s no arguing the point. He orders a full breakfast spread from the kitchens, sends Satuel to your rooms to get you something comfortable to wear, and runs a hot bath in a tub so deep you’d honestly call it a small swimming pool.

When your stomach is full and your body clean, you burrow under the blankets in his ridiculously opulent bed, body thrumming with happiness and oxytocin and all those other happy chemicals that come after good sex and good food.

“I suppose I should thank you,” Taehyung murmurs as his fingers trace patterns over your shoulder. He lays beside you, on top of the blankets, waiting for you to be claimed by sleep. “I got a whole night of sleep last night. My first in months.”

You hum, stretching, halfway to sleep already. “I think you have other things to thank me for,” you tease, the words falling heavily from your lips as you’re pulled under.

You feel his hand, gentle on your throat, drawing near the bite mark he’d made this morning, the one he’d made as himself, at your request.

“No,” you say strongly, suddenly awake. “Don’t heal that one.”

He balks. “People will know.”

“Good,” you say firmly. “Let them know I’m yours.”

Let them know you’re mine, you think, and then you only know sleep.

—

Taehyung watches you sleep for longer than he’d admit to anyone. He watches your face, calm and smooth in sleep. He thinks of how he has to bite back smiles when you get fired up about something, your eyes narrowing and mouth tightening.

He thinks of the look of quiet determination you get when you’re casting, when you’re working with the magic that naturally lives within you.

For all of history, Infracti and venefici have lived together, helped each other. Long ago, the heir to Infracticus’s throne would be purposely matched with the venefici’s strongest magician - the Highest. Venefici would leave their homes, live and practice with the other magic-wielders, train and compete to be the best, to be given the honored title. It’s been hundreds of thousands of years since the days of those arranged unions, but Taehyung’s had that custom in his head for weeks now.

It makes him feel fated, like you were brought to him on purpose, his natural other half. The Highest to his hunter. The Priestess to his Blood-letter. His venefici, his witch, his bringer of humanity, his to protect.

Like in another lifetime, it would have always been you and him. 

Loathe as he is to admit his father could be right about anything… he was right about you. You’re powerful, beautiful. You’re brave, surprisingly funny. Taehyung sees a lot of himself in you - in your bravado, in the way your words don’t always seem to match what you want to say, in the way you only find peace when you’re faced with the sea.

He loves you. He loves you, and he thinks you could be amazing here - thinks you’d be an amazing queen, thinks you could be happy in his palace by the ocean’s side.

But you had a whole life before, that you’d left on hold to come here and fix him. If he loves you, he thinks, then the right thing to do is to let you go back to that life. It isn’t right to keep you here, away from your family, away from your studies and your job, just because he wants you to. It isn’t fair to ask you to give up what you worked so hard for.

It is with these thoughts in mind that he presses a feather light kiss to your unfurrowed brow and makes his way out of his bedchamber into his main rooms, closing the door quietly behind him to let you sleep.

—

When you wake, you’re alone. You worry for a split second, then you hear his voice floating from further in his wing, and you relax.

You rouse yourself slowly, savoring the chance to take your time, to be alone with your thoughts in the comfiest bed you’ve ever experienced. A quick look around the room alights your attention on a bundle at the end of the bed; someone left clothes for you.

You do your best to make yourself presentable, and then follow the sound of voices and laughter into Taehyung’s main rooms.

You’re greeted with a sight you’ve never seen before: the group of young Infracti men seem to be having fun, just hanging out. Taehyung is lounging on one of the couches, ankles crossed and arms folded behind his head. Jimin is perched on the arm of the couch, currently doubled over in laughter so strong that he wheezes and clutches at Taehyung’s shin desperately. You also recognize the round-eyed Infracti who had attended the strategy meeting in the pub not that long ago - Jungkook. The other two you’ve never seen before, but they appraise you with interest as you step into the room.

Taehyung lights up like a Christmas tree when he spots you, sitting up so abruptly that he almost knocks Jimin from the couch.

He crows your name, and then calls to you, “Come! Make merry with me!”

You step forward with trepidation, looking around at the others for an explanation.

“His Majesty has been imbibing,” Jimin explains, straightening himself up. “But, yes, you should join us. Your time here has been very serious, and we’re determined to have a pleasant night now that the business is handled.”

“Business?” you echo, still making your way into the room by degrees. It does not escape you that if these Infracti are drunk, it may put you in a bit more danger than normal.

“You just missed Seokjin,” Taehyung explains, the words a bit loose. He waves a hand towards the door as if to indicate which way Seokjin left. “We were discussing matters of state.”

“While drunk?” you can’t help but ask.

Taehyung lets out one cold laugh, and then holds up an arm, making a space for your body to fill. As you make your way over, he muses, “Yes, it makes it less painful to stare the cold, hard future in the face that way.”

“That’s a bit grim,” Jimin remarks from behind you as you settle next to Taehyung’s torso, seated on the edge of the couch’s cushion.

“Justice is grim,” Taehyung declares dramatically, and you press your lips together, trying not to giggle. Then, he adds, “Especially when it’s coming for your own family. Or yourself.”

He flops back against the arm of the couch, reaches around you for his goblet. You can smell the wine as it passes by you.

“Do you want some?” Jimin has the presence of mind to ask, but you shake your head.

“Better not,” you say. “Is it even safe for me to be here right now, while he’s…?”

Taehyung sputters loudly in indignation. “What,” he demands, “you think I can control myself while I’m cursed but not when I’m inebra - ineba - ineeny - drunk?”

Your eyes widen in mirth, and you hiss at Jimin, “What did you do to him?”

Jimin laughs, shaking his head. “His Majesty did this to himself, I’m afraid. I think he’s been stressed.”

“Come on, little witch,” Jungkook says, playfully taunting, black eyes glinting. “Are you afraid? I thought you put people through walls.”

You eye him flatly. “I don’t want to mess up Maiesti’s pretty face,” you deadpan.

This gets a smile out of the others in the room. Beside you, Taehyung pats at his face thoughtfully but says nothing.

“You should all go,” he finally says, the words slow and lazy, head lolling back on the arm of the couch. “Come, now, begone.” He literally waves a hand at them as if they’re nothing but gnats.

“He’s brattier when you’re around,” Jimin tells you petulantly, as he rises. You start to follow, but Taehyung’s inhuman grip finds your wrist and tugs you back.

“Not you,” he murmurs, and there’s a hint of growl to it. A shudder rolls through you.

The others make their way past you, saying their goodbyes, and Taehyung tugs you by the wrist so that you fall over top of him, chest to chest. You think he’s going to pick up where you’d left off this morning, but instead he wraps his arms around your back and buries his face somewhere near your clavicle, eyes closed.

“You’re warm,” he murmurs.

You smile, feeling a rush of affection. “You’re cute,” you counter.

You feel his lips pout against your skin. “I’m not cute. ’M scary.”

“Sometimes you’re scary,” you agree lightly. “But not right now.”

He lets out an unhappy hum. “You’re scary sometimes,” he muses. He unburies himself, lets his head flop back to the arm of the couch. His eyes are still closed. “You’d be the best queen because everyone would be scared shitless of you.”

He’s let slip similar thoughts before, but never in a setting where you could sit with the words, consider the weight of them.

“I can’t tell if you mean that,” you admit, “or if you’re just…” Getting ahead of yourself, you finish the thought silently.

“Why wouldn’t I mean it?” he argues. He lets his arm drop over his face, his eyes hiding in the crook of his elbow. “I agreed when my father told me to court you, didn’t I? Wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t think…”

He mumbles the rest of this sentence into his arm, and you don’t try to catch it. You’re stunned, knocked breathless.

“Wait,” you say, the word dropping from you like a stone. “What?”

“Mm,” he says, like this is an answer, nodding his head minutely. “My parents were intrigued by your magical quotient. I, on the other hand, was intrigued by your-”

You’re barely hearing him. “Wait,” you interrupt, the word the only one you can grasp. “You… they asked you to court me because of my magic? And you… you… agreed?”

“Well, yes,” Taehyung huffs, frustrated. “I had to, or he wouldn’t have -”

“So,” you interrupt again, head spinning, “how much of it was… for his sake?”

Taehyung removes his arm from his face and looks at you in confusion, brows furrowing, lips pouting.

“Were you faking it?” you demand, feeling yourself spiraling but unable to stop it. “Was I just… a means to an end? An asset for the bloodline?”

He winces, which is enough of an answer for you. You push away from him, and he’s too slow in his drunken state to catch you in time. You stand, backing away.

“I have to go,” you say hollowly, already looking at the door.

“No,” he says, desperately, sitting up and reaching a hand towards you. Your heart breaks another degree; part of you wants to go back to his embrace and tell him never mind, you aren’t fighting, everything is okay. You force yourself to back away, making your way around the couch.

He watches you go, mouth turned down and a hand following your path. “My love,” he breathes, “please don’t.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head, half to yourself, half to remind yourself not to give in. “No, I need to. I need to think. You should… drink some water and get some sleep… or whatever it is your people do to avoid a hangover.”

You open the door and slip through, but you’re weak. You’re weak, and you look back over your shoulder, and so as the door closes you get one last view of Prince Taehyung, watching you go, his eyes now a deep, fathomless black.

—

You move in a daze. Namjoon is closed in his own room when you reach your rooms, so there’s no one to stop you as you toss a few essentials into a small bag, no one to witness it when you tell Satuel that if she doesn’t take you to the Ostium then you’ll walk there yourself.

“His Majesty will be very displeased,” she points out as you walk.

“His Majesty has a long, long life ahead of him during which he can get over it,” you bite back.

The Infracti working the Ostiums - both the one in Infracticus and the one above, in your city - nod politely at you as you pass through, checking your identification, but don’t say much.

In fact, no one speaks to you again until after you’ve climbed a familiar, worn set of stairs, pushed open a squeaky office door.

Dr. Kim stares at you like you’re a ghost, an apparition drifting up through his carpeting.

“You,” he says, eyes wide with disbelief, “are not supposed to be here.”

<- Prev | Next ->

LA LA LA BYEEEE!!!!!!!!!

[junqkook]

— ROTTENFOLK: AFTERMATH (m.)

PAIRING. jungkook/reader, taehyung/reader GENRE. faerie au, angst, smut WORDS. 10,234 RATING. explicit

SYNOPSIS. six years after escaping from the faerie realm, you’ve done everything to hide yourself and your son from the high king. but you should have known he would never let you go so easily.

CONTENTS. boyfriend taehyung, faerie king jungkook, human reader, mother reader, father jungkook, kidnapping, manipulation, slight dubcon, riding, grinding, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe!), rough sex, hair pulling, biting/marking, possessiveness, accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism, infidelity, multiple orgasms, hinted f/f, pregnancy, multiple smut scenes (!), overstimulation, fingering, dom jungkook.

NOTES. this is a sequel to rottenfolk. i highly suggest reading rottenfolk before reading this one. Y’ALL GOT ME MISSING THIS WORLD, so i gave in to my own desires and wrote this. i’ll warn you all now: this is not a happy story.

EXTRA NOTES. UNRWA; Care for Gaza; Direct Aid For Gaza. please consider donating to and/or sharing these organizations.

— rottenfolk. rottenfolk: aftermath.

Taehyung’s arms wrapped around you from behind and you giggled, leaning back into his chest. The smell of breakfast filled the kitchen and your boyfriend’s warm lips pressed chaste kisses against your neck.

“Missed you this morning,” he murmured.

You hummed and closed your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of him. “I woke up early and decided to treat my lovely boys to breakfast today.”

Taehyung chuckled and pulled his mouth away from your neck, resting his cheek against yours instead. “You know what Soobin told me last night?”

“What’d he tell you?”

“He concocted such an imaginative story,” your boyfriend of three years started, a lightness to his voice that comforted you. “Said he saw magical creatures in the forest by the park that knew his name—”

Your eyes shot open and you tensed in Taehyung’s arms. “What?”

He continued without noticing your reaction. “Yeah, he was telling me all about these—actually kind of grotesque now that I think about it—”

You whirled around in his arms and faced him. “When did he tell you this exactly? Where?”

Taehyung cupped your face and smiled at you. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Don’t worry, it’s just a story, he was probably watching YouTube or something and got the ideas—”

“Tae,” you pressed. “I’m serious. Please answer me.”

He held up his hands in defense and nodded. “Okay, okay. He told me while we were walking home from the park yesterday. He was really excited about it and said the fairies told him they’d see him again. It’s nothing bad, sweetheart. He’s just a five year old with an active imagination.”

You cursed under your breath. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

Taehyung shrugged and crossed his arms. “I don’t know, it didn’t seem like pressing information to share. And you were dead tired when you came home, so it must have slipped my mind.” As he watched you flutter around the kitchen nervously, he continued. “Can you tell me what’s going on with you right now?”

You sighed and faced your boyfriend. “Remember when I told you about Soobin’s father?”

Taehyung pursed his lips. “Yeah. You said he’s dangerous.”

“He is,” you said. “I didn’t think he’d find me, or even be interested in it, but—he doesn’t know about Soobin. And I planned to keep it that way.”

“Okay,” Taehyung replied slowly. “So what’s changed?”

“Everything,” you whimpered. “If Soobin said that to you, it means his father knows about him. It’s… his people,” you said carefully. “They’re the only ones who would tell Soobin that they’re magical creatures and—if they know about my son, it’s only a matter of time before he knows, too.”

Taehyung rubbed his temples, making sure to keep his voice low. “So, what do we do now?”

Before you could answer, the sound of padding footsteps through the house interrupted your conversation. “Mama, good morning!” Soobin’s sleepy voice called out. He appeared from behind Taehyung, rubbing his tired eyes.

Scooping him up into your arms, you pressed kisses to his chubby cheek. He murmured half-heartedly and buried his little face into your neck. The tips of his growing horns pressed into your skin lightly. You smoothed down his dark hair and gave Taehyung a pleading look.

“Morning, little man,” your boyfriend said, patting your son on the back. “You ready for breakfast?”

Soobin sat up in your arms, turning his small body to look at his surrogate father, who had been in majority of his life. “Yes,” he mumbled, squirming until you set him down so he could grasp at Taehyung’s large hand. “Good morning.”

You watched Taehyung lead him over to the table, helping him scoot his chair closer to the table once he was seated. Hurrying, you brought over your boys’ plates and then went back for yours. Soobin and Taehyung waited for you to be seated to start eating.

“S’good, Mama,” Soobin said around his food.

You smiled. “Thank you, Binnie,” you replied. You almost had no appetite, the thoughts of Jungkook swirling in your head. You hated that your chest still ached, even with the years distancing you.

The day passed achingly slowly, every minute and every second feeling like an eternity; every sound and every shadow brought with it a wave of anxiety that you hadn’t felt in a long time. You felt bad for not allowing Soobin to go with Taehyung to the store, ignoring his pouting with a heavy heart.

Finally, when it was time for bed, you tucked Soobin in with a kiss to his forehead. He looked up at you with his eyes that were so like his father’s, pupils slitted like a cat’s, that you couldn’t help the wave of fear that shot through you. But you knew Soobin wasn’t like Jungkook, no matter how much he grew to resemble him in his looks with every day.

“Binnie,” you whispered, sitting at the edge of his bed while your hand stroked the strands of his dark hair. “I love you.”

He gave you a smile that was so soft, you hated yourself for seeing any part of Jungkook in him. “I love you more, Mama.” You chuckled, your worry easing a tiny bit. “I don’t know why you were sad today, but tomorrow will be better!”

You blinked back the tears that you could feel prickling in your eyes. “I know it will be,” you answered him, leaning down to press another kiss to his forehead. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

As you stood, you noticed Taehyung smiling at the scene from the doorway. “Night, little prince,” he said to your son. The word jabbed at your ribs and you felt like you couldn’t breathe for a moment.

“That’s a new nickname,” you managed to get out between your nerves.

Soobin giggled from his bed. “The magical faeries called me that!” he said excitedly. “Wouldn’t it be so cool if I really was a prince, Mama?”

You turned to give him a strained smile. “It would be so cool, Soobin.”

“So cool,” he repeated, his voice trailing off as his eyes shut. “G’night, Tae.”

When you shut the door of his bedroom, you nearly collapsed—if it hadn’t been for Taehyung’s arms wrapping around your waist, you would have dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung whispered in panic as he held you up. You tried not to cry into his chest, finding comfort in his arms for a few agonizing seconds before you stood completely.

“Nothing, just—I’m fine,” you lied. “We should go to bed.” Taehyung’s lips pursed, not believing you for once second. “Please,” you whimpered.

With a sigh, Taehyung nodded. “Okay, okay. Let’s go to bed.”

Once in your own room, Taehyung’s warm body against yours, you rolled over until you were on top of him. He gazed up at you with hooded eyes, his hands finding purchase on your hips.

“I thought you were tired,” he murmured.

“How can I go to sleep when my man is laying there, looking that good?” you teased, wiggling yourself until you were slowly grinding against his clothed cock. He groaned and you could feel him hardening underneath you. With a shudder, you started grinding yourself against him harder, the friction delicious against your clit.

Taehyung’s hands slipped under your shirt and dragged it off your torso, your hips never stopping their movements against him. He sat up in the bed, his hips rocking up, and his mouth started sucking one of your nipples harshly. You pushed yourself off his lap for a few seconds to rapidly tug your pajama pants and underwear off, pulling Taehyung’s sweats and boxers halfway down his thighs as well. His cock was hard and red and you wrapped your hand around the length of it, pumping it quickly.

“You’re so hot, you know that?” he groaned against your breast, flicking and twisting your other nipple with his fingers. You tried to keep your voice down as you mewled, pushing yourself flush against his body and guiding the head of his cock to your slit. You rubbed it against your slit a few times, the head bumping into your clit with every drag, before you started to lower yourself onto it.

“You’re so big,” you panted into his ear, the burn of his cock stretching your walls making you clench tightly.

“No matter how many times I fuck you, this pussy is always so tight for me,” he grunted, grabbing for your hips and removing his mouth from your chest. His fingers dug into your bare skin and you sank down completely, shivering and clenching his cock inside of you.

Taehyung’s fingers found your clit easily after years of learning your body and he started to rub as you ground your hips into his. Soon, he was thrusting up into you roughly, his fingers on your hips helping you move up and down to keep pace with him. You gripped his hair and tugged his mouth to yours, kissing him deeply, the slap of your skin against his filling the room along with your little noises.

You orgasmed quickly, your wound up body giving way to pleasure easily. As your walls spasmed around his snapping hips, Taehyung cursed under his breath and held you down on his cock as it twitched, spurts of hot come filling you up. He didn’t stop grinding you against him while he rode out his own release, his fingers sliding down to play with your clit.

“Taehyung,” you whined, “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he mumbled against your shoulder, his eyes shut while he savored the feeling.

You couldn’t help your bucking hips, chasing the feeling of his fingers pressed against your clit. You blinked your bleary eyes open and glanced toward the window, meeting cat-like eyes that startled you into a second orgasm while the head of Taehyung’s spilling cock continued to rub against your g-spot.

You had to bite down on your bottom lip to stop the shout that tried to tear itself out of your throat—a mix of fear and pleasure.

Rocking your hips against Taehyung’s softening cock inside of you, you wrapped your arms around him and kept his head buried in your chest as he pressed kisses to the tops of your breasts. Your eyes never left the ones staring back at you.

Jungkook watched you with heat in his gaze, even though the rest of his face seemed as through he were bored and uninterested.

The shockwaves ran through your body, igniting every nerve in your limbs while your boyfriend’s cock slipped out of you, his come following. Your breaths started to quicken when Jungkook’s form left your window, and for a second you thought you might have imagined it. For a second, you let yourself breathe.

Then you realized he had moved toward Soobin’s window, on the other side of the hallway.

With a small yelp, your throat closed up and you couldn’t breathe. Taehyung lifted his head, startled at your sudden sound, and you ripped yourself away from him, not even bothering to clean the mess dripping between your thighs as you hurriedly dressed yourself, moving at a speed you had never moved before.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Taehyung asked, tucking himself back into his pajamas and shifting off the bed.

You didn’t have time to answer him, messily dressed now. Rushing to the bedroom door, you yanked it open and sprinted to your son’s bedroom, heart pounding and blood rushing through your ears.

You threw open Soobin’s door and for a second, time seemed to stop.

The window was open and Soobin was in front of it, Jungkook leaning against the windowsill from outside. Your son turned to look at you, surprise etched into his features, and Jungkook’s eyes found yours for a second time that night. Beside each other, the two looked so alike that you wondered how you had deluded yourself into believing they would never know.

“Sweetmeat,” Jungkook’s voice drawled, your body shuddering on instinct alone. You couldn’t stop shaking, rooted to the spot as his hand settled on top of Soobin’s head. “It’s been a while, I see.”

“Mama!” Soobin cried out, a smile pulling his lips up. “You know faeries? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Jungkook,” you choked out, taking a step into the room as Taehyung’s footsteps sounded behind you. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, every atom in your body completely focused on the father of your child. “Get away from him.”

The faerie king hummed and he moved his hand down to Soobin’s shoulder. “I will not.” Those eyes that were the same as Soobin’s darted down to the young boy before darting up to yours again. “All these years, you’ve kept him a secret from me.”

Taehyung was behind you now, his voice shouting something at Jungkook, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heart and the sweet voice that came from the faerie. You were already inside the bedroom, Taehyung right outside the doorway behind you.

“Close the door, ____,” Jungkook said softly.

Your body moved on its own, shutting the door before Taehyung could force his way in.

“Now lock it.”

You locked it.

Taehyung’s panicked voice and slamming hands against the door barely registered in your head as you turned to face Jungkook.

“Jungkook, please,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes. You took a few steps forward, stopping only when you saw his fingers tighten around Soobin’s shoulder. “Please. He’s my son—”

“And mine,” he interrupted harshly. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed when your breath hitched, Soobin’s wide and curious eyes turning toward him once again.

“You’re my dad?” he asked quietly.

Jungkook’s eyes seemed to soften for a moment. You thought it must be a trick of the moonlight. “I am,” he told Soobin. “And I’ve come to bring you to your real home, where you belong.”

“Mama can come, too, right?” he asked, glancing at you before looking at his father.

“Of course,” he said easily. “She is mine, after all, until she draws her last breath and an eternity after.”

He tilted his head and then beckoned you over. You dropped to your knees, wrapping your arms around Soobin and yanking him away from the High King.

“Please, Jungkook,” you whimpered. “Please, leave us here. Leave us alone.”

Jungkook’s eyes hardened and his hand shot out like a bolt of lightning, fingers wrapping around the collar of your shirt and dragging you toward the window roughly. Soobin’s small hands dug into your shirt and you heard him make a distressed noise where you had tucked him close.

“Do you forget yourself, human?” he growled, voice dangerously low. You could feel the anger simmering under the surface, unlike anything you had seen from him years ago—he had always been indifferent to you, never angry. You supposed it was only natural after finding out you had kept Soobin a secret, no matter how unnatural Jungkook was. “Answer me.”

“No,” you said shakily. “I am yours.”

“You will be returning with me to the Faerie Realm,” he snarled. “If only because my son has wished for it. You belong to me, sweetmeat. You are mine to do with as I please.”

“Yes,” you replied quietly, never looking away from his slitted eyes. “I am yours to do with as you please, my king.”

“Now get up and come.”

You did as he asked, rising to your feet and releasing Soobin from your grip, though he kept his hold of your shirt as he looked between the two of you. You couldn’t stop your body from removing his hands from you, even as your hands shook and your breath caught when he begged you not to. Your fingers didn’t even twitch when Jungkook lifted him out of the window and kept him on his hip. You followed immediately after, surprised when Jungkook grabbed a hold of your upper arm and maneuvered you on the branches so that you didn’t fall over as the three of you descended to the grass.

Jungkook kept a tight hold on Soobin’s hand as he led you two away from your home. He didn’t need to keep any kind of grip on you—he knew you would follow him, unable to refute his orders, especially not when he was leading your child away with him.

You didn’t look back at the house once.

The sounds and smells of the Faerie realm was something you hadn't realized you had missed so much. Nostalgia for the years you had spent among these fair folk blossomed in your chest, flowering through your skin until you could feel the tingle in your fingertips.

The faeries through the forest watched the three of you with wonderous eyes, all colors and shapes, the whispers like the sound of bees buzzing through the night air. When you looked at your son, his eyes were taking in everything around him with delight and curiosity.

Soon enough, you were walking up toward the palace that you had known so well before, familiarity settling in your bones as you took the trek.

"Soobin," Jungkook said softly—you didn't think that the High King could ever sound so soft while speaking. "Do you want to see your room?"

"Jungkook," you called, taking a few steps toward them so that you were right behind your husband and the faerie king.

His cat-like eyes cut to you, not nearly as soft as they were when looking at your son, and you hesitated to reach out to touch him. Your brain was screaming at you that any move you made would be a terrible idea.

"You'll wait your turn, sweetmeat," he said to you with a smile that could carve through flesh. "Though I thought you would remember where your place is here."

"Of course," you replied quickly, simmering down so as to not scare Soobin with your own fear.

"Mama," your son said excitedly, his small hand still gripping Jungkook's. "This place is so cool! Why didn't you tell me you knew faeries?" he questioned.

Looking at him now, your heart ached for the way you, too, had once looked on in amazement and only excitement in this realm. What would this place, with its cunning smiles and sweet dangers, do to him and his precious, innocent smile?

"I'm sorry, baby," you cooed, dropping to your knees on the ground in front of you and cupping his face in your hands. You brushed his dark hair back, fingers trying not to bump onto his little horns—they had always been sensitive to the touch. "The faeries have just been so busy, I haven't seen them in so long and forgot to tell you about them."

"Can I play with them?" he asked.

"No—"

"Of course—"

You and Jungkook cut yourselves off, meeting eyes as Soobin looked between the two of you. You could almost see the thoughts swimming around in Jungkook's head, as if deciding what to say. You were too afraid to make a sound, furrowing your brows a bit and hoping that he would have some sense to how your child had been raised so far.

"Why don't your mother and I discuss that and let you know tomorrow, okay?" he eventually said, smiling sweetly at your son—his son. Soobin nodded ecstatically, throwing his arms around you for a tight hug. You squeezed him close to you, kissing the top of his head. "Now say goodnight and I'll show you to your room."

"Goodnight, Mama!" Soobin exclaimed, letting go of you quickly and slipping his tiny hand back into his father's. How were you going to explain everything to him?

Jungkook paused to look back at you as you were getting up from your knees. "I trust that you remember where your chambers are?" he inquired, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Your cheeks flushed with heat and you willed them to go back to their normal color, not wanting to look embarrassed in front of your son. "Yes," you eventually choked out, ignoring the quiet chuckle that Jungkook let out, leading your son down the hall and towards whatever room he had assigned for him.

Sighing, you turned to the other side of the hall, ashamed that your feet did remember the way to Jungkook's chambers, where you always slept, ready to embrace him into you night after night. And you hated that your groin tingled at the memories, the release from earlier still sticky against your skin, even as it dried.

"Sweetmeat," Jungkook cooed as he came into his chambers, a devilish smile playing at his lips.

Your cheeks flushed as you sat on the bed, ashamed at your own body for reacting to his voice like this. The memories flooded your brain, every muscle in your body thrumming as you expected his touch.

"Well," he said, now standing in front of you and his hips sliding between your knees. "I see you have become forgetful in your time away," he murmured, his fingertips brushing your cheek and then tucking your hair behind your ear. "Usually you would await me with nothing on that smooth skin of yours."

You cleared your throat awkwardly as you looked up at him, your legs automatically spreading wider to make room for him to stand between them. You bit your bottom lip and couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his palm, his skin warm and so familiar to you.

"I can't," you whispered, shutting your eyes so you wouldn't see the look on his face.

To your surprise, he leaned down so that his nose brushed yours. Against your better judgement, you let your eyes flutter open and you met his slitted eyes, soft as they looked at you. There was no rage or wrath.

"Why can't you, sweetmeat?" he whispered back, every word making his lips brush against yours lightly with how close he was. You took in a shaky breath, leaning back on your hands to try to put distance between the two of you. "Don't you want me to have you?"

"Yes," you replied on instinct, screwing your eyes shut as his body pressed against yours. "But Taehyung—"

Jungkook's thumb pressed against your bottom lip, stopping you. Your eyes opened again, watching how his were trained on your mouth. "No need to worry about that human," he told you. "You were always mine first." Before you could object, he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips—you never thought you would receive a simple peck from the High King, whose touch had always been so rough and ragged on you.

"I—" You breathed against his mouth, leaning in for more of his kisses. He stayed just out of reach and it felt like a punishment. "I want you," you whimpered, letting one of your hands come up to cup his cheek. You met his eyes shyly, a spark traveling through your abdomen at the dark way he looked at you, like he wished to devour you. "I want you," you repeated.

"You'll never be anyone else's," he said to you as he crawled over your body, gently pushing you back onto the lush mattress. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he tugged your baggy shirt over your torso, revealing your bare breasts to his gaze. "I simply allowed that mortal to loan you," he growled, leaning down to nip at your hard nipple.

"Yes," you sighed, your fingers digging into his dark hair. "I'm only yours." His mouth enveloped the tip of your breast, biting down around the areola and making you hiss from a mix of pain and pleasure. "I belong to you."

Jungkook pulled your sweats down your legs, lifting his head from your chest for only long enough to remove them completely and undress himself as well. Your eyes marveled at his body, not realizing how much you'd missed looking at it. Of course, you couldn't help but let your eyes trail down to his cock, which was already hard and you could feel the tingling between your legs.

His smirk widened as he grabbed your thighs, yanking you towards him until the underside of his cock was pressing against you. A quiet whimper fell from your lips.

"You don't need to be loosened, do you?" he asked sweetly, though you could hear the tinge of mocking in his tone. You'd heard it so often, right here on this very bed, that you could detect anything in Jungkook's voice.

Your cheeks were hot. "No," you whispered, shaking your head. "But I should clean fir—"

"No," he replied, rocking his hips toward you playfully. "I'll fuck you right now."

You wanted to protest, still dripping with Taehyung's cum. A pang of guilt throbbed in your chest, but the ache of desire drowned it out quickly. Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly pushed the length of his cock inside of you, a groan leaving his lips when he bottomed out.

"How are you still this tight?" he asked you, almost incredulous. "Just fucked and still this tight around my cock?"

Clenching around him, your eyes rolled back as he pulled out only a few centimeters before pushing back inside slowly. "I can't help it," you whined, spreading your thighs further apart until your knees were about to touch the silky bedcovers. "You make me this way."

When you met Jungkook's eyes, they were dark and hungry. "You're so wet," he told you, his fingers finding the flesh of your hips and digging into your skin. "I'm going to replace all this cum inside of you with my own."

Before you had a chance to say anything, or even start to feel a shred of shame, he pulled out almost all the way and then shoved himself inside of you, starting a brutal and quick pace. The bed was already shaking with the force of his movements, and your hand darted to your mouth for something to bite down onto.

As he thrusted into you, the lewd sounds echoing in the bedchamber and cum dripping past his cock and down your skin onto the bed, all your thoughts melted away. You had missed him. You'd missed everything about him—your body had missed him. Logically, you knew that this was wrong, that you had finally managed to find peace with the family you had created—but now—

"Jungkook," you moaned, releasing your hand from the bite of your teeth, and slid it onto his shoulder. "I need you—"

"Of course you do, sweetmeat," he cooed, though you could feel the shiver that went through his body. "You belong to me."

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer to your body. One of his hands moved up from your hip, his palm dragging lightly against your bare skin, cupping your breast and squeezing it in his hands. You whimpered and he pinched your nipple between his fingers, almost too painfully, but you liked it—maybe a little too much.

When his hand moved higher up your body to your neck, squeezing it gently while he shoved himself deeper and deeper into you with every thrust of his hips, you couldn't help the wanton moan that ripped its way out of your throat. Your legs tightened around him, trying to hold him inside of you forever while you twitched and squirmed, your orgasm building quickly and intensely.

"That's it, sweet thing," he purred, pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, using his other hand to push your thigh up so he could shove it in further while you came, clenching around him sporadically. "Did your human make you feel this good?"

"No," you croaked, seeing stars. "No one has ever made me feel this good." And you weren't lying, even though the guilt had started to eat its way through the pleasure in your abdomen.

Jungkook hummed and then started up his agonizing pace once more, making your body squirm and your toes curl.

"I can't," you begged, hands lowering to the bedsheets and clawing them in your fingers. "It hurts—"

"You can," he replied smoothly, and the head of his cock brushed the sensitive spot inside of you. You clenched hard, a cry falling from your mouth. "You will, human."

He pulled his cock out of you and when you looked down, it was wet with a mix of your slick and the cum that had still been inside of you. You didn't have the energy to feel embarrassed, though your cheeks did flush a little hotter than before. In one fluid movement, Jungkook turned you onto your stomach, his hands finding purchase on your hips and pulling them up so that your ass was in the air and your face was pressed against the bed.

You felt the slide of his cock back into you, eyes rolling back and fingers gripping the sheets. As it filled you, the squelch of it entering you again filling the room, Jungkook fisted your hair in his hand and pulled your head up.

Your body was still reeling from your orgasm—the second one that night—so you could do nothing but let him hold you in place there, a little moan coming out of your throat with every harsh thrust.

"That's a good girl," he groaned, his cock twitching inside of you while his thrusts started to slow down. "You always did take my cock so well for a human."

"Yes," you whispered, feeling a little bit of your spit on the corner of your lip. "It's all for you."

Jungkook moaned, shoving your head back down onto the bed, fingers still tightly gripping your hair. The slight pain from his hold mixed well with the pleasure of him rubbing against that spot inside of you over and over until you could barely take it.

"It's like you were molded for me," he said roughly, his body towering over yours as he tried to bury himself inside of you as far as he could go.

"I was," you said in a broken whimper, and you felt the twitch of his cock, followed by a spurt of his release, hot inside of you and filling you completely.

He rolled his hips a few times, and while still inside of you, his hand released your hair and curled around your torso, fingers finding your clit immediately. Your eyes widened for a second, the feeling of his fingers moving against your clit mixing between pleasure and pain. While his seed slipped past his cock and down your thighs, the feelings all crashed into you at once—guilt, pleasure, pain, shame, tingling—and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his hand and orgasm a second time.

When you were done, seeing stars behind your eyelids, he finally pulled out of you, letting his seed spill out of you and allowing your body to fall completely against the cool bed.

Turning to face him as he laid next to you, you couldn't even muster up a smile. Even with sweat on his face, his dark hair clinging to his skin, he still looked beautiful and ethereal.

Jungkook's eyes met yours and you couldn't stop your panting, your body completely spent—you couldn't even bring yourself to care about the mix of your slick and his seed still dripping out of you and onto the bed.

"Are you spent, sweetmeat?" he asked, a smirk starting to play at his lips.

You sighed and nodded, eyes still focused on his. "Yes," you replied slowly. "It's been... A long time," you settled on, not sure how to navigate your absence, even if he had originally allowed it.

"Well," he said gleefully. "You will get used to it again, soon."

It was then that you realized you couldn't see his other hand. When you let your eyes follow his arm down to his hand, you realized it was stroking his still hard cock, your slick and his come mixing all over it. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes widened—though, you could already feel the heat of desire in your belly and the tingling between your thighs as you clenched and unclenched around nothing.

"We are going to have so much fun, sweetmeat," Jungkook snickered, rolling over towards you to lick into your mouth.

The music and feasting was something you had missed, watching all the faeries let loose and be themselves, as grotesque as that might look to your human eyes. Jungkook had seated you at the table, taking Soobin away to introduce him to others and show him around a bit.

You were dressed in a gown made of silk, the neckline dipping almost halfway down your chest, but still covering your breasts from view—Jungkook could be possessive when he wished.

The faeries had given you looks, some with curiosity and some with suspicion—others even with pity, if you weren't completely delusional. Your eyes stayed trained on your son, who was learning how to play a game from the other young faeries around him.

"He belongs here," Jungkook whispered in your ear, spooking you for a moment. You looked up at him as he grinned at Soobin, watching him still as he took his seat beside you at the table, his hand patting your thigh before resting on the arm of his chair.

"I didn't think he'd fit in so well," you admitted, unable to stop the smile on your lips and the softness in your voice when Soobin laughed, holding hands with a young faerie who was dripping sap from their limbs.

Jungkook hummed and lightly tapped your chin with his fingers, turning your face to look at him. "Eat," he said flatly. "You belong here, too."

You swallowed nervously. Your eyes darted down to your plate, full of deliciously smelling food, the aroma calling to you. "Jungkook," you whispered, looking back at him.

His fingertips were so soft against your skin that their presence there could've been a hallucination—but you could feel a razor sharp tingle where they touched you, a subtle threat in the gentleness.

"Jungkook, when will we be able to go home?" you asked quietly,

Though his face hadn't changed, you could feel the tension settling in between your bodies. He hummed and let his fingers drag down from your chin to your neck, and then further down to your collarbones. You shivered, letting your eyes flutter shut while they continued their way down between your neckline, every touch of his igniting the nerves in your body.

His hand shot up and gripped your throat, startling your eyes into opening. He didn't tighten his hold, simply keeping a slight pressure on your neck. Jungkook's expression was wicked—and cruel.

"This is your home," he cooed, though nothing about his tone was soft. He leaned in closer, bringing you closer in as well with his hand around your throat. Your breath caught and he brushed his nose against yours lightly, eyes never wavering from yours. "I thought I did well to remind you of that earlier, sweetmeat."

Heat flooded your cheeks, traveling down your chest and between your thighs. You clasped them together instinctively and shuddered when you saw Jungkook's gaze glance down towards your legs.

"Should I remind you here, sweetmeat?" he continued, snickering at the way you were going pliant in his grasp. "Shall I show my court who you belong to?"

You wanted to say yes—everything in your body was craving him already, wanting every bit of him all over you. And to have every faerie in his court watch as he took you—over and over again—you could barely resist the temptation.

But you couldn't give in right now.

"I want you to," you whimpered, shutting your eyes again as he leaned in closer, licking your lips lewdly. He bit your bottom lip and you gasped, allowing him to press closer, kissing you lazily. His hands released your throat and moved back to the nape of your neck, holding you in place while he kissed you.

"Ew!" a voice exclaimed, a voice that was too familiar—and the entire reason you were planning to refuse his tempting offer.

You tore yourself away from Jungkook, who looked puzzled. "Binnie!" you breathed, shifting in your seat. "What's up, honey?"

Jungkook's hand stayed firmly in its place at the back of your neck, hot and heavy.

"Mama, what are you doing?" your son asked, crinkling his nose up in disgust.

"Your dad and I, we just—we just missed each other, that's all," you explained quickly. "Sometimes adults do that when they really love each other!"

Soobin frowned, tilting his head to the side. Before he could ask anymore questions, Jungkook smiled down at him. "Why don't you go to bed, Soobin?" he said, though you could see even your son, at such a young age, instinctively knew to heed his king's command.

An older faerie, one whose hair looked like sea moss trailing all the way down to its feet, arrived quickly and started to pull Soobin and the other young faerie with him away from the table.

"Wait!" he cried out, rushing over to your side.

You quickly enveloped him in your arms, raising him up to your lap. "What's wrong?" you asked, cupping his cheeks in your palms.

"You didn't give me a goodnight kiss," he pouted, wrapping his small arms around you for a hug.

"Aw, my baby Binnie," you cooed, kissing the top of his head. "Mama loves you so much." He looked up at you, his pouting lips still the same, and you kissed his cheek three times.

"I love you, too, Mama," he replied, leaning up to give your cheek a kiss as well. He looked over to Jungkook. "Can I give Dad a kiss, too?"

You hesitated, looking over at the High King, whose face was unreadable. Then, he opened his arms up in a welcoming gesture—Soobin hurriedly climbed down from your lap and rushed to his father, who gave him a peck on the cheek and ruffled his matching dark hair.

Once your son was bounding away, happily chatting with the faeries surrounding him, you sighed and turned to look at the High King, who you found already watching you.

"This is his home," Jungkook repeated harshly. You pursed your lips, hating yourself for the butterflies in your stomach when you knew Taehyung was waiting for you in the human realm. "Soobin belongs here." You didn't want to admit it, though you knew both of you knew perfectly well that he did fit in here—especially once his horns fully grew in atop his head. "Our other children will belong here, too."

Your cheeks flushed and your eyes widened, taken aback at his words. His face was unreadable, even after spending so much of your time with him. "Other children?" you gasped.

"Yes," he said easily, turning away from you and looking over the dancing and partying faeries. "I need many heirs."

A faerie took his attention before you could formulate any words in response to his statement, but you couldn't stop the pounding of your heart in your chest and the quick soar of elation that filled your head with dangerous thoughts—thoughts of the two of you together for the eternity you had promised to him, of you as his bride, of belonging to this world eternally.

You didn't see Jungkook for the rest of the night, but that didn't stop your imagination from running wild with the possibilities of your future together.

The nights passed in a blur of music, little adventures with Soobin, and reliving your memories from years ago. You couldn't help but lose yourself in this world, fully immersed in the customs and life of Faerie—especially now that you were anticipating your new familial life with Jungkook, as he'd implied.

The door shut behind him quickly and you were already slipping the straps of your dress off of your shoulders, the glitter from the fabric sticking to your skin. It fell to the ground softly and Jungkook's hands were already running down your arms, his body right behind yours.

You turned your face sideways to glance back at him, heat already pooling in your lower abdomen at his touch.

"Lie to me, sweetmeat," he whispered, dropping his head to press kisses to your shoulder, nipping at the flesh with his teeth.

You shuddered as his clothed body pressed into your bare one from behind, the tickle of the fabric causing goosebumps to raise on your skin.

"I want to go home," you murmured, your body molding against his as he walked you forward, bending you over onto the mattress. He undid his pants, letting them fall to the ground, and slid his hard cock against your ass.

You whined and pushed back against him, not even embarrassed at how slick you already were. You were already clenching around nothing in anticipation.

"How badly do you want me?" he asked, keeping one palm spread on your back to hold you down. His foot kicked your legs further apart to open you up completely to him. "Do you crave me?"

You moaned as the head of his cock pushed into your folds lightly but pulled away before giving you what you wanted. "Yes," you said. "I've never stopped wanting you."

Jungkook finally—finally—pushed his cock into you, sliding all the way in easily. He said nothing for a while, simply groaning and thrusting in and out of you, filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin against skin. You were gripping fistfuls of the sheets, even biting down on them when his pace became unforgiving.

"How often did you picture me when that human was buried inside of you?" he asked, and you could hear the large grin in his voice. You didn't answer, heat flooding into your cheeks. "Were you hoping it was my cock inside of you, filling you with my seed?" You moaned in response, clenching tight around him as he picked up his pace even faster, almost slamming his cock into you over and over. "Answer me," he growled, his fingers finding your hair and pulling your head up from where it was flush against the bed.

"Yes," you admitted, your voice shaking. "I wanted you to be the one fucking me—"

Jungkook's door opened and you flinched, though his grip on you didn't loosen and his movements only slowed, never stopping.

A woman came into view, though your eyesight was blurred and you had to focus them to see what she looked like.

"Ah, Wife," Jungkook purred, slowly pushing his cock into you so you could feel every centimeter.

"Husband," she replied easily, barely glancing at you.

You clenched around him from your shock, your little breathy sounds fading into the background. You couldn't stop your body from pushing back into him, wanton for him.

"What is it?" he asked, his hips still pounding into you from behind. You were staring at the woman, unable to take your eyes off of her as you took in her beauty. Her hair was a light blue, the very tips turning white and ending near her hips. There was a small golden crown wrapped around head, weaving through her hair like vines. Her ears were long and pointed—longer than Jungkook's ears.

"I see you returned your pet," she said instead, blankly looking over your form. You felt like you were being shown at an auction, but you couldn't muster up any feelings of shame, still used to the way the High King would keep you exposed to anyone who opened his door—even his apparent wife.

"I have," he returned gleefully, snickering. His cock slipped out of you with a lewd sound and his hands gripped your body, forcefully turning you over from your bent position so that you were laying flat on your back on the bed. You let out a small sound at the shift, but his cock was already burying itself inside of you again, brushing against your g-spot and making you moan loudly instead. "Isn't she exquisite?"

"She's very loud," his wife said plainly. "I can see the appeal."

Jungkook rocked his hips into you at a slow pace, one of his hands moving up to your breast and kneading it, pinching your nipple hard as you cried out, clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

"They require you in the meeting hall tomorrow morning," his wife continued. Jungkook merely hummed, his eyes completely focused on his cock disappearing into you over and over slowly. "Do not forget to attend."

"You should really try a human woman," Jungkook redirected, biting his lip and hissing as his bottomed-out cock twitched inside of you. You whimpered, unable to help the flush of arousal at the thought of her joining, memories of the others flooding your head for a few moments. You wrapped your legs around Jungkook's hips, pulling him tighter against you as he chuckled.

"I have humans," she replied, eyes running up and down your sweaty body and stopping for a few seconds too long on your breasts. "I find myself more inclined for the men of the species."

"Your loss," he grunted, grabbing your hips and yanking you harder towards him, picking up his brutal pace again and filling the air with the sounds of your skin slapping together. "Close the door."

You watched her nod her head towards him slightly before she retreated, pulling the door shut behind her. You could feel the orgasm building inside of you as he continued his movements, all your thoughts and words scrambled in your head.

"That's it, sweetmeat," he cooed, hissing as he rushed his pace. "Come all over me."

You moaned loudly at his command and felt complied to respond with your body, the pleasure tightening in your belly first as your orgasm hit you like a wave, shockwaves throbbing through your body as he continued to thrust into you through it.

"Jungkook," you panted, tightening your legs around his hips and fisting the sheets in your fingers as you winced. "It hurts—"

"Take it, human," he said blankly, his eyes focused on yours intently. You bit your bottom lip and shivered, trying to move your hips along to his bruising pace. "You're so good for me," he purred, leaning down as he stilled inside of you so that he could lick into your mouth lewdly. You could feel his cock twitch before he came, spurting his seed deep inside of you.

"Jungkook," you whimpered, arching your back, arousal swirling in your belly at the feeling of him releasing.

He shushed you as he rode out his orgasm, keeping himself flush against you even as he began to soften and his come started to slip out of you and down your thighs to the bed. As you kissed him back, licking back into his mouth and running your fingers through his dark hair and touching his horns lightly, causing him to growl against your lips, you couldn't help but remember the faerie that had stopped by.

"You're married," you whispered against his lips.

He pulled back just enough to look at you and a razor sharp smile was present on his mouth. "Yes," he said. "The High King must be wed for the future of Faerie." When you didn't say anything, pondering his words to you earlier, he continued as his finger began to trace your cheek. "Did you think I would marry you, sweetmeat?"

Your cheeks flushed. "No."

Jungkook laughed loudly and then pressed a harsh kiss to your pouting lips. "Humans are so fascinating when they lie," he finished, and you could feel him getting hard again inside of you. You squirmed underneath him as he kept you pinned down, a gleeful glint in his eyes as he watched you.

"Again, Jungkook?" you whined, though you were already clenching around him and rocking your hips up into him, your body begging him to start moving again.

He hummed and grinded against you slowly, enjoying the sounds your sticky bodies made with every movement. His hand came to grip your face and he held you still, pulling his cock out halfway and then sliding back in slowly. "I will keep you here, bred and ready for me for eternity," he said roughly, the head of his cock brushing against your g-spot again and making you mewl. He took the opportunity to lick into your open mouth.

When he released you, you sighed against his lips and pressed your thighs against the bed to allow him in deeper. "For eternity," you promised.

Jungkook's hips bucked into you and started another brutal pace, filling the room with your moans for the rest of the night.

"Soobin!" you called, running your hand down your belly bump and feeling the fabric of your dress, like silk, cool against your palm. Each of your fingers was adorned in rings, some metal and some vine. "Bring your brother and sister from the trees."

Your oldest son rolled his eyes, his horns curled backwards and ears almost as long as Jungkook's. He was taller than you now, his growth spurt hitting him years prior, and you couldn't help but smile at him sweetly as you made your way to the long table. Jungkook was seated at the head of the table, your family feasting inside the castle on a rare occasion. His wife was seated to his right and you made your way to his left, huffing as you struggled to sit comfortably.

Jungkook's smile to you was as sweet as it could be. "They should be content to play," he started, but you tutted at him and leaned back in the chair.

"I want them to have some connection to human manners," you replied easily, already used to having the same conversation every time you ate inside.

"I think it's good for them," Hana said, interjecting for once into the conversation.

You nodded your head at her, gesturing. "See?"

Jungkook sighed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms across his chest. "Yes, yes, go ahead and gang up on me."

"Daddy!" your daughter called out loudly, the rushed footsteps of her and her siblings filling the hall as they ran over to the table. Jungkook immediately opened his arms and let her jump into his lap, running his hand down her long dark hair. "Minnie hit me!"

Jungkook hummed, looking over at his two sons as they took their seats beside you, Soobin first. "And what did you do back?"

Ha Yoon smiled wickedly. "I bit him."

Jungkook and Hana laughed. He let her down from his lap, patting the top of her head. She bounced over to you, pulling on the tips of your hair the same way she used to as a baby. You lowered your head as much as you could and then winced when she nipped at your cheek with her sharp teeth. She giggled when you returned it with a kiss to her head and then rushed over to sit beside her brother.

"Soobin," Jungkook started as the servants, a mix of faeries and humans alike, began to place the food on the table and into your plates. "Have you thought about Hana's proposition?"

Soobin perked up, though your body tensed. Jungkook's eyes cut to you for a brief second, noticing your reaction, before he returned his gaze to your son.

"Yes," he replied, his voice much deeper than it had been when you'd returned to Faerie. "I'd like to go."

You bit the inside of your cheek and shoveled a spoonful of food into your mouth, now used to the wonderfully rich tastes this world had to offer you.

"Wonderful!" Jungkook said, smiling widely. "The carriages leave tomorrow for the Court. You'll go with them."

"My brother will teach you well," Hana said, smiling at Soobin sweetly. She had been like a second mother to him all these years, so you understood that your anxiety was rooted in nothing but jealousy and a wish to keep your children near you. "Oh, and Jungkook," she continued, turning her attention to her husband while you fussed over Soobin and Minhyuk.

"Yes, Wife?" he hummed, making a face at his daughter, who looked the most like him out of the three children.

"I'm pregnant," she giggled.

Jungkook's ears twitched and he turned to her quickly, all sounds quieting in the hall. "You are?"

"Yes."

"That's wonderful, Wife," he said smoothly, reaching over and holding her hand in his. You eyed their intertwined fingers and rings with a rush of jealousy, but the anxiety in your chest worsened. "Faerie will be full of my children's laughter."

They looked over at you expectantly. "Congratulations, Hana," you gulped, smiling as wide as you could to mask your fears.

She smiled tightly back at you, her eyes darting down to your own pregnant belly. "Thank you," she said.

Jungkook reached over and took your hand in his so that he was holding both of your hands. "We will celebrate and have a feast tomorrow with the courts," he said. He squeezed your hand and then released Hana's first, using his now free hand to pat your arm before he let go.

"So we're going to have another brother?" Minhyuk asked, speaking for the first time since he sat down. Your middle son was rather quiet and looked more like you than his father, though you didn't think Jungkook minded. He spoiled them all the same.

"Or sister," Hana told him, her face back to the usual stoic expression that everyone was familiar with.

"And it'll be two of them," you told him. Minhyuk tilted his head and then went back to his food, shoveling it in ravenously.

"And there will still be time for more," Jungkook said wickedly. "From both of you." His foot bumped into yours and you looked up at him through your lashes, arousal swirling between your legs when he winked at you and reached over to rest his hand on your thigh. Hana gasped and you looked over to her, watching how her cheeks flushed pink and you could see that Jungkook's other hand was below the table in her direction as well.

He released both of you again and continued his food, the children chatting with each other and him, mostly, excited to have their father's attention since most of his morning and afternoon had been spent in his office and among his advisors.

Once the children were done with their food, they excused themselves from the table and went to go continue playing. Soobin decided to go off on his own from his siblings, but you still had no idea where he went on nights like these; Jungkook always quelled your worries, telling you that he was at that age now where he should be left alone when he needed to be, instead of fretted over.

Jungkook gestured for you with his hands and you rose from your chair, moving over to stand in front of him. He placed his hands on your belly, eyes devouring you in a way that made you want to push your thighs together for relief. He smirked.

"Have they told you what it is yet?" he asked.

"No," you replied quietly, glancing over at Hana. "They say it'll be another boy."

"Faeries and their theories," he sighed, though his tone was fond. "We'll be visiting the Unseelie Court in a few days," he continued.

"Me as well?" you asked, confused. Usually him and his wife went, but you stayed here.

"Yes," he said. "Hana will be going with Soobin. You will come with me."

You bit your lip as his hands started to travel down your dress, using his fingers to pull the fabric up higher and higher, pulling you closer to his lap as he did so. Even after all these years, he was still insatiable.

"I will go prepare and find Soobin," she interrupted, standing up and dragging your attention away from Jungkook.

He stopped her for a brief second, though his hands continued their work until your dress was lifted enough for him to slide his fingers along your unclothed folds, gathering the slick of your arousal on them before he pushed two inside at once, making you whimper as you leaned back on the table.

"Be ready for me tonight, Wife," he told her. She nodded her head.

Then she took a few steps forward, leaning down and pressing her lips to yours. You gasped into her mouth, letting her tongue press against yours as Jungkook snickered from below you, continuing to work his fingers in and out of you. Hana pulled away with an obscene pop of her mouth, biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and make you hiss, clenching around Jungkook's fingers.

"I will be," she told him after, leaning down and kissing him harshly. He groaned and rubbed his thumb against your clit with every lick of her tongue against his. Then she pulled away and left the hall, you suspected to her own quarters.

Jungkook pulled his fingers from you and put them in his mouth, licking your slick off while he maintained eye contact with you. He let go of your dress, letting it drop back down to cover your legs, and stood from his chair, walking past the table and looking back at you.

"Come, sweetmeat," he commanded you. Rushing forward as fast as you could in your condition, you slipped your hand into his and allowed him to lead you out into the hall. Jungkook took the opposite turn from the hall leading to his bedroom, instead leading you towards the doors that led into the massive back gardens of the castle, one of your favorite places. You could feel your cheeks flushing with excitement already, knowing he was going to splay you out for anyone wandering the garden to see.

Your packed suitcase was ready beside you, but you ignored it and spent your time fixing Soobin's shirt collar and patting down his hair. He shook his head around, huffing as you fussed over him.

"Mom, I'm not going to be gone so long," he protested, though his voice was soft. You frowned, letting your fingers run through his dark hair one last time before you lowered your hand.

Hana flicked his nose lightly, earning a noise of complaint from the now young adult. "A mother worries, Binnie," she chided him. You smiled lightly when he lowered his head, mumbling an apology to you at her words. He held your hand lightly and pressed a kiss to the back.

"My sweet boy," you said almost tearfully, bringing him in for a hug even though he stood much taller than you. He wiggled uncomfortably, trying not to press too hard against your belly as he returned the hug. "Be safe."

He pulled back with a large smile. "You, as well."

Jungkook arrived, pressing a hand to the small of your back to nudge you forward. "Let us go, sweetmeat," he told you, still using his favorite nickname of yours after so many years. "Yeon will care for the children while we are away."

You looked back, waving to your other two children, who were still so young they couldn't care any less about all of them leaving for about a week's time. "Take care of him, Hana," you said quietly, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze.

She smiled pleasantly. "As I always have," she replied, returning your squeeze.

Jungkook ruffled Soobin's hair. "Do give them some trouble," he said wickedly, sharing a similar smile of mischief with his oldest son. He leaned over and pressed a long kiss to his wife's mouth, sliding his hand to the back of her neck to keep her close while Soobin started to put their bags in their carriage. When he pulled away, her lips were plump and red from his.

You waved to them as they got in and the drivers led them away, your own carriage pulling up to the front and the servants opening the door. Jungkook easily tossed the suitcases in and then helped you up, always more caring and careful when you were carrying his children. He slid into the seat beside you, never preferring to be across from you like in the shows you had always seen, even if sitting beside each other was more cramped.

"Do not worry, human," Jungkook told you blandly, not even looking out of the window as the carriage started to move, taking you away from the place you had become so familiar with. "We will only be visiting a few days and then we will be back with our children."

You couldn't help but take his hand in yours, thankful he simply opened his palm and let you intertwine your fingers together. "I know," you said, leaning over and resting your head on his shoulder.

As the carriage continued on, you dragged your free hand down your belly nervously, hoping that all your fears concerning the courts were unwarranted and simply human anxieties.

all rights reserved © junqkook | 13 MARCH 2024 | the reposting/modifying of any kind on any medium is strictly not allowed. translations are not allowed.

[hxseok-honee]

control [1] || trouble - stripped.

control [chapter 1] || demon king ! yoongi written au

masterlist || playlist

[but i've got my mind made up this time // 'cause there's a menace in my bed // can you see his silhouette?]

a/n: welcome to chapter 1 of this 9-part series!! there’s a LOT of worldbuilding here so please feel free to ask any questions you want after reading!! ill try to clarify anything that isn’t too much of a spoiler! 

i will try to post part 2 as soon as it’s done, but this chapter was 20 pages long, and i simply don’t write that fast, so please be patient! additionally, please feel free to check out the playlist - the chapters are aligned with the songs they’re named after and would make good mood setters if you’re someone who likes that reading experience.

a note to minors: this series will contain smut and sexual themes, so please do not interact with this series! thank you!

taglist [open!]:

@deepseavibez @thetrueghostqueen @reddeathraven @sopebubbles-replies @skyrro @unadulteratedlyunique @ramyagovindraj @itismochirice @wwhseokjin @drpepperobsessed @thekookiecorner @army-moa75 @burningupp @lele-bb  @pb-n-juju @heonsbebe @peachyyoongs @superloverpielamp @marifujioka @butterflylion @heyitsgigi @lochness-butmakeitsexy @miki-chi @cahowlkook @worshiphoseok @lilacdreams-00 @miriamxsworld @oasiswithmyg @peonyplace @taeshuworld @instantspot @x-xjaeminx-x @luvtaeha @knjsagustd @speedyengineerhologram @wrmnssoul @jaiuneamesolitaiire @loveyoongles @siredsong @jooniesbanoonies @supahumbreon @goodnight-n-go-home @robsdrope @apolloxxivmin @tarahardcore @slayergroupie0128 @tutnotmytea @aestheticsluut @annie0568​ @cosmicdaylight​

___________________________

“This assembly of the Ruling Court is hereby now in session.” 

Yoongi sighs deeply, running his fingers through his hair once and cracking his neck to ease the tension building in the back of his head. These meetings only happen four times a year - once per season - and somehow he feels like this might be the hardest part of his whole job. 

His eyes skim over each of the kings seated here at the High Table with him, trying to gauge everyone’s moods from their body language. King Lee from the Western Dragonguard, already on his second cup of mead and clearly feeling it. King Park of the Northern Borderlands, shrouded in an air of suspicion, not that that’s anything of interest. With a nickname like the Paranoid Recluse, it’s a wonder the guy even bothers to show up to these meetings at all. 

Yoongi’s amused by his own internal monologue, the ghost of a smile crossing his exhausted features. It catches the attention of the man seated directly across from him, Yoongi meeting the eyes of King Kim and finding a subtle grin on his own face. Much closer in age to Yoongi than any of these other crabby old men, Kim (of the Southern Gardens) had treated Yoongi as an equal from the moment he’d stepped into power. The respect is mutual, and Yoongi has felt on more than one occasion that he’s only safe in these gatherings due to the presence of this unspoken ally. 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. The air around him twists with energy in response to the physical contact, his aura shifting protectively. Wisps of black smoke peek into his peripheral vision as they swarm him, assessing the situation and deciding he’s in no danger before sinking back into his skin comfortably. 

He has no cause for worry - he knows there’s only one person in this room that would ever dare to lay a hand on him, King Kim included. As welcoming as Kim may be, Yoongi’s well aware that he’s the odd man out - the black smoke that surrounds him like a cape is only one of many markers of his bloodline. 

The hand on his shoulder squeezes once, pulling Yoongi back again. At the imperceptible nod of his head, it slides off of him, but its owner lingers close, a helicopter parent in his own way. 

Taehyung can be a bit overbearing at times, but not once since they’ve met has Yoongi made a decision with anything less than full confidence. It’s only because of this that he lets Tae drag him to these damned meetings every season - he knows his advisor would never let him get away with hiding away in his castle like he wants to. 

“The first item on the agenda is the economic state of affairs in the Southern Gardens-” 

Kim cuts off the small herald at the front of the room with a tired sigh.

“As I have insisted to the Court on numerous occasions, there is no need to question my ability to manage the Five Nations’ economic needs - I’ve only been King for ten damn years.” 

Yoongi snorts under his breath - it seems being human isn’t enough to save Kim from the suspicions of the older kings. It doesn’t matter that he’s singlehandedly lifted the economic prosperity of the Five Nations to heights they’d never seen before he’d come into power. Apparently, just being under the age of 50 is reason enough to distrust him. 

“Well, with all your partying and grand monetary gestures, it’s not unreasonable to ask how reasonable you can really be with all of our money.” 

Yoongi bites back the sigh this time - King Jung wasn’t really in the habit of staying quiet for this long, so he’d hoped that maybe the man had found some kind of inner peace since the last meeting. 

Apparently not.

Of all the bothersome men Yoongi is forced to break bread with, Jung is quite possibly the worst of all. And while he’s seen cruel men - while he’s known, far too well, what a cruel king looks like - Jung might just be the cruelest he’d ever encountered. 

From the moment Yoongi had taken the throne of the Eastern Seascapes, the Nexus had aligned itself as a direct enemy. The central-most kingdom of the Five Nations, the Nexus had been ruled by Jung Yunho since Yoongi was a kid. And he’d never heard a kind thing said about the man in his whole life. With reason, of course.

A political ally, constantly straddling the line between civility and warfare. The Ruling Court requires each of the Five Nations to remain allies for the sake of their reliance on one another. Each nation thrives in its own way, providing for the entire land in exchange for shared peace and resources. 

Naturally, the Eastern Seascapes had always been a wild card. Its borders consist of forest-lined danger, feral demons hiding in its darkness while they wait for unprepared prey to wander into the treeline. And, while the East’s history is filled with attempted conquerings, it had become clear over time that only a demon - a strong one - would be capable of ruling over that land and keeping the danger from invading the other nations. The Min family had stepped in to do the job, an unyielding powerhouse of demonic energy - just the solution the Five Nations had been looking for. 

And now, almost 100 years later, Yoongi’s stuck in this god-damned meeting, in the god-damned Nexus. 

“By ‘partying and grand monetary gestures’, did you mean my wedding, King Jung? The one that you so willingly attended and enjoyed to its full capacity? Was it in any way different from the countless balls and festivals you feel so inclined to host at a moment’s notice?” Kim’s glare cuts across the table as he speaks, daring Jung to challenge him.

Yoongi’s eyes catch the huff that Jung lets out, and he’s relatively satisfied with the way that Kim had put him in his place. Another reason to like the guy.

Jung snaps his fingers once, his servant squeaking and fumbling with the scroll in his hands.

“U-Uhm… Ah yes, onto the next item of the agenda! The annual military drafting procession and traveling party to the Eastern Seascapes. King Min, if you will…” The servant gestures weakly in Yoongi’s general direction, never meeting his eyes. Most people can’t.

Yoongi shifts in his seat, unsure what to say. He says the same thing every year - that’s why it’s called an annual military drafting. It happens every fucking year.

“His Majesty has made the appropriate preparations and has no significant updates for the Court. The draft will depart from the Nexus in two days’ time and arrive in the Eastern Seascapes in just under a week - there are 12 recruits this year, each of whom will remain in the East for the mandatory 2 years before either returning to their respective kingdoms or extending their service in the East for another term.”

The voice that rings out above Yoongi’s head is deep and even, likely surprising a few of the kings’ own servants. It’s not common to bring an advisor on these trips, so it’s a very foreign concept to the men in this room that Yoongi would have someone with him who’s also capable of speaking for him. 

It doesn’t help that Taehyung’s entirely unwavering when he addresses the Court. He leaves no room for question when he speaks, which is a trait that Yoongi both respects and at times despises. 

He’s feeling pretty grateful for it right now, especially when Jung only glares and snaps again at his servant. Time to move on to a new item of conversation.

“N-now then, onto discussing King Min’s marriage candidacy…” 

Yoongi changes his mind - he’s not feeling grateful anymore.

“I beg your pardon?” 

His own voice is foreign to him, low and raspy from underuse. He’s perfectly happy with letting Taehyung handle his affairs, but he just couldn’t contain his surprise, a dark eyebrow lifting in agreement. 

The herald’s visibly sweating now, nervous about the tendrils of black that are starting to snake around under the High Table. His voice cracks with anxiety as he elaborates. 

“I-it has come to the attention o-of the Court that His Majesty has yet to take a wife… There are concerns about His Majesty’s ruling capabilities given his inability to find a suitable partner for producing an heir-“ 

Yoongi’s stopped listening, his annoyance spiking as his eyes flick over to Jung. The man is wearing a smug grin as he leans his elbows forward on the table and addresses Yoongi.

“It’s been five years since you’ve taken the throne, young man. It’s time for you to do your kingly duties and find a woman who will give you an heir and solidify your family’s continued alliance with the Nations.”

Yoongi only stares, eyes cold as he calculates the situation. Calculates the threat lingering in the man’s words. 

“His Majesty need not take a wife in order to reassure the Court of his alliance to the Nations. Additionally, the lifespan of a demon is generally longer than that of a healthy human, meaning His Majesty should be in no rush to produce an heir-“ 

“I wasn’t talking to you, peasant.” 

Taehyung blinks at the interruption, unfazed by Jung’s attitude. It’s relatively tame, given his temper. 

“The Court, and just about anyone with eyes, knows exactly what caused the… untimely passing of this brat’s father.” Jung gestures rudely at Yoongi, who has yet to relocate his glare anywhere else. The man snarls, leaning in again. Yoongi wonders if the table will crack under his weight.

“Or should I say… we know who caused the previous king’s death.” 

When Yoongi doesn’t react to the obvious provocation, Jung sighs, throwing himself roughly back into his chair. He’s a man who prides himself on inciting anger and fear in others - Yoongi’s happy to deprive him of that satisfaction.

“We all know you killed your own father in cold blood, boy. We let you take your stolen power and contribute to the peace of these lands, but now it’s been years and we have no way of knowing if you’ll revolt or stay loyal to us. Either you take a wife and produce an heir, or we take your negligence as an act of war-“ 

“My Lord, if you would have some patience - there’s no need to jump to declarations of war. King Min has shown no malice to the Court or to the people of the Five Nations in any of his time at this High Table. If anything, he’s treated his subjects with much more kindness than his father had ever shown, and he has kept the peace by continuing the military draft and culling the rising dangers of the East.”

Yoongi’s got to admit, he’d never been openly defended by anyone other than Taehyung before. It’s shocking to see Kim jump so readily to his defense. But he can’t say he doesn’t appreciate it. He knows if he’d made these points himself, the other kings would only see him as self-preserving and desperate to argue. 

“King Jung has a point here, though. King Min is far too young and too unpredictable to be trusted - how do we know he won’t go rogue?” Lee speaks up from behind his fourth cup of mead, Park nodding along suspiciously. Yoongi feels himself growing exhausted. 

“His Majesty is perfectly capable of ruling the East without the interference of the Court - has he demonstrated in the past any evidence of anarchy-“ 

“I am tired of hearing your voice, you insolent child!“ Jung slams a heavy hand down on the table in rage when Taehyung speaks. Yoongi can feel that they are all startled, but powerful men in a politically charged meeting are nothing more than performers on a stage. None of them reveals an ounce of emotion, not even when the herald starts to cry softly in his own fear. 

Jung jabs a fat finger in Taehyung’s direction, disgust written all over his face. 

“The Kings at this table will not be addressed by a mere servant such as yourself. Your presence in this room is nothing more than decoration - do you see any of these other men interrupting this conversation?!” 

Taehyung’s eyes flit around the room at the servants hovering behind each of their respective kings. No, none of them are speaking - but none of them hold the title he does. 

“Answer me, boy.” 

Taehyung’s gaze flies once more to Jung, and he’s unable to stop the satisfaction that fills his eyes when he speaks.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, but your instructions were not very clear - I thought you were tired of hearing my voice.” 

Yoongi lets his eyes close, sighing softly. Taehyung’s always had an issue holding his tongue. 

There’s a cup flying across the room at his snarky response, a sticky arc of mead making its way through the air and onto the table with an unsatisfying splat. Taehyung only leans slightly to the left, the cup soaring past his ear and clattering to the floor behind him. 

“You will not talk back to me in my own kingdom! You’re nothing more than scum under my boot- show your king some respect!”

Taehyung watches the sole ruler of the Nexus throw a literal temper tantrum, disappointed but unsurprised. He’s considering making another comment, mostly because he’d always found it fun to taunt the cruelest king in the land, but he finds that he doesn’t have time to say anything at all.

There’s a wall of black smoke flying into his vision, circling the space in front of him viciously. He can’t even see Yoongi anymore, his king disappearing instantly under the swirling cloud. 

The air in the room whips around the High Table angrily, knocking over bottles of mead and yanking dangerously at the sheer curtains blocking the windows. The heavy double door doors to the Meeting Room, which had previously sat open, are slammed shut without warning. The men in the room all jump, performances forgotten in the wake of the Demon King. 

Yoongi’s body emerges from the swirling globe of darkness, back arched as vines of black aura - his aura - support his weight and set him down. He seems entirely detached from the actions his body takes, gaze clouded and unaware. But he’s always in control. 

The moment his feet touch the ground, the whirlwind of chaos in the room is suspended - the air stills, wisps of darkness lingering in the space around him for just a moment - and then it all comes rushing toward him at once. His body absorbs all evidence that his aura had ever been there, seemingly unburdened by the mass of energy flooding into his very soul. All that’s left are eyes that glow a deep, blood red, power humming from within his skin as his gaze locks on the one who’s shown him the deepest form of disrespect today.

Jung can only stare, jaw slack and bottom lip trembling just slightly. The High Table had never seen this display of barely contained power. 

Not even from Yoongi’s father. 

“Last I checked, My Lord, Kim Taehyung was not registered as a citizen of the Nexus. You should be more careful with your words, and you should certainly take care not to overstep where you are not welcome.” 

Yoongi leans forward, planting his hands gingerly on the table. His eyes pass over the rest of the kings, bloody gaze shaking them to their core. He sees Kim brace himself for the eye contact ahead of time, and thinks to himself that it’s really a shame that they could probably never be friends. 

It’s fine. They were never the same anyway.

“The Court would do well not to interfere with my personal life in the future. My ability to rule my country and keep peace with the Five Nations is mine and mine alone. A wife will not change this, and an heir will come when I decide to produce one. Until that day comes, I won’t hear of this conversation again.”

He rises, turning his back and heading for the door, but not before pausing for one last comment, his eyes dark and black once more as they make contact one by one with each of the remaining four kings.

“The military draft was designed by the kings of Nations’ past with the purpose of training soldiers for combat by throwing them into the worst possible human condition. The fact that the soldiers who actually make it out of my training alive would be capable of defending each of your kingdoms against man and demon alike is knowledge that’s invaluable to you.”

He hones in now on Jung, the threat clear in his words.

“So I sincerely advise you to think hard before starting a war with me.” 

–

“You just love risking your life for a little drama, don’t you?”

Y/n jumps, turning over her shoulder in the direction of the voice. She normally would have noticed him coming down the corridor - his footsteps feel like second nature to her now - but she’d been too invested in what’s going on in the Meeting Room, just around the corner.

“You missed so much! Where have you been?” 

Hoseok sighs, shaking his head fondly at her.

“I was hoping you’d stay out of trouble, but obviously you still need my help with that.” 

She smiles, waving him toward her and returning to her place in the corridor. There’s a tingling in her fingers and toes, like they’re starting to go numb. It’s a familiar feeling, one that also sits deep in her stomach. It’s the only telltale sign she has to know that her Gift is activated.

That, and the fact that when she turns back to Hoseok, she can tell he hasn’t moved toward her. He hadn’t seen her beckon him to her, which means he can’t see her at all. Her Gift must be getting stronger if he’s starting to struggle seeing more than her presence sometimes.

“You plan on standing in the middle of the corridor like that until the Ruling Court meeting is over?” 

Hoseok starts at the mention of the seasonal gathering, moving toward her voice. When he bumps into her, he lowers himself to her height, peeking around the corner with her.

“You know I look really stupid like this, right? If we get caught, it’s going to look like I’m just sneaking around by myself when I don’t have to.” 

Y/n snorts under her breath as she tries to refocus her hearing toward the open doors of the Meeting Room.

“That makes one of us.” 

Hoseok winces, choosing to ignore the comment in favor of eavesdropping. 

“…ssing King Min’s marriage candidacy-”

“I beg your pardon?”

Both Y/n and Hoseok gasp and lean forward, not unlike a couple of gossiping schoolgirls.

“They want the Demon King to get married?!” Y/n manages to remember to whisper in her excitement, Hoseok letting out a breath of disbelief.

“May the Gods pity whatever poor girl has to marry that guy.”

Y/n turns to Hoseok’s voice, interest piqued.

“I mean, is he hot?” 

He shoots her an incredulous glance.

“The Court wants to force some random girl to marry the literal king of demons and produce an heir with him, and you want to know if he’s hot?” 

There’s a moment of silence, one where Y/n doesn’t say a word, and Hoseok has his answer. He sighs, nodding.

“… I’d say he’s an 8. Probably a 9 if he’d just learn to smile.” 

Y/n grins widely, pleased with his response.

“Then I’m sure he’ll have no problem… reproducing.” She snickers when Hoseok shoves her, a noise of disgust leaving him. 

He’s about to make a comment about how crude she is, but there’s a heavy slam of a hand on wood and the voice of Jung Yunho flowing out into the hall.

“I am tired of hearing your voice, you insolent child!” 

They both jump, all too familiar with their father’s temper. It fills them with equal amounts of anxiety, and all Hoseok can do is reach for his sister’s hand, squeezing hard when he finds it.

“I hope he’s not talking to the Demon King like that - that dude could probably rip Father apart if he wanted to.” Y/n pauses after saying that, letting the idea sink in. “Hm. Maybe that’s for the best.” 

Hoseok snorts, shaking his head at her commentary.

“Oh, how I wish that was a joke.” 

Y/n turns to Hoseok, asking the question that’s been on her mind for weeks now - months, if she’s honest.

“Are you still going to join the draft?”

He doesn’t respond, the sound of his breathing even as he considers her question. She continues, suddenly feeling more anxious than before.

“Once Father realizes you’ve left without telling him… You’ll never know peace in this castle when you return, Hobi-”

“You say that like I’ve ever known peace to begin with. That man’s wanted me dead since the moment we were born.” His voice is tense, like this has been sitting in his mind for as long as he can remember. “The only thing I’m worried about is you. I feel like I’m the only person keeping him from-”

“If he wants to kill me, he’ll have to find me first.” Y/n nudges him gently, hoping to make him laugh. “I’ve been told I’m good at hiding.” 

A bark of laughter leaves him, and he’s quick to cover his mouth with a hand. The sound warms her heart. She’s not sure what she’s going to do without him. She would never tell him, but once he’s gone… She’s not really sure what will happen to her-

The double doors to the Meeting Room slam shut suddenly, the force of it so intense that a gust of wind is sent down both ends of the corridor. Y/n can’t help the scream that leaves her, the tingling feeling leaving her body as her control over her Gift comes crashing down, leaving her visible and vulnerable. 

Hoseok’s quick to rip his cloak off his shoulders and throw it over her, acting fast despite feeling just as startled. The feeling of warm fabric covering her head and obscuring her face brings Y/n to the realization that Hoseok can see her again, and she’s fast to fix it. 

Willing her body to hide her from the world, she feels those pins and needles poking at her fingertips, spreading quickly to the rest of her body and swirling calmly in her tummy. When Hoseok slides the cloak off of her, she knows she’s safe. 

“You need to get better reaction control over that - if someone sees you-”

“I know what will happen if someone sees me, Hobi - You tell me every day.”

Hoseok flinches at the hissed response, forcing himself not to overthink it. She’s not upset with him, she’s upset with the situation and frustrated that she got flustered and let her Gift come down-

At least, that’s what he’s been telling himself to avoid the guilt that gnaws at him every night. It’s gotten him this far.

After a moment of deep breaths, Y/n reaches for Hoseok, curling her fingers around his sleeve when she finds it, her small tug full of apology. He feels strangely comforted by the knowledge that they both think about their situation more than they’d ever admit.

“Let’s just go see what’s going on - I can’t hear through those doors.” 

Hoseok hums in agreement, letting her lead him around the corner and toward the Meeting Room. 

The corridor unfolds in front of her in billowing clouds, wisps of architecture coming to her senses until she can make out where everything is. Her map of a space isn’t always correct, but she’s lived in and snuck around these halls long enough to generally know who or what might be in her path. There’s no one here but them.

Hoseok’s noticing the same. There would normally be guards stationed out here, but they must have reacted to something going on inside, because he can feel that the two men are standing just past the entryway.

He and Y/n stand at the doors, ears close to the wood in order to hear past it. There’s a muffled voice traveling through large keyhole, and Y/n crouches to press her ear to it.

“…ning alive would be capable of defending each of your kingdoms against man and demon alike is invaluable to you.”

Y/n waves a hand behind her until she catches Hoseok’s leg, never moving from her place. He grumbles at the contact.

“You don’t have to smack me, I can hear them, too.”

“…think hard before starting a war with me.” 

Y/n gasps, smacking Hoseok’s leg several more times. He simply lets it happen.

“Father’s threatening to start a war! With the Demon King!”

For a moment, Hoseok wonders if they really both are 24 years old, or if maybe he’s actually the older brother. Unfortunately, all he can boast about is a few measly minutes of authority over her-

There’s a harsh tug in the back of his brain, one that pulls his attention into the room and zeroes in on two pairs of shoes heading quietly toward the door.

He hisses under his breath, reaching down and grabbing Y/n by the shoulders. She makes a noise of discontent, but he’s already yanking her to her feet and pushing her forward and away from the door. She stumbles over to the wall and shrinks into the shadows there.

“Someone’s coming-”

The doors are pulled open by each of the guards, just in time for Hoseok to spin around and step away from the wall, fully aware that he needs to look like he hasn’t been hovering outside this whole time.

Min Yoongi is stepping out of the room and heading down the corridor, shoulders tense as a hooded man follows behind, whispering quietly to him. Hoseok watches as the king only shakes his head once, muttering “Your mouth is going to get you killed one day-”

And then the cloaked man is glancing over his shoulder, alerted to the fact that they’re not alone. Hoseok has no idea how he could have been noticed when he hasn’t made a sound.

The man stops short, turning fully toward Hoseok and lowering his hood. Hoseok sees then that he’s faced with Kim Taehyung, the king’s Royal Advisor. 

Somehow, he’d have preferred meeting the eyes of the Demon King himself.

“Prince Jung, what a lovely surprise.”

Taehyung bows low, lowering his gaze in respect. Yoongi turns at the realization that Tae’s no longer behind him, and he sees that Jung’s only son is standing before him - the heir to the Nexus.

Yoongi steps up just as Tae is lifting from his bow.

“Prince Jung. I believe we’ve only met in passing.”

Hoseok feels the king’s gaze pierce right to his soul, a strand of fear running deep down his spine. It’s not the same kind of anxiety he feels around his father, but the blood red rubies embedded in the Demon King’s crown are reminding him of his own mortality in ways his father never has.

He bends at the waist, setting a foot behind him and a hand on his chest as he bows deeply, years of training in royal manners kickstarting to get him through this conversation. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Y/n curtsying low as well, and he thinks briefly that maybe she doesn’t remember that she’s invisible. 

But he would never say it to her - he would never take this moment of normalcy away from her. One where everyone knows who she is. 

Princess Jung Y/n, the Second Heir to the Nexus.

“My Lord. It’s an honor to officially make your acquaintance.” Hoseok stands tall as he addresses the king, eyes nervous but unwavering from the shorter man. He refuses to crack, even with wisps of demon energy floating around the stone floor, searching for something - someone - to latch onto.

Yoongi’s impressed by the show of bravery.

“You’ll have to forgive me, my Lord-” Taehyung cuts easily through the tension, a charming smile tugging at his lips. His gaze is warm and light, running over the prince’s features kindly. 

Hoseok has never felt more unsafe.

“- It seems I’ve put your father in a rather… sour mood. Hopefully, I haven’t ruined the day yet.”

Hoseok feels the smile stretch over his lips, polite but ingenuine.

“Oh, that yelling I heard on my way over? It’s of no concern, Sir Kim. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Friday morning.”

Taehyung’s left eyebrow quirks with interest, and Hoseok has to force himself to remain neutral. How the hell had this guy managed to pull a joke like that out of him?

Swallowing hard, Hoseok cuts his gaze back to the King, an otherwise silent observer of their interaction. But he finds that Yoongi’s not paying attention to their painfully awkward encounter.

His gaze is hardened with caution, eyes trained on a spot just over Hoseok’s shoulder.

It happens to be the same spot where Hoseok knows Y/n is standing, the warmth of her presence pressing into his back like a reminder of what he’d be leaving behind soon enough.

His heart thumps hard in his chest at the thought that Yoongi can see her, that lingering strand of fear tightening in a coil around his spine. He watches with growing horror as his own quickening pulse draws Yoongi’s attention back to him, the Demon King’s eyes flitting to the spot over Hoseok’s heart before moving up to meet his terrified gaze.

Yoongi’s expression evens out when he sees how he’s affecting the Crown Prince. He thought he’d seen a glimpse of something different about Jung Hoseok, something of interest. But he can see now that the prince is no different from anyone else.

Disappointing, to say the least.

“It was nice to officially meet you, Prince Jung. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other sometime in the future.” Yoongi doesn’t even bother with a goodbye, turning on his heel and starting back toward the room he and Taehyung had been assigned for their stay. He can hear his advisor making pleasantries before taking his own leave.

“What an honor to see you again, my Lord. The East looks forward to your arrival next week.”

Yoongi stops short at the end of the corridor, just as Taehyung’s quiet footsteps pick up their pace in his direction.

What the hell did he just say?

–

“Y/n, please promise me that you will stay out of trouble while I’m gone. Please.”

Y/n can feel her brother’s hands trembling against her skin as he grips her shoulders. She can’t tell if he’s more scared for her or for himself. She supposes it’s all the same.

“I promise, Hoseok. You won’t have to worry about me here, I swear it.” And she does, she does swear it. Because she doesn’t plan on staying here at all.

After eavesdropping on the council meeting two days ago, she’d been thinking quite hard about what she and her brother had discovered. That her father is threatening war if the Demon King doesn’t find a wife soon.

Maybe it’s not her best idea. But that’s exactly why she hasn’t said a word to Hoseok. He would have no qualms about tying her to the desk chair in her room if he knew what she was planning.

Hoseok breathes out a deep sigh, staring out the window in her room at the moon hanging low over them. There’s so much racing through his mind right now. How will his father react when he realizes Hoseok is gone? Will he send a troop for him, a public display of concern for his son? Or will it be a single assassin, the chance to finally dispose of his only son so tempting? Will he take it out on Y/n, like he’s done so often in the past? Should Hoseok even go anymore?

He has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. But if joining the draft is the best way to guarantee he’d even survive another two years, and that he’d return to the Nexus with the battle training to finally take down his father… How could he pass up the opportunity?

Hoseok’s eyes trace out his sister’s features once more, the thought that he’d never see her again plaguing every drop of hope in his body right now. He feels like he needs to burn her into his memory… just in case-

“Hobi…” 

His attention snaps to her eyes, unseeing yet so aware of him. So aware of every thought that crosses his mind, every feeling that fills his blood.

“Do you trust me?”

Hoseok flinches at the question - of course he trusts her. She’s the only person in the whole world that he trusts. But she’s not really asking if he can confide in her.

She’s asking if he believes in her.

If he’s honest… he’s never given either of them the chance to find out the answer to that question. He’d spent his whole life at her side, keeping her safe. This is the first time they’d ever be apart.

He hates himself for sheltering her like that. Hates that he’d never let him himself just trust her.

Hates that this is all coming into the light now, when they’re about to say goodbye for the first time in their lives. When they might never see each other again.

So he draws up every ounce of courage that he has - even more than it had taken for him to pick up a pen and sign his life away on that stupid Draft form - and breathes as much of the truth as he can into his response. Because he’s never been able to lie to her, and he’s not about to start now.

“I trust you.”

–

Y/n listens to Hoseok’s fading footsteps, maps them onto the image that she’s created of the corridor in front of her room. In this secluded corner of the palace, there’s no concern that anyone would catch them together. No one had ever bothered to come near her room, save for the servant designated to bring her meals.

She can see in those quiet footsteps that Hoseok is sticking to the shadows, a fugitive in his own home. He’ll escape from the castle walls, just before 4am, and join the draft’s traveling party as it’s preparing to leave. And then he’ll be free.

She doesn’t blame him - she could never blame him. Not when he scolds her for slipping out of her room, against their father’s direct orders. Not when he has to pretend she doesn’t exist in front of others, even when she’s hovering invisibly at his side. 

Not when he’d hesitated just a moment ago to tell her he trusted her, because they both know that he’d been trying to convince himself that he does.

They’d both been dealt the shittiest of hands in life, and they were both trying to make the best of it. If the best of it is the simple goal of staying alive despite their father’s every intention, then so be it. If Hoseok needed to flee his own kingdom by moonlight in order to give himself a chance at that goal, then so be it.

But she’d be damned if the next he hears of her is through raven-sent news of her untimely death. He’s going to be impossibly angry with her when he discovers her plan - he might never forgive her. But once their father realizes he’s missing - that he’s defected to the Draft - she’d be even more unsafe than she’d ever been. She’d been dead within the week.

That’s why she lets that familiar pins-and-needles feeling envelop her body, why she kicks her shoes off into her room and closes the door softly behind her, bare feet padding gently after her brother before she loses his footsteps. Why she stops short but never gives in to the guilt crushing her heart when Hoseok pauses just outside the castle walls and turns back, likely confused as to why he can still feel her presence all the way out here. Why she tightens her muscles and wills herself to fade from his radar, only releasing the breath caught in her throat when she hears him start up again, making his way into the forest and through the trees until he reaches the clearing not too far ahead.

She almost loses him at one point. She’d never been this far outside the walls, and she has no idea what the landscape around her should look like. She can only use his footsteps to guide her, the quiet pulses of his energy leaking into the earth and bouncing off of nearby trees, illuminating her path in a quickly fading record of her brother’s every move.

Then the treeline relents, and she’s soon surrounded by open nothingness. Hoseok’s footsteps bounce off of nothing here, swallowed by the grass and removing him from her senses faster than she’s ready for. It’s only the distant chatter and shifting in front of her that tells her she’s made it to the clearing.

There are men loading resources and bags into a wagon, if she’s making the bulky shape out in front of her correctly. The echoes of the voices in the air bounce off of the white, tarped carriage, enough that she’s able to make its structure out with a decent degree of accuracy. 

Now to figure out where to hide for the journey to the East… 

She loses Hoseok, his voice melting into others around him as he joins the party. She takes a hesitant step forward, hears the horse driver calling out to the group that they’d better settle into the wagon in the next few moments, or he’d leave them behind. 

How is she supposed to go unnoticed in a wagon full of people?

Thinking quickly, she makes a wide arc around the wagon, ears ringing as she listens for any movement in her immediate area. She counts the sets of feet climbing into the carriage as she moves quietly to the front.

10… 11… 12… and the driver-

The man is approaching the open front of the wagon on the other side, so she scuttles toward the passenger seat, satisfied that the drafted men are all seated in the back. She can even hear some of them awkwardly addressing her brother, can hear Hoseok laughing uncomfortably as he tells them to just treat him like any other man, that they’ll be together for 2 years and he has no interest in being treated like a prince.

She has to time this correctly - the wagon seems rickety, like any movement would be impossible not to notice. Her hands and feet are in pain, the tingling of her Gift stinging her every move. But she can’t give up now - she’s so close.

When she hears the driver lift a foot off the grass - the most miniscule of sounds under the deep chatter happening in the back - she raises her own, mirroring the man’s every move down to the moment he lifts his weight off of the ground and throws it carelessly into his well-worn seat. If he notices the counterbalancing of her own weight on the other side, he doesn’t pay it a bit of attention.

She’d made it.

–

“You better fucking hope Jung’s spawn doesn’t cause trouble in the next two years.” Yoongi’s low growl sounds foreign even to himself - being angry with Taehyung is new for him.

But he can’t help it. All week he’d been on edge, snapping at his advisor over the smallest things. He knows that Taehyung hadn’t technically done anything wrong by not giving him the roster for this year’s Draft cohort. He’d never done it in the past, and things had gone fine.

This year is different, though. Ever since the assembly and Jung’s thinly veiled threats, Yoongi had tightened security on his own kingdom, done a personal evaluation of all staff within his walls, and -

“You know, taking your anger out on me every time we meet hasn’t made for very productive planning sessions.”

-apparently let his rage overwhelm him any time his objectively innocent advisor had stepped foot in his throne room.

“You didn’t tell me Jung Hoseok was part of the Draft. Don’t you think that information would have been important to know, even before that stupid fucking assembly meeting?”

He can see Tae shrug noncommittally beside him. 

“What I didn’t think was that you wouldn’t trust me to handle it, but I see we’re both learning new things about each other this week.”

Yoongi’s aura whips out angrily around him, coming dangerously close to his advisor’s face.

“Kim Taehyung, I swear to you-”

“Look alive, My Lord - they’re coming.”

Yoongi’s tempted to let his aura make contact this time, but he tucks Taehyung’s attitude into the back of his mind for later. He may not be the most pleasant of kings to pass through the Five Nations, but he’s not cruel, and he’s not violent. He’s not his father.

There’s a familiar wagon passing through the gates now, unharmed by the forest on its journey. Every year, on this exact date, Yoongi sends only his best to keep the demons in the forest under control for the time it takes to drop off the Draft. There hadn’t been a single year since he’d taken the throne that a trainee had been harmed or killed before entering the gates of his kingdom. Not that the same could be said for his father’s reign.

“Let’s call it… their first test. If they can’t make it to the gates alive, they’re not even worth training.”

Yoongi shakes his head quickly, squashing the nightmare of that malicious grin. Taehyung shifts protectively beside him, anyway - of course he’d noticed. 

But although his advisor raises a hand, prepared to lay it on Yoongi’s shoulder and ease his king of his emotional burdens, Taehyung pauses. Lowers his arm. Stands tall and tucks his hands into his sleeves in front of him.

It almost makes Yoongi feel bad for building a wall between them this week.

Before he can think on it, though, Tae is nodding toward the wagon of trainees unloading their belongings to the cobblestone ground in the courtyard of the Eastern Seascapes. Yoongi watches them each turn slowly, taking in the castle in their own time. Watches their mixed expressions of fear and awe, none of them ever having glimpsed the palace lying deep in the forest and at the edge of the world. Watches as they each come to recognize the king and his advisor, statues waiting for them at the top of stairs.

One by one, they scramble forward toward Yoongi, stopping at the base of the steps and taking a knee, bowing to Yoongi almost obnoxiously. Taehyung mumbles in his ear the whole time, stating the names and families of each of these trainees. He stops talking when Jung Hoseok approaches and models after his new brothers-in-arms. There’s no introduction necessary for the son of Yoongi’s enemy.

After a nod of thanks toward the wagon driver - an older gentleman who’d seen far too much of Yoongi’s father’s “first test” and who is apparently therefore a big fan of Yoongi’s more humane approaches - Yoongi steps forward and takes a breath.

“Welcome to the Eastern Seascapes, trainees. In case one of you somehow missed the shocking news that traveled the Five Nations after my father’s death some years ago, my name is Min Yoongi. I am the ruler of this land, keeper of the peace between demon and humankind, and - probably unfortunately, in your eyes - your ward for the next 24 months. Congratulations.”

He watches as the 12 men in front of him shift uncomfortably below him, unsure what they should have expected from the Demon King. Most likely, it wasn’t the dry, detached man addressing them.

“Even more unfortunately for you, you won’t be dealing with me on a regular basis apart from tonight’s banquet. You will be seeing much more of my advisor here, and, even more than that - your General.”

The man in question materializes at Yoongi’s left side as if from nothingness. If he hadn’t known any better, Yoongi might have thought his Five-Star General was of demon blood. Somehow, it’s more disconcerting that he’s entirely human.

Normally, he’d feel a streak of pride course through him at the way his General had transformed into nothing short of a nightmare in just under 5 years, but he’s not really in the mood for Jungkook’s theatrics today.

The younger man descends the steps silently as the 12 men clamber to their feet in slight panic. He stands before the first trainee for just long enough that the newbie shrinks under his gaze. Jungkook moves quietly, his face never changing.

When he arrives at the end of the line, he stops, staring into the eyes of Jung Hoseok. The man, a few years his senior - as most of these men are - is just an inch or two shorter than him, but the Prince seems determined not to let the difference push him into submission. Hoseok stands tall, unwavering as he faces the Demon King’s General. 

He’d endured 24 years of fear and anxiety. No one would ever bully him again. Especially not some brat who’s got a couple centimeters on him.

Jungkook sees it in his eyes - that resistance - and can’t help the twitch of a grin pulling at his lips.

This should be fun.

Before he can open his mouth and address them, though, his king’s voice is cutting through the cold morning air.

“Where’s the thirteenth trainee?”

Jungkook frowns, turning back to face Yoongi. Taehyung’s expression is no different, confused by the man’s question. But Yoongi’s not paying attention to either of them, his eyes raking in irritation over the 12 trainees. There’s a dangerous glint in his glare that sends a shiver down their spines.

“I was told there were only 12.” His voice is terse, and he looks at Taehyung for explanation, his annoyance growing when he sees that Tae has no clue what he’s talking about.

“There are only 12, My Lo-”

“Shut up.” 

Both Tae and Jungkook blink in surprise - Yoongi’s never like this, regardless of his dour disposition this week. 

The king’s head only tilts in the direction of the wagon, like he’s catching the sound of something over the thundering heartbeats of the trainees below him.

He moves silently down the steps, and Jungkook doesn’t even bother to snap at his new soldiers to stand tall as they literally trip over their own feet to get out of Yoongi’s way. 

Yoongi stalks toward the wagon, catching the flash of fear in the driver’s eyes and waving him off with a furrow of his brow. There goes that previously built trust. 

But it doesn’t matter. He can feel someone else here. It’s the same feeling he’d had just last week after the assembly, when he and Tae had been talking to Jung Hoseok. 

The feeling that there’s someone hiding away, desperate not to be caught-

There. 

He makes his way around the front of the carriage, ignoring the fearful whinny of the horses when they spot him, and stops in his tracks.

He can see it. That glimmer of energy, shifting in the air, so unnoticeable to anyone who isn’t looking. The longer he looks, the more the energy takes shape, forming into a girl he’d only seen once before.

The girl that had been hovering over Hoseok’s shoulder that day.

With a twitch of an eyebrow, Yoongi wills his aura to sink beneath his feet, muffling his footsteps into nothingness. The moment it does, the girl stands tall, tilting her head in his direction and turning when she can’t find him.

He approaches her like that, watching her turn in her spot, her movements becoming restless and fearful, like she’d lost track of him and couldn’t place him anymore. She even looks right at him, but she doesn’t pause, only turning away so she can inch forward toward the back of the wagon. 

The moment she starts to pass the barrier of the white tarp into the open courtyard, Yoongi’s aura is lashing out, one dark tendril wrapping around her ankle. 

The girl screams as she falls, her voice piercing the tense silence beyond the carriage and sending the men into a frenzy. But Yoongi doesn’t mind them, his eyes never leaving her.

Another arm of darkness snaps out toward her, wrapping tightly around her mouth as the original snakes its way up her body, constricting her in its grasp until she’d bound with no escape.

Her cloak - whatever it is - comes down then in her panic, and she’s fully visible to Yoongi for the first time. Her eyes are wide, full of terror, and she’s grasping desperately at the tentacle of his aura that’s all but gagging her. Yoongi doesn’t even bother to think about the fact that she still hasn’t looked at him, fixating on her features and noting with growing rage that she looks a lot like Jung Yunho’s only child.

What the fuck?

Yoongi draws the girl up off the ground and toward him, and, in his rage, throws her back against the tarp of the wagon. She lets out another muffled shriek, Yoongi’s voice cutting hers short.

“Who are you?! Who sent you?!”

She only shakes her head back and forth desperately, eyes screwed shut as she continues to scream. With a growl, he peels her away from the tarp and slams her back into it. There are tears streaming down her face now.

“I’m not going to ask you again-”

“My Lord.”

Taehyung is standing next to him now, having come around the back of the carriage to interfere in whatever’s happening. His voice is clipped, like he’s actually angry with Yoongi.

“True to my title, I’m going to have to advise you to put this poor woman down, unless you want your new subjects to form misinformed opinions about what kind of man you are.”

Yoongi only snaps his head over to his advisor, his glare burning that deep, blood red Taehyung’s grown used to seeing lately.

“I want you to look at this girl, Taehyung. Look at her, and tell me what you see.”

Only at the direct order does Taehyung sigh and tilt his gaze in the woman’s direction. He stares for a moment, taking in her tear-streaked face. And then he frowns, his brows coming together as he looks more closely at her. 

Taking just a step back so he can see into the courtyard full of terrified trainees, Tae meets the eyes of Jung Hoseok, whose gaze morphs from fear into alarm when he realizes he’s being studied.

Taehyung mumbles under his breath then, Yoongi barely catching the words.

“Well would you look at that… Twins.”

Ignoring Yoongi’s echoed “Twins?!” of shock, Tae knows Hoseok was able to read his lips all the way across the courtyard because the Prince’s eyes go wide with horror, the blood draining from his face. His crippling fear crashes into Taehyung’s senses full force, the advisor stitching this new piece of information into the cloth that is the Jung family. 

He only squints at the man in response, whispering a single word to Yoongi that’s really meant for Hoseok.

“Twins.”

Tae watches Hoseok carefully as Yoongi steps out from behind the carriage, the aura-bound prisoner floating in the air behind the king as he starts his rampage back to the castle. He’s wholly unsurprised when Hoseok lurches forward at the sight of the girl, a scream ripping from his throat.

“No!” 

Hoseok pushes past the other trainees and starts to charge the king, but he’s quickly overtaken by Jungkook, who throws himself forward and pins him easily to the ground, yanking the Prince’s arms back behind his back. It doesn’t stop Hoseok from screaming with all of his might, his throat aching at the force.

“Y/n! You promised me! You promised me you would be safe-”

The other trainees all start whispering to each other, staring at the girl as she’s carried, sobbing and struggling against the tendrils of darkness, past her brother. Yoongi only pauses over Hoseok’s detained form for a brief moment, not even sparing the crazed man a glance as he speaks.

“Welcome to the Eastern Seascapes, Prince Jung. I’ll see to it that your sister is well cared for.”

Hoseok can only watch, horrified, as the Demon King carries his entire life through the massive double doors and into the castle.

I’m never going to see her again.

[riphobisbraces]

The Lucky Seven | BTS ot7 x reader

Hybrid/Royal AU

~ chapter 3 + lore ~

[word count: 3650+]

❀ genre: dark royal core, hybrid au, royalty au, hybrids/knights!ot7 x human/ princess!reader, afab (she/her) reader, polyamory (mostly ot7 × reader), strangers to lovers, daddy dom, smut and sexual sometimes. tiny bits of horror

❀ warnings: smut, swearing, murder, death (not the reader or ot7 though, l'm not evil), mentions of inbreeding (not between reader or ot7) some unsettling horror depictions, it won't be every chapter though or the whole story, just little bits here and there. (I'm willing to re write chapters for you to read if you can't do horror but still wanna follow along, just ask! 🖤 )

——— summary ———

In a world of hybrids and humans, following each other closely to extinction, you are one of the last full humans, Princess y/l/n of the emerald nation. humans are essential for the survival of hybrids so why are assailants hunting you and your family down? because of this, the court has decided it’d be best for you to be guarded at all times by the nations strongest knights, you’ve only ever heard of them but have never seen their faces. What will happen once you come face to face with the infamous “lucky seven”?

[ chapter 3 + lore ]

You swallowed loudly, Namjoon’s words ringing through your head. Stood before you were seven knights, as attractive as they were intimidating. They were clad in dark iron armour, long swords strapped to their sides.

“Princess, I introduce to you, the lucky seven.” Your father promptly stated, therefore queuing the men to kneel before you. “Your highness” they all spoke in unison whilst looking down in respect. This made your heart slightly jump at the sudden submission from the domineering looking men.

Standing up, the men turned their sight to your father as he continued “the lucky seven are our nation's most powerful and capable knights. They are of full hybrid, all seven being a pack.” Taking in your father's words, their pack name finally rang a bell. You’ve heard of them before. You’ve heard from whispers of servants that the pack is strong enough to take out dozens of assailants at once.

You had no idea that the two men that had saved you the night before were part of the infamous pack. With Namjoon’s kind and gentle smile you could have never imagined that he was apart of such a daunting pack. “Now. These men are to guard you in and out the palace at all times. You are required to have at least three knights by your side in the palace, all seven if you wish you leave the palace.” Your father ordered.

“Sir Kim Seokjin” he called. The man from the far left stepping forward, “My lord” he replied. “This here, is Sir Kim Seokjin, the pack’s oldest. He is a hamster hybrid.” your father declared gesturing to the man.

A hamster? He was tall and had broad shoulders, contrasting a small waist. You would’ve never guess that the tall and muscular looking man was a hamster hybrid. He was staring forward, head held up high.

Examining his face, you took note of his lips immediately. They were strikingly plump and glossy. Making your way up his face, his eyes were the colour of chocolate, the same as his hair. You found yourself in awe of the man’s attractiveness, you’ve never seen anyone so radiant, other than the two hybrids you had just met last night of course.

Without warning, the man’s glance turned from your father to you. Startled, you glanced away, embarrassed. Looking down, you closed your hands together and started to fidget with your thumbs. The man smiled at this. ‘how cute’ he thought to himself before turning his glance to your father once again.

“Sir Min Yoongi” your father called, saving you from your embarrassment. “My lord” answered the man, stepping forward. You looked back up to see the knight.

This man was shorter than the others, almost petite, with long black hair swept over the top of his head. He was just as ravishing as the hybrid before him, feline-like eyes and a downturned mouth. His jawline was less sharp than the others, giving him a soft look.

“Sir Min Yoongi here, is the second oldest of the pack. He is a cat-hybrid” your father spoke. ‘Of course’ you thought to yourself, even in his human forum he resembles a feline. You nodded to your father to continue.

“and I’m sure you’ve already been acquainted with Sir Kim Namjoon and Sir Jung Hoseok.” the two stepped forward, “my lord” they replied in unison before both turned their sights to you, making you unconsciously clear your throat. “Sir Kim Namjoon is the third oldest of the seven, a wolf hybrid as you may already be aware of. He is the pack’s leader.” stated your father, looking to Namjoon causing the knight to smile proudly, dimples displayed while straightening his posture somehow even more so.

Your fathers eyes then moved to whom you knew as Hobi. “And Sir Jung Hoseok is the pack’s fourth oldest. A dog-hybrid, specifically of the golden retriever species” your father gestured to the man. So he’s a golden retriever? You can’t help but smile at the thought, it suits him. His smile was wide and bright, truly like a golden retriever.

“And now I want to introduce the pack’s three youngest” decreed your father, resulting in the last of the three to step forward “my lord” they replied in unison, just like Hobi and Namjoon did. “Starting from the left, this is Sir Park Jimin, the third youngest. His hybrid animal is also a feline like Sir Min Yoongi” you turned your sight to aforementioned the man.

‘Woah’ you thought to yourself. He was a pretty man, face adorned with plump and pillowy lips like the hamster hybrid before him. His eyes were feline-like, almost seductive. The man was smaller than the others, a slim waist also like the hamster hybrid’s but you could tell that he had a strong figure.

“The middle knight is Sir Kim Taehyung, second youngest and a lion hybrid” your father motioned to the knight. This knight was equally as attractive as the rest of his pack, having an alluring look. The man having thick brows, making him look serious.

Upon further examination, you took note of his facial moles, one being above his lip and another on top of his nose. He also had both a monolid and a double lid. The knight had a structured face paired with a sculpted body, much like his other pack mates, only difference being his hands, as they were a bit larger than the others.

“And last but certainly not least, the pack’s youngest, Sir Jeon Jungkook, a bunny hybrid.” spoke your father. The last and youngest knight was ironically the second tallest of his pack. You could see that he was also most likely the most buff, coming to a close tie with Namjoon.

Contrasting his bulky frame, was an innocent appearing face. His eyes were wide, doe like, accompanied by lips with a sharp cupids bow. The combination was very charming. Enticed by the man before you, you also took notice of a little scar across his left cheek.

Your father cleared his throat, taking you out of your mesmerization “you are dismissed until dinner” he declared. You curtsied your father before turning to walk out the room. Followed behind you were multiple steps pattered against the floor, causing you to turn around, the steps to coming to a halt.

Behind you, stood the seven knights ready to escort you. “Oh, you meant starting now?” your voice rang through the courtroom.

-

The sounds of numerous footsteps clacked against the marble floor behind you as you made your way through the corridor back to your chamber. You couldn’t help but feel uneasy with the amount of eyes you felt on your back. The men were in a line, taking up the whole hallway while following closely behind you.

Each step you took, felt calculated, as if you would trip from the burning stares. You decide to stop, the footsteps behind you also stopping, mirroring yours. Acknowledging this, you started walking once again, footsteps following suit.

You stopped one more time, the steps halting once more. This is when you turned to face the men “can you guys at least walk beside or in front of me, you’re all making me very nervous.” you stated whilst rubbing your wrist. You were used of a servant or two following you around from time to time but certainly not 7 very attractive men.

“Why are you nervous? We’re your guards, we are supposed to protect you after all.” The knight named Jin spoke with a sly manner while moving to stand in front of you. The man bent down to match his height with yours, cocking his head with a smile. This made your stomach do all sorts of flips.

Startled, you took a step back and swallowed dryly. You weren’t used to such close eye contact, especially with a man who wasn’t your servant. You could feel the sweat beads quickly forming behind your neck when Namjoon stepped forward, wrapping his hand around Jin’s shoulder.

“Alright hyung, be mindful of the princess. Remember, she’s never been around anyone other than her parents and servants until the night before..” the wolf hybrid reminded the hamster hybrid. Jin clicked his tongue against his teeth “I guess you’re right…” he reluctantly admitted. “so? can you guys please walk in front of me….” you spoke quietly, causing the men to turn their attention back to you.

They could all feel their hearts warm at your timidness. Hoseok abruptly spoke up, stepping forward “Namjoon and I will walk beside you, the rest will walk behind you” he happily volunteered, much to the other hybrids chagrin. They wanted you walk beside you.

“okay.. thank you..” you breathed out. Namjoon and Hoseok walked up to your sides, the wolf-hybrid taking your left and the golden retriever-hybrid your right. The rest of the knights lined up behind you.

“better?” Asked Namjoon looking down at you. You looked up the at the wolf-hybrid, feeling a bit more comfortable than you did before. “Yes.” You replied and with that, you continued making your way to your room, the hybrid knights by your side and behind, following closely along.

-

As you finally made it to the oh so familiar tall white doors of your chamber, you couldn’t help but notice the gasps and whispers that came from your servants and maids as you were walking through the palace. Usually you’re kindly greeted and approached in the palace by your servants but with the intimidating looking pack that followed you, they all seemed to scatter away. It was as if they were avoiding you or more accurately, the pack.

This saddened you a bit as you already don’t have any friends. As pathetic as it may sound, your servants were the closest things you had to friends. Sighing, you were about to open your doors when you were cut off by a pair large arms.

“Please, allow us. Wait here.” Contended Hoseok. He turned the knobs, opening the doors as he and Namjoon stepped inside while the others waited outside with you. After the two deemed the room safe, they called out to their fellow pack members.

“it’s clear” signalling for you and the rest to walk in. ‘Is it going to be like this every single time I walk into a room?’ you questioned to yourself.

-

The sound of your clock filled the silent room, with the occasional turn of a book page from Namjoon who was reading by the seat near your windowsill. You were sitting in front of your vanity, braiding your hair while the men were scattered across your room. When your father said they were to be by your side at all times, you didn’t think he meant it literally.

Swinging your head back and groaning in frustration, you started to mentally berate yourself. If you hadn’t snuck out, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. 'You should’ve just stayed home' you thought to yourself.

Suddenly a light bulb went off in your head. Would the attack even still have happened if you weren’t there? How did the assailants even know that you were the princess? Was it the same way Hoseok did? Did they know you would be there that night? And if so, how?

Millions of questions ran rapid through your head. Your head started to feel heavy and sore. With sudden pangs of pain shooting through your mind, you decide to put your head down on your vanity, arms wrapped around underneath for cushion.

You shut your eyes and tried to do the same with your mind. You inhaled through your nose deeply before exhaling slowly through your mouth, as though if you controlled your breathing, your mind would soon follow suit. Much to your surprise, it did. Your mind slowly started to go blank, instead, focusing on the ticking of your room’s clock.

tick..tock..tick..tock..tick..tock.. you find yourself start to yawn as your body began to sunk even more into your vanity, relaxation running through your body. With the recent events that had transpired, you would think you wouldn’t be able to get a blink of sleep out of fear or paranoia.

Instead you felt safe. Knowing deep down, it is because of the hybrids that currently reside in your room. The ticking of your clock is getting quieter and quieter, before you succumb to your inevitable slumber.

-

It doesn’t take very long before the youngest hybrid notices that you had fallen asleep. Cautiously, he began walking towards your sleeping figure on the chair. You were facing down on your vanity table, head wrapped around with your arms.

Unexpectedly, you moved your arm to scratch your head, placing it back down away from your face. Jungkook slowly bent down and moved toward you to examine your face. Upon closer inspection, the hybrid noticed a little bit of drool on the corner of your mouth. This made him chuckle in endearment.

Slowly backing up, he cleared his throat “Guys? I think the princess has fallen asleep” he whispered with a smile. Quickly, the men turned from whatever they were doing and fixed their sights upon you. Their faces softening as they took in the sight before them.

Your hair was half braided, baby hairs sticking to your forehead from sweat. Mouth slightly parted as you breathed in and out. “She looks so… peaceful.” Jimin spoke. “You’re right” Taehyung agreed.

They all continued to stare at you in silence whilst you slept, only the clock ticking and your soft breaths filling the silent room. What after seemed like an eternity, Namjoon finally spoke up. “We should get the princess into her bed.” The men uttered courses of agreement before Jungkook quickly offered “I’ll do it!” while standing up.

Everyone nodded and made their ways back to their spots, secretly a bit jealous that they didn’t think of Jungkook’s offer first. Quietly, the youngest made his way to your sleeping body, carefully picking you up out of your seat as to not wake you. Lifting you up, he laid your head on his shoulder, causing you to unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, the action warming his heart.

He then wrapped your legs around his waist one by one. Cautiously, he started walking, making his way to your bed careful not to drop you. Slowly, he began to put you down on your bed but much to his surprise, you wouldn’t let go, your legs and arms still wrapped around his body.

“Um, Hyungs….” Jungkook quietly spoke. The rest of the pack turned their attention to their youngest, eyes widening at the sight. Jungkook wasn’t even holding onto you, yet, you were wrapped around him like a spider monkey.

“She won’t let me go…” Jungkook continued. The sight made them envy the youngest. Jin stood up “are you sure? try leaning down on the bed” ordered the hamster hybrid. Jungkook nodded and did what he was told.

You were still holding on tight but now you were whining. Your whines tugged at the men’s heart strings. “shit…” Namjoon said, holding his chin while thinking. “Well… just let her sleep on you.”

Jungkook’s heart raced. He swallowed dryly “ar-are you sure?” asked the youngest. “yes, I’m sure” affirmed the leader. Namjoon couldn’t lie, he was envious of the youngest but your safety and well being came first, that included your sleep. So alas, he would just have to deal with his jealousy.

Slightly shaking, Jungkook softly sat down on the bed before putting his legs up and laying down on his back with you still wrapped on him. ‘The princess of the emerald nation is wrapped around me’ he thought. Looking straight up to the ceiling, he was nervous.

He didn’t want to make any wrong move so he just laid there, stiff, not even breathing. Suddenly you yawned and your grip on him became even tighter. This turned his gaze to you. You looked so comfortable. This subconsciously made him follow suit, his body relaxing at the sight and finally breathing.

Once he inhaled, he caught your scent. You smelt of vanilla and shea butter, causing him to decompress even more. He looked over your face and noticed your baby hairs, still stuck to your forehead. Slowly, he raised his hand toward your head, lightly moving them to the side. This made you sigh in content, the sound making the hybrid’s cheeks heat up.

'You were really cute' he thought to himself. The hybrid laid his head back down, closing his eyes. Your scent, the sound of your breaths and the weight of your body, all combining together to create a deadly melatonin for the bunny-hybrid. He soon followed suit you, falling into a slumber.

-

Night time quickly fell. The hybrids stared at Jungkook and you, begrudgingly. You were for sure going to be scented by the bunny hybrid by the time you woke up, and they all each wanted to be the first one to do so. You looked like a little pup compared to Jungkook’s large frame.

Although envious, they enjoyed the sight in front of them, their pack mate and their princess looking so comfy sleeping together. A knock brought them to their senses followed by a door creak. “Your highness?” spoke a servant.

They all immediately shushed the servant, startling him and almost causing him to jump. Looking around, he noticed that they were all sat around your bed, you still being wrapped around Jungkook. The servant nervously cleared his throat “apologies but uhhh, is princess y/l/n going to make it to dinner?” He questioned in a hushed voice.

“I don’t think so” answered Jin while turning to look at your sleeping figure on Jungkook, in a complete dead sleep. “okay well just so you’re aware, only three of you need to be here over-night so if the four of you wanna go back to your den then you ca-“ “no.” Namjoon abruptly cut the servant off. “we’re okay here.” The wolf hybrid affirmed, looking back to you.

“thank you, that will be all” finished the leader, turning back to give the servant a courteous, but fake, smile. “oh okay. I’ll be off then.” replied the servant before he made his exit, the sound of the doors shutting gently behind him. “So how are we gonna do this?” Asked Hobi.

“I guess the two of us can try and fit on the bed with Jungkook and y/n while the others can sleep on the floor” answered Namjoon. Jimin immediately stood up “I am not sleeping on the floor” making his way to the bed, laying down beside jungkook and you.

Jimin stretched his arms and yawned. “So who’s sleeping with us? There’s one more spot” questioned the feline. Suddenly a body jumped onto the edge of the bed, causing it to slightly shake. The pack members angrily shushed in unison. “sorry, I couldn’t help it” Hobi smiled, making himself comfortable on the bed. Namjoon sighed “I guess it’s you guys and I on the floor tonight, huh?” he concluded to Jin, Yoongi and Taehyung, nudging the youngest one.

“aishhhh.” Yoongi exclaimed while throwing his head back. “alright whatever” the lion-hybrid defeatedly said throwing his hands up before he started to make his way to what he assumed was your closet, looking for any sort of extra blankets. Taehyung wanted to sleep with you but he guesses that his three pack members will do for tonight.

-

-

[ LORE ]

Hybrids:

Hybrids are a humanoid species who can shape shift. They require the blood of humans in order to survive. Without it, they can lose the ability to shape shift back into humans. If hybrids stay in their animal form for too long, they can lose their humanity and minds before ultimately, dying as a rabid animals. Not all animals in this world are rabid, just hybrids who lose their humanity. This becomes a problem as humans become more scarce and classism rises in the nations. Needing twice as much as blood from a half human then you would a full human. Poor or small hybrid villages are often overlooked, deemed unfit for survival.

Humans:

Humans. What can we say about humans.. except everything. They are seen as gods, saviours, supreme beings and everything in between. Their yearly blood sacrifices that nourished their hybrid minds and bodies were seen as the most noble act. For this, they were and are forever in their debts. Human blood wasn’t seen as something to have to regulate or worry about since there were so many humans. Before the disaster that is. There was a huge unknown catastrophe hundreds of years ago that wiped out only and nearly all humans. Since then, humans and their blood have been regulated, only the richest villages in the nations being sub-stained while others, perished, turning into rabid animals forever before finally succumbing and dying. The fall of a hybrid village is something no one should ever witness. The scent of a human can also help a hybrid thrive and become stronger, kind of like a boost.

Emerald nation:

This nation was formed hundreds of years ago along with dozens of other nations following the catastrophic disaster that took almost all humans. The fateful surviving human families of that day were sent over all the nations, one family for each one. Over the years the nations capital villages that the human families resided in soon turned into kingdoms, the families also turning into what we know as royal. The humans served and provided for their respective kingdoms alongside hybrids alike. The humans also courted fellow humans from other nations royal families to keep the human blood line going but as time went on, there were no more other humans to court. This caused a proposal, a proposal for selected hybrids to court and mate with royal family members. This went on for years, resulting in half hybrids and quarter hybrids before only one full blooded human family remained. Your family.

a/n; hello again everyone! it’s currently almost 7am where I live. I stayed up to finish and proof read the chapter and I’m soooo tired but I really wanted to finish and share with you guys :)) anyways I’m gonna try and sleep for a bit. I’ll start a bit of chapter four tomorrow but I’ll be sure to have it finished and posted by Wednesday night or Thursday morning (my time zone is EDT) thank you for reading! 🥰

[tag list🖤🖤🖤: @strxwbloody @exfolitae @thebisexualonesworld @skyys-universe ]

*tag list is open, just ask 🖤*

previous chapter:

[bangtanoneshotsx]

The Duke - Suga (Bridgerton Au)

Your hair was in a low bun, two strands falling curled, framing you face. Your mother had made the modiste design and construct you finest design for the first ball of the season. The light blue chiffon dress cascaded down you, the shoulders puffy, sparkles were scattered around the dress. The ballroom was large, chandeliers hanging from the cream ceiling. Your mother was standing just behind you, you older brother holding onto your arm. 

“Well,” You brother spoke. “Are you going to dance?” 

“Dance with whom?” You spoke softly, butterflies still dancing around your stomach. It had only been a matter of hours since you had been presented to the queen. Only a couple hours since you first step into society. You brother pushing you to dance was almost laughable, it had only been mere seconds since you first stepped into the ballroom, you dance card still absent of names. 

“Anyone little sister. Take your pick.” You gave a soft sigh, the fabric of you dress suddenly feeling too tight. Dozens of eligible bachelors filled the ballroom, but most had a lady on his arm, trying to appease their parents. There was however, one that stood near the back wall. Although he was slightly hidden by the large bouquet of flowers dressing each table, he still stood out. He wore almost black, except for the extravagant navy blue shirt under his coat,  You brother seemed to notice you interested. 

“The Duke?” He questioned, an eyebrow raised, doubt in his eyes. “He’s not known to be a talker.” 

“Perfect.” With a smile to your brother and mother you headed in the direction of the lone man. 

“I understand that a lady is not suppose to ask a man for his hand to dance, so will you ask for mine?” The man’s eyebrows shot up, his eyes wide at your blunt question. 

“Should I not offer you a glass of lemonade first?”

“I fear that if I don’t walk onto the dance floor soon, my brother will push me on it himself.” The man chuckled, looking in your brother’s direction.

“Seokjin is demanding isn’t he?” 

“You know of my brother?” You asked, surprise evident in you voice.

“We are best friends. Though I am not surprised you did not know. Your brother likes to keep you separate from the rest of us.” 

“Rest of you?”

“His friends. Where do you think he disappears to almost every night?”

“Mother thinks he has a lover.” 

“He does.” The duke confirmed, nodding his head. You gasped, a twinkle in you eye as You discovered your brother’s secret.

“What is she like?” 

“He is one of the most clever men of the ton. He studies at the university. Your brother seems to like him a lot.” You hummed, you eyes darting over to you mama and brother. 

“So, are you going to ask me for a dance?” A lazy grin appeared on the duke’s face. Bowing slightly, he offered his right hand. Delicately You placed you hand in his, allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor. You could see you mama almost sigh in relief, compared to you brother who’s body seemed to tighten. 

“I do not think your brother likes me dancing with you.” The duke spoke, his voice quiet, the words tickling your ear, though he did not dare touch. 

“He did want me dancing with someone. He did not say who.” You took a moment to look down, watching your feet. “What is your name? My brother only called you ‘the Duke.’” The man gave a smile, releasing his hand away from your waist to twirl you around. 

“Yoongi.” He spoke, his hand back on your waist.

“Nice to meet you Yoongi.” Yoongi gave a nod as the violins slowed to a stop for a brief second before picking back up to another tune. Stepping back, you gave a small curtsey, watching as he bowed. 

“I better find my brother.” 

“Please tell him I’m way too busy for any duels.” Yoongi joked before disappearing into the crowd. 

“What were you doing dancing with the Duke?”

“You told me to dance with someone brother. Yoongi was pleasant.”

“Yoongi?” Seokjin scoffed. “Sister you do not know him that well to call him that.” 

“Tell me about him then. What is the duke like?” 

Seokjin sighed, grabbing your wrist, dragging you out into the garden. 

You stood just at the bottom of the steps into the garden, you could hear the soft sound of a nearby fountain just over the music coming from the ball. Cherry blossom trees surrounded the cobbled path leading further into the grounds. You could only go so far though, before anyone found it strange you had disappeared after your dance with the Duke. 

“Tell me about the Duke brother.” Seokjin sighed. 

“Yoongi is complicated. He can be quite shy, but he’s really a true romantic at heart. He loves the piano, he owns too many to count. He has stayed single ever since he entered society. By choice might I add.”

“Why?” 

“It’s a question for the man himself.” Seokjin sighed. He paused, scanning your face. “Why are you so curious about the Duke little sister?” 

“He’s interesting brother. Can’t it be just that?”

“Not with you it can’t. Please do not tell me you are looking for something further with him.” 

“I have just met the man tonight.” 

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up little sister. He’s never considered a lady. Not even the diamond of the first water.” 

“Are they friends?”

“Who?”

“Your lover and the Duke.” Seokjin’s eyebrows shot up as he stumbled backwards. 

“Yoongi.” He muttered, running a hand over his face. 

“Goodnight brother.” You gave a curtsey, heading back into the ballroom to find your mama. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your brother isn’t speaking to me.” Yoongi chuckled, dodging a small child running down the path between you, heading straight to the lake where the ducks waited. Despite Seokjin’s warning, Yoongi had appeared at your home the next day, a bouquet of flowers in hand as he asked your permission to court you. Today, he had appeared again, asking if you had some time to promenade around the park. Your mother and brother were a couple steps behind you. You couldn’t be seen alone with Yoongi just yet.

“Nor is he talking to me.” You sighed, looking back to your scowling brother, your mother blissfully unaware, her arm around his. “He does not think you are serious about me.” 

“Why does he think that?” 

“In the three years since you have entered society, he says no one has caught your eye.” 

“Has he ever considered that is because someone had already stolen my heart? Someone that had not yet entered society.”

“Who?” Yoongi rose a pointed eyebrow at you.

“Oh.” You whispered in realisation. “But how?”

“You may not have known of me, but I certainly knew of you.” Yoongi gave a chuckle. “Seokjin did not keep you as hidden as he would have liked.” With the Duke only three years older than you, you should have remembered meeting him, yet you had no memories of the older man. 

“What do you mean keep me hidden?” 

“He did not want you to have to deal with the pressures of society. He wanted to keep you unseen.” You couldn’t help the anger built up inside you. What was Seokjin thinking keeping you away, hidden from his friends but then thrusting you out into society? How could he keep you hidden without even telling you? How did you not realise?

“I’m sorry, I would rather if we could cut this promenade short.” Yoongi nodded, his mouth in a thin line.

“Of course, I apologise if I offended you.”

“You didn’t. But my brother certainly did.” With one last curtsey and a wish to see him again, you walked back to your mother and brother, ignoring the latter as you asked your mother to return home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“What were you thinking?” You shouted. You had pulled your brother into your home’s library, your mother out for afternoon tea with the neighbour.

“I do not know what you are talking about sister.” 

“According to the Duke you have kept me hidden from your friends, from anyone of the male gender. Like some prized rose for safekeeping until the flower show. I am not an object that should be hidden and only shown when it suits you!” 

“Y/N.”

“No Seokjin. How could this benefit you? How does stopping me making friends help you? Surely you should see some downsides of me being unable to talk to the male gender if you plan on me marrying my first season.”

“Do you not know who you are? You are the first born girl for generations. Do you not know how precious that makes you? I could not let your reputation be ruined. Not when it means so much. I could not have you marry just anyone. Not when I need the decision to be yours. For the right reason. I may not have a choice when it comes to marriage, but you do.” 

“What of your lover?”

“Namjoon? I cannot marry him. Society would not allow it. If I was not the first born, maybe. But I am, and I need to continue the lineage, to take over the household.”

“Does he know of this brother?”

“We’ve talked about it. Anyway, me keeping you safe does not concern Namjoon.”

“I understand why you did it brother. But did it really have to be extreme? I’m hurt brother.” 

“You need to understand, I did it for you.”

“You did it for the family Seokjin. Admit it. You didn’t want the first girl to be tainted.” You didn’t wait for an explanation from your older brother. Instead, you stormed out of the library, slamming the large wooden doors behind you. Your maid running behind you as you strode outside and to the carriage with two black horses that always seemed to wait incase someone needed it. 

“I’ll be okay Rose.” Your voice was soft as you spoke to your maid. “Please, let me do this by myself.” You swung open the carriage door.

“To the Min household please.” You ordered, throwing yourself down onto one of the cushioned seats, not looking back as your maid stayed where you left her, your house getting smaller until it was out of view.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N.” The Duke spoke, surprise evident in his voice. He was walking down the grand staircase in the middle of the hallway, one of his maids who answered the door ran to get him. 

“I had a fight with my brother.”

“And you came here?”

“I did not know where else to go.”

“You can not be here. Not unchaperoned.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You felt like a toddler close to having a tantrum. 

“You sound like my brother. I’ll be fine my Duke.”

“People will talk Y/N. Your reputation will be ruined. Marriage will be impossible.”

“Not with you it won’t be.”

“What?” 

“Marry me Yoongi. Help me keep my reputation if that is so important to you and my brother.” Yoongi stepped closer to you, slowly raising his right hand to caress your cheek. 

“This was not how I expected it to go.” Your heart hammered in your chest. 

“What do you mean?”

“I want to marry you Miss Y/L/N. Not just because you stormed into my house and demanded so. But because I find you interesting, caring, smart, although you do seem to have a stubborn streak to you.”

“Blame my brother.” You teased. Yoongi grinned, his eyes scanning your face.

“I was going to do this at the end of the season. But Miss Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes, my Duke.” 

You may have not known Yoongi for long, but the way your heart pounded, the butterflies dancing in your stomach let you know that you had made the right decision. 

“Seokjin’s going to kill me.” Yoongi muttered, his forehead pressed against yours.

[taleasnewastime]

Potions

Summary: Magic is banned, to perform it is an act punishable by death, a law brought in by the queen. And yet, here you are, living in the same palace as her, defying that law by performing the magic she so hates. You don’t feel at risk of being found out, you are only a lowly healer, a nobody. But when the prince discovers you and can’t seem to leave you alone, you may not be as safe as you thought.

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Genre: Prince Jimin, Healer reader, royal au, fluff, angst.

Word count: 23.6k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, anxious thoughts, worry and panic, a bit of angst, mentions of human trafficking, problem parents (it gets a tad nasty), medical things, cuts.

Authors Note: This story really took on a mind of its own. I love it, but I started it thinking it would be around 10k and then it just grew and grew into the monster you see today. I hope you enjoy this royal au!

The door bangs open and you scatter your work without a second thought. The piece of paper you were reading gets tucked into the pages of a book, the small glass jar you were working on is pushed aside as if it had nothing to do with anything, trying to blend it in with the other jars just like it along the wall. You weren’t exactly inconspicuous about it. The speed at which you moved, the way you shut the book and shoved everything away, it was obvious you were doing something you shouldn’t, you just hoped it was obvious what you were doing that was so wrong.

But while you take the few seconds to scatter you work the person behind you doesn’t say anything. Normally one of the girls would have been half way through their request while barging through the door. But while the door banged open, it had also banged shut, deep breaths sounding out in the quiet room as if the person had just run a marathon to get here.

Spinning, you turn to look at the new occupant of the room, and immediately freeze.

Even from the back, you can tell it’s the crown prince. Park Jimin. Even without all the almost literal flashing signs telling you it was him; without the navy, gold embroidered clothing, without the tall, slim, well-cut figure, without the regal grace that literally flows off him, you’d be able to tell it was him.

“Your Majesty, I’m sorry,” you say breathily as if it’s you that’s just run here and not him.

You’d seen the prince around the halls of palace, had even spoken to him once when you healed a cut on his arm, but you still don’t really expect him to recognise you. You’re just a lowly healer, not even one of the head nurses, probably not even classed as one of the better healers below them. No one’s first choice. So you don’t expect him to remember you, but as he spins to look at you, it still makes your heart drop when you see no recognition in his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he repeats your words, his tone even, even though he is clearly surprised to see you. “I didn’t realise anyone was in here.”

He glances around as if to check if there aren’t any other people he should know about hidden away. Then his eyes fall back on you. You struggle to hold his gaze, but remind yourself that he’s the one that walked in on you, not the other way around. Still, he is the prince.

“I’ll leave you,” you say, but don’t move as he still stands blocking the door.

“I interrupted you, it should be me that leaves.” While you stiffen with time, he seems to relax. “I just ask that you let me encroach on your space for a few more moments.”

It wasn’t even phrased as a question. A statement, something he wasn’t letting you say no to. Not that you could say no to him anyway, he was the prince after all.

“Stay as long as you need,” you say meekly, hoping that it wasn’t long.

You stand awkwardly as silence falls over the room. Should you carry on doing work around him? Should you just stand here in silence until he’s ready to leave? Or should you try and talk to him? What was acceptable to ask a prince? You couldn’t exactly have small talk with him, but then you can’t really get into the nitty gritty of life either.

“Carry on with whatever it was you were doing before I interrupted,” Jimin waves a hand as if reading your mind. “Pretend I’m not even here.”

Impossible. He’s set you an impossible task for two reasons. 1. you couldn’t go back to doing what you were doing before he came here, least of all because of who he is, but even if he was another healer or a guard or just a scullery maid, you still wouldn’t be able to go back to your work. And 2. you couldn’t possibly pretend he wasn’t stood in this room with you. His presence looms over you, even as you nod and turn your back to him you can sense his every movement.

You attempt to at least pretend to be busy. Opening the book to a sleeping potion your eyes scan the page, but you are fully focused on Jimins steps indicating his approach. You stiffen as you feel him stop behind you, feel him gazing over your shoulder.

“And what is it you’re doing?” You hear the smirk in his voice.

“Making a sleeping potion for one of the maid’s children, it has to be made weaker because of her age,” the lie falls easily from your lips.

Jimin hums, moving again, stepping around you so the he can lean his back against the bench you’re working at. Pretend I’m not even here. Yep, totally easy, totally doable with you stood less than a foot from me, not distracting at all.

“So you’re a healer?” He asks, hands reaching out for one of the potion bottles lining the back wall, rolling it in his fingers and watching the liquid splash around inside.

You could be sarcastic, and the reply nearly falls from your lips, but you manage to stop it just in time. “Yes,” you say instead.

There’s a pause. A slight awkwardness coming off Jimin even as he continues to fiddle with the bottles.

“And have you treated me before?” You feel his eyes raking over you, trying to place you in his mind, again your heart drops slightly, though you know it shouldn’t.

“Once when you had the flu, and once when you fell off your horse when hunting.” You turn your head so you can see his reaction as the words hit. As you hoped pink blossoms on his cheeks, it is light, but you can see it.

“Ah yes,” his hand scratches the back of his neck. “Neither my finest moment.”

You bite the smile as you look back down at your book, busy yourself with collecting the list of ingredients you’ll need for the potion you don’t need. It was a good distraction if nothing else, stopped the questions you wanted to ask, the questions that you’re unsure you can even ask him. Are you even allowed to initiate conversation with a prince? Aren’t they supposed to be the one to always talk first? Things you should definitely know, but due to your low position, have never been taught, you’re never supposed to be in positions like this.

“And do you enjoy being a healer?” Curiosity is clear in his voice, but also a need to fill the silence.

“Very much,” you say, which for once isn’t a lie.

“And here?” He asks. “Do you like working here I mean?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, again what else could you really say. “The royal family have been very generous to take me in. I will always be thankful to you for allowing me to work and live here.”

You turn and bow lightly at him as if to drive the message home. You catch the small crease between his brows when you dip down and it’s still there when you lift your head back to look at him, his eyes studying you.

“You live here too?”

Yep, he definitely does not recognise you. You try not to take offence. It’s not common for you to see him around the palace, but it’s also not uncommon. Glimpses of him at the end of the hallway, passing him in the gardens, the occasional sighting when you are given the task of delivering medicines around the palace. Nothing you would expect him to remember, but times that you remember in great detail.

But again, the question doesn’t surprise you. Plenty of the staff live in the palace, but the numbers are far fewer than those that live within the city and commute in each day. The accommodation is nice, if not basic, and living in it means that your wages are less, but you have nowhere else to go so living at the palace is a blessing to you.

“In the staff accommodation.” Short, simple answers, as you start to weigh out the materials for the potion.

“And do you like it?” He is truly digging, trying to keep this conversation alive.

“It is very nice,” the answer gets a laugh out of the prince and the noise both surprises and delights you, so much that you turn to him wide eyed.

“God, it’s one of the things I hate about being a prince, everyone feels like they have to lie to me,” his tone is still light, showing he’s not that affected by the thought of you lying.

“I – I’m telling the truth. It truly is nice. I like living here,” you stutter, making it sound like a lie even though it’s the truth.

He hums, a smile curving on his lips as he looks down at you. And the fact that he doesn’t reply to your comment only makes you blanch, makes you panic a little that you have somehow offended him.

“The palace took me in when I had nowhere else to go, and for that alone I will always be grateful. But beyond that; I like living here, enjoy my work, the rooms may be basic but it is enough for me. I genuinely like it.”

As each word comes out of your mouth the smile drops a little on Jimins mouth so that when you finish his lips are flat, an emotion swimming in his eyes that you can’t read as he continues to look at you. Maybe you’ve made it worse by carrying on. You should have stuck to the short and simple answers, they were less likely to get you into trouble.

“I –”  

Whatever words Jimin was going to say get cut off as the door to the room opens.

“Can you do some deliveries this afternoon? I need to get –”

As always, the words of whoever’s just entered the room are spoken loud and fast as soon as they enter. But as you and Jimin turn to look at the intruder, they notice who occupies the room.

“Your Majesty,” Helen drops into a wide-eyed bow, dropping so low her back is almost horizontal. You see Jimin school his face as she drops her gaze from him, all the emotion falling from his face so that when she looks back up, he looks every inch the prince he should be.

Her eyes flick between the two of you, the small glances she gives you telling you all the unspoken words you need to know. Why the fuck is he in here?

“I can get you the potion this afternoon,” you say in an almost robotic tone, the first thought that comes to your mind. “If that is ok, Your Majesty?”

Jimin looks at you, the furrow back between his eyes before he cottons on and then his face lights up, his eyes sparkle.

“Yes,” he replies. “Yes, that would be great.”

You nod your head, unsure why you have just given him an alibi to being here. He hadn’t even acted like he needed one, but the way that he barged into the room told you enough to know that he is hiding from something or someone. And the alibi was as much for you as it was for him. The questions Helen was bound to ask as soon as Jimin left this room would be bad enough, if you had no reason for him being here then they would be ten times worse.

When it is clear that you weren’t going to speak again, and that both you and Helen were waiting for Jimin to either speak or leave, he pushes off the bench.

“Right,” he looks between the two of you, before settling his gaze firmly on you. “Well thank you,” he pauses, realising he doesn’t know your name, and though you should fill in the gap for him, you don’t. “Um – thank you for all your help,” he says less sure.

“Anytime, Your Majesty,” you dip your head again.

His eyes linger on you a second longer and then he’s twisting and stepping towards the door. Not another word is spoken as he leaves you. There’s a beat or two of silence, as if Jimins absence from the room has caused a hole to form. And then Helen is turning on you.

“Why was the Crown Prince in here?”

You turn your back on her, glad again that you can busy yourself with the potion that no one needs.

“He’s been struggling to sleep. Wondered if there was anything I could give him to help.”

“And why the hell would he come to you for that?” She steps into the space Jimin left vacant and must read some emotion on your face as she adds, “no offence.”

You shrug your shoulders. That was a harder lie. Why was the Crown Prince in here? Why would he ask you for a sleeping potion?

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “Must have just stumbled in here looking for anyone.”

“Well, you can add his potion to your rounds.” She still seems unsure, not seeming to fully buy the answer, but also not willing to push it further. “But that means you’ll have to finish the potion first and then add it on. More work for you I’m afraid.”

You work your jaw, but your hands keep moving as you now grind all the ingredients together. A few hours ago, you would have done a lot of things to have such a simple conversation with the prince, but now, you feel less sure that it was something to want.

It was a dream of a stupid girl, something you’d never have dreamed would come true, a dream born from desire. But now it’s happened, you realise how stupid it was. It is better to be hidden, to be a nobody, to be safe in the knowledge nobody knows you. Nobody of importance anyway.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” are Helen's parting words.

You finish the potion, even though Jimin doesn’t really need it, it would be safer to give him the real thing then to risk giving him a fake. Once done, you collect the bottles needed to do the rounds and set off. When you reach the prince’s door you debate going in, your hand hovers over the wood, but you never bring your hand down. Instead, you leave the potion outside the door, he would find it eventually, and when he did he’d know it was from you.

Magic is banned. More than that, it’s punishable by death, which is why what you’re currently doing is incredibly, incredibly dangerous. Especially in the grounds of the palace, under the roof of the woman that created the law.

But the thing about magic is, if it’s not regularly used, then it can disappear. It’s probably why everyone thinks it has fully gone now.

You were only young when the law came in, can barely remember when magic was allowed anywhere and everywhere, when it wasn’t feared like it is now. And the memories you do have are probably more stories told to you than your own memories. But you remember flames and ice, small sparks coming out of hands. You remember blood flowing back into wounds, skin stitching itself back together. You remember rains summoned when there were droughts, rocks lifted with the power of just a mind clearing blocked roads, fires lit to lighten dark nights. Small, now hazy memories, but proof it hasn’t always just been you.

You have to practice to make sure you don’t lose the skill. And though it would be so much easier, so much safer, to not practice, to blend in and become a nobody, you are determined to never do that. Not simply because you know how much good magic could do, how stupid and pointless and futile the law is. But because it is your silent protest. You against the queen you have never met and hope to never meet. The woman who caused it all, the woman who ruined your life. If she is that scared of magic, then you would continue to keep it.

You’re being stupid though. Despite it all, it was utterly stupid to be stood in this room doing what you’re currently doing. Stood in a room that anyone could access, conjuring fire in your hands, not even a candle around to light as cover if someone walked in.

You needed to practice it though. Out of all your powers, fire was your weakest. If you could use your powers at your fullest, you’d be able to conjure fires big enough to please the queen on burns night, you’d be able to conjure a wind strong enough to carry a ship full of a hundred men across the sea, and you’d be able to heal even the sickest of patients. Without free reign you can barely muster a wind strong enough to blow some paper across a room, and now can’t hold fire in your hand for longer than a couple of seconds.

Healing though, that you could do with more assurance. A few simple words muttered when adding specific ingredients to water and the poison in a patient will effectively be flushed out. With the right patient (normally a distracted child) you could use your magic when sewing up a wound and speed the healing process. You can stem and slow blood flow, not quite able to reverse the flow yet, but maybe one day.

Magic has been gone for so long it feels like it is just you left. But you dream about the day it will return. Dream about the day when others like you can come out into the open and use your powers freely. Dream about talking to someone about it, dream about learning more than you know now.

Because as you stand, small light flickering, you feel pathetic. You should be able to do more than this, it should be easy, shouldn’t require the effort you are currently producing. And though it’s an improvement, a fire bigger than you could produce last time you tried, you only feel sadness as you look at the flame.

So you will keep on practicing, you will keep on using your magic, you will keep it flowing in you and you won’t let it die. You will keep defying the Queen.

You’re too busy looking at the paper in your hand to realise the person that stops in front of you. Too busy working out where you need to go to deliver the next potion to realise that you are about to crash head first into said person. So much so, that when hands come to your shoulders and stop you in your tracks, you visibly jump, nearly dropping the glass bottles of potions in the process.

“I didn’t mean to make you jump,” the voice attached to the hands laughs the words out.

You flush before you even look up, realising who the hands belong to before you even see his face. But you still look up to confirm your worst suspicions.

“Your Majesty,” you jump back out of his reach and dip into a bow, the wide toothy smile is still on Jimins face when you look back up, amused. “I’m sorry. I should have been looking where I was going. I didn’t mean to crash into you, I will make sure to take more care -”

“It’s fine,” he waves a dismissive hand, cutting you off. “No harm done.”

You dip into a small bow again, unsure why, you just feel the need somehow. “I’m sorry,” again you apologise, and again, you are unsure why.

A small laugh sounds out of Jimins mouth as he takes in your flustered state. He must be used to people acting like this around him, yet his laugh isn’t unkind, he isn’t mocking you, instead his eyes dance with something you don’t try to read into.

Your insides heat, and you have to look away from him, unable to hold his gaze. The two guards who flank him that your eyes land on, isn’t a much better sight, their faces just as amused as the princes. You were making a damn fool of yourself and you had an audience while doing it.

“I’m actually glad I bumped into you,” Jimin’s lips tweak at the small joke he makes, clearly pleased with himself. “I wanted to thank you for the sleeping potion. It helped tremendously, is there any chance making it a repeat prescription?”

It suddenly hits you how stupid you have been. You gave him the sleeping potion that you said you were making for a small child, a lie you told him and then probably confirmed by giving him the potion. But he wasn’t implying that now, no annoyance had seeped into his tone, nothing to suggest that you giving him that potion had made him realise who and what you are.

No. His tone is still light and playful. He is carrying on the lie you had created. He didn’t need a sleeping potion, at least as far as you knew, and yet here he is asking for a repeat prescription. Either he had taken the potion and found that it did actually help him sleep, so much so that he wanted to keep it up. Or, he wanted to continue to see you, to keep up the lie for whatever reason, fun presumably.

The last guess was so absurd, something so unlikely to happen, that it must be because he does struggle to sleep.

“Of course,” you try to keep your voice level as you reply. “I will let the Matron know and she will add it to our rounds.”

His smile seems to deepen somehow. “Great,” he says.

“If that is all..?” You flick your eyes down to the remaining potions you have left to deliver, a not-so-subtle hint that you needed to carry on your work.

Jimin dips his head, stepping out of your path. “Have a nice day.”

You don’t move, eyes instead watch Jimin stepping out of your path, twisting as you watch him moving, his two guards following. You manage to dip your head and say a small your majesty as he walks away from you.

Before he reaches the end of the hall, before he disappears fully from view, he turns back to look at you. That same wide, frustratingly handsome smile on his face. Cheeky, you realise, the sparkle in his eyes, the toothy smile, he’s toying with you, he knows how he’s affecting you and he’s enjoying every second.

“Oh, and Y/N,” you remain rooted to the spot looking at him, eyes widening as he speaks your name. “Next time you deliver my potions, deliver them to me, in my room, not by leaving it outside the door.”

He gives you one last wicked smile before twisting and walking away. You stay looking at the spot he once occupied.

He’d learnt your name. You hadn’t given it to him, and yet he had obviously asked someone to find out what it was. You aren’t sure what to make of that information, but your insides heat none the less.

It was a bad idea, such a bad idea to become known to the prince, to be a name he wants to find out let alone someone he stops to talk to in the halls. Though the thought brings a smile to your lips, you know that you shouldn’t want it, that you should want to remain invisible.

It won’t last, you try to convince yourself. Jimin was well known to welcome many beautiful women to his bed, and though you wouldn’t put yourself in that category, you know that as soon as the next woman walks into his life you’ll be long forgotten.

You have nothing to worry about. You try again to convince yourself, though your heart continues to pound in your chest as you finally turn and continue your rounds.

It takes a week for you to see him again, and this time he doesn’t barge into the room. Instead, there’s a knock on the door, something that so rarely happens, most of the time the door is thrown open by another healer or by a patient in dire need of medical attention. So it’s shocking when you calmly peal back the door only to see Jimin smiling back at you, arm lifted to his chest, blood soaking into his loose white tunic.

“I had an accident,” he says in way of greeting.

Your eyes dart between the blood on his shirt, the arm, wound turned so you can’t see it, and his still smiling face. At least he’s not in too much pain if he can still smile like that.

“You should go to the infirmary,” you say and then remember who stands in front of you. “Your Majesty.”

His smile falters for half a second, barely enough for you to notice. “But I’m here now.”

You don’t know what to do. Don’t know what protocol is when the crown prince turns up at your door asking to be treated. Should you let him in and treat him? Go and find someone with higher authority to come and help? Or take him to the infirmary yourself?

“There’s a chair you can sit on in the corner,” you say, opening to door wider so he can walk in.

While he goes to the chair you indicated you scurry around the room in search of possible supplies. A potion for helping with the pain, some bandages, some towels, a bowl of water; all of it you bring to the table by the chair Jimin occupies.

Even when everything is laid out, you hesitate in turning to look at the prince. You really shouldn’t be the one treating him. You should insist that he is seen by someone else, that you at least go and fetch someone else.

“Ah, are you sure that you don’t want me to fetch you someone more... experienced to deal with you. I mean to treat you,” you flush, even though you haven’t looked at him yet, hands busy moving around the equipment that doesn’t need anything doing to it.

“I’m sure you will be just fine,” he says lightly, and even before you look at him, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“I’m not –”

“Are you trained to heal wounds?” He cuts you off.

“Yes,” you answer meekly.

“So you know what you’re doing, you won’t do me any more damage?” He continues, voice level.

“Yes,” you say in much the same way. “I’m trained to treat wounds.”

“Then I ask you to please treat me,” he lifts his arm an inch as if to emphasis his point. “There, I’ve requested it now. You wouldn’t go against your prince’s orders now, would you?”

“A request or an order?” The words come out automatically and you have to scramble to save yourself. “I’m sorry. I just mean, that I think you’d be better suited with someone else treating you. I am trained to treat you, there are just better, more skilled people.” Jimin gives you a look, opening his mouth to talk, but foolishly you cut him off. “But, of course, I don’t want to go against your wishes, Your Majesty. I just wanted to give you the proper information so you can make an informed decision.”

Amusement spreads back across his face, and if it wasn’t for that you would continue to worry you had insulted him. Worry that he might heed your word and actually leave here and seek a better healer, and then probably tell them all about how insolent you are.

“I am happy with your treatment,” he says.

You nod your head. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to treat him, wasn’t that you aren’t capable, you are capable of doing a lot more than the palace allows. It is that you worry about the fact that the prince wants you to treat him, it is the words the others would say if they found out you are currently treating the prince. You are supposed to be flying under the radar, not putting a red marker on your back.

Still, to deny the prince would be worse, to cause a scene would be worse. You would treat his wound quickly and effectively, and then you would hope that he leaves.

You swallow, take a breath, before slipping into your best bedside manner. You try to look at Jimin as a patient and not the handsome prince he is.

“Please can I see the wound.”

You place a hand palm up in front of him and he doesn’t hesitate in placing his arm wound up in it. It isn’t a deep cut, deep enough to produce all the blood currently staining his white tunic, but shallow enough to have not done much substantial damage, or to leave a permanent mark.

“How did it happen?” You ask as your one hand continues to hold his arm and the other reaches for the towel and bowl of water. He doesn’t even flinch as you gently clean the cut.

“Training accident,” he says simply.

You hum as you continue to clean the cut. He obviously isn’t feeling very talkative on the matter, either that or how he got this in some secret way he cannot talk about. Or maybe he was just embarrassed. Either way, you couldn’t question him further about it. Questions are restricted to a patient-healer capacity only.

When fully cleaned, you dump the towel into the bowl and pick up the potions and salves you’d brought over.

“And what about you, how did you become a healer?”

“I fell into it really,” you say. “I can actually thank you and the palace for taking me in and training me.” You dip your head into a small bow as if in thanks.

“Oh,” he sounds genuinely shocked by your thanks.

“I’m just going to apply some Aloe and Althaea salve to help with the healing and inflammatory,” you explain.

Dipping your finger into the cream, you apply a generous amount across the cut. His skin is smooth even with the gash, and you might linger a bit, spend a little longer than necessary rubbing the salve in.

“I will give you some of this to take away with you,” you explain as you place the pot to the side, and pick up some clean bandages. You try to focus on your words as your fingers dance across Jimins skin, try to think of him as any normal patient as you feel the heat coming off him. “I will also give you some Turmeric and Hydrastis tea to take once a day, to help fight off infection. It’s luckily not too deep so you shouldn’t worry too much, but I would still recommend you take it for a week at least.”

You secure the bandage with a pin and then move to clean the mess created, dumping the now bloody water in the sink. You leave the bowl in the sink to get the tea you promised, you could finish up when the prince was gone.

“And will the bandages need changing?” Jimins voice comes from behind you.

“They should be fine, a precaution if anything. If the wound continues to bleed though, then you will have to go and see one of the healers,” you say as you weigh out the tea leaves and then pour it into a small glass pot.

“A healer? Like you?”

You have to supress the eye roll that threatens to show itself, even though your back is to him. You school your face back into neutral, emotionless, as you turn to look back at him. The same lazy smile graces his features, letting you know he knows exactly what he’s doing. Cheeky, cocky, dangerous. He needs to leave; you should never have even let him in here.

“If the wound continues to bleed then I really would have to insist you see someone with more experience,” you take the few steps towards him and hold out the small pot of tea.

He ignores you, or at least doesn’t take the tea from you. Instead, he lifts the bandaged arm and twists it at eye level. He looks like he’s never seen a wound bandaged before, something you would find very unlikely.

“You’ve done a good job,” he remarks.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” you say, still holding the tea out for him, silently begging him to take it and leave.

He seems to get the message. Jumping up off the chair you have to take a step back so that you don’t touch him. He just continues to smile.

“So, a spoonful of tea into a strainer with hot water once a day,” you say, trying to recover.

Finally, he takes the jar from your hand, his fingers brush yours in a gentle sweep and you’re glad when you can finally step away from him.

“Thank you for the help, Y/N,” he smiles while you swoon, your name sounding like honey coming from his lips. “I will be sure to take the tea.”

You bow your head as he walks to the door, suddenly unsure what to say. Which definitely explains the next words that leave your lips.

“I hope I don’t see you any time soon.”

The prince pauses in the doorway, twisting to look at you, his smile still there but smaller, his eyes slightly narrowed as if trying to work out what you said.

“I mean. You know. I just mean, I hope you don’t hurt yourself again,” you scramble the words out. “I hope I don’t see you soon, because that will mean you’re injured, and I hope that doesn’t happen,” you finish lamely.

Amusement gleams in Jimins eyes as he continues to look at you, as if hoping you carry on. For your own sanity, you seal your lips shut, not wanting to dig your hole any bigger.

“Then I hope to see you another time, for another reason, Y/N,” he smiles at you.

Your name again, attached to the end of that sentence; your heart flip flops in your chest as if unsure how to beat properly any more. Your lips remain sealed as you revert to just bowing your head at him, scared you’ll mess up again.

A small chuckle leaves the princes lips as he nods his head at you and then turns and heads out the door.

You almost collapse into a heap when the door closes. Was that the best experience of your life or the worst?

You’ve only seen Jimin a few times now, had spoken to him so little it wouldn’t be worth telling anyone if he wasn’t a prince. But seeing him in a public setting, with more than his personal guards as a witness, felt extremely weird. It wasn’t like he was even talking to you, no, you were stood in a crowd of people staring at him sat on a podium where he probably couldn’t pick your face out of the crowd even if he wanted to.

You doubt he is even aware you’re here, not that he’ll even be trying to seek you out. One of the healers on duty for a public event, it’s a part of your job that you are glad only occurs when it’s your turn on the rotation; aka, infrequently. It feels like something that you should enjoy, one of the perks to your job, getting tickets to coveted events. But the reality was standing around watching people have fun on the off chance that something goes wrong and medical help is needed. In the six years you’ve lived in the palace, and at the nine events you’ve attended, you’ve had to give assistance to precisely one person. A man that had had too much to drink and tripped on the edge of a rug, falling and hitting his head. Your prescription, lots of water, his bed, and a potion to help with his sore head in the morning.

Beautiful gowns flow around the room, attached to just as beautiful women. While you stand in just your basic canvas tunic in the corner, watching the room as if you’re security not there for any medical needs. Servers carry trays full of glasses around, not being able to make a clean walk around the room before all the glasses are gone. You wish you could have just one glass to take off the edge of the evening. But of course, that wouldn’t be professional. It would have been nice for someone to provide a chair for you at least. At this rate, you’d be the one that needed medical attention.

You’ve set up a nice little spot for yourself though. Hidden away in one of the back corners, you can lean against the wall while being able to see the majority of the room. And of course, you have a clear view of Jimin.

It’s probably one of the only good things about coming to events like this, even before you’d spoken to the man, you enjoyed ogling Jimin from across the room. Who can blame you? Certainly not half the women and men in the room currently doing exactly the same as you. You imagine that’s why 90% of people are here, just to be close to the man.

While people talk and dance around the ball room, Jimin sits next to the Queen high above their subjects. It’s been a couple of hours and Jimin still hasn’t gotten up to dance, it’s not an uncommon occurrence, but you wonder if he’ll dance at all tonight. A few ladies have approached him, presumably to ask for a dance, but he hasn’t gone to the dance floor with any of them.

Your mind wonders as you look around the room. You should probably walk around a bit, check everything is going ok. But you honestly can’t be bothered, people know you are here. It’s a formality you even have to be here, one healer is expected at these events purely so they don’t have to wait in an emergency, they don’t expect you to mingle, just to stand and be on hand if needed.  

You could head over to the table of food. You can’t drink on duty, but there’s nothing stopping you from grabbing some of the food. It’s probably better than what’s served when you go to the staff kitchens. But again, you don’t move. You don’t want to risk losing your spot, but more than that, you don’t particularly want to bump into someone overly chatty. People watching and the background music of the band was a lot better than a drunk man trying to chat you up.

As your eyes trail back across the room, you stand up straighter when you realise the chair next to the Queen is empty. Your eyes flick across the room before you see his distinct figure on the dance floor. He looks the whole package stood in the middle of the floor. Blond hair swept to the side, his navy jacket embroidered with gold, his trousers obviously custom-made judging by the way they perfectly hug his legs. It’s not just you either, you can feel the way the whole room seems to be drawn to him, all eyes on him. And on the woman in his arms.

You don’t know if you would describe the emotion that runs through you as envy as you look at the way the two of them sway around the room. But there is definitely something aligned to jealousy.

It’s not even that you’re jealous of her dancing with Jimin (but you are), but more that you would never be her. Never get to wear a dress as beautiful as the pink satin that seems to trail her body. Never get to be invited to an event like this as a guest, not as a part of your job. Never get to have fun and not care or worry. To have all the eyes in the room on you and not worry that the reason is because they know about the powers you hide.

But as the pair of them spin around the room you realise you will never have that. Never get the fairy tale that you’re sure most girls dream of having. This, stood here in this room, on the edge, an outsider, is the closest you’ll ever get to that dream.

And just as that thought passes through your head, your heart stops.

Because spinning around that dance floor, you swear Jimin’s eyes meet your gaze. You try to convince yourself that they didn’t, that his eyes just happened to sweep the spot, that he may have looked at you, but he wasn’t actually looking, it just happened to be a spot his eyes flicked across on while he turns.

And then he turns so that his face is facing you again. And there is no mistaking that he is looking at you. No mistaking the way his eyes seek you out. The way that when his eyes finally find you, they linger as long as possible. The way that even as he continues to spin, he looks at you for as long as his face is to you. That, just before he turns to look away, a small smile flicks on his lips, as if happy to see you here.

But no. None of that could be true.

Standing up straighter, you try to snap yourself out of it. You’d spent too long day dreaming about being a guest here that you were starting to hallucinate.

Before Jimin can do another full turn to face you again, you’re already moving from your spot.

Giving up your spot without much thought, you walk along the back wall. You don’t look to see if Jimin tries to seek you out, to see if he reacts when he realises you’ve gone. You just focus on walking behind the crowd that’s gathered to watch the dancing.

It still seems stupid. To think that the crown prince had smiled at you while dancing with one of the most beautiful women you’ve seen. Utterly ridiculous. Yet, you carry on walking, no idea where you are heading or when you will stop, but you couldn’t stay where you were. It’s not like you expected Jimin to approach you, not here, not with so many people around you, but you’d panicked, and if it was truly real, if he was truly looking at you, you couldn’t just stand and watch that.

But now half walking, half running, down the back of the room, the panic in your starts to grow. Blossoming with Jimin, but becoming more irrational as you speed away, the effect making you feel like someone was chasing you. And though you know no one is, you can’t get the thought out of your head.

An open door is all you need to see to change course. You pause briefly to tell the guard manning the door that you need some air and where to find you if someone needs medical help. But he doesn’t even blink twice at you, giving you a look to show that he couldn’t care any less.

The cold air engulfs you, making you realise how hot you are, half from the hot room you’ve just left, half from your panic-stricken state. But the cold air at least helps. So does your slower steps. Looking less like you’re running from the scene of a crime and more like you’re enjoying walking around the dark garden you’re currently stood in.

You wonder aimlessly, looking at the flowers you can barely see in the dark, trying not to think back to Jimin's eyes landing on you. Trying not to think of the small smile that graced his lips as his eyes took you in. Trying, and definitely failing.

No matter how you think about it, you can’t explain it. Though you can think of many times that you’ve seen him, you can only think of three occasions when he actually spoke to you, only three occasions that he would remember seeing you. Hardly enough to explain the smile that came to his lips. Though, you had wrapped up his wound, had covered his back and given him that sleeping potion. Still, it didn’t seem to explain it.

Whatever, it doesn’t matter, it wasn’t worth contemplating. It wasn’t anything.

The door you exited comes back into view. You’ve done a full, slow loop of the garden. You heave out a sigh, closing your eyes, trying to compose yourself as you realise you should head back in. If before was hard, now the ball would feel torturous. You just hope you can keep your panic down.

You give the guard a small smile as you re-enter the ball room, again he doesn’t seem to care, looking as bored about having to work here as you are. After a bit of hesitation, you head back in the direction of the spot you’d left. Even if Jimin had truly looked at you, he wouldn’t come to you, and you felt safe in that spot.

Leaning against the now familiar room, you look back to the dance floor. The familiar figure of Jimin is nowhere to be seen. But when you look up at the throne, the spot next to the Queen is empty too. Your heart rate increases, though not as drastically as before.

But through the remaining time you have to stand in the room, nothing happens. Jimin doesn’t reappear. He doesn’t appear at your side. No one comes to tell you the prince has requested your presence elsewhere. And though this was what you had expected, what you had been trying to convince yourself would be the case, you can’t help that your heart drops lower and lower into your stomach the longer you stand there.

There are no last-minute calls into your room from Jimin. No bumping into him in the halls of the palace. And though you should be happy, again you can’t help but feel a tad disappointed. And again, you can’t help but feel like you should be feeling happy that you haven’t seen him.

But your feelings must be clear for everyone to see, as when Helen comes into your room a week after the ball and tells you you’re on the medicine rounds.

“You know, you should be careful,” she must see the question dancing in your eyes. “The way your face lit up gives you away. The fact that I’ve seen him come in here to see you specifically. I just want you to be careful.”

“Don’t tell me, he’s a ladies man, he’ll string you along until he has what he wants, it will only end up breaking your heart,” you do a poor impression of her voice.

“No. I was more going for the fact that he’s a prince and you’re a healer.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It just means, do you really think Jimin is looking for anything long term here?”

“Am I looking for anything long term?” You challenge and Helen lets out a small frustrated sigh.  

“I don’t know what he wants, I don’t know what you want, I just – I just want you to be careful ok.”

You look at her, see the real concern swimming in her eyes.

“Have you heard something about him? Has he done something I should know about?”

“No,” she’s quick to shut it down, and you can’t tell whether it’s because there honestly is nothing, or because she’s worries about someone hearing. “No, it’s nothing.”

You’re not convinced. But if it was honestly something bad then she’d tell you. She’d probably stop you seeing him if it was really bad.

You nod. “It’s fine Helen. I’m just a healer that happens to work in a palace and the prince happens to ask me to tend his wounds.”

The concern still swims in her eyes, but she doesn’t give any more protests. Doesn’t say anything as she leaves you to your work.

You work all day, putting off Helens words as an elder looking out for her younger. She probably just thinks you’re naive and need guidance. By the times you start to do your rounds, you’ve almost completely forgotten her words, or at least put them completely out of your mind.

You leave the sleeping potion until the end. Approaching the prince's door your nerves grow. Even though he had told you himself to not leave the potion outside his door, you can’t help but feel like that’s what you should do.

Pausing, you stand staring at the closed door, but don’t give yourself too much time to think about who is behind the door, knocking before you over think it and chicken out. But there was no need to worry, because there is no answer. A second and third louder knock also don’t get any results.

So even though he had told you to give it to him and not leave it outside his door, even though you had been excited to see him even if for a second, here you are putting the small glass bottle on the floor. What had you really expected? Even if he had been here, what would have happened? He would have opened the door, maybe said thank you, and you’d be on your way.

Deflated, and wishing you hadn’t felt so upbeat coming here, you turn away from the prince’s room. You take the stairs down from his private quarters, mind trying to think of all the things you have left to finish up before you can finish for the day, that you don’t even realise someone is coming up the stairs.

“Oh,” strong hands embrace you once again, stopping you from slipping down the steps. “We need to stop meeting like this.”

Even though you are a step above Jimin, he is still taller than you. But at his words, at the feeling of his hands on you, you step back a step or two and now it’s you looking down on him.  

The first thing you notice is how tired he looks. His eyes bloodshot, dark circles under his eyes. There’s a small smile on his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes the way it normally does, and as you look down at the clothes he’s wearing, you notice his shirt is rumpled and his boots muddy. Maybe he really does need the sleeping potion you make up for him.

“I’m so sorry, Your Majesty,” you say when you’re far enough away from him. “That was my fault. Again. I should have been paying more attention.”

“I believe you said that last time too,” the smile on his lips flicks at the corners.

You heat at the words, but before you can stutter out a reply, Jimin is moving. The stairs are narrow, wide enough for two people to squeeze past each other, but even as you twist to let him walk past you, you still feel his body brush against yours. He doesn’t say anything as he continues up the stairs, and all you can do is stand and watch him, wondering why he didn’t even give you a goodbye.

Your question is answered though when you take a step down the stairs away from him. As if hearing you, Jimin speaks from above you.

“Are you not coming?”

You twist so quickly you have to place a hand on the wall to make sure you don’t fall. Jimin has climbed to the top of the stairs now.

“I – I didn’t realise I was supposed to follow you,” you say, and then as if an afterthought add, “sorry.”

“Well, now you know,” is all Jimin says before he turns and carries along the hall.

You remain where you are as he disappears from view, Helens words ringing in your head. But you can’t really walk away, you can’t not follow Jimin. And even if you had a good excuse, even if you could tell him that you have work to do and can’t follow him; he’s walked away from you. As if he knows you’ll attempt to not follow, he’s not given you an opportunity to tell him.

Begrudgingly, you walk up the stairs, retracing your steps. But this time when you approach his door, it is left open, no potion bottle on the floor.

His room isn’t what you expect, it’s large, but that’s about the only thing your imagination got right. You had expected regal, gold, large four poster bed, with fancy furniture littering the room. What you hadn’t expected is the room you see, littered with papers, a few items of clothing hanging off the back of chairs and even a few just dumped on the floor, bed unmade; basically, the opposite of the put together look the prince represents in public.

You don’t make it further than the single step through the door. Partly because you don’t want to step on any of the mess, and partly because you’re not really sure why you’re here. You linger, weight shifting between your feet, eyes darting around the room, unsure where to settle.

“Sorry about the mess,” Jimin speaks from across the room, not sounding sorry at all.

“Do you not have people clean your room?” A common occurrence, you not thinking before speaking to the prince.

Even from across the room you can see the small smile on his lips as he looks at you. You open your mouth to take back every word, to try and fix the mess you’re creating, but Jimin speaks first.

“I prefer to know where everything is. When the room has been cleaned in the past, I seem to always struggle to find things after. I just find it better this way,” he shrugs, eyes look around the room before resting back on you. “Though, as you can probably tell, I don’t get too many visitors.”

You wouldn’t have guessed it, you would have said he had a long line of visitors trying to stand in the spot you’re stood on now. Isn’t that what Helen had implied. A different woman every night, friends visiting all the time; you thought he would he be drowning in the amount of people that came into this room. But evidentially not.

“I’d probably start with a better organising system, then people might not be so put off coming in here,” you don’t look at him, eyes still taking in the mess of the room.

“Duly noted,” he replies and before you look at him, you can hear the smile on his mouth. “If you have any tips or suggestions, I would gladly hear them.”

You hum, heating at the fact that he would happily accept your help to clean his room, but wouldn’t accept the help of someone whose job it is to clean.

“How is the wound on your arm?” You change course, to safer, more professional matters.

He lifts his arm, looking at it as if he’s trying to remember the wound that surly still marks his skin. From here you can see the bandages are gone, but can’t see the wound and how well it’s healing. At least the bandages not being present is a good sign.

“I believe it was the tea that really helped,” he says cheekily.

“And the sleeping potions?” You ignore his jest, trying to remain focused on your job.

“You know, when you first dropped them at my door, I was just going to leave it somewhere in this mess,” he waves a hand, gesturing to the room. “But I thought there was no harm in trying it. I wouldn’t have said I was a bad sleeper, but since taking the potion I feel so much better.”

“I’m glad to hear,” you say simply.

“I guess you could say I’ve been overly stressed recently, so thanks for unknowingly helping me.”

You cock your head to your side, is that why he looked so dishevelled, because he was stressed? Was there something causing it? Your curiosity gets the better of you, but also, you reason, it is your job to ask.

“You know, healers jobs are to treat people. Physical wounds are a large part of it, but there are invisible wounds too. Your mental health is just as important as your physical,” not a clear invitation, but an invitation none the less to talk to you.

“Ah, yeah, thanks.” He scratches the back of his neck, shy, unsure, bashful; not the reaction you had expected from the cocky prince.

“It doesn’t have to be me, any of the healers would gladly listen to you,” you carry on, because even if he looks unsure on the matter, you want to make sure that he knows there is no shame in the matter. “And it’s all confidential. No one would talk about what you tell them. It would just be between you and them.” You say, and when he still looks unsure, when you can feel his slight awkwardness on the matter you add, “unless you plan on killing someone of course.”

The comment gains a laugh, and a small smile spreads across your face at the sight.

“Yeah, no need to worry, I’m not planning on killing anyone,” he smiles at you, back to the happy self you’ve become so used to.

“I’m glad to hear,” you give him a small smile.

When he doesn’t respond, you look around the room, wondering why you’re still stood here, wondering why he even called you back here. You should probably turn and leave him to it now that he seems done talking to you. But obviously picking up on your sudden discomfort, Jimin starts talking again.

“Oh, right, yeah,” he says, dragging a hand over his face, making it more obvious just how tired he is. “I didn’t just ask you back here to show you how messy my room is. I actually have something for you.”

You still, not that you were moving much in the first place, but the slight sway you had, the nervous twitching of your fingers, even your heart beat, all stop. He had something for you? Probably just some of the old potion bottles he wanted to return. Not that he couldn’t do that literally any other time, but you guess that him seeing you on the stairs was probably a reminder that he had to return them.

A smile comes to your face as you watch him. Tired, he was definitely tired, eyes puffy as they look around the room for whatever it is he wants to give you. It’s almost comical that he can’t find whatever it is, even after his whole speech about knowing where everything is.

“The potion bottles are there,” you finally decide to be helpful, and point at the handful of empty bottles on his bedside table.

He looks over his shoulder at you, eyebrows raised in question, “what?”

“The – uh – are you not looking for the potion bottles to give back to me?”

He looks from you to where you point, and then back to you, confusion on his face the whole time.

“Right. Well, you can take those back if you want, but that wasn’t what I was looking for,” he says and then continues to look on the table in front of him.

Ok, well that’s your original theory out the window.

You stay stood in the same spot at the door as you watch Jimin shuffle through different bits, mumbling about not remembering where he left it. You wait longer than you would have thought possible, having more restraint with the prince present in the room. But everyone has a breaking point, and watching Jimin sleepily mumbling to himself and shuffling through the same damn piles of paper gets too much.

Jimin doesn’t even look your way as you start to pick your way across the room. He is seemingly unbothered by your presence in his room, though you reason that he was the one who had invited you in here in the first place. You head for the empty potion bottles, having no idea what this item is that he is looking for, you can’t help with that.

But when you get to the bottles and put them in your now empty satchel from your early rounds, you once again feel useless, just now deeper in the prince’s room then before. Your hands start to twitch again, and your eyes roam the room from the different spot.  

You can’t help yourself. The room isn’t necessarily dirty, just messy, and as you stand still, feeling useless you can’t help yourself. You start on the bedside table, just moving the books there so that they are in a neat pile rather than a small mess, picking up the two dirty glasses and placing them in a pile you note will be need to be taken away.

It’s when you move to the dresser that Jimin takes note of what you’re doing.

“Uh, didn’t I just do a whole rant about how I don’t like people cleaning my room?”

“Yeah, you also went on about how you know where everything in here lives, and that’s obviously not true, so...”

You don’t know why you’re suddenly being so brash. But you suppose that you’d said enough stupid things around him and he’d not seemed to care so far. Plus, something was obviously bothering him, something was causing him stress, and this mess was definitely not helping the situation. So, you weren’t going to back down easily in this fight.

“Y/N,” Jimin warns.

“Are you going to give me another order or request or whatever princely thing it is you do that binds me to your will?”

You hear a huff of a laugh, back still to the man as you continue to clean. “You’ve not complained before.”

“Yeah, well I’ve decided that this room is affecting your health, and therefore it’s my duty to clean it,” you say.

“It’s really not that bad in here,” another small laugh.

“It’s a surprise you manage to get any woman to come up here,” you say, as always, not thinking before you speak.

“Yeah,” you hear the unease in his voice, and without looking at him you can imagine the hand that’s awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Like I said, I don’t get many visitors.”

You don’t know how to respond to that, so instead just keep cleaning. It’s not really the deep clean you’d hope, instead more a tidy as you straighten items and pick up some of the discarded clothes. As you go, you can’t help but think about the words he’s just spoken. He doesn’t get many visitors, no females staying the night. Probably because he goes to their room instead, because surely the prince has a different woman every night. It’s what you have always assumed, and talking to the prince, getting to know him however small, only solidifies the fact. He is not only handsome, but kind and happy and easy to talk to.

“Y/N,” Jimin says from behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Please stop cleaning.”

“I really don’t mind,” you say, attempting to brush him off.

“Yeah, but I do,” his words grow louder indicating he is picking his way across the room to you, still you don’t turn to look at him.

“Is that because you’re embarrassed, because I’m doing a bad job, or because you genuinely like your room looking like this?”

“It’s because,” he says, his voice now right behind you. And though the noise makes you tense up, you continue to move, continue to clean. That is until a hand comes out, grasping one of your wrists to stop you moving. “It is not your job to clean, and it is not the reason I invited you here.”

He tugs gently on your arm, not forcing you to turn to him, but a small request. Even though your whole body is being heated from the spot where his skin touches yours, you twist to look at him.  

He’s closer than you thought he’d be. His hand remains on your arm as he looks down his nose at you. For seconds that feel like hours he just silently stares at you, an emotion you can’t read swimming in his eyes. But as if sensing your unease, he drops your arm and takes a small step away from you, his eyes never leaving you.

“I found your gift,” he says, voice slightly croaky, lifting something in his hands.

Your eyes dart to it, a book. Flowers drawn over the cover, you can’t quite read the words on the cover as he waves it around.

“It feels kind of stupid now I’m giving it to you,” Jimin turns sheepish as you eye the gift, and when you look back at his face, you can see the uncertainty written there. But he still holds out the book in front of him so you can properly read the cover. “I mean, now I’m giving it to you I suddenly realise that you probably already own this book, or have access to a hundred others like it. But, when I saw it, I thought that you’d enjoy it.”

The art of herbal healing, the words on the cover read. He’s right, you do have a hundred books exactly like this, with probably the exact same information inside. But none of them were given to you by the prince, none of them were bought specifically with you in mind.

Slowly, you lift your hands and wrap your fingers around the book, taking it out of Jimin’s hands. It’s not big, not like some of the tome’s you have down in the healing rooms. But the cover is beautiful, a pink canvas covering the book with some of the illustrations of plants in the book. But the thing that takes your breath away is the thought that Jimin saw this and thought of you, and then bought the book, for you.

“It’s beautiful,” you almost whisper the words.

“I was at a market and saw it and thought that it might be of use. I guess it’s as a thank you for healing me and getting me out of some sticky situations too. But if you don’t need it, if it’s no use, then I don’t mind if you give it away or -”

“Jimin,” you’re not sure if you’ve ever called him by his name before, and you can’t tell if his small flinch is because of that fact or because you cut him off. Both things are bad, both are things you should definitely not be doing to a prince, and both are things you mentally take note to never do again.

“Your Majesty,” you start again, and this time Jimins lips threaten a smile, maybe he’s not as annoyed as you thought. “I love it. Thank you for thinking of me, thank you for buying it for me. You really didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” Jimin fully beams now.

You look back down at the book, flicking through the pages as a form of distraction, as something to do while words evade you. You can feel Jimin's eyes still on you, the smile probably still on his face as he looks at you, and it makes your mind go blank.  

You have no idea why he looks at you like that, no idea why he learnt your name all those weeks ago, why he keeps coming back to you, why he called you in here today, why he bought you this book. None of it adds up in your head. Because he surely doesn’t know about your powers, the only thing you can think that makes you significant enough to remember. Because, if he did, he would not be looking at you like that, you would not be stood here alive, let alone with the prince smiling at you.

It feels wrong. It feels like you’ve somehow deceived him. Tricked him into thinking you are something that you’re not.

“I saw you at the ball,” Jimin finally breaks the silence, his words getting your eyes to look back up at him. “I thought you saw me too,” a small pause as he searches your face. “But then you left. Almost seemed to run away.”

You knew he had seen you, but spending all that time since trying to convince yourself that it was a trick your mind made up has obviously worked. Him confirming he saw you makes you question again why he would have kept glancing back at you. Even when he was dancing with that beautiful woman, he still noticed you running away.

“Part of the joys of my job,” you try to say it coolly even as your heart beats erratically in your chest. “And I was running because there was a medical emergency. Someone chocking on some food.”

A lie. Not a very good one at that. And one that would easily fall apart should he ask literally anyone that was in the room.

“Ah,” Jimin’s eyes glints as he says the word like it explains everything, a cheeky smile on his face showing he knows every word you just said was a lie.

“The woman you were dancing with was beautiful,” you divert to anything that gets the lie out the air.

“Yes, Selena, she is beautiful,” he says easily, the smile still on his face, and even though you will it not to, your heart still drops in your chest.

“A very pretty dress,” you carry on, for god only knows what reason.

Jimin cocks his head to the side slightly. “Yes, I suppose it was.”

“Yes,” is the only word that comes out your mouth.

You suddenly feel hot, too hot in this now cramped feeling room. You look down at the book, then around at the still messy room, to the ajar door and then back to Jimin whose eyes are still on you. Your fingers twitch on the cover of the book at the look in his eyes. He looks like he’s calculating something, like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to work out. And it’s only now that you realise how stupid you’re being. Living out a fantasy you could never have, talking to a prince that would kill you if he found out about your hidden powers. It wasn’t worth it.

You glance back to the door, your escape route, as if to check that the way there is still clear. You should have left five minutes ago when you were questioning why he was being kind to you, when you thought about how he must not know about your powers. You shouldn’t have even come into this room, you should have made up an excuse about work and been on your way. So many things you should have done, but didn’t. Well, now they will be added to your ever-growing list of things not to do around the prince.

“I should go,” you say eyes still on the open door.

“Oh?”

“I have work to do,” you draw your eyes back to Jimin and are surprised to see sadness there.

“Of course,” he recovers quickly. “Well thanks for stopping for as long as you did. And sorry for keeping you so long.”

An apology from a prince, you would never have thought you’d see the day.

“It’s no bother,” you reply, already starting to pick your way across his room. At the door you turn back to look at him stood in the spot you left him. “And thank you for the book, Your Majesty,” you give a small bow and don’t wait for a response as you turn and leave his room.

You rush back to the healing rooms. And try and fail to not think about the prince and the encounter you just had. When safely back in your room you hide the book he gave you so that no one would be able to find it even if they tried.  

It’s easier said than done, avoiding the prince. For all the years you have lived here, all the time you have never seen him, let alone spoken to him, all it seemed to take was for him to barge into your room that one day and now you can’t seem to not see him.

Small cuts, bruises, even a fractured bone at one point; over the next month, Jimin comes to your room with everything. Every time you tell him that the infirmary is the place that he should go, that or ask for someone to treat him in his room. And every time he dismisses you and sits on the chair that now basically belongs to him.

You try to keep a barrier up, try to treat him as if he is any other patient. But he is so charming, so cheeky, so nice, that the task becomes more impossible with every meeting.

“You must not be very good at sparring if you get injuries like this all the time.”

You find it easier to joke with him now too. Find yourself letting your guard down enough to tease him. Find joy in having someone close enough to you that you can tease them. You’re still wary of the man, still conscious of his position and that you shouldn’t get close to him, but, nothing bad has happened yet. And what was the harm in light hearted banter?

“You should come and train with me if you think you can do any better,” Jimin huffs out a laugh as he watches your fingers wrap bandages around his hands.

This time small cuts on his palms. Not something you would necessarily associate as a sparring accident. But then, you knew nothing about the sport and couldn’t exactly question the prince after he had told you that’s how it had happened.

“Train with you, or train you?” You say, a smirk rising to your lips.

You’re rewarded with another laugh. “At this rate, definitely train me.” A small pause and then, “have you ever trained?”

You shake your head, no. Finishing tying the bandages around his hands, stepping back to look at your work before turning to start cleaning everything up.

“Would you like to learn?” His question sounds out from behind you.

“I’ve never thought about it,” you say honestly. “Why would a healer need to know how to use a sword?”

“You never know,” he replies. “Better safe than sorry.”

You focus on cleaning. Was this his way of telling you to take up sword fighting? That you needed to learn to protect yourself.

“I could teach you if you wanted,” your heart swoons at the unsure tone he uses, and when you turn to look at him, his demeanour reflects the tone.

You smile at him, moved by the fact he would offer, though wholly unsure as to why he would offer.

“Is a prince allowed to teach a commoner like me how to fight?”

He shrugs. “I guess it’s the perk of being in charge; I get to make the rules.”

Your smile widens. You have no idea why he is suggesting it. Is it because he honestly thinks you should learn self-defence, or because he wants to spend more time with you? You’re not sure which option is better, you know which you hope it is, but you were trying to put distance between the two of you not get closer.

Which is why you are unsure why the next words come out of your mouth.

“I’ll do a deal with you,” he lifts his eyebrow, curious. “If you let me help you clean your room, then I will let you teach me.”

Maybe you think it will be enough to get him to turn you down. You had asked about it every time you saw him. Has he cleaned his room? Mentioned how much better he’d feel if his room was clean. Every time he waved you off. But it wasn’t wise, offering to spend more and more time in his presence. It was like you were signing your own death warrant.

“Ok, you have yourself a deal, Y/N,” Jimin stands up from the chair, wide smile on his face. “I will send a schedule to your rooms.”

You can only nod. A bloody schedule? You will have a schedule as to when you will see the prince? Jimin must misread the look in your eyes.

“I will have someone clear it all with your supervisor too. You know, so it won’t affect your work here.”

You nod again. You hadn’t even considered that. Helen and the girls are going to give you a tough time for this. But you guess it is too late to back out of it now. And some small part of you is secretly excited about it.

“Then I will see you in the training room,” Jimin smiles at you, making his way to the door.

“Just make sure the time spent training and cleaning are equal,” are the last words you shout at him as he heads through the door. You only see the smile on his lips before he disappears completely.

Sure enough, a schedule is delivered to your bedroom. And sure enough, the time between cleaning and training is divided evenly. Training every other morning and cleaning every other evening. Seeing it written down so formally makes you feel a bit queasy as to what you’ve signed yourself up to.

And the feeling is not helped when you turn up to work and Helen immediately tracks you down.

“So you need self-defence classes now?” She waves a piece of paper around, no doubt your new ‘schedule’. “And when have you ever cleaned anything in your life?”

“Hey,” you frown at her. “I keep my room clean.”

“Oh right, yeah, like the rest of us. I didn’t realise that meant you wanted to become an actual cleaner. But don’t worry, I’ll go tell Patricia now, I’m sure she would love to add you to the rota.”

“And you never know when you might need to defend yourself,” you ignore her, repeating Jimins words, albeit with less assurance.

“Again, you act as if you don’t live in a palace with a literal army protecting it.”

“Jimin asked me to,” you say as a final retort, but watching her face contort makes you think it was the worst possible way you could have defended yourself.

“Jimin? It’s Jimin now, is it?” Her voice is high and squeaky and you worry that the top of her head might explode off.

“I – uh – I meant the prince. I don’t call him Jimin to his face.”

“You better not,” she shouts, before pausing, seeming to need a second to calm down. “Y/N, I just – I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You’ve said that before,” it’s your turn to be annoyed.

“Well it’s true.”

“Because the prince has a reputation? Because the prince is going to break my heart? Because I’m so weak you don’t think I can protect myself, don’t think I can see when someone might be using me and get out of the situation?”

“Y/N,” she says, half warning, half apologetic.

“No, Helen, I know what I’m doing. Thanks for the concern and all, but the prince asked me to do this and I couldn’t exactly turn him down. It’s nothing more than me doing my job.”

She doesn’t seem to buy the words the same way you don’t fully buy them. But you stand by them, don’t try to take them back. Helen doesn’t say the words that are clearly running through her mind either.

“I don’t want to fall out with you,” she finally says, her voice the softest it’s been. “I’ll authorise this,” she flaps the paper. “But know that I am here for you Y/N. I’m not trying to be your enemy. If you want out, I can get you out.”

“Thank you,” you say, nodding your head, genuinely meaning the words.

Helen flicks her eyes around the room, before settling back on you. An awkwardness you have never felt with her has settled and it unnerves you.  

“I’ll let you get back to work,” is all she says before she is marching out of your room.

The cleaning and training are definitely not good ideas. In fact, you are pretty certain that it is the stupidest idea you have ever had. You deem this within five seconds of turning up to your first training session.

Jimin, stood in leathers so tight that it literally leaves nothing to the imagination. A white billowing shirt unbuttoned so low that again, you wonder if there is any need for the item. He flips a small knife as he perches against a table, the throw so precise you can’t believe that any of the injuries he’s received in the last month he’s been turning up to your room were because of training accidents. But those thoughts disappear as soon as his gaze lands on you and a smile lights up his face.

You are made even more certain of your shitty decisions when you turn up to help clean his room. This activity is at least a lot more fun for you then training is. Here it’s Jimin that suffers the most. Though when you find discarded underwear and items of clothing you can’t imagine him wearing, you do become a bit flustered. Still, it’s fun to watch Jimin dart across the room and snatch the items from him, cheeks flushed pink.

But as stupid as it was for you to say yes to the deal, you can’t help but grow close to Jimin.

For a commoner and a prince, you have a surprising amount in common. But even if you didn’t, you imagine Jimin would be easy to talk to, so laid back and happy, that you imagine a conversation with him would be easy even if you had no similar interests. You can see how he makes a good prince, how he will make a good king one day.

A month passes, and though you don’t feel like your sword fighting has improved, you feel stronger. And it surprisingly seems to help with your magic. Whether because you feel happier, less alone, your mind stronger, or whether it’s because your body is stronger, you don’t know, but you can summon flames easier now, can make them last longer.

It’s when you’re in his room late one night, doing the final bits to clean his room that you realise that the deal will be ending soon. You could continue to train with him, but you know enough basic skills to defend yourself, and now his room is clean, all he needed to do was keep it that way, and wasn’t that the deal from the start? You had no reason to keep coming back to him after this. Even a month has felt too long. You’ll admit you dragged it out, but if Jimin noticed, he didn’t say anything. Maybe he enjoyed your company as much as you enjoy his.

You’re sat on the floor in front of his book shelf, putting the last few books on the shelf in a system he made up. Jimin is sat on the bed watching you, much as he always does. As even though the deal was that you would help him clean, it turned out that you basically did it all yourself, him bossing you from his seat on the bed.

The room is dark, the night having fully set in, the room only lit by a few candles. You spin on your bum when the last book is on the shelf, eyes scanning the room that is unrecognisable from when you first walked in all those weeks ago. The décor still isn’t what you would imagine from a royal, but the cleanliness is at least now what you’d expect.

“So now it’s all how you want it will you let the maids in to clean?” You look across the room to Jimin.

“I was hoping you’d keep coming back.”

“We’ve discussed this,” you say flatly, now completely comfortable with being blunt with the man. “I have another job I need to do. Plus, now you can just tell the maids to clean and put everything back where it is now and you’ll know where it is.”

“I’d still rather you,” he says lightly, and your heart gives a flutter, but you just roll your eyes at him.

You don’t answer him, you’ve been through it enough times for him to know your opinion. And as easy as it would be, as much as you want to stay here and keep coming back, you know you need to take a step back from him.

You put your hands flat on the ground, meaning to push yourself up from the ground, but before you can move Jimin is jumping from his spot on the bed. It’s not uncommon for him you offer you a hand from your spot on the ground, but the few times you’ve accepted, it’s never made it easier. His warm, calloused hand wrapping around yours. The strength you feel as he easily tugs you from your spot. The way when you stand up, your bodies are so close they’re nearly touching, and his hands lingers in yours, his eyes so close you can see all the strands of colour. It’s all a lot. And this time is no easier than any of the other times.

He pulls you up, and this time when you’re chest to chest with him he doesn’t step away as quickly as he normally does. He doesn’t step away at all, doesn’t drop your hand from his, doesn’t let you step away from him. He stares down at you, his breath mingling with yours at the closeness.

The atmosphere in the room has shifted in an instant. There were always a few times when you felt like you could sense that Jimin might like you a bit more than a friend, a bit more than the servant you are. But none as much as now.

“I’ll miss you,” he whispers out into the room, and again your heart flutters.

“I’ll still be in the palace,” you say as coolly as you can, feeling none of the emotions you’re trying to portray.

“But you won’t be here. You won’t be in the training ring.”

You’d told him a few days ago that when the cleaning was finished you also wanted to finish your training, and he hadn’t taken it well. Had moped around as if you had told him you were leaving to go to another city. He had tried to persuade you to carry on seeing him, and when you had turned that down, had made no secret of how upset he was.

It would have been sweet had you not known that you could never be friends with him. Not because of the differing statuses you held, because that alone would be hard, but because of who you are, the magic that runs in your blood and the fact of who his mother is.

“I’ll be in the healing rooms when you injure yourself,” you say simply.

He gives a small nod, no smile on his lips.

“I’ll still miss you,” he says again.

You don’t reply. It will be easier if you don’t. Easier if you don’t show how much this is all affecting you.

His eyes flick around your face, as if trying to take in every detail, as if trying to memorise it all while he can.

“Will you miss me?” He asks.

You swallow. His hand still holds yours. His chest is still inches from yours. His breath almost fanning your face.

You can only nod. You know if you speak now your voice will come out husky with desire and will give away your feelings completely. But the fact you nod, the fact you don’t speak seems to give you away just as much.

Jimin hums, a small smile toying with his lips for the first time, and when you see his eyes flick down and linger on your lips your heart stutters.

He lifts the hand not holding yours to brush some hair from your face and you freeze. Unable to move as he leans towards you. Don’t do anything as his brush lightly against yours. Not quite a kiss, but definitely something. And when you don’t move, he must decide that it’s ok, because he’s diving in deeper, kissing you, moving his lips against yours as his hands pull you flush against his toned body.

Your mind takes longer than it should to realise what’s happening, to realise who you’re kissing. You try to reason that you don’t kiss him back, but if you’re being honest your lips definitely move against his. But it doesn’t last long, not as long as you’d like at least, because when you realise what’s happening you step away from him. Jimins hands tighten for a second, not realising what’s happening, but they go slack when he sees your face.

He lets you step away from him. And as he attempts to calm you down you can only imagine the look on your face. Eyes wide, swimming with the shock you’re feeling. Skin drained of colour at the thought of how stupid you’ve been.

“Y/N,” Jimin says soothingly, as if trying to calm a scared animal.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” you blurt out, eyes looking for the nearest exit.

“It wasn’t you, it was me,” he holds up his hands, his feet poised, as if ready to leap and catch you when you dart.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” you finally locate the door, ready to bolt.

“Y/N,” Jimin tries again, seeing that his time is limited, but you don’t look at him. “We should at least talk about this.”

“I have nothing to say,” you glance at him and think you see hurt flick across his face. “I’m sorry. It was a mistake. I should never have come here. I need to go.”

The words flow out of you. Any words that you can think of that might help the matter come out your mouth. You start to move to the door, having to pass Jimin on the way, his hand comes up as if to grab your arm and stop you, but when you jump, he lets it fall back to his side.

“Y/N,” he walks behind you to the door.

“Your room’s all clean now,” you stop at his door, turning to look at him. You attempt to get back on the earlier tracks, go back to before the kiss. It feels an impossible task, a fork in the road taking you too far away to easily go back. “If you need anything, please feel free to call for me, I will gladly be of assistance.”

Jimin just looks at you, sadness, shock, regret, and possibly something else swims in his eyes. His body has sagged as if by an unseen weight as he looks at you. Your heart breaks a little at the thought that you caused all of that. It breaks even more at the thought that you wanted to kiss him back, would gladly have gone to his bed, if it weren’t for who he is, if it weren’t for the fact it was so utterly dangerous for you.

“Your Majesty,” your final parting words as you dip into a bow before him. And when you rise to look at him again, it feels like you have dealt him the final blow. His face now is void of emotion, he is stiff and tense, he is the man that you see whenever he is around an audience, the man that doesn’t let people in, this is the man that he shows people he is not close to.

Even as your heart gives another crack, threatening to split down the middle, you turn and leave the room.

You race to your bedroom. Shut the door behind you, but still try not to let yourself feel as you ready for bed. Don’t let yourself think about what happened.

You don’t go to training the next day. Don’t go to Jimin’s bedroom to clean his room. Your deal is off, and in the days you missed your schedule you never receive any letter from the prince requesting your presence. You see him around the halls of the palace, see him from a distance. He always smiles at you, you exchange small hellos, but never more than that.

Every time you see him the cracks in your heart show themselves again. You want to tell him how much you want him, how much you enjoyed kissing him, how much you wish you didn’t run that night, but you don’t. If he were anyone else, if you were anyone else, maybe things would be different. But you are you, and he is him. You can’t do anything to change that.

You go back to the girl the prince doesn’t know nor care about. And though it’s what you wanted, though it’s what’s best, you can’t help but feel sadder and lonelier than ever.

Your bedroom door flies open. You’re glad you aren’t getting dressed as the person seems to have a lack of regard for the fact. You turn to tell them as much, but the words die in your throat when you see Jimin panting at your door. It’s been nearly a month since that night you kissed.

His arms are braced on the door frame, chest heaving up and down, eyes wild as they struggle to focus on anything. Your eyes dart up and down his body, looking for blood, for any indication that the man is hurt.

“Y/N,” Jimin pants out your name. “You need to come. Now.”

He’s already starting to back away, slowly, watching to check that you are following. You are obviously moving too slow for him as he barks out that you need to hurry up. It’s enough to get your legs moving.

“Jimin,” you say when you step out the door.

He doesn’t wait, turning to lead you to whatever it is that has put him in this state. He ignores you as you call his name a second time, but when you jog lightly so that you can put a hand on his shoulder, he at least looks at you.

“Jimin, what’s going on?”

He’s still walking, fast, you have to maintain a light job to keep stride with him. His eyes are still wild, wide and full of shock and your heart rate remains high. Still, he doesn’t answer you.

“Do I need anything? Bandages? Medicine? Supplies?” Your voice comes out stronger, realising that it might be the only way to get through to him.

“I – uh – I,” Jimin looks into the distance, looks to where you imagine the thing that is causing this lies. “Supplies. You'll need supplies. Though I am unsure what.”

You give him a firm nod. All the information you need, or all the information you deem you will get from him. You take the lead from him, leading him through the halls to your healing room. You bang open the door and don’t waste any time in gathering up the few bits you decide you might need. From the way Jimin is reacting, you can tell you can’t waste any time.

“Where to?” Is your only prompt that you’re ready to leave and that he should lead the way.

He doesn’t need any more words. Again, you have to do a small jog to keep up with the man. He leads you round bends and hallways you have never seen before. Up small staircases that are barely wide enough for you. And before you know it, you’re popping out into a room. Not just any room, Jimin’s room.

Secret hallways and secret staircases leading right to the prince's room. What the hell is going on?

Jimin doesn’t wait for you anymore. Now he has reached his destination he flies across the room, almost skids across the ground as he comes to his knees, and then you see what has caused Jimin to be in such a state.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispers as he puts the girls head in his lap. “I’m back now. I’m so sorry. I’ve brought help.”

His words are gentle, the same way that his hands are as he pushes hair out of her face. The same girl you watched Jimin dance with all those nights ago at the ball. Selena, you think Jimin called her.

You keep walking as you take in the scene, albeit slower now. A puddle of blood is forming under the girl. Her skin leached of its colour indicating just how much blood she has lost. But her eyes are still open, her chest still rising up and down. Not dead yet.

You kneel next to her, not caring if you are getting her blood on you or not. Your eyes try and assess her body, try to find what is causing all the blood to pour out of her. And then you see it. Her hand is at least attempting to apply pressure to the wound in her side, but in her state, you doubt it will be enough.

You lift her hand, look at the deep, dark cut underneath, and then apply firmer pressure of your own. You are well out of your depth here. You should have called for some more experienced healers the second you saw what state Jimin was in. You contemplate running back for help now, but you’ve already wasted so much time, and one look at Jimins face tells you that he asked you and only you here for a reason.

“What happened?” You ask.

“An accident,” is the only answer Jimin provides.

You nod, now is not the time to start probing for more detail. You lift your hand again, get another look at the wound, and then look down at the supplies you have brought.

You could stitch her up; clean the wound and then sew the cut shut. But that wouldn’t necessarily stop the bleeding. No, this wound was deep. Even if you sew the external wound there may still be internal bleeding. There wasn’t much you could do for that.

“Can you do anything?” Jimin asks softly as if he doesn’t want Selena to hear him.

Can you do anything? Not with your limited experience. You doubt any of the more experienced healers would be able to do much either. But they would at least try, so you would too.

And there was something you could do. You’ve never tried it on a human before, but you knew what to do in theory. But you couldn’t do it with the prince here, couldn’t use your healing powers to help the girl. You weren’t sure if that was selfish. Saving your own life at the loss of another's. But you weren’t even sure if it would work, you reason, it could not work and then you have damned both of you.

“Anything,” Jimin says, as if reading the thoughts in your head. “Anything. Do anything. Please.”

Anything. Did he really mean in? He surely couldn’t realise what he was begging you to do. If he did, he would surely not be asking it of you.

You look from Jimins face back down to the wound that is still producing blood. If you were going to do something then you were running out of time.

“Please,” Jimin whispers. “Please just save her.”

One last look at his face has you deciding. The look you find is almost enough to shatter your heart. The prince looks utterly broken as he continues to hold Selena’s head in his lap.

You give a small nod at him and can almost see the breath he was holding release itself from his body. But then you are moving before you can see much more. You sit on the other side of her, the side with the wound. You clear the area of any fabric, lifting her top far enough up her body so that the wound is in clear sight, and then you place your hands over the spot.

Are you actually doing this? Are you actually going to use your magic in front of people, something you’ve been avoiding since before you can remember? In front of the prince?

You give Jimin one last look. His face still full of worry, but something else has creeped in, confusion. Uncertainty to what you’re doing. You look away as quickly as you looked to him. You don’t need to see that, probably the last time he will look at you without hatred in his eyes.

You focus on the wound instead. Hands now pressed to the area, you focus your mind there too. It’s like you can see the blood pumping, flowing out of the wound, can see past that, see the severed veins, see how deep the cut goes into her.

You feel like you disappear from the room, your mind taking you into the girl's body. You focus as you knit everything back together, stem the flow of blood, try as best as you can to heal Selena. It takes what feels like hours but must only be minutes if not seconds. Your body drains of energy as you pour everything you have into what you’re doing.

And even when you reach the skin, even when you get to the final layer of the wound and knit all that back together, you still worry that you haven’t done it right, that there might have been a spot you missed. But you’ve done the best you can.

You feel like you return to your body, opening your eyes you look down at the wound. Not exactly invisible, not as good as it could be if it were done perfectly, but good enough considering.

You trail a finger across the spot where the blood poured out a minute ago. Then you look up to her chest, still rising and falling in shallow breaths, still alive. Your eyes keep going. Her eyes are closed, no doubt passed out from you stitching her up with your magic. And then you reach the man that is still holding her.

You only look as high as his chest, unwilling and unable to see the look on his face.

“We should move her to the bed,” you say softly, the words sounding loud in the quiet room.

You stand, before bending at the waist so that you can lift the girl up. You don’t stand a chance of supporting her weight on your own, but you also don’t want to wait around for Jimin to help you.

"Ok,” Jimin says, getting the hint and standing up on the other side so that he can help you get Selena onto his bed.

She’s not overly heavy, but she’s still a dead weight in your arms. Her feet drag along the floor as you pull her the few feet across the floor, a trail of blood left in her wake. You get her onto the bed and position her on her back. Check her wound one last time before you have to face the inevitable.

Jimin stands next to you and you can still barely look him in the eye, instead you focus on his chest, causing your head to be bowed to him. You swallow, clearing your throat.

“She should be ok, but she’s lost a lot of blood. I will get someone to bring some medicine up that should help, but she needs to take it easy for a few days. If the wound re-opens or anything seems out of the ordinary, please take her to the infirmary.”

There’s a small pause and you assume that he isn’t going to say anything, but then he speaks. “And how will I explain what happened?”

You risk a look at his face. Emotionless, he has schooled his features in a way that you can’t read what he is feeling. But you see some betrayal there, his eyes looking at you as if he has never seen you before.

“The same way you explained how she got the cut to me,” you reply flatly. Pissed off that he called you here, didn’t tell you anything and then refused to explain what had happened. Begged you to do anything, and now looks at you with disgust in his eyes.

You don’t really blame him, it was shock after shock for him tonight. But you had just saved that girls life, his friend, his girlfriend, his lover, you didn’t really care anymore, you’d done what he had asked. And you hadn’t even received a thanks.

Yeah, pissed off didn’t really cover all the emotions currently swimming around in you.

He knew you, you thought you’d grown close over the last few months, and yet you do one thing and it can flip the tide so quickly. You should have seen it coming, the day that Jimin would find out the truth about you and never look at you the same, but you had pushed it away so now it feels like your heart is cracking open.

Jimin looks away from you, looks to the spot where the girl once lay, looks at the puddle of blood that is seeping into his floor. Just when he had managed to maintain a clean room, this happens.

“I can get someone to come up and clean that,” you say softer this time, and when Jimin looks at you, you carry on. “They won’t say anything. Just come and clean the area and leave.”

He shakes he head, no. And when he looks back at you, you realise you have outstayed your welcome.

You give a small bow before twisting and leaving his room, this time leaving through the main door, not trusting yourself to retrace the way Jimin led you. You give one glance back at the door. Jimin still stands looking at you, his mouth opens slightly as if he is about to say something, but you don’t give him a chance to get the words out, simply turn and leave the room.

You worry all night that guards will appear at the door to whisk you away. But they don’t, and your little to no sleep means that when you turn up to breakfast you feel like you could sleep in your porridge.

Still adrenaline courses through you at the thought that guards could come for you at any point. The door opening with anyone’s arrival makes you jump every time, makes you believe that someone is coming for you.

You make it through minute by minute, feeling like each one is borrowed time, that each one will be your last. But you don’t come up with much of a plan. You know you need to get out of here and as soon as possible, but it won’t be as easy to just get up and go. No, it will need a few days if not weeks of planning, far more time than you feel like you have.

You try to carry on with your day as normally as you can. Add the potions you said you would get for Selena to Jimins room, request some of the jobs that would get you far from the castle; picking herbs, scouting for flowers in the forest, all undesirable jobs, but for you, all seemingly safer jobs.

You’re so shattered by the end of the day that you fall into a deep sleep.

It’s unnerving when no one comes for you after a few days. You don’t see Jimin, you don’t see any guards, you hardly see anyone. Probably because you easily get the jobs you requested, going out into the forests that surround the city to look for ingredients for potions.

Alone in the world, you plan out your escape.  

You would go back to your home village. It wouldn’t make your parents happy. They had sent you here years ago hoping you’d be safe, but you know when they hear why you’re back, you know they won’t be angry for long. There wouldn’t be work at home, at least nothing quite like the work you do at the palace, but that would be something you could work out later.

Plans made in the woods start to become a reality in the evenings when you go back to the palace. First, you try and find some way to get passage home. Or at least safely out of the city. When that is done, you try to work out what you will have to leave behind, what won’t be able to fit on the journey. You work through your room, trying to squeeze as much as you can into as small a space as you can manage. While a lot of things don’t make the cut, you can’t help but keep the book Jimin gave you, a little piece of him you can take with you.

As soon as your transport has been found and booked, everything seems to fly. You have four days before you have to leave, and though that’s not much time to give notice of your leave, you don’t tell Helen you’re leaving straight away. Probably bad, probably not what you’re supposed to do, but you don’t tell her that you’re leaving until you have two days left.

She is unsurprisingly upset. Confused as to why you are leaving so suddenly. Concerned that something bad might have happened to scare you away. But you try your best to reassure her. Leaving coupled with your strange behaviour of requesting jobs far from the palace, jobs everyone hates due to the long days, makes it hard to reassure her. There are tears and hugs and promises that if something is really wrong you can speak to her and she can help.

Unfortunately, and even though you protest against it a lot, Helen doesn’t let you do work away from the palace for your remaining days. You sulk, but understand that she needs you to finish off some bits in your work room before you leave.

In the palace you become more nervous again, worried that any noise in the hallways is someone coming to your door, someone who would whisk you away to stand trial for what you’ve done. But much like every other day since healing Selena, no one comes for you. You don’t know if that affects you more than not hearing anything.

It’s late when you head back to your room. The hallways dark and quiet. It makes you feel sad that you have limited walks back left. Now you’ve told Helen it all feels real. You’re leaving the palace, leaving the job that you have grown to love, leaving the place you call home and the people you have grown to love and feel like family. Sad doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion that swims through you as you head back to your room.

You want to stay, and the fact that no one has come for you gives you a false sense of security. Just because no one had come for you yet doesn’t mean they won’t. You’ve been stupid up until now, you needed to be smarter from now, start thinking with your head not your heart.

You go the long way back to your room, feeling nostalgic, wanting to take in as much as you can before you go, wanting to remember this place.

You hardly notice your door is cracked open when you approach, so lost in your own little bubble. Don’t notice that the light is already on until you’re already opening the door. Don’t think anyone is already in your room until you see them sat on your bed.

You go stiff as Jimin leaps up from the bed. You don’t move, but your hand remains on the door, keeping it open, ready to turn and bolt at the smallest of signs. Jimin must sense this, or at least have guessed this would be your reaction. His hands are flat as if to show you he isn’t holding anything, acting the way you would around a scared animal you don’t want to run. But when you take in his face you can’t help when your heart pangs. His eyes are puffy and red, his skin pale making the blue circles under his eyes stand out more. His hair is a mess, not the usual groomed look. He doesn’t look good, he looks ill, worried, harrowing.

“You’re leaving?” His first words, and his voice echo's the look on his face.

“I – uh – I just got here,” you say weakly, annoyed you sound so weak.

Jimin shakes his head, not what he meant. “You’re leaving the palace. You’ve quit your job.”

Not what you had expected. He came here to talk to you about this? You had expected him to corner you and confront you about the magic he had seen you perform and yet he was asking you about the fact you are leaving? Moreover, he is surprised you are leaving?

“I didn’t think you’d find out,” you say, unable to think of anything else to say.

“I’m the prince. I’m in charge of the palace, can fire and hire anyone as I chose. I’m basically your boss. Of course, I know you’re leaving.”

Ok, fair point. You heat at the blatant facts he throws at you, but try not to let it affect you, try to picture him as the boy you had learnt he is and not the prince who could ruin your life.

“I more meant, I didn’t think you would care,” you instantly regret the words. Of course he would care, he wouldn’t want you leaving the palace with what he knows about you, wouldn’t want you escaping.

But, again, Jimin doesn’t react the way you expect to the words. His hands drop, he relaxes, his eyes soften, his head tilting to the side slightly as he regards you.

“Why wouldn’t I care?”

It feels like a trick, something you shouldn’t answer. And when it becomes clear you won’t say anything Jimin collapses again. This time he takes a seat on your bed, eyes still looking at you, but now looking even less threatening. He couldn’t as easily grab you now, and the thought makes you relax a little in your spot at the door.

“I should have come to you sooner,” he says. “I should have thanked you for saving Selena. I should have made it clear that the magic doesn’t scare me, that I’m thankful for what you did, that although I was a bit shocked, I still see you as you, that I don’t want you to leave.”

You feel yourself sagging with every unexpected word, so much so that you have to sit down in the chair in the corner of your room. All this time you had worried he was going to send you to the Queen, and yet here he is telling you the complete opposite. It seemed impossible that the woman that had created the law banning magic was this man's mother.

“What?” You whisper out, the word nearly getting caught in your throat.

“I didn’t think you wanted to see me,” the words are almost laughable, sure, you didn’t want to see him, but not because it was him, because of what trouble he could bring. “After I kissed you, you bolted. You were so scared. And you avoided me after it. I didn’t want to push you, so I let you be. But when the accident happened. I didn’t think twice before I came here, you are one of the only people I trust, I couldn’t ask anyone else. But I still didn’t expect you to do what you did.”

It’s funny to hear something you’ve lived through from someone else's perspective. Funny to hear that he was over thinking everything just as much as you.

“I thought you’d report me,” you admit.

He shakes his head as if offended by the words. “No,” he says as if to affirm the fact. A deep sigh comes out of him and he runs a hand down his face. Stressed, he is so unbelievably stressed, and you have no idea why.

“Jimin,” the soft way you say his name is enough to catch his attention, his wide eyes look back up at you. “What’s going on? What happened to Selena? Why wouldn’t you report me?”

Too many questions. Too many things that don’t add up. And the more you think about it, the more you realise that not much has made sense since you met Jimin. Not just because he was a prince, but everything else, him barging into your room that first day, all those cuts that surely didn’t come from training, and Selena and that accident that had nearly caused her death. You’d thought it was weird but hadn’t read too much into it until now, seeing Jimin looking like a man falling apart at the seams.

“I – uh – I’m in real trouble Y/N.”

Your heart stops at the words and then quickly speeds up.

“What trouble?” You say cautiously.

He runs his hand down his face again. His leg nervously bounces. You can see he’s struggling to get out the words, even though he’s said you’re one of the only people he can trust, he still doesn’t know if he can say the words.

You don’t think as you stand up and go and sit next to him on the bed. You place a hand on his leg, stopping the bouncing, and hoping it grounds him, provides a calming presence for him. It at least gets him to remove the hand from his face. His eyes search your face, now so close you can see all the coloured strands in his eyes, can almost feel his breath as he looks at you.

“Jimin,” you say, his name almost a whisper, heart still pounding. “What’s going on?”

“I heard, about a year ago now, that my mother was doing some questionable things in the kingdom,” Jimin starts. “Trading with kingdoms that don’t have good morals, that many people would class as our enemy not our friends. I decided to find out how true the rumours were. But the more I found out, the closer to the truth I got, the more obvious it was what I was doing. I was hiding that first day I barged into your room. I just found paper work showing my mother had been paid to house some humans being trafficked on the boarder.”

He pauses. Clearly feeling as sick by the information as you do. You don’t speak, unable to form words, but more letting Jimin have the room to breathe, to think through what he had to say.

“Someone saw me in that room and followed me. So I jumped into the nearest empty room; or at least I thought it was empty, but you were in there,” his eyes search your face as if remembering that day, remembering that first day he saw you. “Even though I’d come close to being discovered, I had to keep searching for more evidence, for some solid proof of what my mother is doing. That’s where the cuts and Selena come in. The cuts didn’t come from training, they came from my late nights in the forest tracking people, trying to find secret meetings. The dark didn’t help, hence all the cuts from falling over,” he lets out a small humourless huff of a laugh. “Selena is a lady from a different court. I’ve known her since I was young, and she came to me with evidence she had found about my mother. She didn’t even know I was looking into it myself, but as soon as I saw it, I knew I needed her help. So I invited her here for the ball, and she’s been helping me the last few weeks.”

Another pause, another moment for him to think through what comes next, to push down the emotions you can see bubbling to the surface. You want to tell him it’s ok, that if it’s too hard he doesn’t need to tell you. But you don’t say anything, you want to hear what he has to say.

“And then,” his voice has gone a bit hoarse, his emotions showing more and more as he goes on. “They must have worked out she was helping me. She just turned up at my door with that wound. There was blood everywhere and she collapsed and I didn’t know what to do and I could see she was in so much pain and it was all because of me.”

His words start to come out in a rush, panic rising in his voice as if he’s back in his room with Selena bleeding out on him.

“But then I thought of you,” his eyes widen as they take you in. “I didn’t even think about how selfish I was being dragging you into the mess I’d created. But you – you saved her.”

“She’s ok?” You had assumed she was given you’d heard no news of a woman passing away, but still you wanted to hear him confirm it.

“Of course. You saved her. If it wasn’t for you – for your magic, she’d be dead.”

You let of a sigh. You know the rest. Don’t need to be told anymore, and the silence that follows is evidence of that. It’s so much information, so much to unpack, that you don’t know where to start. Your magic now feels like the least important piece of the puzzle.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a minute. “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. I don’t blame you for leaving. I would too if I –”

“I thought you hated me,” you cut him off.

“What?” He seems genuinely shocked by the statement.

“You begged me to save her, you asked me to do anything, but I didn’t think you meant magic, and yet I still used it. I thought you hated me because I broke the law. I thought you would be disgusted by the fact I have powers that are outlawed, punishable by death.”

He places his hand on top of yours before flipping it over, lacing your fingers together. A sign of trust, a sign that he isn’t afraid to hold you, touch you, be near you even with everything he knows. You swallow the emotions that build in your throat.

“I’m not my mother,” he says firmly, the only answer you really need.

“I never thought you were, but so many people agree with her, I thought that –”

“Well I don’t” he squeezes your hand firmly in his. “I’m actually a tad jealous. Who doesn’t dream of producing fire, creating rain, sewing up wounds?”

Your heart flutters, a seemingly natural occurrence whenever Jimin’s attention is on you. Especially when he talks like that. You’ve never really had anyone say anything positive about your magic. The law was put in place when you were young so you can’t remember a time when people weren’t afraid of it. Your parents tried to protect you, scolded you if you used it in public, hid you away to teach you any basics they knew, they never praised you. Since moving away it’s been like a dirty little secret, no one knew what you could do, and you had no doubt that if they did, they wouldn’t look at you the way Jimin is currently looking at you.

“But you’re a prince,” is your lame response. “Doesn’t everyone want to be a prince?”

A smile flickers on Jimins lips and your heart soars. That was the Jimin you knew, happy, smiling, not this sad, worried man that sits in front of you.

“Being a prince isn’t all it’s made out to be,” he shrugs his shoulders, you hand still in his.

“I don’t know. All those dances, getting to live in a palace, all those women lining up to have you,” you look down at your intwined hands, unable to look him in the eyes any more.

“You get to go to the dances last I saw.”

“As a healer, as part of my job, not to dance and have fun,” you cut in quickly.

“You live in the palace too,” he carries on as if not hearing you.

“Not quite the same is it,” you look around your room, probably the same size as his wardrobe.

“And I thought I already told you I don’t get many visitors to my room, that includes females you know?”

You’d fiddle with your nails if your hand wasn’t intwined with Jimins. Nerves bubble in you at the tone he used and you know if you look up his eyes would be on you. But you keep your head down, eyes on your hands.

“Don’t have visitors to your room, doesn’t rule out you going to others,” you say, unsure why you’re even pushing the matter. “Plus, Selena’s been in your room.”

A small chuckle is enough for you to look up at Jimin. His face is transformed. The redness is still in his eyes, the blue bags under his eye still give away how tired he must be, but there’s now also a lightness, a happiness that wasn’t there when you entered your room.

“You’ve been in my room too,” he says.

“Yeah, again, not the same,” you flush.

“Yeah, true,” a large, cheeky smile spreads across his face and you dread the words you can tell are coming. “I never kissed Selena in my room. Not the same at all.”

“I – we hardly – I didn’t mean,” you stumble over your words in a rush to get them out, but Jimin’s hand squeezing yours is enough to shut you up.

“It was a joke,” he says. “Though, I wouldn’t complain if we did it again. This time maybe without you running away after?”

“You honestly don’t care that I have magic?” You do a 180, attempting to change course in conversation and get back on track.

“I honestly don’t care,” he says. “If anything, it’s nice to know I’m not the only one harbouring some massive secret.”

“What are you going to do about your mum?”

“I don’t know,” Jimin sags, and you’re sat so close that when he leans forward he can rest his forehead on your shoulder. You don’t move, don’t push him off, let him stay there and try to enjoy the contact. “She had guards follow me,” he admits, and you remember seeing him in the hall with those two guards, you assumed they were for his own safety but maybe not. “I didn’t let anyone clean my room in case one of them was feeding information back about the documents I kept there. She’s my mum, yet I was terrified when I had to sit next to her at that ball.”

It feels natural to bring your hand up to the back of Jimins head. Your nails lightly scratch through his hair and you can almost feel the tension draining out of him.

“I can’t believe I dragged you into all of this,” he whispers into your shoulder.

You peel your hand from his, bringing it to one side of his face while your other hand goes to the other side. Gently, you lift his head off your shoulder. You search his face, this man that had scared you, but had also made you feel so loved, had filled that lonely hole in you, had made you feel happy. A prince, a future king, but still just a man. Someone who’s just as scared as you.

“I can help,” you say, and then a bit more firmly, “let me help.”

“I can’t let you do that Y/N, you’ve already –”

“I’m helping you,” you cut him off.

“But,” he’s gone back to looking tired, soft almost. “I thought you were leaving.”

An echo of the first words he said when you came in, and they break your heart now just as much as they did a few minutes ago.

“I can stay a bit longer,” you give him a small smile.

“I don’t have a plan,” he carries on in the same broken tone.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“If she finds out about your magic,” he doesn’t need to finish the sentence, you both know what will happen.

“She’s not found out so far,” you carry on, sounding more certain than you feel.

Jimin doesn’t reply to that and you wonder if he’s run out of reasons for you to not help him. Part of you wants him to convince you to run, while another part wants him to keep telling you to stay. But in the end you have to decide. And this time you know you won’t run, this time you know you’ll take the time to enjoy it.

Hands still holding his face, you lean in and press your lips against Jimin’s. It starts off as soft as your previous kiss, lips just brushing up against one another. But then Jimin deepens it, his hand comes to your waist, dragging you closer across the bed so that your bodies are flush against each other. His lips move against yours, pulling your bottom lip between his, tilting his head so he can get the perfect angle. He tastes like honey and sweets and happiness.

“You really should not be here when this all blows up.”

Two months later and it feels like a common phrase that Jimin keeps saying to you. You don’t even reply, firmly holding your ground at his side, you’d told him no verbally enough times that he didn’t need to hear it another time now.

His sigh tells you everything you need to know; he’s not happy about you being here, but he won’t ask you to leave again.

He’ll have to suck up his distaste, because of all the things you’ve done over the past two months, you are not missing out on this. The end, the moment you reveal all the evidence you have gathered, the moment you bring down the queen. You wouldn’t miss it for the world.

After Jimin came to your room two months ago, after you both spoke about your feelings rather than ran away from them, you decided you needed to stay, couldn’t go home. You re-started your schedule, but this time, instead of cleaning the prince’s room in the evenings, you planned.  

It turned out Jimin had far more evidence on what the queen was doing than you would have anticipated. Paperwork on deals made, figures listing how many humans the queen had harboured in her lands before shipping them off to be slaves or worse elsewhere. Everything made you feel sick, everything only deepened your hatred for the woman, but also, everything made your heart bleed for Jimin; you don’t know what you would do if you found out your mother was doing this.

Even though Jimin had a hoard of evidence, you took your time to work out the details of your plan. You couldn’t just barrel in with what you had, you’d risk not having enough and giving yourself away only to lose. No, if you were going to do this, it needed to be a solid plan, something the queen couldn’t wriggle out of.

And while you work out your plan, you feel yourself fall deeper in love with Jimin. You’re still unbelievably scared, but with everything now out in the open and him not running in the opposite direction, you let yourself open up to him. He knows you at your best and at your worst, knows all your secrets and still he stays by your side. You never thought anyone would accept you for who you really are, least of all the prince, but you guess stranger things have happened.

Now, stood outside the council meeting room, everything set up, you feel hope, excitement, pride, but no nerves. Jimin by your side, you know things could go south, but you feel none of that worry stood by the man you love.

As Jimin knocks on the large wooden door, he slips his hand into yours and you let him, give his warm calloused hand a small, comforting squeeze. You’re rewarded with a smile before the door opens.

Everyone in the room expects you, that is, except the queen. Sat at the opposite end of the table to where you stand, you watch as her eyes widen at the sight of you, her eyes flicking down to where your hands are joined. She tries to school her features into neutral, but isn’t quick enough.

“Jimin,” her voice is flat, again trying not to give away her surprise, but failing. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Gentlemen. Mother,” Jimin says, nodding at people around the table as you both step up to the end.  

Everyone looks nervous. The men shuffle papers around as if to look busy, while Jimin and the queen seem to just stare each other down.

“I’ve come because I have some interesting documents I thought might be of use,” Jimin easily slips into the royal prince you hardly ever see when you’re around him. But still, he holds your hand firmly in his, a little life line to the man you know him to be.

“You can show them to me later Jimin, we are busy here,” the queen finally breaks eye contact, looking down at the papers in front of her as if they are more interesting.

���Well, we’re here now. And I have gone to all of the effort of making copies for everyone,” Jimin says sweetly as he beckons in a page boy to distribute the documents. To your surprise the queen doesn’t stop any of it.

“What is this Jimin? Tired of playing the lowly prince?”  

You still. She hasn’t even looked at the documents being handed out. Next to you, Jimin doesn’t seem to waiver the same way you do, and it’s a blessing the queen doesn’t even spare you a glance.

“You think I don’t know what goes on inside my own palace?”

“In your own palace, yes, but not outside these walls,” you can almost see the colour drain from her face as Jimin talks, maybe not so unbothered by everything. “You see, Selena is currently heading off with all these documents to all of our neighbouring Kingdoms. It is one thing to deceive your own court, but quite another to mock our friends in other courts.”

“Why would you do that? So you wish to doom us. Not just me, but you, our people. No one will touch us if you have really done that. I did it for a reason, it wasn’t an easy decision, but I had to do it. You have no idea,” her face starts to turn red the more she talks, you expect steam to start billowing out of her ears any second.

The men around the room seem to still be avoiding looking at the queen. The papers have now all been handed out, but they don’t even look at those. Just look like they wish to be anywhere but here.

“No. I have not doomed us mother, just you.”

“You think they will just blame me? You think they will, what, accept you to be the new King, be fine with you taking over and running the kingdom?”

“Not necessarily,” Jimin says coolly, and you squeeze his hand in reassurance, letting him know you’re still here. “I have sent a letter along with the information. I have offered to take over from you, but I have also said that I will stand down if they deem that appropriate. I will allow someone to take my place.”

“You will do no such thing.”

A guard behind the queen looks unsure whether he should step forward to hold back the queen should she decide to leap on the prince. But next to you, Jimin doesn’t seem as phased as the queen does. While she seems to boil with anger, Jimin stands cool and collected, his hand still in yours.

“It’s not your decision any more, mother.”

“I won’t allow it. I am still queen. No one has stripped me of that title yet. And while I still stand here none of this nonsense will take place.”

You can almost feel the smile that Jimin refuses to show. The smug satisfaction leaking off him.

“But you see mother, you aren’t queen,” there’s a blink of shock on her face, so small you wonder if it crosses her face at all. “You haven’t been since last night in fact. Not since I held a meeting with the council and we voted to dethrone you.”

The shock is clearer on her face now. And now the men around the table seem ready for the floor to swallow them up and the queen gives a few of them looks like she’s about ready to kill. A calculation she misread, something she couldn’t equate happening. Since Jimin announced his reason for being here, it seemed like the queen had a comeback for everything, a way around everything you had come up with. But now, this seems like a hill too big to climb.

You knew it was a good idea to wait, and this now proved your theory. The idea hadn’t come until late in the months. It actually came from Selena, and when Jimin started to gather the council for a meeting you were all happily shocked that the plan paid off. The final nail in the coffin.  

Now, more guards enter the room. The queen goes from looking shocked, to looking livid.

“Please take my son and his – this girl, down into the dungeons,” she says to the guards, the first time she has acknowledged your existence.

When they don’t move, she doesn’t look surprised. You admire her willingness to not got down without a fight it nothing else.

“They’re here for you mother, not me.”

She works her jaw. You can almost see the clogs turning in her mind, trying and failing to think of a way out of this.

“You’ve always been a shame on me,” she almost spits the words at Jimin. “I should never have allowed you to stay here and pretend to be the heir to the throne. I should have shipped you off to some other kingdom where you wouldn’t have caused me all the pain you have caused me over the years. I hope you don’t become king. You don’t deserve it. You won’t be good at it. You’ll fail more than I have.”

Nasty words. Words meant to hurt. Her only weapon now she knows she can’t get out of this. And as the men around the table look horror struck by what they’ve witnessed, you turn more lovingly to Jimin.

His face shows no emotion as he looks at his mother, but you think you know him well enough now to see that the words hurt.

“Jimin,” you say softly, squeezing his hand gently so that he turns to look at you. “Let’s go.”

It takes him a second, almost as if he’s snapping out of a trance, but then it’s as if he’s really looking at you, a small smile playing on his lips. He squeezes your hand in return, and doesn’t need to say anything as he turns to walk out the room.

You go to follow him, but before you can get too far you stop. There’s one last thing you want to do before you leave.

Letting go of Jimin’s hand you turn back to the table. All eyes are on you as you grab a random piece of paper and scrunch it up, you only have eyes for the queen. It only takes half a thought now to set the paper on fire, not much more to blow it gently across the table to her. But the look that goes across her face, the horror, the panic, the fear, is enough for a smile to come to your lips.

You don’t say anything as you turn back to Jimin and take the few steps so you are back at his side. He chuckles as he loops an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side.

“So dramatic,” he chuckles into the skin at your hair line before planting a kiss there.

You both walk out the room the same way you walked in, together.

[demonshauntingthedoves]

𝒐𝒕7

Bring The Fire : YanderePrinces!ot7 x female reader [series] (@bangfantanfic)

The Royal Scandal : YandereKings!ot7 x maid female reader [scenarios] (@angellgguk)

Unmei : ot7 x princess reader [series] (@peachywritess )

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒌𝒋𝒊𝒏

Mercy : YandereKing!seokjin x female reader [oneshot] (@raggaraddy)

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏

Tastes Like Royalty : YandereServant!namjoon x princess reader [ part I ] (@sluttyandere )

Torn Emerald Stockings : YandereKing!namjoon x female reader [ part II ] (@sluttyandere)

𝒎𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒊

Beloved : YandereKing!yoongi x fem reader [oneshot] (@bang-tan-bitches)

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒂𝒆𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒈

Potrait Of A Prince : DrugaddictPrince!taehyung x female reader [oneshot] (@flowerwrites06)

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒏

Tainted : YanderePrince!jimin x female reader [oneshot] (@girl8890)

𝒋𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒐𝒐𝒌

Bloody Love : YandereKing!jungkook x femreader [series] (@hongjoongscafe )

Love Is A Game : YanderePrince!jungkook x fem reader [series] (@lleldey)

Silver Blades : YanderePrince!jungkook x fem reader [oneshot] (@jooniyah)

The Dark Prince : YanderePrince!jungkook x fem reader [series] (@jkeuphoriadreamland)

To Obtain The Flower : YandereKing!jungkook x fem reader [ part I ] (@mingshits )

Primrose : YandereKing!jungkook x fem reader [ part II ] (@mingshits )

Slave 19990319 : YandereAlienprince!jungkook x human! reader [ part I ] (@explicit-tae)

Concubine 19990319 : YandereAlienprince!jungkook x human! reader [ part II ] (@explicit-tae)

You Are My Crown : YanderePrince!jungkook x fem reader [oneshot] (@redsaurrce )

A Prince With A Ugly Heart : Prince!jungkook x fem reader [series] (@daydreamindollie)

Bow To You : King!jungkook x Queen reader [series] (@flowerwrites06 )

Love Letters : Prince!jungkook x maid reader [oneshot] (@bonny-kookoo )

[gguk-n]

Royal Heart (Crown Prince! Jungkook x Maid!Reader)

Happy Birthday to Jungkook!!

Summary- Falling in love is a luxury for Y/N. And Jungkook has too many responsibilities to be a hopeless romantic.

Jungkook was the crown prince of his kingdom set to take over as the King. His life was predetermined since the day he was born. Jungkook was good in everything he touched; archery, horse riding, sword fight, you name it. He was called the Golden Prince. He was loved by all the Kingdom's people. But Jungkook lacked one thing, love. He was a hopeless romantic and yearned for the love he read about in all the romance books he would steal and read. He hoped to find the woman of his dreams some day.

The woman of his dreams came in the form of his chamber maid, Y/N. A young, lively, hard working woman who worked as a baker's apprentice until she took up a job at the palace due to financial difficulty. She hoped to help her family and being employed at the palace meant a fixed and steady income for life. She too used to hope for love but circumstances made her lose her belief in love. She worked her way from the kitchen and cleaning the palace until she was informed that Prince Jungkook's chamber maid was getting old and couldn't work like she used to and Y/N was supposed to take over. Her predecessor was next to her as they opened the curtains and called out to the Prince to wake him from his slumber. Jungkook groggily rolled around in his bed till his eyes opened to the bright light shining in from the window. Jungkook was ready to fall back sleep when his eyes met hers. "Who are you?" he asked, his interest piqued. "Your highness, this is Y/N. She'll be taking over my duties from now on. I'll be around to teach her the ropes for a while, so please be understanding." her predecessor said while bowing her head. Jungkook got off the bed and wrapped his robe around him. "I'm used to how you do things, I hope there will be a smooth transition" he said while walking off to the bathroom. "Yes, your highness" her predecessor replied while following him. They had prepared the bath and once Jungkook was done, they helped him dress.

Y/N started to adjust well to her new role. Jungkook also seemed to enjoy the company of someone close to his age rather than his grandmother's age who babied him. You would find the both of them discussing the most random things when Jungkook returned from his lessons. Being good at anything and everything meant praises but Jungkook didn't realise how much he enjoyed being praised until Y/N praised him after his archery, begging him to teach her. Jungkook's chest swelled as he heard praises dropping from her lips; the first time since she started working as his chamber maid. From the responsibility of making sure Jungkook's room was clean and bath ready, she ended up following him around like his shadow much to his request. Her responsibilities had just increased and so had her affinity to Jungkook. She was the one getting his clothes ready and making sure he was dressed for the day. By any standard, Jungkook was attractive and she would have to be blind to disagree with it.

Y/N found herself looking at Jungkook a little longer than usual. The light reflected off his sweaty face after a horse riding session or the sweat dripped down his forehead after archery; his clothes were sweaty and stuck to him, accentuating his toned figure. He was well liked among the princesses of the neighbouring kingdoms when they would visit. They would attach themselves to Jungkook so as to keep his attention while holding onto his forearm. But Jungkook's attention was on another woman; dressed more modestly and not adorned in silks and jewellery. He would always find a smile on her face no matter the situation. She encouraged him and maybe sometimes he would talk to her about his deep dark secrets or fears. She understood him and didn't judge him for complaining even though he was the crown prince.

The first time Jungkook realised he liked her was when they were laughing and her laughter made everything lighter. The fact that he loved her was cemented when she hugged him after a long talk with his father, the King who was keen on marrying him of to the neighbouring Princess in hopes of expanding the kingdom. She sat there with her arms wrapped around him, consoling him. His relation with his parents wasn't the best but the constant pressures of being the Prince were getting to him. He wished to run away. And when he pulled away, he looked into her eyes momentarily before kissing her. It was as if he had waited all this time for this exact moment. His arms now rested on her waist and hers were cupping his cheeks. He pulled away to look into her eyes, "I love you, Y/N" he said. She smiled and whispered "I love you too, your royal highness" "Call me Jungkook, my love" he said.

Y/N had realised she loved him when he would be entertaining the princesses and a pang of jealousy would rip through her chest and make it difficult for her breathe. She hated that they could sit with him as his equal and talk to him about their day. She couldn't dare tell him about hers. It wasn't like Jungkook wouldn't let her, she just didn't feel comfortable to do so. Until, Jungkook asked her on one of her hardest day, how her day was and she broke down. He consoled her even gifted her silks and food to comfort her. She knew then that she loved him. He made butterflies erupt in her stomach and she couldn't explain it any other way.

Soon after their love confession, you could see them exchanging glances. A small smile graces his features when he would look at her. In the dead of the night when the whole castle was asleep, Y/N would be in Jungkook's bed as they explored each other and made promises of a future together. "I'm gonna make you Queen when I'm King" he mumbled against her neck as he trailed kisses along her shoulder. "I can't wait for that day" she whispered bringing him to her lips. "I love you, my prince charming" she said, a nickname she gave. "And I love you my future queen."

Their love was short lived since Jungkook was sent off to fight in a war against another Kingdom trying to conquer his Kingdom. Y/N would slip into his room when he was gone to feel closer to him. Others had started to talk, they used to talk before too but now it had become more obvious. Her duties didn't lie in the Prince's chamber right now and the fact that she would come out from his room in the wee hours of the night wasn't very well received. The other maids had started to whisper. The Queen had heard the rumours but they were confirmed when Jungkook returned and she found them arm in arm kissing. She couldn't have this, a lowly maid seducing her only son.

She quickly called for all of the most eligible maidens to come to the Palace and have Jungkook pick one of them. She watched her son reject the proposal, "If you do not do as I say, I shall behead the lowly maid" she bellowed. Jungkook looked shocked, "You know" he stammered. "Yes, now if you do not want her to lose her life or her job, you will do as I say." And Jungkook did exactly that. Y/N watched Jungkook dance along with his future wife as the King and Queen announced their union. Was everything he said a lie? Did he ever love her? She thought as tears burned her eyes. She watched them make small talk and laugh along.

Jungkook tried to reassure her that this meant nothing but she couldn't believe it. In no time, Jungkook and the Princess were married and she was made to stand outside the door to keep watch on the Queen's orders. She heard it all, Jungkook consummating his marriage. It broke her, she was still their chamber maid. The days after their marriage were hell, she wanted to run away. That's when she caught him a few days before she had decided to leave, it was confirmed that the Princess was with child and would be giving birth to the next heir. She couldn't take this anymore, watching her love live a fulfilled life while she suffered in silence. "Your royal highness, congratulations on the baby. I must say you are a very good actor. You had be fooled there for a minute." she stuttered while a lump formed in my throat. "Y/N, it is not like that" he said trying to hold her face. She moved back, "I'm sorry your highness, but you are a married man and a father to be. I was a fool so I must apologise" she cried. "Please, I love you so much" he cried. "I cannot believe that and I cannot watch you two anymore. I do not think my heart can take it. I wish you all the best, Jungkook" she said while leaving.

She was never seen after. Jungkook spent the rest of his time in search of her, his marriage fell apart and so did the kingdom. He regretted ever letting her walk away.

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

What if... you decided to run away? part three | OT7 BTS au

A very belated update starring my soulmate @shadowofahope and some angst. Warnings: mentions of murder, crime scenes, betrayal, injury, a mentally deranged villain, and bts hurting. 6.3K words

Prev

Two options presented themselves to Min Yoongi as he watched you happily having breakfast with the others. He could tell you and this whole dream would be shattered, or he could bury it, and they could all live happily ever after. He was deluding himself he knew it, it wasn’t a question of if you’d find out, it was a matter of when. He also knew, if he wasn’t the one to tell you, you’d never forgive him.

Still with knowing this, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he looks at you, his throat seized. All his instincts wanted to do was keep him from breaking the mirage of everything he wanted, and that’s what he would be doing. Call him a coward, like Namjoon was doing with his gaze eating into the side of Yoongi’s face, but to keep that smile on your face, he’d be anything to keep dreaming.

“Hyung, Princess is sleeping next to us tonight,” Jungkook stares down the Prince with the most serious glare he can muster before he sits down for his serving of pancakes. Jimin and Taehyung nodding furiously on either side of him, imploring with their eyes that you both agree.

The idea of you not being in his arms as he slept made an uncomfortable itch manifest under his skin, akin to anxiety but more volatile. He keeps himself from scratching, nodding quietly in agreement as he plays with his food. He can feel the surprise in the room, Jin and Hobi looking at each other in shock. Even you nearly choked on the orange juice, whipping your head round to inspect the silent prince.

He tried to keep his features neutral, knowing you could read him like a book. Your reassuring palm on his thigh lets him know you can see through him, that light squeeze trying to coax him to look at you, but he’s too afraid to. If he faces you he would have to face Namjoon too, and right now, he couldn’t deal with either of you.

“Yoongi?” Your voice is so understanding and soft, the disgust he had in himself he could feel rise like bile in his throat at the sound.

“I don’t like it Jagi,” he tries to smile, trying to meet your eyes. “But you’re right I have to share.”

He excuses himself, unable to stand lying to you about his current predicament, Namjoon’s eyes following him every step of the way. You’re about to follow after him but the taller individual beats you to it, telling you to stay.

The remaining men look between themselves, questioning each other silently before you verbalise their thoughts.

“Did someone say something to him?” You wince at the accusation in your own words.

“We’ve been saying something to him since we landed Princess,” Jimin deadpans, eyes narrowing at you as you defend the greedy prince.

“Look I know he’s been… unreasonable lately, but you know him,” you didn’t want to talk about Yoongi’s vulnerabilities, but the suggestion was clear in your tone. “He doesn’t mean to be-” you hesitate, trying to find the right word.

“An asshole?” Jin suggests, making Jungkook snicker at the language. “We know Princess, but I think he’s forgetting the fact we nearly lost you too.”

“Of course you’re going to defend your prince over your knights in shining armour,” Taehyung mumbles to himself, his fork hitting the plate harshly as he picks up a piece of pancake.

You press your lips together to hold back the laugh, Jin and Jimin mirroring your expression.

—

You knock on the door again, the fifth time, but still no response. It had been a week since you last saw her and now you were worried something was wrong. You frown, there were only so many places you could be on this island and when the weather was scorching like today, the only place was home. So why was your new friend not answering the door?

“Nym?” You call out again, but not a whisper greets you back.

You sigh, sweat starting to drip from your scalp to your face. You turn back to your place, telling yourself you’d try again later.

The heat of the sun cooked the top of your head, you curse yourself for not bringing out a hat or parasol or something. As beautiful as this piece of heaven was, you were not acclimated to it.

You try not to run back to the villa to escape the heat, ready for a cool drink as you reach the front step.

“Where have you been?” Yoongi almost yells in his panic when you walk through the door making you jump.

“Hey,” you frown, hand on your chest to slow your startled heart. “What’s wrong?”

He composes himself at that question, as if he wasn’t aware of his demeanour until you called it out, like he forgot himself for a moment.

“Nothing,” he mutters, walking away with his head hanging low in guilt.

What the heck was that?

“Yoongi?” You call after him, knowing he wanted to be alone but not wanting to leave him with the thoughts drowning him. You follow him into his room, staring in worry when he sits on the bed and hangs his head into his hands. 

“Baby?” you ask, heart thumping uncontrollably as your mind races. “Yoongi what’s wrong?”

You’re scared to approach him, depending on his disposition he didn’t always welcome physical comfort when he felt vulnerable. Whatever cloud was thundering above him had his shoulders slumped, you couldn't see his eyes, couldn’t read his expression. 

“Yoongi say something,” you beg, still standing by the door. “You’ve been acting weird all week, please say something.”

He sniffs, lifting his head, eyes full of water ready to spill. You stand in shock for a second, Yoongi wasn’t one to cry. You rush to him, holding him tight as he starts to sob, knowing he was unworthy of your comfort right now when he kept the worst secret from you. 

“Jagi, tell me what's wrong please,” your own bottom lip wobbles, you hate seeing him upset, it kills you. 

He shakes his head against you. You would never forgive him, he tries to get ahold of himself, pushing away from you as he wipes his face in his hands. The look of worry you give him breaks his heart. He takes your hand in his, trying to reassure you silently by stroking his thumb against your skin but he can’t meet your eyes. 

He wants to thank you when you don’t push it, when you let it go for now, but the words are bitter and vile in his mouth and he doesn’t release them.

—

“Why are you guys making popcorn?” Namjoon asks when he enters the kitchen, Yoongi close behind him after another argument. 

“We fixed the TV,” Jungkook says with a mouthful of snacks.

The prince becomes petrified with panic, he was the one to mess with the wiring so you wouldn’t have access to the outside world or the news. The fear that freezes him, suddenly jolts him out of shock, almost running to the living room where he finds you flicking through the channels. He doesn’t think before he snatches the remote out of your hand, turning the device off and gaining everyone’s questioning gaze.

“Yoongi?”

“Hyung, what are you doing?” Taehyung asks in disbelief, he just got comfortable for movie night. 

He can’t say a word, his mind drawing blanks for an excuse. 

“You’ve been acting weird all week,” Jin says.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Jimin looks at him as if he’s grown 2 extra heads. 

“No tv,” he breathes, the panic not subsiding. Namjoon stands behind him, his cheeks sucked in as he watches the scene. He’s still angry from the fight with the prince, but he wasn't vindictive enough to throw him under the bus.

“Why?” Hoseok asks.

“He’s hiding something,” you finally speak after observing him, trying to take the remote back but he grips onto it like his life depends on it. 

Jungkook had followed behind the two when they entered, moving towards the screen while you and Yoongi stared at each other. He uses the controls on the TV to turn it on, Yoongi’s face turning blank when he changes channel. It’s his worst luck that it revealed what he tried so desperately to hide. 

You turn to the image of your father’s coffin being walked out of his castle, held up by 6 men as Baekhyun and Taeyeon walked behind it dressed in black. The words the newscaster was saying don’t even reach your ears, your face contorting from shock into pain. 

“Jagi…”

You start hyperventilating, the others caught in stupor, unable to move. The king was dead, and they all had strong suspicions that Yoongi knew. 

“Y/n let’s calm-“ Namjoon tries reaching for you but you snap away at his touch.

“Did you know?” He would take bullets right now than the look of fire on your face.

“Y/n-“

“Did. You. Know.”

But his face confesses for you where his words can’t. That’s all it takes for you to break down, falling to your knees with your arms around your head, whimpering not just at the loss of life, but the loss of trust.

“Jagi,” Yoongi tries again, his heart blaring fast in alarm.

“Don’t,” the strength in your voice is gone, but he knows not to say another word. 

The tension turns thick, Jungkook mutes the news channel, but the footage of your father’s funeral still plays on the screen for them all to see. Minutes pass, no one daring to speak first. Jin glares at the prince, knowing what emotional turmoil he just put you through, how could he keep this from you? His gaze flickers to Namjoon with even more contempt.

“I have to go back,” you say more to yourself than them, coming to stand on wobbly legs, but your words cut through the silence for them all to hear.

“No,” the prince almost growls at the suggestion, but you look ready to tear him right back, looking like a wounded animal on edge, ready to do whatever to survive.

“You,” that one syllable held more venom than he had ever heard from you, finger pointed like a knife in accusation, “don’t get to decide for me, you don’t get to control me, y-you-“

You can’t help it, your words falter as you break down again, the corners of your sneer weighted down by grief, the bottom lip trembling as the fire in your eyes is drowned out by tears.

“You of all people know what it’s like to be controlled your whole life, and you tried to do that to me.”

Your words hit him, they do, like a truck to the chest, ploughing him down, but he can’t regret his actions, only your sorrow.

“If you go back,” he takes a step towards you. “We,” he points to himself and the rest of inhabitants in the room, “go back.”

He waits for the realisation to pass your eyes, and he knows it’s there as they soften on him for a moment.

“If we go back Jagi,” his voice cracks, hating himself for causing you this pain, but wanting you to listen to him. “We are dead men.”

“I can ex-“

“They won’t wait for an explanation Y/n!” He yells frustrated. “They’ll sentence us to death before we’re questioned, you know how it works! How it really works.”

Your lips quiver as you try to look strong, but everything inside of you is crushed. The hurt clawed its way through your body, reducing you to nothing. 

“I should have married him,” you say quietly to yourself but the sincerity in your tone breaks their hearts. You regretted choosing them, choosing your freedom.

“And lived unhappily ever after?” Yoongi scoffs with disgust at the image of you and Wang at the altar.

“And this is better? Letting my country and my people fall into the hands of a psychopath? Be betrayed by men who I thought loved me enough not to lie to me?” you reply, staring despondently at nothing. “I was born with my duty and I have failed it.”

His red rimmed eyes can’t look at you.

“For what?” Your hoarse voice presses, hurting you all. “For something as trivial and fickle as love, the monarchy comes first and I have forgotten my place.”

“Please,” he begs, head hung low as every word you uttered, although right, killed him.

“My father was right.” It was like a final bullet, the harshest slap or ice bucket thrown over him.

You turn to Namjoon.

“If you didn’t love me, would you have let me escape?”

Both your minds go to the night he caught you, the night their feelings were revealed. He thinks it through, understanding his own duty. You stare in silence, his mind calculating, overthinking. There just wasn’t a world that existed in his mind where he didn’t love you, so how could he answer?

“I don’t know,” he confesses sincerely.

“I wish you didn’t,” you breathe. “My father might still be alive.”

“That’s not your fault,” Taehyung says but you shake your head.

What if he died because of you? Because you ran away? The guilt eats away at you, and you know if Yoongi and Namjoon were honest from the beginning you could have accepted it, could have leaned on them for emotional support but now you felt a rift between yourselves that ran too deep to fix. Yet despite that distance that now existed between you, you had no one else to turn to. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you sob, looking to them all for guidance. It was ironic that you were now technically queen, and you had no clue, no power, nothing.

They stay silent, solemn as they look to the ground and avoid your gaze.

“Princess there’s nothing we can do,” Jin says softly, not wanting to upset you but unable to feed any fantasy you had of fixing this.

“I can’t leave my people to Taeyeon,”

Yoongi stands in front of you, his eyes piercing into yours, with an anger you couldn’t place.

“They’re not your people anymore,” he says harshly, “you abdicated, this isn’t your problem.”

“Hyung,” Jimin warns him gently, he was pushing it.

You search his eyes, wondering why he was trying to hurt you further, until you realise there was fear he was trying to hide with his wrath.

“You knew when you left, eventually Baekhyun and that psycho bitch would be next in line,” Yoongi continues, ignoring Jimin. “You don’t want that life Y/n.”

A knock on the door snaps everyone’s attention to the sound, the tension not broken but they’re grateful for the pause.

Your new friend enters cautiously, eyes wandering around the room at everyone’s sullen expressions and the endless stream of tears pouring down your face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

“Nym, is everything okay?” Namjoon asks politely, not appreciating the disruption but knowing there wouldn’t be one without good reason.

“I… I did some digging,” Nym breathes nervously, wanting to bolt out of the room with the heaviness in the air but this was important. “The authorities already know something was unusual with the late king’s passing so-“

“You knew too?” The sting of betrayal had you interrupting before you could stop yourself. You were stuck on this island and you thought you could run to your friend’s place for help when the conversation was over but now you truly had nowhere to turn to. This paradise had turned into a prison, they weren’t going to let you leave.

Nym looks at you sadly, apologising silently hoping what was uncovered with a week of no sleep would earn your forgiveness.

“I thought hard about what I could do to help, and I think I have something.”

“What is it?” Hoseok asks.

“The authorities know there’s something odd about the King’s passing, but Prince Baekhyun and his wife closed any investigation, so I did some digging,” Nym explains, feeling the intensity of everyone’s stares, no one breathed. “I…”

She pauses, looking at you wondering whether it was right to just lay everything out on the table, but how can something so destructive be cushioned. Namjoon’s eyes glance towards the laptop in the computer genius’s arms.

“What did you find?” you barely whisper. 

“She didn’t cover her tracks very well,” Nym replies, hesitating. “I don’t think you should see this.”

“Taehyung and Jimin, maybe your should take Y/n-”

“No,” you interrupt, the hell were they going to discuss this without you, that was what caused this fucking problem in the first place. “Show me.”

Your eyes don’t implore your friend, they demand authority and everyone in the room understands why you deserve your title, blood had nothing to do with it. The laptop is placed on the table, everyone’s eyes glued to the screen. 

“The Imperial castle has two sets of security cameras, someone hacked into them to erase everything the night of your fathers death,” Nym explains. “It took a week but I recovered them.”

“How did he die?” Jin asks what you couldn't stomach asking.

“The official story is he mixed medication with alcohol and…” there's a pause for concern over your wellbeing, but you were done with walking around eggshells, they were all broken anyway. 

“Say it,” you beg.

“He fell down the Castle stairs,” Nym says, watching your reaction cautiously, “there was a dent on his head that was unexplainable with the fall, but they think he might’ve bumped it on something given his state. They blamed the security camera malfunction on the storm.”

“And what actually happened?” Namjoon asks.

“Just play the footage Nym,” you say, it didn’t matter anyway, what was done was done, what you wanted was the truth.

After a deep breath, Nym presses play, the screen is grainy at first but clears. Your father comes into the frame, obviously heavily intoxicated with someone pushing him from behind. Whoever it was, wears a ski mask, looking around on edge. There’s a glint of metal in their hand that you can’t make out but it’s pressed against his back. After a stumble, he trips on the ground, and the masked figure tries to pull him up. They get into a tussle, your father grabbing the individual but only able to pull off the balaclava. Your breath catches as you recognise her, and now the object in her grasp. You jump when the pistol is slammed against his skull, and he’s pulled to his feet. He’s disorientated, clutching his head in his hands before he’s pushed to the stairs. You close your eyes, knowing what was about to happen, and you thought you could stomach it but you can’t. Arms wrap around you, someone strokes your hair. You bury your head into his chest, knowing it was Taehyung who had come to comfort you from the most abhorrent scene you ever had to witness. 

“I’m so sorry Y/n,” Nym says sincerely as you muffle your cries. 

—

They sit in silence once Nym leaves, the hours tick by with you sitting on the ottoman alone, too quiet, too stoic, too deep in thought. No one dares to break it first, no one dares to move, scared that the already fragile state of your being could shatter more than it already had. There was no coming back from this, that was the fear, no recovering. 

The footage would be released with your permission, it would solve the issue of letting the psychopath sit in your throne, and yet there was another fear in the room. The proof of your father’s murder didn’t solve everything. 

“I’m going back,” you say calmly.

“But-“

“You’re not coming with me,” you don’t mean it in a cruel way but it still breaks their hearts. “I have a role I was born to serve, a people who need a queen they can trust, not some relative who thought they were safe from ever having to wear the crown.”

“But we’re happy here,” Jimin says with wobbling lips, eyes and nose streaming.

“Why can’t we come with you?” Jungkook cries.

“Because for right or wrong reasons, the government will still have you tried for concealing my whereabouts without consulting the royal guards,” you state, hating the matter of fact but you couldn’t risk their safety. “Rules are rules, and no matter what story we spin, we still broke the law.”

“You’re going to leave us?” Hoseok asks in disbelief. “After everything.”

You bite your lip hard to stop your eyes watering but it doesn’t work. This would be the hardest thing you would do but it needed to be done.

“Not forever,” you promise, voice hoarse and heavy. “But until I can clear your name and guarantee your safety, this will have to be goodbye.”

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head, his arms crossed, his eyes closed as if that would protect him and stop everything.

“You and I both know what happens if you come back with me Yoongi,” you sniff. “If you get imprisoned in my country, the repercussions will be war and you know it.”

“What if we go back to our country?” Hoseok suggests, “Yoongi’s uncle might be able to liaise with little Queen’s government and clear our name.”

“There’s no guarantee that would work,” Namjoon sighs, massaging his head with his fingers as he tries to solve this impossible conundrum. Politics was more complicated than chess, it was like playing on a board 50 times the size with a thousand more unique pieces.

“Not to mention what Y/n’s government will force her to do in return for clearing our name,” Yoongi seethes, finally looking at you with a sad anger welling his eyes. “What if they ask you to marry Wang like your father proposed, to honour his wishes and get whatever deal he was offered by selling your hand in marriage.”

“That’s not how it works,” Tae says in disbelief, looking between you and Yoongi waiting for someone to reassure him you wouldn’t become a pawn for your country. You only look at him sadly in reply.

“One problem at a time please,” Jin mutters, catching Namjoon’s headache.

“Please don’t go back,” Jimin begs, the palm of his hands covering his eyes as he sobbed. This was so cruel, that they finally got to taste a life with you in their arms for only seconds before you were taken away.

“What if Princess married Hyung?” Jungkook suggests desperately, but the question makes you burst more into tears, your head tilted to the ceilings as you try to stop.

“She can’t get married without the permission of the courts,” Namjoon says solemnly, head hanging low. “And Yoongi Hyung’s uncle would never agree, there’s too much bad blood.”

“He barely agreed to let Yoongi become little queen’s guard,” Jin remembers out loud.

Yoongi shakes his head. He hated this, the fact his blood had a say in his life, ruled it without thought to what he wanted.

“If my father was king he would have allowed it,” Yoongi admits, for years he prayed his uncle would sire offspring so the crown would never fall on him, now he was second guessing his wishes.

You both look at eachother, another life flashing before your eyes, one so out of reach it was more of a fantasy than a dream. You still held a resentment for his actions, but the concept of leaving him overcast everything. You understood it to some extent but you truly didn’t know whether you could forgive him. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you say, “right now it doesn’t change anything.”

He hangs his head in shame, knowing he really fucked up beyond repair. 

Your attention shifts to Namjoon as he kneels in front of you, the equation in his head starting to solve itself. His eyes implore into yours, the rest of the group fade to the background when he takes your hands into his, his warm touch soothing you. 

“You always said growing up royal was awful,” He starts cautiously, not wanting to cause any more problems or misunderstandings. “There were too many rules, too many restrictions, too many classes on how to behave.”

You nod as you take in his words, wondering where he was going with this. 

“Your father pushed you away, there's a history of that you know,” he informs you. “The first heir is always treated differently, the spare is raised with less restraint, they say the prospect of raising a child who is set to replace you throughout time has caused parental rifts.”

“Where are you going with this Joonie?” you ask, he smiles apologetically, the tangent was somewhat an accident to avoid a harsh truth he needed to reveal.

“If you go back, your whole life is decided for you, Queen of a country or not, the government will set your alliance to someone they see fit, you will be expected to have two children, at least, and then they will be subjected to everything you did growing up.”

You stare at him. The thought had crossed your mind before but you always swore you would do better. The reason your father was so harsh on you was he couldn’t have a spare, your mother died too soon after your birth. You were it, he drilled that into you from day one.

“I can protect them,” you say weakly, tears starting again when Joon shakes his head in disagreement. 

“I know you’ll fight Y/n, but it would be you against a hundred officials, you tried to fight your father and you couldn’t and every one of those officials were behind him in his decision.”

“Joon,” you cry, wanting him to stop. His hand squeezes yours, the other wiping away the teardrops gently trying to cushion his words. 

“To the world, you are so privileged, and part of that is true, but they haven’t seen you suffer like we have, and I hate to think about how much you suffered before meeting us.”

You sniff, looking around the room at the rest of them looking so downtrodden, your eyes falling last on Yoongi who wipes his tears before they can fall. Yoongi, who understood you through experience, who you connected with the moment you met. 

“You guys are the best thing that ever happened to me,” you tell them truthfully, “I don’t want to go back without you, but I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

“It’s your decision little Queen,” Hoseok steps forward, smiling sadly but knowing how hard this was for you. “We’ll support you no matter what.”

The younger three glare at him for that comment, the others hanging their heads low as if in prayer. 

“Whatever happens,” Jin agrees, “you always have our love and support Princess.”

“Please,” Yoongi begs quietly, his face scrunched in pain as he cries openly. The sight breaks your heart all over again, you really did hate seeing him in pain. 

—

“After the tribulations and trials of our beloved royal family, I think the country can say this is a monumental event in history. Like treachery out of a mediaeval plot, today also marks the one month anniversary of the death of our late king, murdered by the wife of his nephew in a scheme for the crown.

Of course this plot was unveiled by his daughter, who at the time fled the country for her safety, but returned to ensure the safety of her people and bring Kim Taeyeon to justice.”

Sadness sat like stones in their stomachs, sinking slowly as your face graced the screen. You smile but they know it doesn’t reach your eyes, you wave to the crowd and the cameras before climbing into the carriage off to the citadel for your coronation. 

“She looks so beautiful,” Taehyung mumbles, in awe of your figure in the red ruby gown. He blinks back tears, your absence didn’t get any easier for them, and seeing you on a screen just cemented the fact you were no longer here. 

“I can’t believe she went back,” Jin whispers to himself but the others hear. They also hear his unsaid words hiding between the lines, you chose duty over them, the irony was hard to ignore. You always thought they would do the same.

“Of course the matter still remains about the young Queen’s foreign bodyguards who’s current whereabouts are unknown. There is massive divide in the country and government over the actions of Kim Namjoon and his men, one of whom is the current Prince of another nation. There are calls for their presence in the court, others are demanding they receive the medal of valour, and during a recent official press conference this is what our new Queen had to say…”

The screen shifts to you at a podium, cameras and lights flashing on your form as you look at your paper. They hadn’t seen the footage yet but the date stamp on the footage showed it was from a few days ago. Jungkook holds his breath, waiting for you to speak, it felt like a lifetime ago that he heard your voice. 

“I understand there is a lot of speculation over my disappearance, and rumours that I was abducted by the men sworn to protect me.”

The youngest can’t help sniffling at the sound, he misses you and the feeling opened new excruciating wounds in him where he thought there was room for no more. 

“I am here to clear any misunderstanding over the events of the last month or so. This accusation has put to question the character of the men my own father, the late king, employed and I can say one thing for certain with absolute conviction…”

You take a pause, looking up at the cameras as if staring into each of their souls. They can see the longing in your eyes, the tears forming that you blink away, a moment of weakness that you had to hide. 

“Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin… Min Yoongi,” you take a breath as if his name pained you. “Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jung Jungkook are the best men I have ever met, and they saved my life, and any call for their imprisonment is a crime against the crown and against me. I will do everything in my power to clear their names, and have them return. Our relations with King Min must remain peaceful, and I will not have my country tarnish their character and cause unrest between two nations. 

My first act on the throne will be to resolve any remaining issues between our countries and draw up a new treaty with King Min, and I know my people will stand with me. Thank you.”

“She’s gonna do it,” Namjoon says quietly but proudly, smiling sadly when he sees the resolve on your face as you start answering press questions. “It’ll take some time but we’ll be by her side again.”

The room is quiet as they watch the footage change back to your coronation, all of them swallowing back tears with heavy hearts. They wished they could be standing there beside you, but one day they knew they would be again, no matter how long it took. 

There are cheers coming from the crowds as the crown is placed on your head, you take a deep breath that they can all see, a smile to the people but your eyes are glassy. 

“Our beautiful little Queen,” Jimin says in awe, tears slipping that he can’t help. 

“I know she’ll be the best Queen in the world but I’m so anxious for her,” Jin breathes, his heart nervous for you. 

“I wish we were there,” Hoseok whispers.

“She shouldn’t be there,” Yoongi says solemnly, standing. “She should be here with us.”

The others watch him walk out of the room, the prince had fallen into a deep stoic state, they just hope the hurt would fade with time. You carved out Yoongi’s soul the day you left, they could only pray he would find himself again. 

—

You don’t know how you managed to give your new staff the slip, you had paid the driver off with enough money that he couldn’t refuse, despite what your advisors and the government officials tried to stop you from doing.

You knew it would bring you nothing but more grief, but you had to. You could already hear Namjoon berating you, it almost makes you smile before you remember why you’re here. You’re glad to see the tower is cold and depressing as promised, the criminals in here were all in treachery of the crown. 

The guards all gave you worried looks as you demanded to see her, and there she stood in the last cell, trapped behind metal bars finally looking like the madness she held within. Her hair stood on end, a nest of knots that could never be undone, much like the chaos she caused in your life. 

She sees you, and now you really do smile vindictively when her eyes travel down the length of your coronation gown before fixing themselves on the crown that sat where it belonged. She growls, her teeth baring in disgust and hate you never witnessed before.

She presses herself against the metal, reaching for you as if she could snatch all her wants within her grasp. 

“You abdicated, that crown is mine!”

It was strange, confronting her like this. Almost surreal, the concept that this was the woman you befriended, the woman who failed in killing you, and the woman who murdered your father. There was no denying it, you saw it for yourself. 

“Why couldn’t you just stay away?” she has the gall to sob, to truly cry over her loss as if she was the victim, and you knew then there was no hope for her, not that you would ever offer it to her in the first place. 

You shake your head in disbelief, a humourless laugh before you take a step closer, wanting no one but her to hear your words.

“You know what?” You start, voice quiet but unwavering. “If you had just left everything well enough alone, I wouldn’t be here, if you didn’t let your greed become so heinous it cost a man his life, eventually you could’ve worn this crown and I would have let you.”

She screams, the sound making you want to slap some sense into her. 

“But your actions have cost so many people in so many ways,” you say sadly, not an ounce of sympathy for her, but for yourself as selfish as that might sound. “I can see now there’s no saving you.”

“That crown is mine! THAT CROWN IS MINE!” She repeats it as if it would become true, getting louder and louder as you stare. 

“You killed my father you psychotic bitch,” you spit, but there was no point to this, there would be no real justice for her actions, and she would never regret them. You wonder what closure you were trying to gain by being here, there was nothing you could do to make her feel your pain. 

—

“Your majesty,” your new personal advisor bids your farewell. You had moved to the cold imperial castle, the official site for the monarch. The day had cost you all your energy and you could barely bring yourself to climb the stairs to your new chamber. You try to ignore the urge to glance towards where you know they found your father’s body, the hurt of losing him still fresh despite the strain of your relationship with him. You push away the thoughts to deal with another time. 

Your jaw hurts from forcing your face to smile all day for the public eye, as you get ready for bed the deep empty void in your chest gets filled with pangs of sadness so intense you have to stop and breathe for a moment. You had kept it subdued all day for duty, but it came back with a vengeance. 

You were now Queen, and completely utterly unfathomably alone. The thought grips you so painfully in the silenve you can’t help the sob that turns into a wail. There was no one here to comfort you, no one to hear you yet you still covered your cries with your hand, sinking pitifully to the floor. 

The agony of leaving them didn’t fade for a day. You forgave Yoongi and Namjoon the second you returned to this awful cage, wanting to regret leaving them but there was nothing you could do about your decision now. You knew what Yoongi was trying to protect you from, there was no malice in his actions, just desperation that undid you both. You walked back into the life you tried to escape, and lost far more than you could ever explain. 

In truth you didn’t know whether you would see them again, whether you would win the fight to clear their name. You would never give up, you couldn’t, the only thing that kept you going was getting them back, otherwise this was going to be a long lonely purgatory for you without them. 

“Min Yoongi I forgive you,” you barely breathe out loud, needing him to hear you no matter how impossible. You knew him better than you knew yourself, knew he needed to hear those words for his own peace, or he would never forgive himself. You knew what state you left him in, and that one thing was your biggest regret.

[aguststhv]

Melting Your Heart- MYG

╰ ̷ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ → 𝖠𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝖸𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖪𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝖸𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖸/𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖸𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝖸𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖸/𝗇 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝖻𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖸/n'𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗌𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖣𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝖼𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗋, 𝖽𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖸𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 "𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾". 𝖶𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖸/𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝖼𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖸𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂'𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍'𝗌 𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖸𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄?

╰ ̷ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ → 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾!𝗒𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

╰ ̷ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ → 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝖺𝗎, 𝗋𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗒! 𝖺𝗎, 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌(?) 𝖺𝗎, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍.

╰ ̷ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ → 𝗌𝗐𝖾��𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅, 𝖼𝗂𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗌, 𝗀𝗎𝗇𝗌, 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗒, 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖻𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗁.

┍━━-—----━━━━━♔━━-----------━━━━━┑

ＣＯＭＩＮＧ JUNE 30th, 8:30pm CET

Tag list: @fairywriter-oracle ; @winterbear3 ; @yoongisducky ; @jwlmnbt ; @ahses-world ; @sugaslittlekookies ; @piecesofapril11 ; @scentedsope ; @captainchrisstan ; @janura26 ; @strxwbloody ; @baechugff ; @svnbangtansworld

a/n: If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to send an ask or comment down here! Prologue | ch.1 |

[mariabtsos]

Secret Story of the Swan ||j.hs|| - index

Next ->

Description: You've been betrothed from the day you were born, your father may have not said it outright, but there comes a point when he can't hide how obviously he and Hoseok's mother want you to fall in love with him. When tragedy strikes and obstacles get in the way, will love be enough to save you?

Genre: Drabble? Royal!AU, prince!Hoseok x princess f!reader, childhood frenemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, slow burn-ish, fluff, fantasy elements

Warnings: minor character death (off and on page), curses, hunting of animals, fatal injuries (disembowelment), mentions of blood, kidnapping, childhood bullying.

It's Swan Princess AU time with Hobi! As I said I've been working on it as I get insipiration, and this one was next! It'll probably be around two or three parts depending on how it all goes, I hope you like it!

Part 1 - ?

[daechwitatamic]

Of Ruin: Chapter 16 || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: ig major character death but that’s kind of a technicality, vampire biting, blood drinking, vampire biting, fangwarming??? lmfao, fluff, what i hope is a plot twist lol wc: 5.1k

The passage behind the thrones leads to a corridor not far from Taehyung’s wing. It’s close to the section of rooms that are meant to be yours now. Yours, for your new life as an Infracti. For your new life as the King’s sperasa, until you become Queen.

You’d agreed that doing the ritual in your wing would be best, so that they won’t have to transport you - newly turned, probably unconscious - through the palace.

You are afraid.

You let yourself feel it, don’t deny yourself the right to float in the crawling sensation of terror clawing its way up from your stomach. Taehyung’s hand in yours can’t dispel it. Your pride in him and your love for him, mighty as they are, can’t dispel it.

You’ve become accustomed to fear in your time here. You press on.

In your main room, still unfamiliar to you, Taehyung holds you close, one hand on the back of your head and the other around your waist. You let him hold you, close your eyes.

“Brave,” he whispers.

“I don’t feel very brave,” you admit quietly.

A knock on the door comes and the Queen enters, followed by Jimin. Behind him is Seokjin of Score, and Namjoon. Taehyung arranged all of this once you and Dr. Kim had explained what would be needed.

Namjoon finds you and approaches, face solemn.

“You ready?” he asks quietly as you look over the written countercurse together.

“Have to be,” you say. “Are you?”

He nods. “We can do this,” he asserts.

“And then you get to go home,” you say.

He nods, looking up at you from the parchment. “I’m going as soon as we can confirm it worked,” he tells you, a bit of apology in his tone. Like he’s sorry he isn’t staying with you - even though there’s no way he could.

“Good,” you say, meaning it. “Tell your grandfather… Thank you for everything. And… Thank you, too. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“It was an honor,” he says, quietly, then adds, “I’m grateful, too.”

You feel yourself choking up, and you will it away. You need to be clear-headed, professional. There isn’t room for this - not now. You’ll have to be sad later. Still, you tell him, “I hope I can come see you both soon. I’ll try - as soon as I’m able to be around humans.”

He smiles sadly. “Don’t come until you’re sure you won’t eat us.”

“I promise,” you say, smiling a little. 

He regards you seriously again. Behind him, Taehyung seems to be organizing the items you’d asked for, going over the directions again. Namjoon says, “This might be goodbye for a while, huh?”

“If the countercurse works,” you agree.

You both seem to hover on the precipice of a hug goodbye. In the end, he gives you a final clap on the shoulder, and then the plan is lurching into motion around you.

The Queen has the things you need - the metronome, a jar of ashes.

You set the metronome to a slow rate, and then usher everyone into place in the open space of the room. Then, you sprinkle the ashes in a perfect circle around the group, locking you in with the magic. No one speaks. They just watch you work, ranging from curious to subdued.

When the circle is perfect, you pull out the parchment with the countercurse and explain one last time.

“This is the point, right here,” you say, pointing and showing the paper around the group of Infracti, “when Namjoon will take over the incantation. The ashes will keep the magic close-by, but you need to close the circle as quickly as possible or we’ll lose the connection.”

“We’ve got it,” Seokjin assures you, steady. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” you say, pulse thundering. You wish there was anything you could do to stall. You wish there was a blanket you could pull over your head. You wish there was someone from the future who could come tell you that everything would work out, that things would go as you intend.

“If anything goes wrong,” you add, “break contact as fast as you can, and break the circle of ashes to let the magic out. The quicker the better.”

It is the Queen - though, she is not that anymore, now that her son has been crowned - who lays a cool hand on your arm.

“Nothing will go wrong,” she tells you evenly. “We are all here beside you.”

You nod, wordless.

“I’m going to start, then,” you say, but you have to clear your throat once to make it audible.

You mutter a spell you’d looked up just for this, and your parchment obeys the command, hovering mid-air between you and Namjoon, supported by nothing. Namjoon stands to your right and the Queen to your left, and you press your palms to theirs. With everyone in place, you make a perfect circle, with Taehyung straight across.

“Breathe with the beat of the metronome,” you instruct. “Inhale… exhale…”

You breathe in time with everyone around you until you feel your magic rise up, flowing out to mingle with theirs. It takes some time before you feel ready to start the incantations; with Taehyung all the way across the circle it takes a few minutes before you feel his magical signature touch yours through the flow of everyone else’s. But it is unmistakable when he does, the warmth and belonging that accompany the sensation couldn’t be from anyone else.

When you feel like your magic and his are secure, thoroughly immersed with each other, you begin the incantation. You speak slowly and carefully, feeling the familiar sensation of the curse beginning to untangle. You keep your eyes on the page, try not to get distracted by the others.

There is no room for error - you can’t die twice.

There is no snag this time, no pull behind your navel that tells you the curse is fighting back. When you say your last line, you take your hands from those next to you and step into the circle.

Across from you, Taehyung steps forward too.

Around you, the remaining four step closer and fill the gaps you’d left behind, their hands meeting to close a small circle around you and Taehyung. Namjoon’s deep voice picks up the incantation where you left off. He’s borrowing, pulling magic from the Queen and from Jimin, who flank him.

You meet Taehyung’s eyes. Your heart is in your throat. There is so much you want to say to him. That you love him. That you trust him. That he’s worth this sacrifice.

You can’t speak, though, not during the incantation. Instead, you step close to him, breathe him in, and let him envelop you.

He wraps his arms around you, just as he had before everyone else had entered your rooms. He would have to hold tight, he’d warned you, to keep you from moving too much when your body began to instinctively fight him. And then, after, to hold you up when your legs inevitably give out.

He’d also warned you it would hurt.

You are afraid. 

You are afraid, but Taehyung is cradling you between his arms like you are precious, so you take a breath and nod.

Taehyung leans down and nuzzles the spot on your neck that he tends to favor. You stifle your cry when his fangs puncture you, letting out a mangled groan of agony through gritted teeth. You’re glad for his inhuman hold around your back, because your knees do go weak for a moment before you will them back into compliance.

There is no pulling sensation, and no welcome rush of venom. Instead, Taehyung’s hands tighten around you like a warning and then the location of his bite goes white hot.

You hear yourself scream.

The heat spreads, up your neck, down your chest. Your eyes roll back, your throat rasps as your scream continues. Your legs give out, useless beneath you. 

You feel yourself start to fight, hands clawing at Taehyung’s sides, body beginning to twist and tug. Taehyung’s hold is true, and you get nowhere. Your lungs burn and your scream dies to a whimper before starting anew after you drag in a breath.

Everything is on fire - from head to toe you are aflame. Your muscles strain to aching as your body tries and tries to wrench itself away from the pain.

Darkness creeps in the edge of your unfocused vision as you kick fruitlessly at Taehyung’s immoveable legs. You hear yourself gasping out sobs between shrieks of pain. You can see less and less, the black swirling at the edges of your vision taking over by the second.

Before the darkness closes in on you, you will yourself to focus, choke down the next scream that crawls up your throat.

You want to see him. You want to see him before you die. 

Your eyes fight to find him against the blurriness, and you blink away tears. His mouth is wet with your blood and his cheeks are wet with tears, but when he sees you looking at him, he presses his forehead to yours, and his hands on your back unclench and soothe up and down instead.

There he is, you think. My King. My love. And then you let the darkness come.

—

Taehyung looks around the meeting room, then closes his eyes and rubs a hand down his face.

His cabinet, a mix of his father’s people and some of his own, wait him out.

“Three weeks,” he repeats hollowly.

The Infracti he directs that at nods. “Yes, Maiesti. The council needs time to deliberate. This is, as you know, a bit unprecedented.”

Taehyung purses his lips. It’s true; never before has a King - or former King, technically - been put to trial. Dethroned, murdered, cast away - yes. But not like this - a trial, a ruling of guilt, a council deliberating on what sentence he should serve. A sentencing that could take nearly a month, apparently.

“Very well,” Taehyung frowns. “And what of the other trials?”

An uneasy look passes through the room.

Taehyung sighs. “I asked for this myself,” he points out. “You don’t need to be afraid to talk to me about it.”

A woman at the table inclines her head in deference to her king. “Your trial has been scheduled the week after your father’s sentencing. We thought we ought to give you time to help your sperasa recover.”

That’s where Taehyung would rather be right now, in your dark rooms with you, and everyone in his cabinet knows it.

“Thoughtful,” he murmurs, because it is, because it’s not his cabinet’s fault that he murdered innocent humans while under the power of the curse, not their fault that he wants to answer for it.

“Hoseok and I will be fully prepared to represent your defense by then,” a dark-haired Infracti seated near Jin tells him. “I’m confident in our outcome.”

They move on to discuss the third trial - Seokjin’s father, the leader of the Scores. Seokjin listens politely, but the tips of his ears go red until the topic changes. 

Taehyung ticks the trials off in his head, all three, ducks in a row.

“Let’s meet in four days’ time,” Taehyung suggests, glancing around to see if anyone objects. “The trials were my first order of business, but we have a lot of work to do restructuring things around here.”

Everyone at the table nods, and once Taehyung gives a few cabinet members specific directions for tasks to handle in the next week, they disperse.

“Off to see your feral beast?” Jimin teases, as he and Taehyung follow the trickle of people out into the corridor.

Taehyung can’t help but grin, big and boxy. “I like her like this. I’ll almost be sad when she settles down again.”

Jimin laughs at this. “It’s only been a week since you turned her. You have at least another week or two before she calms down.”

Taehyung’s expression slides into a grimace. “Hopefully I’ll still be around once she’s settled and not rotting in the palace prison.”

Jimin’s face goes unreadably blank. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” he says, suddenly somber and quiet. “You’re the King. You could call it off - no one could say anything.”

Taehyung shakes his head. “I need to.”

Jimin purses his full lips at him, but doesn’t retort. Taehyung thinks that Jimin understands, even if he doesn’t like it.

“Yoongi will defend you well,” he says finally. “I’m sure the sentencing will be light.”

“I want the sentencing to be fair,” Taehyung says petulantly. “That’s the whole point.”

“It will be,” Jimin argues. “You were cursed. No one is going to hold that against you.”

Taehyung twists his mouth but doesn’t address this. They’ve been walking as they talk, and they near the doors that lead to your rooms. They’re heavily guarded - Taehyung counts seven Infracti but he knows there are more - mostly to keep you inside.

Jimin tells him goodbye, and the guards move to let him enter. He’s careful to slip through the crack in the doors quickly; the guards are careful to be ready, just in case you get through.

Your rooms are dark, the lamps all unlit, the heavy curtains closed and drowning out any sunlight that might filter through. Normally, Taehyung might expect you to have a fire crackling in the hearth, but part of turning includes several days of unbearable heat, and he’s not sure you’re past that yet.

You come out of nowhere, slamming into him from the shadows to his left, and Taehyung lets himself get knocked to the ground, landing squarely on his ass.

“Ouch,” he says, pouting at you.

Straddling him, rearing back so he can see the column of your throat working in the darkness, you curl back your upper lip, bare your brand-new fangs at him and snarl, the sound snapping and cutting.

He grins. He loves you like this. It makes him feel proud.

“What is it you need, my Queen?” he teases.

Your scowl at him, fangs hanging over your lower lip; you haven’t mastered putting them away yet, and Taehyung thinks it’s the damn cutest thing in the world.

“Drink,” you say, a demand.

“Are you thirsty?” he coos. Your scowl deepens. He knows your consciousness is cloudy right now, a haze of thirst and want and heat obscuring your finer thinking. But you’re in there, behind the haze, and each day a bit more of you shines through.

“Drink,” you insist again, petulantly.

He wishes he could take you hunting - deer, maybe even a bear. He’d loved to see you in action - he has no doubt you’d be a formidable predator, and it sends a thrill through him. But it would be too dangerous; if they happened across a human, you’d have no control. Not yet.

Maybe someday.

Instead, Taehyung flips you without warning, laying his body heavy over yours. You begin thrashing immediately, snarls rolling through you like seismic activity, but he’s stronger and he manages to hold you in place.

He gives a sharp whistle and your doors open. Your thrashing intensifies as you see an escape route, but the guards who wheel in two carts are quick, and soon enough the doors are shut again. Taehyung lets you up, and you skitter to the door, hands working at the knobs. They don’t budge.

You whirl around, looking at him furiously.

“Look,” he says happily, unphased by your anger, “they brought you drinks!”

Eyes narrowed suspiciously, you peer at the carts. There are a few items of blood-food, but unsurprisingly you pass them over. There are carafes of dark liquid, and if you wanted you could just drink. But Taehyung knows what your body is craving - just blood won’t be enough to sate you. Your fangs are tingling, itching to pierce, itching for warmth. You won’t feel better until that need is met, too.

The bags, just big enough to be cradled between two hands, are simply called Prey - a little joke by their inventor, none other than Jimin. They were created for newly-turned Infracti, meant to satisfy both needs at once. The pouch is not real skin, though it feels close enough. The blood inside is real.

You hold one between your hands, claws digging in like it might escape, and bring it to your mouth, piercing the pouch and beginning to drink. You let out a happy little sigh, and Taehyung comes to wrap his arms around you from behind.

“There,” he soothes. “Drink all you need. You’ll feel better.”

You work through three pouches before you stop, dropping the deflated Prey onto the cart it came from and turning to Taehyung with wide eyes, and the cutest fang-adorned pout.

“What is it, my love?” he murmurs, brushing a hand over the top of your head soothingly. “Don’t you feel better now that you’ve had some to drink?”

You nod, then reconsider, frowning and shaking your head.

“What’s not better?” he asks, moving to pull you into a standing cuddle.

Your frown deepens and you raise a hand and rub at your mouth, fingers sliding along your protruding fangs with a squeak.

“They hurt?” he asks sympathetically.

“Bite,” you mumble around your pout.

“Alright,” he tells you. “Let’s get comfortable.”

You loop your arms around his neck, and he takes a second to smile into your hair, holding you close. He likes you like this, too driven by your needs to be proud. He likes that you need him, that you want him, that the part of your brain that might make you pretend otherwise, or at least act like it’s less, is currently silenced by your bloodlust.

He lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you deeper into your wing, seeking out your bedroom. The blankets are rumpled, half-thrown on the ground, like you’d tried to sleep but had eventually kicked the blankets off and gotten up to pace, instead.

That’s probably exactly what happened.

He settles back against the pillows and you straddle him, arms still around his neck. You bury your face against his chest and whine.

“I know,” he tells you, rubbing a hand up your back. You hiss at the contact, pulling away from where you’d been hiding your face.

“Hurts,” you complain.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, trying to touch more gently. He knows your muscles are sore, skin hot to the touch as your body adjusts. “You can bite if you need to bite.”

“You sure?” you ask, and Taehyung notes that it’s one of your first multi-word utterances. A sign that you’re making progress, coming out of the fog a little.

“I’m sure,” he tells you.

You nose at his neck, and he strokes lightly down your back until you find a spot you like.

It’s only a sting when you pierce the skin of his shoulder, over his deltoid, for which he’s thankful. You don’t drink - sangru can’t be ingested - but leave your sore, sensitive fangs buried in his flesh. You wrap yourself around him even tighter, settling in and closing your eyes as you feel relief for the first time all day.

Taehyung tries hard to hold still so he doesn’t knock you loose. He’s glad he can do this for you, help ease your way. 

He still finds it incomprehensible that you’d give up your human life for him. He holds still, and he whispers to you that it’ll get better soon, that Potato misses you, that he loves you.

After a while, he feels your breathing even out. He shifts gently, wincing as your fangs slip from his shoulder, the wounds starting to ooze tar-black sangru. Unbothered, he moves you gently into a more comfortable sleeping position, smiling when you hum in your sleep. Then, even though he’s slept all night ever since the curse was undone, he closes his eyes and lets himself drift away with you in his arms.

—

You lay still when you awaken, slowly taking inventory of each thing that hurts. Your head isn’t pounding - that’s a first, since the night Taehyung had turned you. You flex your fingers, roll your shoulders, stretch your legs towards the end of the bed. Things are stiff, but not painful the way they’d be the last few times you’d woken.

You rise gingerly, making your way to the windows, drawing back the curtains and filling the room with light. You blink against it, letting your eyes adjust.

You’re in your own rooms, your new wing in the palace. You wander from room to room absently, trying to familiarize yourself. You feel a little lost, a little out of place. You hadn’t inhabited these rooms for long before turning, and now you’ve been out of it for so long that you don’t even know what day it is.

You’re standing in the middle of the main room - with couches and an unlit hearth, just like Taehyung’s wing - staring absently at nothing when one of your tall doors cracks open.

You almost sag with relief when you see Satuel peek her head inside.

“Hi,” you breathe, deflating.

“You’re up,” she says, sounding a bit surprised. “It’s harder to keep track of you now that I can’t hear your heartbeat from outside.”

This makes you smile. “What day is it?”

She tells you as she comes inside, and you start counting on your fingers. Almost three weeks to the day since you’d performed Taehyung’s countercurse.

“Can I get you anything, Maiesti?” she asks.

You feel your face heat. “You shouldn’t call me that,” you say, a bit aghast. Your voice is rough from disuse. “I’m only Prince Taehyung’s sperasa.”

“You will be Queen soon enough,” she says in that cool, even way of hers. “What can I bring for you?”

You hesitate. “I’m very thirsty,” you admit.

She gives you a quick bow and retreats, and you sink into a chair, a bit dazed. Now that you’re noticed it, the thirst is powerful, and you find it hard to think about anything else.

Satuel doesn’t leave you suffering for long. She returns with a cart full of options - pitchers, Prey, and various pastries that must be blood-food.

You choose the pouches, the Prey, since they relieve both the thirst and the tingling need to bite. Though, you notice absently, the tingling isn’t so bad today.

While you drink, Satuel catches you up on what you’ve missed - the former King’s guilty verdict, Seokjin’s father’s trial underway, Taehyung’s own trial impending. Word that Namjoon made it back, that he’s doing fine settling back into his old life. That Taehyung has been here every day, helping you adjust, in between meetings with his new cabinet.

“Maiesti will be pleased to see you feeling more like yourself,” she notes.

“Do you think he’ll be long?” you ask, a bit wistfully.

Satuel gives you a knowing smile. “I think if I tell him you’re awake - really awake - he’ll leave his cabinet mid-meeting to come dote on you.”

You flush.

“Should I inform him?” Satuel asks, almost teasingly.

You wonder if, somehow, she has ended up as your friend.

You hesitate. “Could I… go see him? I’d really like a walk.”

You clean up before you go, and you’re pleased to find that you remember your way through the palace from these new rooms. It’s startling to walk down the corridor - your gait is awkward, your legs wanting to go faster than your brain thinks they can. But, of course, your brain is wrong - it needs time to catch up to what your body can do now.

You pause at the door of Taehyung’s meeting room, listening.

“I just think,” Seokjin is saying, somewhat hotly, “that there needs to be some weighting to the representation. The great houses should have more say than the lesser houses. We’re the ones here doing the work, we’re the ones here solving problems. The lesser houses can have a representative, but court families should have more.”

“I disagree,” someone else says, their tone carefully polite. “Beginning this new venture with an imbalance of power will only invite trouble. The lesser houses will be resentful from the beginning. It could brew into conflict. We don’t want to replace one monarch with a group of monarchs. Your Majesty, you wanted equality across Infracticus - that means you must start with equal.”

“You both make valid points,” Taehyung muses. “How do we decide? Should we vote?”

You step into the room. A few cabinet members look up, eyes widening. Another does a double take, at first deeming you unimportant and then looking again when they register who you are.

Taehyung lets out a noise like a laugh, a smile breaking across his face. “My love!” he cries. “You’re well?”

“I know my name today,” you tell him. “So that’s something, right?”

He starts to push his chair back, but you raise a hand to stop him. He halts mid-motion, clearly confused.

“What if you appointed representation by breaking up the land instead of by house?” you suggest, jumping uninvited into the conversation you’d interrupted. “I’ve seen it done that way above - it works, more or less. Then it doesn’t boil down to do the Runes get one or two, it would simply be that the Runes living in a designated area have the same representative as anyone else who lives there, too.”

Taehyung’s smile, if possible, triples in size. He finishes standing, pushing his chair away. He points at Seokjin mirthfully. “Discuss this suggestion in my absence,” he commands. “My Queen requires my attention now.”

Out in the hall, he sweeps you into a hug, swinging you in a circle. You laugh, slapping half-heartedly at him until he sets you down.

“You,” he says, “are the bravest, smartest, most beautiful Queen Infracticus has ever seen.”

“I’m not Queen yet,” you point out.

“We’ll start planning today,” he says, and then falters. “That is… if you want. I didn’t mean to rush you. I just got excited.”

You can’t help but smile, slipping a hand into his. “No,” you say shyly. “I do… want. Should we wait, though - for after your trial?”

He sobers. “Yoongi thinks it’ll be over in a day,” he says quietly, not meeting your gaze now. You squeeze his hand, reminding him that he’s not alone in this. “The Elders will testify that I was cursed… Namjoon is willing to testify as well… some of my guards, who kept me in my rooms…”

“I could, too,” you offer.

He nods, but it doesn’t seem like he’s saying yes. “If it comes to that,” he hedges. “But, like I said, Yoongi doesn’t think it’ll be much of a case. I’ll be relieved when it’s over, either way.” He shoots you a conspiratorial look. “And then, yes, we can start planning our events.”

“Events?” you echo.

“Wedding,” he ticks off on his fingers. “And then we’ll have to have a coronation for you.”

“I’d rather do it all in one go,” you admit. “I don’t like being the center of attention.”

He smiles indulgently at you. “You’ll get used to it,” he says. “If it helps, from now on, it will never just be you in the center, at least not alone. Wherever you go, you’ll always have me.”

And it does. It does help.

—

“Come on!” Taehyung’s voice is boyish, downright gleeful, as you struggle to keep up with his long legs.

“Where are we going?” you call to him, but your voice is lost by a strong ocean breeze, the sound carried away and drowned beneath the cries of the gulls and the crashing of waves.

In truth, you’re going slow on purpose, trying to savor this: the ocean you get to live beside, Taehyung laughing and carefree in a way you’ve never seen before, a sense that you belong right here.

It’s hard to wrap your brain around the truth that you don’t need to savor it, don’t need to make it last - you’ll have more time here than you can imagine.

Then, you recognize the stone steps he’s bounding down. He’s taking you to his stables.

“Potato missed me too much?” you tease, finally catching up. He grins at you in response.

Inside the stable, he tugs you past Potato’s stall, giving her a quick pat on the nose as he goes.

“Ta-da!” he crows, leaning over the wooden door to the stall, peering down into the space below. You follow his gaze and gasp, hands flying to your face.

“Taehyung!” you shriek. “No way!”

“You’ll scare her!” he chides, but he’s laughing, reaching to unlatch the door so you can properly meet the baby amarisca that stands in the stall. Her coat is royal blue, her hooves navy, and her eyes as black as Taehyung’s.

You sit on the ground and let her come to you, trying hard not to squeal and scare her even though you’re absolutely vibrating with excitement.

“I can’t believe you did this for me,” you all but sob, so happy you’re almost incoherent.

“You need to name her,” he points out, sitting down next to you, hay and dirt be damned.

“Noodle,” you say immediately. “Her name is Regency’s Noodle. Taehyung, oh my god!”

You almost lose it again when she presses her nose into your hand, and Taehyung beams, his smile as bright as the sun.

You’ve come a long way in your transition. You can go almost the whole day without drinking, mostly needing one end-of-day “meal” (four or five Prey pouches) to get you through. You’re more steady on your feet, practicing zipping around lightning-quick the way you’ve seen others do. And your magic is stronger, too. You’ve been thinking of asking Taehyung if there’s a more formal way you can train in magic, once things are settled.

There’s a lot still to come. Your wedding, your coronation. And though the cabinet has been hard at work, King Taehyung has yet to announce that he plans to dissolve the monarchy and create a more democratic system in its place. Neither of you - none of the cabinet members - expect the news to go over smoothly.

Whatever happens, you’ll face it together. It helps that Seokjin is so involved, practically Taehyung’s second-in-command.

“When she’s big enough,” Taehyung promises you, “we’ll race to my island. We’ll travel to the ends of Infracticus together - I’ll make sure you see it all. We’ll ride together and see all the places you grew up reading about.”

“And then what?” you ask, half-teasing. You have an eternity to fill, after all.

“Whatever you want,” he promises. “We’ll do whatever you want, My Queen.”

And he slides his hand into yours, where it fits like it belongs.

—

Taehyung’s hand is in yours when he meets with you and the Infracti who will defend him at the trial, Yoongi and Hoseok of Cleave. 

“I was… going to keep this to myself,” he admits, shoulders rounded with shame. “But I need to know that I truly answered for what I did. And I can’t do that if you only know part of the truth.”

Yoongi looks at you, like you might have some answers. You do not. 

Taehyung wilts just slightly more. He glances sideways at you. “My love,” he murmurs, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Maiesti,” Yoongi says, voice low with warning. He trails off. 

Taehyung fiddles with the rings on his fingers, unable to look anyone in the eye. “The whole truth,” he says, so quiet that you and Yoongi both lean closer to hear him, “is that the curse… it wasn’t what I intended - something went wrong -”

“What happened, Taehyung?” you ask, knowing it when you see him start to spiral into half-thoughts. 

He braces himself, and then tells you both what happened five nights before you’d arrived.

Before you came to Infracticus, Taehyung had spent an entire night in the deepest archives the palace held. He had thrummed with energy and desperation, as if stopping his father’s actions faster could also undo them. As if finding a solution quickly could absolve him, earn forgiveness.

He’d slapped a palm over the page when he found what he was looking for, after hours of searching, reading for so long that his eyes watered and begged to close.

A curse. A curse that would end his immortality, give him a human lifespan.

“If I die young, without an heir,” he had argued with absolutely no one, his voice echoing in the empty, stone room, “then the crown cannot pass on. After my father, it goes to no one.”

It didn’t solve the problem now, he knew. It meant Sunjae would continue to rule unchecked. But someday. Someday, Taehyung would die, and then Sunjae would die, and then the crown would be free.

He’d rest easier knowing that even if every plan he thought up eventually failed, at least Sunjae would be the last. Taehyung would spend however many years he got trying to stop him, and if nothing worked then at least he could die knowing that after Sunjae, it would end. The monarchy would cease to exist. Something better could rise from its ashes. It had to.

He had stood and pulled the book closer to the edge of the table so he could see it clearly and began borrowing, pulling magic from the world around him. He’d end his immortality, he’d kill his immortal self. For his people. For Infracticus.

“I am Taehyung of Rune, Prince of Infracticus,” he had told the empty room. He would bring his father down. He would end his house’s rule. “But perhaps I can be of Ruin, too.”

<- Prev

thank you so much for being here!! i hope you enjoyed this crazy world as much as i did. may scuttlebug tae live on forever in our hearts :')

[junqkook]

⚠️ FIC DROP @ 10PM CST

[aloneatpeace]

Fall Of Empire

Girl in the Woods ' 1 '

Summary :𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓪 𝓯𝓾𝓷𝓷𝔂 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 . 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓷 . 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓭𝓮𝓷𝔂 𝓸𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼.

Disclaimer - this is pure fan fiction it's not real. I mean no disrespect to any of the members.The stroy is fictional it's doesn't have anything to do with the real life members of bts.

Warning - this chapter doesn't have anything but later we will reach the depth of story and there will. Abuse , degradation of women, sexism, men doing awful things, assault maybe more. (Not by the boys)

A/n : the fic take place as you can tell during mediaeval era or sort of it how would be a life of a girl that time from my perspective. Im not really good at and i don't wanna spoil it so that's it .

WC: 2132

“You are charming, you are everything any women would love to have. You are going to walk up to her and tell her that you like her that’s it.” Hoseok gives himself speech feeling proud of himself, he picks up his bag flung it over his shoulder and march towards where his horse was standing patiently for him.

Upon seeing his companion, the horse let out a happy noise greeting him. Hoseok smile brightly, a contagious smile that made the sun himself feel a little insecure. He pets the horse affectionately.

The sound of footsteps reaches his ear.

 hoseok take breath preparing to hear what he heard a thousand times “son, be careful when go there and if the crazy girl tries anything use the weapon”

He turns to his mother “why is it so hard to believe that she is simply just like living in the woods?”

“You are too young and innocent my son” his mother cup his cheeks squishing them making him whines at display of affection “I don’t know who is your companion but everything he sell you make us good living so I will let you go”

Hoseok pauses for a minute “yeah …. he is private man?” he said with hesitation

“Come before celebration start, will you?”

Hoseok node at his mother and start navigate his hose with a soft grip on its neck.

Unlike everyone hoseok didn’t fear the woods, he often find himself yarning to take a walk round the forest. The trees standing tall and proud, sun light gilding through the branches of the trees. The sound of birds and squirrels is something that made hoseok smile something that lots of his villagers find uninteresting. The lake was always crystal clear, remanding him of the tears of mermaid tales that he heard growing up. The silence of woods never frightened him either because he knows there is nothing out there that could harm him.

He always coming up with reasons to go there, maybe the reason behind that is he simply love the forest or maybe because your home is in the forest and it’s the only way, he can see you. He used to think that it was the first one but as the time goes, he realized it might be not.

How the two of meet was fresh in his memory. Teen hoseok was rebellious and reckless, as teenager always curious to find out new things and his curious nature resulted in him find the hunter that lives in the woods. His grandmother would gather him and his siblings to tell the story of wild hunter that lives in the wood. He was most dangerous man the town, no one would dare to walk or look his way. He was taller and stronger than an average man. He would come town at beginning of the month and middle of it each year to collect things and then he would go back to the woods. His grandma would say that the woods is his home and no one was allowed to go there. He partially believed that his grandmother was lying so they don’t wonder off into the woods.

To test his theory, he went to woods he was happy to find no man was there but what stunned him was you kneeling on the ground plucking wild flowers beside a basket that was too big for your little arms.  He felt like creep for watching you do your thing, the way your hair was kept showed someone did a poor job the cream color ribbon tied just keep the hair falling on your face, dress that fit perfectly but mud stain at the bottom, boots that too big for you, but his insides were glowing warm making him tingle all over his body. You were in your own world and when he walked towards you startling you at unexpected visitor. When hoseok smile pushed his hands towards to greet you all you did was start to cry and throw the basket at him hastily before running away.

He was only seconds away running after you to explain he didn’t mean to make you cry but the sound of his parents’ voice calling his name made him change his path of running. Yeah, it wasn’t a good first impression.  

He parents were so furious at him and banned him for going to the woods again, everyone kept an eye on him and he wasn’t allowed to go alone for couple of years he was always accompanied with cousins or siblings. Sometimes he thought that you were just his imagination that proved wrong when he saw you again.

He was helping his father at the market when the hunter came to the usual routine, he no longer intimidated them but he surprised when a little girl trailed behind him her little hand securely kept in the mans calloused one.

You were clearly amazed by the market eagerly looking around the innocence and pure happiness radiated from you. Your clothes were neat but it’s worn out, someone really tried to make your hair more presentable as if you spent hours on it.

When his eyes meet yours this time toy didn’t show any fear just curiosity unknowingly a smile made its way to his lips and that made you smile as well. He remembers the hunter taking to buy clothes that’s fits you. The people casted him suspicious glances thinking what a young girl doing with a hunter. Clearly, he wasn’t the father judging by the appearance but he didn’t question it. As he tries to follow you his father pulled by his shirt denying his wish to meet up close. He watched from afar as you and the man collect thing from various shops before starting to leave.  

From there on you and the man would come and collect things and leave. Hoseok would try to walk up to you but always there will be someone preventing him from doing so and you never spent time longer than needed but you always looked at him some times even smiled at him.

But after one day you didn’t come at all he waited for but you never came later the hunter also stopped coming, it worried him. Are you ill? Why did you stop coming? Did something happen to you? There aren’t wild animals that could hurt you, he concluded that you were just ill and prayed the gods that you will be better. It annoyed him to no end for feeling that way, you’re just a stranger that he doesn’t know anything about, but something in him hurts thinking about you in pain, maybe its in his nature, he one of most empathic one in the village.  

His worries only increased when you nor the hunter never came, the people didn’t indulge in what happened to you. As he grows his responsibility grow to slowly, he starts to forget about you. Hoseok grown into fine young man everyone loved him young men envied him, but he was humble and kind to everyone.

Surprised would be understatement when he saw you again years later, just like the first time you were in your own world as you washed fresh fruits in near lake. He was starstruck when he saw you but this time you didn’t run away. With a titled head a small smile graced you face.

“You are not going to throw me in the water this time, are you?” he asked with a teasing smile on his lips

“Perhaps I will” there is no menace in the words its was light and playful, that’s made him laugh

From that a beautiful friendship was born and along the way he fallen for the girl in the woods. When everyone thought that she is witch that killed the hunter now living the woods controlling the woods.

His eagerness made him reach his destination faster, he smiles unknowingly when he sees your home, it radiates a sense of calm and warmth. A deer walks around the front of your home with no fear of his presence along with couple of rabbits and swans. Wild birds preached on window a total sense of safety indicated.

He calls out your name.

“In here” you yell from behind the house where you arrange different kind of fruits and wild flowers for him to sell at his shop. After the two of you become friends, you have been helping him find new flowers and fruits and vegetable that grow in the woods. The partnership had helped him and his family in more than one way.

But to him you were just simple girl that live in woods, there is no evil magic in you even if there is he would gladly let you use him. He learned that the hunter was like father to you and like him you also content with living in the woods.  

Washing the fresh fruits that you find couple of days ago, you answer him. Hoseok didn’t tie his horse as the it knows the routine, simply walks towards where you kept water and fresh leaves for him to each along with some fruits.

“Did you go deep in without me?” he asks after seeing buddle of flower that was, he never seen. He frowns at the thought of you running around the woods without him even if you lived your entire life in the woods he woods

“Yeah, I felt like walking after couple of hours I came across these beautiful flowers” you said with smile on your face not knowing his inner thoughts.

“Well wait for me next time”

It was time for him to go home you send Hoseok a smile “have lovely day Hoseok”.

You nodded your head before continuing Hoseok starts to tell you about how things back in his home, how you occasionally node and listen silently without making any attempt to talk. He never took that personally because he knew that you are used stay in silence and rather listen to him and you love that about him for not judging you or pressuring you to talk to him.  

He node at you, glancing at you he inhales slowly, oh heavens you are just captivating just by standing there in without realizing how mesmerizing your presence is, in worn out clothes here there is dirt and stains visible but that somehow made you more alluring he don’t know. Maybe someone else don’t agree with his statement but to him you’re the prettiest and most beautiful girl he know.

The soft whisper of his name falls from your lips bring him back from his blissful thoughts, sees you stand a little closer to him with a confused look on his, everything in his body scream to embrace you, take away the wariness of your bones, give his warmth to you, to love you. Without even knowing he caught up in his thoughts again. Making you worried even more at the lack of his response

A soft touch on his arm made him come back and he wish your touch stay like that feeling like it’s the only thing that connect him to reality.

“Are you feeling unwell? You look flustered and red like berries” you touch his forehead to feel his temperature making him go redder if that’s possible

He removes himself from you before he melts into a puddle of honey “I’m fine” his voice come out too rushed and out of breath he walks towards his horse, he stops for moment before fully turning to you, you tilt your head at confused when you start to walk towards you.

“I know it’s been a while but I was meaning to ask you……….” He pauses you silently encourage him to continue “wouldyoulikebeminefortherestofmylife” he blurred out so quickly.    

That was bad how can she be yours she is her own person

“Hoseok, I did not understand any of that” you said with a playful annoyed jest.

Good

“I was asking if you would like……to come with tonight’s celebration I was looking forward to have you there with me”

“I do not think that would be a good idea…” you trail off but seeing his defeated look on you face you falter a little and he never asked you to do something for him, if the celebration means that’s much to him, you’re willing to indulge in it “but I think we can give it a try” that made him light up like a sun in the early morning.

“Good…. Great even… then I will come to get you be prepared by dust”

With a bright smile on his face, he walks backward still smiling like teenage boy towards his horse.

Maybe he can tell you tonight how he feels.

Note : that's type of dress what I have on mind if you want you can change it I'm only showing the typical one. There won't any other description of what you'll wear.

Thank you for reading, comment, likes and reblogs it's help to write 💓🙏

Tag

Masterpost here

@thebisexualonesworld

[riphobisbraces]

The Lucky Seven | BTS ot7 x reader

Hybrid/Royal AU

~ Chapter 1 ~

[ word count 3400+ ]

❀ genre: dark royal core, hybrid au, royalty au, hybrids/knights!ot7 x human/ princess!reader, afab (she/her) reader, polyamory (mostly ot7 x reader), strangers to lovers, daddy dom, smut and sexual sometimes. tiny bits of horror

❀ warnings: smut, swearing, murder, death (not the reader or ot7 though, I'm not evil), mentions of inbreeding (not between reader or ot7) some unsettling horror depictions, it won't be every chapter though or the whole story, just little bits here and there. (I'm willing to re write chapters for you to read if you can't do horror but still wanna follow along, just ask!🖤)

——— summary ———

In a world of hybrids and humans, following each other closely to extinction, you are one of the last full humans, Princess y/l/n of the emerald nation. humans are essential for the survival of hybrids so why are assailants hunting you and your family down? because of this, the court has decided it’d be best for you to be guarded at all times by the nations strongest knights, you’ve only ever heard of them but have never seen their faces. What will happen once you come face to face with the infamous “lucky seven”?

[ chapter 1 ]

“you will not go.”

Your father states lowly but firmly. The voice sharp enough to slice the chatter amongst the servants into silence. you were having lunch with your mother and father when you made the fatal mistake of bringing up the possibility of you attending tonight’s annual masquerade ball and thereby making your debut to the kingdom.

Ever since you were a little girl you had been sheltered your entire life. You’re told it’s for your own protection, for your people. you have to stay safe and alive to be able to nourish your nation.

being one of the last full blooded humans, you are a target. No one knows what you look like and you don’t know what anyone else looks like as well. Aside from your staff and servants, no one has ever seen your face. The kingdom and nation knows of your existence of course and they love you nonetheless but because of the scarcity of humans, your father has hidden you away in fear of you being kidnapped or worse.

Your father sees you as a priceless pearl, something he has the strong urge to protect. You were his treasure and he himself had a dark past he never got into as to why he was so overprotective. “but father… I’m 22 years old..” you say but as soon as it leaves your mouth, you wish you could take it back.

“Daughter, I know your age. And to question me is to disobey me, please leave your mother and I at once and make your way into your chamber” your father ends the conversation with that, wiping his mouth with his hanker-chief. He’s always been strict and what he says is always final. As you sat across from your mother, you stood up, placing your hands on the cold grey marble table.

You give her a look, furrowing your eyebrows as to say “please say something” but to your dismay she does the same as your father, wiping her mouth then clearing her throat before looking down to finish her meal. You sigh before you give in with a feeble “yes father”. standing up, you make your way out of dining room, feeling sympathetic glances from the staff as you leave the room.

Walking to your chamber you notice the marbled white floor feels a bit chilly today. you walk through the corridor, onto the white stairway, feeling the relief of warm velvet carpet beneath your chilly feet. Walking up the stairs, one by one, you reach the halfway mark.

The sun from the large glass windows on top of the staircase beams through, tickling your eyes. you squint and use your hand to shade your eyes before looking up. You see two birds fly by, disappearing as quickly as they appeared, almost looking like as if they flew into the clouds.

You feel your heart fall heavy, filled with desperation to be like one of those birds, even just for a second. how lucky they were, to be able to go anywhere, anytime they want. no responsibilities.

It’s a little cliche but people are right when they say they wish they were birds you think to yourself. You’ve read hundreds of books and definitely have come across some descriptions of people wanting to be birds. Never understanding though as a child, you would think to yourself “why on earth would one want feathers? And to have a beak? How bizarre” But as an adult, you understood why now. It was about the freedom.

“Your highness, are you alright? Is your heart okay?” No it isn’t. You snap out of your thoughts before you realize you were still standing halfway up the staircase, clutching your chest all the while an old male servant by the name of Lloyd, looked at you with a face of concern. How long did you space out for, you thought.

“Oh yes, thank you. I guess I just got lost in thought” you give a half smile to your servant. His face of concern turned to relief before quickly turning sour again. while waiting for his response you realize he was one of the servants that was in the dining room when that whole theatrical happened with your father.

“Your highness, please forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn but I do feel sorry for you and your predicament. Please let me know if there is anything that I can do to lessen your grievances.” He tries to smile before dismissing himself with a bow and turning away. this of course isn’t unusual, your servants do seem to pity you a lot, which you find ridiculous and kind of ironic, that your “sheltering” has gotten to the point where servants pity a princess!

you’re grumbling as you think and make your way through the upstairs corridor, before eventually finally reaching your room. the oh so familiar two large and tall, white doors stand in front of you. you’ve seen these doors more often than you’ve seen your own face you thought to yourself.

reaching for the diamond knobs you turn them before pushing your way in. The breeze of the outside immediately hits your nose. It’s so fresh and delightful.

Your maids know how stuffy it gets in your chamber and how much you love fresh air so they leave your window open whenever you’re away from your chamber. Your room is cream coloured and filled to the brim with gold accents. High ceilings and lots of books.

Walking towards your desk by the window, you feel your mood start to shift. you feel a bit better despite the little argument you had with father this afternoon. you take a seat in your chair, it’s plush seating immediately coaxing your back into comfort and relaxation.

Inhale… exhale… you look up to your painting above the desk. it’s of two women, dancing in glee at some sort of outdoors festival. you always loved this painting, the happiness they seem to exude, the freedom and love.

They look like they don’t care about the past nor future, they are just focused on the present and what’s in front of each other. Oh how you longed to be that free and content. you feel the familiar heaviness sinking into you chest once again.

you have to feel that freedom, you have to have that happiness at least for one night, dear god, please, just for one night. The desperation in your chest starts to grow more and more. The desperation turns into fear and anxiety.

You feel your palms sweat and your face get hot just at the very thought. Your hands start to shake once you come to the very obvious conclusion. you HAVE to sneak out to the ball tonight.

—

“But Lloyd, you said you would do anything” you whine with a pout to your servant. “Your highness I-I might’ve of offered but I didn’t think you would need this! And your father- ohhh no, your father is a very scary man and I don’t think if I-“ you shush Lloyd, the same old male servant from before from the stairway. “shhhh. Keep it down! you aren’t doing anything you aren’t supposed to be doing, just play along. Just- Please.. “ You reply with hopelessness at this point, looking down.

you had hatched the perfect plan. You made it as though you were sleeping in your bed, forming your pillows to the shape of your body underneath the comforter. You were all dressed and had your mask on but even so, you would just have to avoid your personal staff and your parents, no one knew you were the princess and what you looked like.

Your father had luckily assigned Lloyd to sit outside your chamber with the guards. The routine is usually a servant will come in and out, checking on you from time to time making sure you are okay before letting the guards know. they would sit there all night which you had gotten used to over the course of your life.

You were always being watched and protected. a sigh interrupts your thoughts “if you’re caught, I knew nothing.” he says in defeat. your eyes widen with a bright glow and you feel your heart skip a beat before jumping into his arms “thank you, thank you, thank you” you whisper. he knows he shouldn’t be doing this but he can’t help but feel for you and your situation.

But the way you lit up and how fast he heard your heart go at his answer, he didn’t regret agreeing. Suddenly he pulled away from the embrace to face you, “Okay princess but you have to promise me not to leave the castle! please stay within the ball and please don’t get recognized. If you’re in danger please just run back to your chamber and reveal yourself to the servants so we can help you. And-“ the old man was about to continue before you cut him off “I promise I’ll be safe. just leave it all to me” you smiled at him.

He sighed out before he looked down at you and tried to return the smile but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. “Okay your highness” He replied. You give him one last smile before you let go and he dismisses himself.

Hearing your chamber door closed, you slowly walked up to your mirror, taking one last look. you were adorned with a long black dress, thin short sleeves resting on your shoulders, décolletage exposed wearing a pearl necklace with a dark green emerald laid in between your collarbones. your bangs were slightly pinned back just enough to show off your black lace mask.

Wearing your silk black gloves, you pulled up your mask to your face. this was the night. Tonight would be the night of your life. you feel yourself start to shake, before you suddenly feel the urge to throw up from all the adrenaline already.

you swallow it back holding your stomach. You thought this would be easy, thinking of it so many times before but now that you’re actually doing it, you are very frightened. You’ve never been by yourself, you’ve never been in public and mostly, you’ve never disobeyed your father.

You start to rethink your decisions. It’s not too late to undress and head to bed your good conscience says. father would never know. no. something snaps in you saying “it’s now or never”.

you shake your hands breathing in and out walking back and forth from your window before looking out to check for the outside night guards. You planned on jumping out your window and making your way to the ball since you’re only up on the second floor. There was also a small tool-shed in front of your window so you decided that you could easily make that jump to on top of it.

Once you’ve noticed that the guards finished their round near your window and were out of sight, you decide you have to just do it, or else you never will. without thinking, you opened your window ever so slightly before making the jump to the top of that very shed you’ve thought about jumping onto for years.

—

breathing in and out while looking up at the stars, you just lay there, on top of the tool shed. “I did it” you thought. You start to quietly giggle to yourself.

Even if you didn’t make it to the ball, this was enough. this was the furthest you’ve ever been outside the castle by yourself and it was simply outside your window. you catch eye of the Big Dipper, noting how prettier it looks outside.

You’ve seen the Big Dipper many times before from your window but to be apart of it outside, feels different. there are no walls surrounding you, just miles and miles of horizon. you feel like you’re in space.

“wow..” you say. You’re enjoying being in this new space before you’re brought back to reality with the sound of a snap of a twig. you quickly sat up and gasped.

you looked around into the darkness, squinting in hopes that would somehow improve your night vision. you quickly climb off once you decide that the coast is clear, making your way into the night. you can’t shake the feeling that someone or something is watching you though so you pick up your pace to the entrance.

Turns out your feeling was right. someone was watching you, not a threat though. the hybrid watched in the dark with curiosity as you made your way to the front of the palace. “Hmm” a low voice grumbles from the dark as you’re already long gone.

—

“woah…” you say in amazement at the crowd. You made your way to the front entrance where every hybrid of all ages were laughing and chattering. everyone looks beautiful and exquisite, definitely fit for a Royal ball.

You can’t help but smile like you never smiled before in your life. in awe of the different faces and smells, you find yourself all of a sudden getting pushed inside as everyone makes their way in. the crowd forming a moving wave toward the entrance with you in it so you decide to just go with the flow hoping you won’t trip.

As the crowd moves towards inside, it doesn’t take long before everyone starts to disperse into a large and grand ballroom. You gasp in astonishment, why haven’t you ever seen the ballroom when it was decorated like this?

Yes you’ve passed by it many times but the room was always empty and plain. It always felt spacious and dark, a lonely room. but tonight was different, the room had come alive with warmth and gold.

It was as if what was missing were people, smiles and laughter. It felt like an another dimension, the layout was your home but you were somewhere completely different. You made your way to the side of the room, leaning against the wall and just taking in the scene before you.

The sound of trumpets startle you from your bewilderment, panicking and immediately ducking down because you know that could only mean your father is going to make his entrance. “Woahh there miss, it’s just the horns for the king” a deep voice makes you turn your head.

A tall man standing in front of you makes your stomach drop. Looking him up and down real quick you realize, he’s a knight. you’ve never been this close to anyone but your servants, let alone having to speak to them. “o-oh yeah. I know” you quickly say before trying to hide again.

You look at the grand staircase in the middle of the room where it looks like your father will be entering from. Feeling your heart beat faster you turn back to get another look at the man’s face beside you before realizing he hadn’t broken his eye contact on you since he’s spoked. he was wearing a black eye mask but you could tell that he was handsome.

His heart shaped lips and angular jawline. He had dark hair and dark eyes to match, you could feel your palms getting hot and a weird fluttering feeling go off in your stomach just by looking at him. “is there a reason why you don’t smell of hybrid miss?” he broke your thought whilst smirking.

Wait what, smell? “what do you mean?” you question. He continues “well it’s just that, every hybrid has a certain scent that others can decipher as hybrid but it seems that…” he leans closer to smell you as you shiver from the sudden close contact “you don’t have a scent. Not a hybrid scent anyway, and as a hybrid, I shouldn’t even be having to explain this to you as you should know this… right?” He smiles. Shit, you are screwed.

You didn’t know that. otherwise you would’ve stayed in your chamber. Humans and hybrids have differentiating scents? your father never really told you these things as he thought you wouldn’t need to know them.

God damn it, father, you thought to yourself. “I just-“ you were about to continue when you were saved by the bell, or at least you thought you were. It was your father speaking. “Welcome to the 34th annual masquerade ball! please help yourself to refreshments and dance to your heart's content! please enjoy!” He finishes with a bow.

Everyone begins clapping as you find yourself sneaking away to get back to your chamber. Making your way out, you suddenly feel your wrist being grabbed, you gasped before your turned to face the same man you were talking to before. “I know you’re the princess, and I know you shouldn’t be here” he admits with a soft voice.

You feel your knees turn into noodles as you’re caught. “Please oh please don’t tell my Father, I was just about to go back into my chamber-“ you’re cut off when something quickly partially covers your sight. the room went quiet from the sudden fast flying object. you look above the thing partially covering your sight before you realize what it was.

An arrow. in between yours and the man’s face. You gasp, breath hitching, trembling as you look at the man in front of you who also has wide eyes. he suddenly covers you and picks you up bridal style without a thought and yells “THE PRINCESS IS BEING ATTACKED” everyone starts to scream and duck once everyone registers what’s going on.

“the princess?” “What is she doing here” screams and confused chatter quickly spread amongst the ball all the while, your father is standing on top of the stairs frozen in bewilderment.

What were you doing here? Who was attacking? Who’s going after his little girl? Why can’t he move? He can’t do anything but watch everything unfold in shock, still like a statue.

The voices of servants and knights trying to get orders from him, just registering as ringing in his ears. His mouth slightly agape, amongst the chaos, one of his best knights pulls him by the shoulders. “MY LORD” suddenly a loud voice abruptly brought him back from his frozen shock.

He looks up before realizing it’s one of the lucky seven. Ironically, he feels lucky because of this. “get my daughter out of here” is all the king could muster before the knight gave him a stern nod.

Running down the stairs, the knight yells out to his pack member carrying the princess “HOBI, GET HER TO NAMJOON” hobi nods while running to the front to where the said knight named Namjoon resided. The aforementioned knight running down the stairs then took out his sword and quickly looked for his other pack members to take down the asalients.

—

you’re frozen. You can’t do anything but watch the horror unfold. This is all your fault, it had to be. People were pushing each other, screaming and crying.

Everyone was running for their lives all the while you were being carried by this unknown knight. You could feel the regret and fear in your stomach churning together to create this whole new awful feeling. You just wanted to go home, you regretted ever coming out.

Your train of thought is broken when the two of you finally made it outside. An even taller and buff looking man ran up to you guys. “Hobi, what’s going on?” he asks concerned while looking back at you both and everyone running past you guys. Who you guess is Hobi, puts you down and replies “this is the princess, she’s being attacked. We need to hide her until the others calm everything down, king’s orders”

Namjoon looks at you in shock “the princess?” before quickly shaking his head, snapping himself out of his own shock before saying “alright, I’ll take her from here”. The buff looking man quickly shape-shifts into his animal form, a large dark grey wolf.

Hobi quickly puts you on top of his back before saying “hang on tight your highness” you do as your told and hold onto the wolf around its shoulders, not being able to wrap your arms fully around because of how truly large he was. Letting your hands sink into his fur, you grab on before he suddenly starts running.

You turn around as the palace behind you becomes smaller and smaller and the screams become quieter and quieter. You turn back to face forward before letting yourself succumb to your adrenaline, now feeling safe. This fur is warm you think to yourself before drifting to sleep, all the while you somehow held onto the hybrid tight the whole ride, too scared to let go or be alone even whilst asleep.

a/n; okay so I know I said I would start writing chapter one tomorrow but I couldn’t wait, I wanted to get the story rolling before I started writing tomorrow again. anyway what did you think? why didn’t Lloyd tell y/n about humans and hybrids having different scents? who was watching her while she was on top of the tool shed? and how did hobi know y/n was the princess 🤔 also who was the knight that broke the king out of his thoughts? So many questions unanswered but continue reading to see what happens! we will be meeting the boys properly next chapter :)

Next chapter:

[lovelycupid47]

Enchanted | Kim Namjoon One-shot

a/n: Second one fan fic. This is based on the song Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Hope you enjoy it!

pairing: Prince!Namjoon x Princess! Female Y/N

warning: A**hole men, no hate towards any idols involved, disapproving parents, and cheesy lines.

"There I was again tonight

Forcing laughter, faking smiles

Same old tired, lonely placeShifting eyes and vacancy"

You were yet again at another ball that your parents forced you to attend. You are the heir of the Busan kingdom, and currently, your parents are looking for a prince for you to marry. You were excited. You were going to find the love of your life and live happily ever after, however, you didn’t think that every prince you met was a complete asshole.

Prince Seokjin was nonstop complimenting himself and even commented that I should watch my figure. Prince Jungkook asked if he was allowed to have many other princesses to sleep with. Lastly, Prince Yongbok was judging you on how you talk with other men, then he would have you follow him everywhere which just annoyed you to the bone. Every man you tried dating was nowhere near the guy you dreamed of. The constant change meant attending more balls to find the suitor. It was fun in the beginning, but now it was becoming more tedious and forced. It was the same thing over and over. Smile, curtsey, introduce yourself and your status, and try to listen to the prince bragging themselves. Everything was just the same thing as usual until someone captivating caught your attention. 

"Your eyes whispered, “Have we met?”

Across the room, your silhouette

Starts to make its way to me"

A tall man in a royal blue pristine suit approached you. He was smiling so beautifully with his tan milky skin and adorable dimples that were protruding out, his hair was chocolatey brown and swept to the side, no strand misplaced, “Hello, my name is Kim Namjoon. Prince of Ilsan.” He bowed down with his left arm behind his back while his right arm was around his waist. 

“Pleasant to meet you, Prince Kim. My name is Park Y/N. Princess of Busan.” You curtsied. You were so distracted by his sparkling eyes that was gazing at you and only you.

“If you don’t mind, may I have this dance?” He extended his hand towards you and you gladly accepted it. Your hands were so small compared to his and noticed how smooth and warm his hands were. You both walked toward the middle of the dance floor. There were a couple of people there, but it felt like it was just you and him at that moment.

“So why is Princess Park doing here by herself?” He gently puts his right arm around your waist and holds your left hand while you put your right hand on his shoulder. You had a more clear view of his gorgeous face where you noticed a mole below his lips that you found adorable.

“Well if you must know Prince Kim, I’m looking for a potential suitor and I’m not alone. My parents are talking with fellow friends. What about you?” 

“I’m here just for the fun of it. Parents are trying to save their reputation, so going to parties and showing face is the only way.” He seemed like he was forced to me here too.

“That is really a bummer.” You pouted.

“Not really. If I wasn’t forced to be here, I wouldn’t be able to lay my eyes on the most gorgeous lady in the room. Especially a lady who has delicate features that can resemble a bunny, sparkling eyes that can hold the world in them, and glossy pink lips that are hard to resist to kiss.” He looked directly into your eyes and made you gasp. You felt your stomach flutter and your heartbeat fast. This was the only time a prince actually complimented you so intimately. It left you feeling giggly. You shyly smiled and looked down at your dress. 

“Well aren’t you being bold Prince Kim-”

“Call me Namjoon.” You looked up and saw him smiling with dimples and his eyes glittering in the lights. 

“Namjoon… Then call me Y/N.”

“Y/N. A beautiful name for something you want to love.” At this point, you haven’t paid attention to anything surrounding you because you are so captivated by the handsome man in your arms.

"The playful conversation startsCounter all your quick remarksLike passing notes in secrecyAnd it was enchanting to meet you"

Through the whole night, you and Namjoon talked through the whole ball. You both found interest in reading novels, loved being in nature, and wrote poems in your free time. He is quite poetic and always any way to compliment you using quotes from his poems. The night was so wonderful that you didn’t want it to end. You both ended up outside in the garden, admiring the stars that shone on both of you. It was such a magical night that nothing could ruin it.

“Y/N, where are you?” You can hear your mother calling you from inside. You looked back at Namjoon and grabbed his hand. 

“Come inside, I can introduce my parents to you. They would love you, I know it.” You tried dragging him inside but he was pulling away. “Y/N, I don’t think they would like to see me.” He was standing away from you while looking away. 

“Of course they would. They are the ones that have been wanting to find my suitor and now I have you and they would be delighted.” You tried persuading but it seems like he doesn’t believe it.

“It’s not that, its the fact-”

“Y/N! There you are. Your father and I have been looking for you.” You saw your parents walking towards you and you excitedly dragged Namjoon towards them.

“Father, Mother. I finally found a suitor that I wanted to marry. This is Prince Kim Namjoon of the Ilsan Kingdom.” 

“It is a pleasure to meet you your majesties.” Namjoon bowed in front of your parents and you saw the shift of expression from your parents that didn’t sit right with you

“Prince of Ilsan, you say?” Your father questioned with narrowed eyes.

“Y-yes sir.” You can tell that this is not going to be good.

“The Ilsan Kingdom that is slowly going down and losing their citizens?” Your father advanced close to Namjoon and you started feeling scared.

“Yes sir, but we are slowly gaining back our population and with me in charge, we are changing for good.” Namjoon was sweating really bad and he knew where this conversation is going. He has been in this situation many times and sometimes it does bring some humiliation to him, but he tries to be confident. 

“Yeah, I don’t believe that. That is the same thing your father said to me when he was becoming king.” your mother spoke up. This made Namjoon tensed up because he knew that was true. The Ilsan kingdom has been in shambles for decades and it seems like nothing was working. That is the reason why he is here. To gain some connection, but he got distracted by the beauty beside him. 

“I understand ma’am, but I can guarantee that this time everything will change.” Both of your parents didn’t say anything which worried you even more.

“Mother, Father, I was wondering if it would be okay that Namjoon becomes my suitor. I really like him and believe he can become an excellent king in the future. He is bold, strong, and intelligent. He has every good quality to become a king and a husband.” You tried bragging hoping that if you smoothed them over, they would be less tense with him.

“Daughter, you want him to be your husband. You must be joking.” Your mother insulted you, which you didn’t take kindly.

“Yes, I do.” You stood your ground and didn’t stand down from your mother’s stare.

“We don’t approve.” Your father declared. You never thought your heart could break from hearing those words.

“But I want to-”

“It is not about what you want, daughter. It is about what is good for the kingdom. You marrying him would not only tarnish our image but also our kingdom. It would be in shambles just like theirs.” Your father argued, “You are not to marry this failure of a prince. Do you understand me?” You were speechless but didn’t want to comply. “DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND?” He yelled. You sadly nodded.

“Good. Say your goodbyes, and meet us at the front.” That was the last thing your mother said before she and your father left to go back inside. 

You and Namjoon stood in silence. Neither wanted to leave the other. Wanted to grasp onto any little time you guys had left.

“Y/N, can you promise something?” He blurted while grabbing both of your hands into his. 

“Of course anything.” You stared deeply into his eyes. You actually think that this man could be the love of your life. You enjoyed your time with him more than anything in the world.

“I know that I may not be the best suitor because your parents don't approve, but please wait for me. I would come back for you and ask for your hand in marriage once I handle my kingdom.” You can tell that his eyes were glossing over, this was hurting him as much as it was hurting for you. You don’t want to let him go. He was the only man that has shown any genuine interest and felt a deep connection.

“I’m pretty sure if I can persuade them, they would love you as much as I do. It’s okay Namjoon, we can figure it out. Please stay with me.” You were close to tears at this point. You don't want to let go to the only man that you can love.

"It's okay, everything will be okay. This was the very first page. Not where the storyline ends of me and you." He pressed his forehead against yours and it felt like it was just you and him. 

"My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again." Tears started to cascade down your cheeks.

"Please don't be in love with someone else, while I'm gone. It was enchanting to meet you." 

That was the last thing he said to you before you never saw him again.